Hey everyone! I know it's been a very long time, but this might be my last post, at least for a long while. I've been working on some original stories and fiction for another fandom (Avengelock- I've become a super nerd), and I'm currently struggling to finish them so I can put them up. The other reason I haven't been on here in such a long time is because of a ton of schoolwork; I know, it's a lame excuse. Still, I hope you enjoy this last chapter, though depending on the feedback I get I might put up an epilogue as well. Thank you all very much!

Chapter 12: Odnu

Nadir had flown long and fast to the desert city. It was a beautiful place, really, situated around one of the largest oases and built out of marble from a nearby quarry. It was also a centre of knowledge concerning magic. The spell he sought to undo was the one that had been cast on Christine, but he had no way of knowing what sort of enchantment it really was, aside from the fact that it was unnatural and painful.

The desert folk were friendly enough, but the information he sought was not there. Then it's not desert magic. It's some other brand. It's not dragon magic, that's for sure, and it's not faerie magic. They couldn't come up with something this insidious if they tried. He puffed in irritation and snapped the tome closed. The librarian, half-terrified and half in awe, took the book back and ran to fetch another one.

There are so few transformation spells that are as painful as this one, and no cases of such side effects. Before the poor bookkeeper could return, he was up and away again, this time to his last resource. The ancient dragon leader was wise enough to let things happen as they would, and just enough to punish the caster of the cruel spell. He would know who had procured the magic and where to find them.

If he did, he would send an escort of some kind, depending on the culprit.

So, instead of retracing his steps all the way back to the council's crater, he returned to where Erik and Christine were resting.

Think, Christine. Is there anyone you knew that might have found out about you and opposed the transformation? Christine winced. The pain was reduced to a stitch in her side, but she knew it was because her ribs and organs were just waiting to stretch again. Besides that, she'd gotten a nasty sunburn. She'd forgotten that human skin was membranous and fragile.

"I don't think so." Her mouth was sticky and dry from the dates, and it was strange speaking with her mouth again. Her whole body felt unfamiliar though she had spent most of her life in it. Now it felt foreign, like she was experiencing someone else's form. She certainly did not miss three square meals of mouth-parching dates every day, chewed with flat molars and thin incisors.

There must be something. Who would have known anything about you? Nadir shifted restlessly, puffing and chuffing.

"I do not remember!" she cried, frustrated. "I never knew myself until the first spell broke!"

Enough, Nadir. Erik curled himself around Christine's exposed body once again, blocking out the harsh sunlight and dusty wind. He was still angry, but that anger had to be subdued until Christine was out of danger. Then he, too, turned his attention to the need for information. Christine, your father must have kept some record of you as a newborn. Where did he keep it? he asked gently.

"I think…high on a shelf, in a locked box." Then her eyes widened. "I know who it was."

Do tell, said Nadir. He was almost as anxious as Erik was to break the spell.

"There was a boy who used to watch me from afar. I never learned his name, but he volunteered to look after my place when I was sent away. He could have found the box and…"

Erik puffed smoke into the arid atmosphere, a hint of a growl colouring his tone. I could flay him alive for his meddling.

"No!" Christine croaked, then coughed. The desert air was much different from the sea air she was used to. "He is…ignorant. He does not deserve death."

Drink some water, Erik said, rising from the sand. She grappled with his spines, holding on as best she could for support against his great bulk. She was so small against him, too small. Nadir lifted his nose to the wind.

There's a wolf coming. The girl lifted her face from the water and pulled back her dripping hair. The gritty texture of sand under her tongue was not a pleasant one. And a human. His nose wrinkled. They have travelled more than a day, by the smell. The scales on Erik's back rippled. He didn't like wolves, though he could easily evade them now. They were relentless and often dull-minded: the perfect blunt instruments for the lead dragon to use.

"They are not dangerous. I know who the human is." Her heartbeat quickened. "He has come to change me back."

…

Raoul could see the oasis in the distance, and two dragons: a great ribbony serpent shining like degraded copper, and the other a hulking black mass. Meg had accelerated her pace, and he was still sore from the previous day. Her back wasn't the most stable seat. It was hot and dry and he was heading towards danger, if not certain death. This was not going to be his day.

Calm down, human, Meg chided. You are here to apologise and undo your spell. Then you can go home.

"Easy for you to say!" he shouted back against the wind, spitting out sand. The dragons were approaching too fast for his liking. Then they skidded to a stop, dirt flying.

