DRAGONHEART, chapter nine

Author's Note: I've decided to go back to the original title "Dragonheart", while "Even Dragons Die" remains the title of the first part as it was originally intended to be.

Ayre stared at Fuego in shock. “How do you know my name?”

Fuego laughed just as he re-appeared from under the water next to the rock outcrop Ayre stood frozen on. Fuego’s broad shoulders were bathed in the golden rays of the sun.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he asked, filling the silence between them with gentle mockery.

Ayre shook his head; something strange and unfamiliar was uncoiling within his chest like a lurking snake, effectively dismantling his control and threatening his peace of mind.

“Well, I did,” continued Fuego smugly. “So now that we are no longer strangers, will you join me for a swim?”

After a few moments of stubborn silence on Ayre’s part, Fuego cocked his head to the side and said: “Unless you’re afraid of me?”

Ayre didn’t deign this question with a reply. He pulled off his clothes and dived. Fuego’s loud laughter was ringing in his ears.

A few minutes later Ayre broke the surface, shook hair and water out of his eyes, and looked about himself. Fuego was circling him like a predator, his grin as sharp as a dagger. Ayre mirrored his movements.

“Show me your tattoos,” said Fuego as abruptly as he did everything else.

Ayre frowned. “Why do you care so much about them?”

Fuego shrugged. “They fascinate me. I’ve never seen so many tattoos on one person. The first time I saw you I was struck by their appearance. From where I stood they seemed to be moving.”

Ayre was taken aback by Fuego’s candid reply, so when the latter asked him whether he could have a closer look, Ayre decided that his frankness deserved a reward. He straightened up and turned around, making sure that the water of the pool enveloped him from waist down. From his peripheral vision he saw that Fuego did the same before moving behind him to study his back. Ayre kept himself utterly still under his gaze. He wondered if Fuego’s interest was purely scientific. Had he misjudged his intentions? Did Fuego simply want to satisfy his curiosity about his unusual tattoos?

A crushing feeling of disappointment squeezed his chest.

“Amazing,” murmured Fuego. “These actually look like brushstrokes. I’ve never seen such a sophisticated technique before…”

Ayre shivered, feeling each word as palpably though it was pressed into his skin. Why did this human have such an effect on him?

“Cold?” asked Fuego, leaning slightly over his shoulder.

“Uncomfortable,” replied Ayre.

“How come?”

Ayre huffed and crossed his arms on his chest. “I can feel you tracing the markings on my back with your eyes,” he snapped.

“You must be very sensitive,” murmured Fuego. “I can’t wait to see how you will react when I trace them with the tips of my fingers.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t done so yet.”

“Are you asking me to touch you?”

Ayre snorted. “Do you always hear what you want to hear?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Generally, yes.”

“Unbelievable.” Ayre shook his head. “Are you done?”

“I have only just begun.”

“Well, hurry up then. I’m not going to stand here forever. I’m not a piece of rock painting.”

“No, you’re not,” drawled Fuego. “You’re a piece of – well – a very fine piece of – ”

“Fuego, there you are!”

“We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Ayre whirled around and saw two familiar human males standing on the bank, hollering at the top of their lungs and waving enthusiastically among bamboo plants that screened the place from view. They were both dressed in brightly-coloured breeches and vests with flowers in their hair that Ayre recognised as leftover decorations from the flower festival that had taken place just before his arrival.

Fuego cursed. “ Did I ask you to look for me?” His voice was so cold Ayre was surprised it hadn’t frozen the water around them.

Yet he was even more surprised when one of the humans giggled as though Fuego had said something funny. The giggling human was a short and stocky young male with a round face that looked quite childlike; his thick black fringe fell right to his slit-like eyes, making his cheeks look very chubby.

“Tao,” snapped Fuego, “control yourself.”

Tao let out a pig-like shriek and hid his face in the shoulder of the human standing next to him. Ayre didn’t know whether he did it because he was upset by the reprimand or because he didn’t want Fuego to hear that he didn’t stop giggling. Human behaviour continued to puzzle him. Tao’s companion (he had wisely chosen to grin silently) put a supporting arm around his waist and patted him gently on the head.

“So you’ve caught him, I see.”

Ayre had expected to hear that sarcastic voice any moment now. It wasn’t difficult to imagine that these three humans were Fuego’s close companions. Ayre had learned that humans called such humans “friends” but he didn’t really understand the concept and the word sounded too unfamiliar on his tongue to use. He knew that the idea behind “being friends with someone” implied a strong bond and usually brought together humans of similar ages and tastes, but he could not quite figure out the purpose of such a close companionship. Fuego, for example, appeared permanently displeased with his – Ayre mentally paused before adding – friends.