The orange and green serpent shook his mane. The other just glared. Somehow this one seemed even more intimidating than the giant, mud-brown dragon leader. That might have had aught to do with the snarl painted on his snout. The worm-dragon-thing just let out what seemed like a sigh.

Well, human, what have you to say for yourself? Meg shook herself, unceremoniously dislodging him from his perch. He landed right on his sore spot in the dust.

Sorry, she said, though she clearly wasn't.

"I…" Then he tilted his head. "Where is Christine?"

The great black tent of a wing lifted, and there she was- but she was not well. She was not the human woman she had been. He could only see her face. Her curls were dirty and tangled, her lips chapped and bleeding. She watched him with glazed, fevered eyes. Oh, no… Then she spasmed, scales flashing beneath her straining skin. He did not register the screaming until it pierced his mind as well, mental agony with physical. Just watching her shift was enough to turn his insides.

The wing descended again. Undo it. Raoul swallowed.

"I know not how." The furious black thing rounded on him, teeth bared. They clicked closed just inches from his face as he fell back on the ground. He was growling so that the air vibrated, but his communications were no less frightening.

You smell of strong magic, weakling. Do better than that. He let his barbed tongue run over the enormous fangs in his jaws. The longest ones were the length of his arm. They made Meg's razor-sharp set look puppyish. Said wolf dragon sat back on her haunches. "Meg, do something!"

Sorry. This one is your responsibility. She licked her chops and lay down. He turned his eyes back to the black reptile staring him down.

Erik, let him go. I'll instruct him. This voice was much calmer, though a bit irritated. The black creature (Erik, he supposed- who would have thought dragons had ordinary names?) moved away just enough for him to get up.

Quickly. She is in pain.

Of course. The serpent uncoiled itself. He had legs, though they looked mostly vestigial. You must cast a reverse spell to cancel the one you ignorantly put in place.

"A reverse spell…"

Who gave you this spell?

He looked up. "An old shaman, a nomad." The dragon turned aside, seemingly muttering to himself.

Of course, that must be the reason there was nothing in the books… Raoul swallowed again. Christine was sick because of him. If she were a dragon, she could have at least fought her way to escape. He had to at least give her the choice. What, exactly, did you do? He almost thought there was a faint tremor to the mental voice.

"I had some…special dust. Quartz, some other things," he mumbled. "A scale."

You have to do the exact opposite. You must literally reverse your curse.

"How?"

You have to reverse the ingredients and the words, Meg said. Everyone knows that. Raoul suddenly felt quite stupid. He had rushed into the situation without knowing what was happening, or what the side effects would be.

What were you using?

"This." He retrieved the ingredients from his bag: the ancient tooth, the quartz dust, and the diamond he'd used to draw the shapes. "I poured out the shape of the moon, and drew a human around it with the diamond."

This time you must draw the sun in the sand and pour out the shape of a dragon. Do you happen to have diamond in dust form on you? He just stared. Surely they did not expect him to be able to crush diamonds! No? Nadir turned to Meg. Do you know the bone-crushing spell your pack uses?

Raoul's eyes widened with horror. Meg got up, tail waving slightly. Relax, human. We will not crush you. He was not immediately assured.

Give us the diamond. He could do nothing but watch in amazement as Meg's teeth glowed bright white. It took him a moment to gather his nerves and place the chunk of mineral between her teeth. Catch the dust as it falls. He hurried to obey. As the dragon ground the stone under her canines, dust fell away. The sawing, clicking sound hurt his ears, but he withstood it, gathering the powdered diamond (he could hardly believe her teeth were so strong) into his bag.

Erik looked on, impatient. Christine's fever had not abated, and now she was unconscious from the pain. He nuzzled her, feeling the sweat of her mammalian skin wet his nose. She did not stir. Nadir, hurry, he hissed.

Patience, Erik. We are almost finished. Patience? How could he be patient with his mate's life flickering, with her suffering? He growled. The human boy trembled most satisfyingly.

…

Raoul wiped sweat from his forehead. The sun was going down, and still there was not enough dust in the bag. Meg had complained several times of a sore jaw, and rightfully so: the cause of his sweat was the heat from her teeth. Could he spread this dust over the area needed? Surely he would not need so much: not even a whole handful.

Then it was done: Meg clenched her jaw hard, and with a muted shattering sound, the rest of the diamond flowed into the bag. Now draw what you must, before the sun disappears. The conditions must be the reverse of when you cast it.