“Not quite,” replied Fuego, proving his point; “we’ve been making progress when you idiots interrupted us.”

“Oh, no, how very clumsy of us,” replied the sarcastic human without a note of remorse or regret in his voice.

Fuego grunted in displeasure and Ayre suddenly realised that he liked the sarcastic human. He had an aloof air about him as though he didn’t care about anything whatsoever, but his dark eyes held a look of shrewdness and intelligence about them that was hard to miss. Ayre thought that he could be a scholar by nature just like Ayzu and wondered whether he knew things about the human kingdom that could be of use to him.

He had an angular face and a permanently sneering mouth and was taller than the other three humans. In fact, he appeared to be even taller than Ayre, which was impressive, because generally Ayre towered over other humans. Or maybe it was his spiky hairstyle that gave such an impression? There was a rope necklace around his neck with a pendant shaped like a huge fang hanging from it. Ayre was intrigued. Of course, it could have been a fang of a tiger for all he knew, but Ayre’s first thought was that it was a fang of a dragon.

“Here I thought you’d be pleased to see us –”

Smirking, the spiky-haired human wiggled a small pouch in the air. Ayre watched in wonder as Fuego’s attention instantly shifted and focused on it with intensity that were he a dragon would have turned that pouch into cinder. What could it be to affect such a change over him? All Ayre could say was that it wasn’t gold.

Fuego, in the meantime, clasped his hands before him and doubled over in a low bow above water in sign of gratitude. Then he turned around and flashed Ayre a wide grin. “I must go now,” he said, suddenly dropping his grin and his voice to a murmur that washed over Ayre like a caress, “But you can be sure that I’ll be seeing you in my dreams tonight. See you around!” He winked and walked away, leaving a very stunned Ayre behind.

Ayre was somewhat comforted when Fuego’s spiky-haired companion picked up his clothes and threw them at him, saying with disgust in his voice that he didn’t enjoy the sight of his dangling bits. Ayre started when they all burst out laughing. Realising that he had been staring at the human’s naked behind, he quickly dropped his gaze and plunged underwater.

Afterwards, he scrubbed himself raw. He felt like scrubbing the inside of his brain. He was furious with Fuego and he was furious with himself, falling for his tricks like that! The human male had obviously satisfied his curiosity about his tattoos and didn’t want anything more to do with him. Ayre could barely control his anger at the thought.

He spent the whole night at the temple, clearing his mind and focusing on more important things that lay before him. The next night he decided to put his plan into action and study the royal palace from high above in hopes of getting a better idea about the kingdom’s military resources and defences. Unfortunately, that foray didn’t accomplish much.

Ayre had waited until the inhabitants of the city fell asleep before transforming into his dragon form and taking to the skies. He couldn’t resist making several large loops above the city with his wings stretched as far as they would go; his translucent scales vibrating with excitement. He had used a spell that would make his larger than life dragon form to appear non-corporeal.

To other dragons he would look like nothing more than a shimmering outline – to a human eye he would be virtually invisible. He did resist the temptation to send a few celebratory volleys of fire into the air – but just barely. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed flying until he got to fly again. Having recollected the purpose of his flight, Ayre stopped and looked down, piercing the night with his gaze.

This was the first time he laid his eyes on the royal palace and, though he had heard it described as the most magnificent building in the kingdom, he could not quite imagine what he would find upon finally seeing it. He had already had an idea about how extravagant humans could be when it came to houses and temples, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the royal palace. Ayre’s first thought was that it was a spectacular study in abundance and overindulgence. His second thought was that Aybo and his mate would absolutely love it. It was a far cry from their caves inside the mountain. “No wonder Aybo craves what humans have,” thought Ayre to himself. “He has always hated our simple way of life.”

Having concluded his observations, Ayre could tell how many columns, courtyards, gardens, fountains, birdcages, umbrellas, palms, balconies, galleries, windows, doors, and fancy staircases there were. He could tell how many dragon heads decorated its pointed rooftops and even take stock of each and every precious stone that decorated its whitewashed walls.

He could draw a detailed map of its exterior but even his keen eyesight couldn’t see through its walls to learn whether there were any secret passageways or underground tunnels that could be penetrated or how many cannons and catapults they possessed or whether there were special enclosures where they kept, raised, and trained elephants for battle.

Outwardly, in the glow of lanterns he could find no visible defences other than a squadron of palace guards they seemed to rely on the most; they carried spears and stood at multiple entrances, while tigers prowled the grounds. They seemed completely defenceless otherwise. These guards could hardly be called warriors and their numbers were too small to pose any real threat. Ayre was sure that they were so used to a peaceful life, they wouldn’t even know how to defend themselves against a sudden attack.