"I know, I know!" He got down on his knees, hands scrabbling fevered against the grit. He drew the sun, and with little steadiness, sifted out the rough shape of a dragon around it. What did he have to say? The words themselves were hard enough, but backwards… He need not have worried. The words flowed smoothly, as if they were eager to escape.

Silence. Nothing happened. The black dragon snorted. If looks could kill, his would have murdered Raoul a hundred times over. What did you do, matchstick?

"M-matchstick?" His breath was short already, his heart pounding. What had he forgotten?

That is what you will be when I set you alight! Quickly, he scrambled for something in the bag, anything, because it might have been the missing ingredient. Little bags of dried herbs were all that was left. Fire glowed in the back of Erik's throat, outlining the scales of his gullet in dark red.

Scales! His hands searched for the string around his neck. Thankfully it was still there. Raoul pulled the scale pendant from around his grimy neck. "Here, now no roasting!" The flames stopped just short of his skin. The foul odour of singed hair reached his nostrils as he sighed with relief.

Erik, Erik, the serpentine dragon called Nadir chided. Do try not to kill anyone with your hastiness. Threatening is generally considered rude, you know.

Erik watched the human place the pearly little pendant around the shoulders of the diamond dragon from the corner of his gold eyes. It worked, did it not? During the past few hours, Christine had not stirred. He could feel the fever still rising slowly. Now say the words!

"Simrofitsirhc ibit iuq maem metatnulov maicaf." No sooner had he uttered the incantation than Christine began to shift again. This was not a painful shifting like before; it was more of a slide. The black dragon uncoiled himself from her gently, reverently, as her scales appeared and spines were unsheathed. This spell was against nature. It was easier for it not to exist than for it to be cast.

His eyes witnessed the gentle emergence of a tail, the budding and sprouting of wings, and the exponential growth. In a minute, she was standing tall, and Raoul was breathless. He knew this was her true form. Even just standing as she did, she moved more comfortably than she ever had as a human. Her eyes opened, silver like the light that spilled over the horizon with the rise of the moon.

Christine.

She was conscious, and her voice was as beautiful as she was. It is good to have my body again. She dipped her graceful head at Raoul, who felt strangely honoured. This was what had been so different about her all those years. She had never quite belonged because she was something altogether different from human. Thank you. Then she pressed herself along Erik's side.

The black dragon looked almost comically stunned, frozen stiff where he sat. Raoul had to laugh. Still, it made him sad to know that he might never see her again, and certainly never see the human he had been so infatuated with. But she was better off with the dragons, and with this one in particular. Other creatures could love, and Erik was clearly prepared to give his life for hers (or to take the lives of others, as the case might be).

"Well. I should be going now," he sighed.

No, you should not. I have not finished with you, human. Raoul swallowed hard as the great lizard stalked closer. You owe her, and you owe the council.

Why Erik, I never thought you would become the proponent of diplomacy.

Shut up, lemon-muncher. You know as well as I do that the council will want penance of him. He looked at Meg for help.

"What?" If she had been human, she would have shrugged.

I am unsure what else they could want from you.

Or… Everyone stopped to listen to Christine. She had not spoken much, and she was still tired, so anything she said had to be important. We could take him back to the town. We could let him decide what he wishes to do next. She fixed him with a large, shining eye. So, human boy; what do you want to do?

…

"Do you think this is the right thing to do?"

The council will not be satisfied until you repair the damage.

"I am not a healer, as you know. I can barely heal a human, let alone dragons." Meg flopped down in the road and yawned. The village people peeked out from behind shades and cracked doors at the enormous scaly creature outside the healer's shop. The street was empty and rank with fear, but she was oblivious. After all, she was a gentle creature outside of hunting.

Technically, their injuries are your fault. If you had not cast the spell, there would have been no panic at the meeting-

"And no one would have been hurt, I know," he finished. He shoved another bag of herbs into his sack, along with a log of how to use them and a jar of distilled spirits. Philippe had been a bit disapproving, as expected, when he explained his situation, but was more than happy to fund him on his journeys across the continent. After all, it encouraged 'maturity' and 'independence.' And it got him working for a greater cause: relations between humans and dragons, just as those great cities in the East had. Meg had followed him nonchalantly into town, ignoring the cries of fright. The people would figure out soon enough that she meant no harm.

In order to watch him, she had laid with her head just inside the door, like a pup waiting for playtime. The pack had sent her to him to prevent her wrecking the dens from anxiety and boredom.

How is my mother?