The problem was that Ayre didn’t want Aybo to know that. If only he could report back that they were so well armed and guarded that it would be a mistake to invade them! Ayre so desperately wanted humans to have means to protect themselves that he was willing to explore every inch of the kingdom in order to find something that would lend truth to such a report.

He had little hope that he would find below the royal palace a complicated labyrinth of tunnels used for military purposes, but he was too desperate not to have a look if only he could find a way to get there. He told himself that just because there were no outward signs of their readiness to repel his brother’s invasion, didn’t mean that they weren’t prepared. “Though peaceful and friendly, they might yet prove to be fierce warriors,” he told himself. He wanted to believe that! Unfortunately, believing something didn’t make it true.

EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter eight

Ayre would have rather had his wings clipped than admit that he was disappointed when he didn’t see the sight of the pretty human male waiting for him outside the caves at the end of his shift the next day. He had been thinking about Fuego ever since his abrupt departure, his grin forever etched in his memory, his final words still echoing in his head. I’ll see you around! It was a promise, wasn’t it? Ayre knew that promises were sacred among dragons and humans alike and so he was convinced that Fuego would continue his pursuit the next day. He had trouble closing his mind and falling asleep that night, going over their encounter and wondering whether he should have been more gracious towards him.

“Nu Ayre, what’s with you today?” asked a middle-aged treasure-hunter who was walking next to him along a massive wooden drawbridge that led into the city.

“What do you mean?” asked Ayre, blinking in surprise; he was so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed that he had a companion.

“It’s the way you brood today,” replied the treasure-hunter with a chuckle. “It is different from your usual thoughtful silence.”

Ayre looked at him in further surprise.

“My usual thoughtful silence?”

The elderly human nodded.

“You don’t talk much but you listen a lot. You absorb every word that you hear and you usually look like a starved child in a sweetshop.”

Ayre was alarmed to realise that his eavesdropping manner hadn’t been as inconspicuous as he had believed it to be.

“Today you don’t talk and you don’t listen. Today you brood, brood, brood… So what are you brooding about, nu? Or – ” he paused and looked slyly at him “ – should I say ‘who’?”

“Who?”

The elderly human pointed at Ayre’s stupefied face with his gnarled blackened finger. “You won’t fool an old man like me. This kind of brooding usually means one thing.” He grinned, stretching his broad flat face even wider and exposing his missing teeth. “What’s her name?”

Ayre, graceful since birth, stumbled over an uneven piece of bamboo plank. Partly, Ayre’s unusual attack of clumsiness could be attributed to the shock that he felt upon hearing the treasure-hunter’s words and realising that he had so easily guessed at the nature of his brooding if not the exact details. Another reason was the impatient jostling of the other treasure-hunters around them that had considerably intensified now that they had reached the city gates. Before Ayre could reply, they were swept off the bridge into the winding street and soon lost each other out of sight in the crowd. Ayre sighed with relief as his ears were filled with chatter of too many voices intermingled with bursts of laughter, music and susurration of the river below.

The drawbridge, Ayre knew, would be lifted as soon as it would be cleared, leaving a wide gaping ravine between the caves and the city. Then a large squadron of royal guards would take their place on special platforms stationed around the mountain on different levels, accessible only from within the caves, to make sure that no one would sneak inside at night or had stayed behind after the shift. Ayre assumed that they were using secret passageways, well-concealed within the walls of the rocks that formed the mountain, but he hadn’t had a chance to look for them yet as another set of guards kept watching over the treasure-hunters throughout their shift, making sure that they didn’t stray from their designated area and that no gem, no matter how small, went missing down their clothes, which were thoroughly checked before they were allowed to step outside.

Though it was true that Ayre didn’t talk much, he would on occasion ask questions about the history of the human kingdom over a bowl of rice at the tavern whenever he found himself sharing a table with his fellow treasure-hunters. Their tongues were usually quite loose at the time under the effects of white spirit they loved to imbibe after their long shift in order to help them to relax. Ayre had discovered that after dragons disappeared (though, naturally, none of the humans were aware of that part) and the caves were left unattended, there were so many cases of theft that the royal family issued a decree by which any person found on site would be executed without a trial. Later, they would hire the first group of treasure-hunters to work down there. However, to ensure that no one was tempted by the riches of the caves that belonged to the royal family (Ayre could just imagine the furious look on Aybo’s face if he ever heard that), they ordered to have a deep moat dug out and a drawbridge built that would connect the caves with the city during the day but separate them during the night.