"You should speak with her yourself." He chuckled. "She certainly dislikes me, for my meddling and for my rudeness earlier."

You were rude to my mother?

"Can you blame me for thinking she was a witch?" Meg pouted.

Yes, I can, actually. And you have not given me my answer.

"Well, she is as crusty and stern as ever, and-" He stopped talking when he looked up. Magister Giry was standing in the road, looking smaller than ever next to her wolfish adoptive daughter. Her lined face was wet with tears. Meg scrambled backwards, bumping her head on the doorposts on the way out. It was strange to see her scaly tail wagging like a dog's, but he was happy for her.

"My Meghan." The old woman held her arms open for an embrace, though she could only hold so much of this reptilian body. She said nothing more, her sentiments were clear. Meg left her a big, wet kiss on the cheek. "It has been too long."

You say that as if you had not long to live.

"How are you, Meg?" she asked without breaking the hold. "How is life with the pack?"

Life is good, mother. I am where I belong. Her canine smile and eagerness was infectious, and Raoul found himself grinning. And what of you?

"I have become something of an old gossip. I play Cupid," she answered with a warmth he had never witnessed. "There will be nothing else to do now that Erik and Christine are together."

And who will you pass the mantle to?

"There are hardly any candidates for the title on the continent, let alone in this town," she snorted. Raoul felt he was intruding on something private. He had only even known Magister Giry as cold and expressionless.

You do not have to pass it. You are hardly old.

"Liar." Then she sighed and pulled back. "Oh, I have missed you. You look well."

You too. Her tears were rapidly drying. If you do happen to pass the mantle, I know someone who would take it.

"Who, him?" Giry jerked her head towards the young man, who was still packing provisions for his medicinal rounds. "An arse if I ever saw one. I would not give him the mantle with a century of training." Her voice was tinged with teasing. She was too happy to be cross with him now.

He will need your help. Meg sat heavily in the dirt. The council has sent me off with him for a while, but there is no healer so experienced as you.

"Well, I have not officially retired yet." She looked Raoul up and down from where he stood at the shop window. "You need help," she said rather flatly. He sighed.

"I know."

…

Christine had always been an early riser, and as a dragon she continued this trend; though really, what was early and late when dragons could sleep for days on end? She did not move. Erik's wide wing over her back was comforting and warm, even though his personality was anything but. In fact, she was beginning to think the amount of physical contact they had was only to make up for his constant grumbling.

Now that you have awakened, we will hunt.

She yawned, showing her needle teeth and snuggled further into his ribs. No… I am not hungry yet.

You need to work on your technique. He eyed her cautiously. She was there, and she was real, and warm. Sometimes having her close felt like a dream. She wasn't fully integrated into the dragon world; part of her would always remain human, even though they worked to ensure she would survive storms or challenges from other dragons. Fighting for sport was an activity prevalent amongst all ages. He would hate to see her defeated.

In addition to this, they had planned for a trip to the East, a more violent region, because she wished to see further than the village she had grown up in. She wanted to see what dragons and humans did together.

You need to work on relaxing. He nudged her with his snout, but she refused to move, stubbornly keeping her eyes shut, and draping her tail over her nose.

Move, he urged, but she could feel he was slowly giving in to the proposition of laying next to her and sleeping the rest of the day away. And even if they did not sleep, they could groom and sun themselves in the grass, enjoying themselves physically and mentally.

You know you wish to stay here. She opened one eye, languid and flirtatious. It was a surprisingly bold move on her part, one that produced a thrill running amok in his brain. This was not the first time he had had to steel himself against her advances. He did not want to deal with an unexpected clutch of eggs, especially since they did not know when she would be fertile. Female dragons of their species could conceive once a year, quite often in their long lifetimes, though with only two to three eggs per clutch. You never let yourself indulge, do you?

He maintained his composure. No. Now move.

No, she said lightly, knowing he would not force her. She puffed out a plume of smoke, which, interestingly enough, smelled of incense instead of the char of most fires. Erik rather liked the scent, though he would never admit it. Wait until we are hungry. There is no point to hunting when we still have last night's meal heavy in our bellies.

In defeat, he laid his head back on the ground next to hers. Very well. But I shall make it difficult for you to leave when you want a mouthful of fresh venison.

Not fair!

No less fair than your constant pull over my will, he asserted. She sniffed haughtily.

You are only this grouchy because you will not admit that you enjoy grooming and sitting in the sun. He had no defence against that accusation, nor did he want one. After a moment, he knew what would make her move.