Then tragedy struck. Ayre’s father would probably say that it was just punishment for human’s greed that befell them. But something went wrong during the digging of the moat and the water from the river that flowed down the mountain flooded the valley where the human kingdom was tucked in between a mountain on one side and sloping hills covered with bamboo forest on the other. Most of the dwellings, including the royal palace, which towered above the rest of the kingdom in the very centre of the valley, were swept away, forever disappearing under water, while countless lives were lost. For a while the city turned into a floating mass grave and was a ghastly sight.

The royal family was not in the city during the flooding and never took responsibility for all the deaths. Instead, they gave each surviving family a gem for each lost life and invited foreign experts to help them deal with the undesirable consequences of their actions. The bodies were caught out like fish and placed in rows on an enormous bamboo raft (Ayre imagined that it must have been as wide and as long as the drawbridge) that had been prepared beforehand. Once the bodies were dry, the monks performed their traditional farewell rituals and the dead were set on fire.

There were attempts to drain the flooded kingdom next, but because of its extremely low situation, much of its land could not be recovered from its watery grave. It was now broken into hundreds of small islets of irregular shape, divided and intersected by channels of water wide enough for narrow boats to navigate them. The city now became a floating city with survivors now living on boats and occupying themselves with fishing and collecting water plants, while the islets were used for cultivation of rice. They were inhabited chiefly by monks whose task it was to oversee the crops. The biggest island was to be the home of the new temple.

However, neither the floating city nor the islets were big enough for the royal family that needed to accommodate not only their palace but also their harems and their courtiers. That’s why they cut down the bamboo forest that covered the sloping hills, fortified them with white stone, and built another part of the city for the royals and the rich. By virtue of its situation it was called the High City. From the bottom of the valley its winding streets looked like stands of a coliseum, leading upwards towards the crowning jewel of the High City – the royal palace.

It naturally followed that the other part of the city would be known as the Low City. Sprawling at its feet in a chaotic fashion, it gradually acquired bridges and ladders that connected the islets in an almost maze-like style with rickety streets that went whichever way (including upwards) and which locals navigated with practiced ease among bamboo plants and mangrove trees that grew all around and that children climbed like monkeys.

Ayre was making his hurried way towards his usual bathing spot, barely touching shifting planks beneath his feet and jumping over gaps in bridges that appeared through merciless wear and tear. The piece of rock with the pool of water he had taken a fancy to was located away from the Low City behind a curve not easily accessible as it lacked ladders and bridges and as such regarded as uninhabitable, which stopped most people from venturing there. Despite his original intention, Ayre decided not to change his favourite bathing spot, convincing himself that it wasn’t because he was hoping that Fuego would stop by again, but simply because it was a really good spot and he was unlikely to find one just as secluded.

If he had spent more time washing himself than usual, there was no one to point it out to him. He had been listening intently for the approaching footsteps but Fuego never came. On his way back to the city, Ayre berated himself for making a tactical error when he chose to rebuff Fuego’s advances rather than welcome them. Having carefully studied the situation from different angles just like he was taught during his training, he concluded that if he had been a little bit quicker (if only he hadn’t been taken so completely by surprise), he would have surely known to use the human male’s attentions towards him in order to learn some valuable information and maybe even gain access to the High City, which was open only to humans who belonged to the upper class or those from the lower class who they hired to look after their houses, gardens, and animals.

Ayre heard that because the streets there were so sturdy the upperclassmen could use elephants as their preferred means of transportation. Ayre had never seen an elephant in his life (animals didn’t like dragons and stayed away from their settlements) but he had seen their impressions and he had often heard their sonorous trumpet-like calls since his arrival. Ayre was pretty sure that Fuego belonged to the upper class and as such could easily take him there. Perhaps he was even familiar with the royal palace Ayre desperately wished to infiltrate.

He ate alone as none of his fellow treasure-hunters were around and then went to the temple to calm himself down and subdue any thoughts about Fuego that continued to wash over him like waves on a tempestuous sea. He tried pushing them away but his mental efforts failed him. Ayre wondered if his neglect to meditate for so long had weakened his abilities and vowed to meditate every single morning and evening from now on. Just before he entered the temple, he sternly told himself that it didn’t matter that Fuego hadn’t sought him out again. He would find another way to get into the royal palace. He could always wait till dark and fly over the city in his dragon shape, making himself invisible and studying the palace from above.

The human temple bore unmistakable testimony to the human belief that their land was blessed with protection and prosperity by a formidable dragon race, because its walls and its many pointed roofs were decorated with dragon-shaped symbols. Inside before the altars there were round platters with gold leaf imprints of dragons among red and orange flowers; there stood silver bowls with incense and oil and tall yellow candles burning in silver candle-holders. The scent was so overpowering that when Ayre stepped foot inside the temple for the very first time, he had a sneezing attack that almost ended up with his setting the whole thing on fire. Luckily, the worshippers who were there at the time blamed it on the strong wind that knocked over several burning candles.

The temple consisted of the main hall where worshippers came to make merit and a long hall that connected the temple with a number of cell-like rooms for private worship. The rooms were equipped with a rough bamboo mat and a single candle. Somehow the scent was even stronger here. His mind already affected by the vapours, Ayre lit the candle, placed the mat in the centre of the room, and sat down. Crossing his legs before him and putting his hands on his knees, he closed his eyes and began to meditate.

Upon leaving the temple with the first rays of the rising sun, Ayre felt a profound sense of relief. His mind was unburdened and his spirit untroubled. He felt more clear-sighted than ever before and he was ready to implement his plan into action. He was focused throughout his shift down at the caves and even helped to clear several blocked passages by removing large pieces of solid rock with his bare hands to the astonishment of his fellow treasure-hunters, earning not only their praise but also their respect. He hoped that from now on there would be no more jokes about his delicate appearance, because he had shown them what he was really capable of; and it didn’t matter that they had no idea that as a dragon he was much stronger than any human could ever be.

A few days later Ayre was standing on an outcrop of a rock, taking off his shirt, when he heard a voice he didn’t think he would hear ever again coming from within a gap in an otherwise thick wall of bamboo plants that fringed the bank.

“Did you miss me?”

Ayre started in spite of himself before quickly covering up his reaction with a loud scoff.

Fuego, however, was grinning knowingly when he asked: “Did I scare you?”

Ayre’s dark eyes flashed with indignation. “What a ridiculous assumption,” he replied. “Just as your foolish insinuation that I had missed you.” Ayre crossed his arms on his bare torso and glared.

“I would have come sooner,” continued Fuego as though he hadn’t heard him, “but I was… detained.”

He began to take off his clothes.

“So… shall we swim… Ayre?”

Having said that, Fuego jumped into the pool and began to cut through its waters with a perfect breaststroke.

PIT BABE II, episode 4: thoughts, observations, questions...

I’m really loving this season so far! Every episode is full of tension and all kinds of deliciousness! Also, cinematically, each episode feels like a short separate film with its own special atmosphere, which is really great. This episode was just as exciting as the previous one. It had some really sweet and cute moments as well as some truly shocking ones. There were two scenes in particular that completely shocked me. One of those scenes was Manit’s murder at the hands of Winner on Tony’s silent order. It was absolutely brutal. I knew that Manit was about to go down as soon as he began to demand things from Tony (the look on Tony’s face said it all), but I had no idea that he would go down in such a horrible way. I was shocked and not a little scared. I guess that murder scene marked Winner’s point of no return. But was Manit only ever there to serve as Winner’s initiation ticket or will we see him again? I mean, the way people keep coming back from the dead, it makes one wonder. Tony has always been an excellent villain but now he gives off even more dangerous and deranged vibes. Speaking of Tony, I wonder if we will ever learn the story of his miraculous return to life. I wouldn’t mind seeing him regale Babe with all the particulars before doing something nefarious that only he is capable of. (Did I mention that I absolutely love Tony’s lair (and hair)? Interiors on this show are so good!) Another shocking scene was during Babe and Willy’s sparring match when Willy put his arms around Babe and actually kissed him on the shoulder. I did not expect that! My jaw dropped. How dare he?! Every episode Willy’s actions towards Babe become more and more provocative and every episode we see more and more of his true face. I never had any doubts that Willy’s single-minded determination to get in Babe’s face was part of some plot, but in this episode it became obvious that Willy actually hates Babe. So, whatever he is doing or whoever’s orders he is following, it is very much personal to him. Is he Tony’s biological son, I wonder? I think Babe never bought into Willy’s I’m-your-big-fan schtick. However, it was only during the hospital scene in the previous episode that he began to have an inkling that Willy isn’t just a nuisance. Then he learned that Willy had been behind the wheel of the car that had hit him, so now he wants to find out why Willy is pursuing him and what his true intentions are. Babe tried asking him directly and, when Willy denied everything, decided to change tack. I don’t believe even for a second that Babe believed Willy’s words and I’m convinced that his apology was just a ploy to keep Willy off this track while he finds another way to find out the truth. In the preview for the next episode there is another scene between them where it looks like Willy might be using some powers on Babe. Babe looks like he is resisting but Willy might have the upper hand. Returning to the current episode, I was glad that Alan and Jeff resolved their issues. Their altercation was painful to watch. Naturally, I enjoyed each Babe and Charlie scene – they were particularly sweet in this episode and they are my favourites, so I turn all mushy when I look at them. But there were also things that I didn’t enjoy. I must say that I don’t trust Chris. In fact, I don’t like his character at all. There is just something slippery about him that puts me off. His relationship with Pete, which progressed during this episode, doesn’t sit well with me. Maybe I’m too old-fashioned, but I’m not a fan of such relationships. Pete is Chris’s boss, which puts Chris in a subordinate position. However, Chris discovered Pete’s strange (inexplicable, really) fascination with Way and decided to use the fact of their striking similarity to his advantage by giving Pete what he assumes he wants. This puts Pete in a more dependent position, because it is Pete who craves intimacy and connection, whereas for Chris (I’m sure) it is a calculated way (no pun intended) to get something out of him. He obviously has an ulterior motive, because I don’t think that he is into Pete at this point, which makes this whole storyline extremely distasteful. So what is Chris up to? What is he after? Why does he know so much about Way? Is he supposed to? Does he have a connection to Way? Is he in any way connected to Tony? How did Tony get his hands on the same serum they are developing at the lab? A coincidence? I don’t think so. Now the question is whether as the story unfolds we will get the answers to these and many other questions or whether it is simply the case of some shoddy writing? I hope it’s the former! I love a good guessing game and so far this season has been giving us a lot of things to digest, discuss, and dissect. Yet I must say that I am a bit worried about the writing here, because some dialogues sound confusing and awkward and sometimes characters’ words make no sense. It could be blamed on translation, I suppose, though sometimes I get the feeling that the script was rushed and not polished enough, leaving a lot of inconsistencies and illogicalities. Having said that, I must praise the production of the show. It’s truly on another level. As well as the acting. Can’t wait for the next episode!

EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter seven

Ayre hoped that the stranger would take the hint and leave him in peace. He was standing waist deep in water but it wasn’t hard to imagine that he was completely naked below. As always he had left his clothes on an outstanding ledge of a rock above, where he usually put them back on after he allowed his body to dry in the warm rays of the setting sun. The problem was that he would have to jump out of water and part with its protection in order to climb the ledge and to get to his clothes and he really didn’t want to show his naked backside to a total stranger.

Ayre narrowed his eyes in irritation but quickly ordered himself to keep his temper in check when he felt his nostrils flare, reminding himself in Ayzu’s calm but stern voice that he didn’t want to give himself away by emitting jets of fire. He had been neglecting his meditation exercises ever since he entered the world of humans. Perhaps, a trip to the nearest temple was in order. He knew that there were chambers that one could use in order to pray and meditate in solitude. Ayzu would surely approve.

Ruefully, Ayre recalled his last conversation with his brother during which he assured him that he had no intention of showing his naked back to humans. So much for that. Now both his back and his backside were in danger of being exposed.

Why wasn’t this human leaving?

Ayre moved slowly towards the ledge of the rock that cast an elongated shadow across this part of the pool and from which a jet of water streamed down. Ayre let his long hair loose and ducked under the stream to wash it. Shielded by the water, Ayre had an advantage of looking from the corner of his eye at the bank where the young man was still standing and watching him.

He had straight black hair swept carelessly to one side; a silver earring in the shape of a curved dagger studded with diamonds was dangling from one ear. Ayre noted that his attire looked similar to what other young human males usually wore yet there was something strikingly different about him. If Ayre didn’t know better, he would say that he also was where he wasn’t supposed to be.

Ayre snorted; well, that was true enough, wasn’t it? He had no business disturbing him after a long working day down in the caves. Ayre didn’t get tired like humans did, but he was used to something much more exciting than crawling through narrow tunnels, looking for precious stones. Besides, without proper knowledge how to keep them clean and well-aired, the caves became extremely dirty and stifling, permeated with awful dampness, especially during the rainy season, that seeped into their walls, that were plastered with large patches of mildew, making them soft and causing occasional rockfalls.

Many men who worked down there suffered from lung congestion and horrible coughs that often wracked the caves. Ayre, who was used to vast plains and even vaster skies, was glad to get out of there and breathe in some fresh air, which was too humid for his liking after the arid soil and scorching sun of his native land – but it was still better than spit and sweat of hundreds of men all cooped up together under the ground.

The young human male continued to stare, his full lips slightly parted, his dark hooded eyes filled with hunger and intent. Ayre suddenly realised that he knew that look and understood the intent behind it. In shock his hand went still in his hair. He had seen this look many times on the faces of young treasure-hunters when they looked at young females who caught their eye and who they wished to pursue. During his observation he noticed that what followed was a somewhat baffling game during which a male made his move, while a female (even despite her obvious interest) made an attempt to resist – at least at first. A successful pursuit usually ended in very loud and very active mating.