A compromise, then: we will fly. She was up on her feet before he could fold his wing. The great membrane flopped over her head like an oversized hat. Hold. Grooming first. Her laugh made the air vibrate around them hum.

I knew it! You enjoy lazing about just as much as I do.

Hush, dragonet, and clean me, he grumbled less than seriously. Christine's little victory chirrup did not go unnoticed, but he had to relax when she began to scratch the dust from under his scales. This was one of life's pleasures he had been sure he would never experience. His skin twitched, but she was gentle, and it felt good to have physical contact.

Nadir floated himself into the cave. I see all is well and good here.

It is; go away, Erik said without opening his eyes.

He means it is nice to see you as well.

Nadir ignored Erik's grousing, and gave a celebratory wave down the length of his scaly body. The council wishes to meet with you two.

I thought those old bats were done with us. They know what has happened, there is no need to see them again. Christine paused her grooming and looked up.

What do they want?

A physical examination. It is but a formality, as most with at least some wit know Christine is fully dragon, but those caught up in the hysteria of that night want proof.

Idiots, Erik sighed. What are they looking for?

Yes, Christine added, I am a dragon, nothing more. What could possibly be different?

Size, apparently. Nadir shook his mane out. And your age.

Are we so different? The Persian nodded.

Centuries apart. It might help if you had all the skills for survival, as if you had been raised as a dragon, but there is no time to learn.

Christine puffed indignantly. I am able enough!

That may be so, but the council wants proof.

They should mind their own business. We will be off to the East before long, Erik revealed.

Delightful, a vacation! Nadir crowed. When are we leaving?

What? Christine raised her pearly head again. You never told me he was going with us.

That, my dear, is because he is not. He glared gold daggers at his friend. You are not invited. You will return to the council and tell them we are leaving for a few years. You will have to get on without me.

That will not be hard, he shot back. Then he snorted. This will not leave you on good terms with the leader, Erik.

It matters not. I have never been one to mix with the crowd, and Christine is sweet enough to make up for my shortcomings.

Thank you, she accepted the compliment. Her claws scraped along the plates of his shoulders, and he rolled them appreciatively. Nadir rolled his eyes.

I suppose I shall be going, then. At any rate, you both need the time for proper courting. His mischievous look was less than reassuring as he drifted away on the sea breeze.

Erik, what does he mean? He chuffed, a clicking sound deep in his throat.

Nothing.

You are a bad liar, she purred. Are you going to tell me?

No. Her front feet kneaded the skin on his back, which shuddered rather violently in response. Stop that.

He gathered himself and sat up, tail around his feet. Christine keened as she was pushed away. Tell me! There is nothing I should not know.

You would think it ridiculous.

I used to be a human. Is there anything so ridiculous that I could not abide by it? They sat together on the stone, with sunlight pouring in and the grasses waving green. The black dragon sighed heavily.

A proper courtship consists of many steps. In…our union, we have omitted them. Most would not consider our relationship legitimate.

And what are the steps?

Erik tried desperately to describe the process in formal terms, but he could not remove himself from embarrassment. Much of the courting process included gift-giving by both parties, showy dances, public displays of affection, and a formal proposal. I feel that we require none of these…things, he finished.

You are right, of course. He started.

You believe me?

We could skip all that and tend to a clutch immediately.

What? His eyes widened with alarm.

I was only toying, Erik. She leaned against him. Perhaps in the future.

Perhaps, far in the future. I have enough trouble believing you are here. It has only been a month. I need time for us to be realised.

We were always the odd ones out, at any rate. Then she leapt up into the sky, and he followed, and together they conquered the clouds and greeted the sun. Christine regretted nothing. Her father had known she could not remain human, but he had raised her in secret for her safety. In effect, he had given her away to Erik, a better mate than she could ever have asked for, and now they were each other's. They were no longer alone, and would not be for millennia to come.

On Erik's part, he knew there would be trials to come. He was by nature a magnet for danger, but he would do his best to protect Christine from all he had done in the East and all that his past had done to him. To be called a mate was his highest honour, and he would defend that title with all his might. In a way, he had guarded her for her whole life. This time he would be her Protector by his own choice and not by circumstance.

As they set the sky alight with the gems of their hides, only the sun rivalled their brilliance. In the village below, Raoul, Magister Giry, and Meg gazed up amongst stunned peasants and workers. This would be the beginning of an age of friendliness, and the end of superstition and human sacrifice- and hopefully, they would all live to see a better world.