This was very different from how such things worked in his land. No one approached anyone or propositioned anyone just because someone caught someone else’s eye. If they behaved like that, it would surely cause chaos in their society and destroy not only their hierarchy but the way they lived. Ayre had had enough time to compare dragons and humans to notice that perhaps the biggest difference between them was that humans were much more emotional and expressive. On the other hand, male dragons (unlike female dragons before their complete extinction) weren’t in the habit of relying on something as unstable as emotions, which was why they kept them under control through strict discipline of constant meditation and training.

Of course, there weren’t as many dragons as there were humans to begin with, mainly because they didn’t mate and breed with such practiced ease, but they lived much longer lives than humans and a lifespan of one dragon probably equaled at least five generations of humans. Besides, each clan zealously guarded the purity of their bloodline against ruin. Female dragons used to be accused of polluting and weakening their bloodlines by choosing to mate with male humans and producing half-breeds. That choice became detrimental to their survival as it brought upon them a terrible plague that eventually took them all away. Ayre’s father said that it was just punishment for angering their guardian spirits by rejecting their own kind.

Another difference between mating habits of humans and dragons was that every interaction conducted between dragons had a certain purpose: to find a suitable sparring partner or a mate for life in order to form a military or a political alliance. And then there was The Great Dragon Book of Mating that taught young dragons all they needed to know about the mating process, which usually took place after the courtship and the bonding ceremony. According to their customs, courtship could be initiated by either side if both clans were equal in standing or by a higher clan if they wished to ally themselves with a lower clan.

However, the selection of a mate was usually a very long and laborious process, which was why very few dragons actually mated unless their clans required something that other clans possessed. That’s why young dragons started practising mating long before they settled upon a mate by arranging for a mate partner in the same manner they arranged for a sparring one. Ayre was considered too young by dragon standards to know anything about mating, but he knew that as far as humans were concerned he was just in his prime.

So did the young human male now ogling him want to pursue him? Did he want to be his mate? A sudden flush covered Ayre’s skin. If he had been in his dragon form, his scales would probably rustle with pleasure. He had never been pursued before. At this point Ayre gave himself a mental shake. It didn’t really matter what the pretty human male’s intentions were or how the thought of being pursued by him made Ayre feel. Before entering the human kingdom, Ayre made himself a promise not to get close to any of the humans he was to encounter during his stay here, because the thought of betraying them was unbearable.

Ayre made up his mind. He stepped out from under the stream of water and pulled his wet hair into a ponytail, without realising how enticingly his muscles rippled under the splatter of gilded droplets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said. He used the phrase he often heard human females use on such occasions. He was hoping that it would put an end to this unwelcome intrusion – yet it seemed to have an opposite effect on his opponent:

“Is it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and making a step forward. “Does the sunset complain when we admire its beauty?”

At that moment Ayre could have clipped his own wings. He had clearly miscalculated. He had forgotten that it was also part of the game as it provided the other party with an opening. Now that he thought about it, the human females used a playful tone of voice when saying that line, which usually encouraged the human males to move forward. But surely his tone of voice couldn’t be considered encouraging? Ayre was so confused that he couldn’t even remember what he had sounded like a moment before.

Suddenly Ayre heard voices and realised that the young human male wasn’t alone. There were at least three more human males with him. They were asking him what was taking him so long and calling him over to rejoin them. Apparently, they had plans in the city and wanted to hurry along. Ayre hoped that they would prevail in their cajoling, but the young human, whose eyes never left him, waved them away, telling them to go without him. His hesitation peaked their curiosity and they swarmed around him to see what was happening.

Ayre further retreated into the relative shelter provided by the ledge of the rock above his head just as the air rang with their stunned voices. He hated being the object of their attention, but what he hated even more was that after today he would have to find a new spot to bathe.

“Go away,” said the young human male when he noticed Ayre’s retreat. He spoke with authority in his voice – Ayre knew well what it sounded like from his dealings with his eldest brother. However, the human male’s companions were too interested in Ayre to notice; or else they were used to it and didn’t care. “You’re scaring him.”

“Who is he?” asked one of them.

“A water spirit?” suggested another.

“Hey, Fuego, do you need a fishing net, perhaps?” asked the last one; his voice was quite distinctive because it was filled with what Ayre knew was sarcasm.

Fuego smirked. “Oh, I will catch him with my bare hands.”

“Well, go on then, catch him before he slips away.”

“Hey,” said Fuego in a pleasant voice that was obviously aimed to make Ayre feel at ease. “Are you trying to set a record?”

Ayre didn’t know what he meant by that, so he didn’t reply, hoping that his silence would deter him from further attempts at a conversation.

“You must be pretty cold by now,” continued Fuego, obviously undeterred. “Come here. I’ll warm you up.”

He spread his arms in invitation. Ayre snorted under his breath. What a silly human!

“Fine. I’ll wait until you get cold.”

Then you’ll have to wait for a very long time, thought Ayre smugly, casting a little bit of his own magic around the water to make sure that it didn’t happen.

“By the way, what’s your name?”

Ayre tightened his jaw and remained silent.

“I don’t think it’s working,” drawled Fuego’s sarcastic companion. “Dear me, you seem to have no luck these days.”

“Ha-ha-ha.”

“Maybe he’s deaf?”

“Maybe he’s dumb?”

They all laughed.

“At least he’s pretty.”

“So how about that fishing net now, Fuego? At this point I think it’s the only way you will be able to get your hands on him.”

“Shut your mouth,” snapped Fuego again.

“Where would you even get one?” asked one of the other two companions.

“Do you even know how to use it?”

“How difficult can it be? Guh! This is boring! Fuego, let’s go! There’s plenty of other fish in the sea. Let him be. He clearly isn’t interested.”

“Go,” barked Fuego, not even looking at his companions. “I told you to leave, didn’t I?”

“Fine, we’re leaving!” snapped back the human male with a sarcastic voice. “As entertaining as it is to watch you humiliate yourself, we actually have better things to do. Come along, guys! We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

“Hey, don’t forget – ”

Ayre watched as Fuego took out something from the pocket of his trousers and threw it towards his companion, who caught it as nimbly as though he’d done it many times before. Ayre heard it jingle in the air and assumed that it was a pouch with gold.

Finally, the three humans left. Ayre didn’t realise that he was holding his breath until he started breathing again. At least now he had only one human to deal with. How difficult could it be?

“Are you deliberately trying my patience?” asked Fuego across the water. It was past sunset now. The sky was a soft muted violet of a watercolour painting and the place was wrapped in muffled silence.

“I am simply waiting for you to take the hint and leave,” replied Ayre.

“Ha!” Fuego’s face split into a wide grin. “So you are not deaf or dumb after all!”

“I am neither of those things, no,” replied Ayre with a frown; he was trying to figure out what had compelled him to break his silence so abruptly. He had known it to be a mistake, of course. So what happened? Was it weariness? Or, perhaps, hunger? Or was it something much more worrisome – something like a hidden desire to see what would happen next?

“Just playing me for a fool in front of my friends then?” asked Fuego, interrupting his thoughts.

“That was not my intention.” Fuego smirked.

“Will you finally tell me your name?” he asked. “I’m sure you’ve heard mine.”

“That was not my intention either.”

Fuego studied him with narrowed eyes.

“You are not a local, are you?”

“Do you know all the locals to assume as much about me?”

“There!” Fuego pointed a finger at him. “The way you talk. Locals don’t talk like that.”

Ayre sighed in defeat. “I am not a local.” Or a human, he thought to himself.

Fuego nodded. “So what’s your name?” he asked. “What should I call you?”

“There is no need for you to call me anything.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not staying long.”

“Then you have just given me a perfect reason to speed things up.”

“What are you talking about?”

Fuego didn’t reply. Instead, he kicked off his boots, pulled off his trousers, and practically ripped off his sleeveless shirt, revealing a lean sparsely muscled body underneath. Ayre stared and swallowed. Fuego, bathed in the warm violet hues that still prevailed, was enticing. Ayre’s skin flushed again, deeper red this time. Thankfully the night was fast approaching, so his full-body blush was well masked. Ayre opened his mouth to protest but it was too late.

Fuego was already wading his way through the dark water towards him. The first stars began to twinkle above their heads. Ayre turned his back towards him, not knowing what to do. On one hand, he was a trained dragon warrior and could overpower this puny human being in one single breath – but, on the other hand, he couldn’t do it unless he wished to give himself away. In other words, his hands were tied, which made him feel oddly vulnerable and uncertain; a feeling he wasn’t familiar with.

The moment Fuego reached him, his breath hit the back of Ayre’s neck, scattering so many goosebumps across his skin that even in as little light as was left of the day their appearance didn’t escape Fuego’s notice.

“I warned you, didn’t I?” whispered Fuego right from behind. “I told you that you’d get cold.”

Ayre balled his hands into fists, too aware of the human’s proximity. This was unacceptable. No one had ever stood this close to him outside of his training in the arena, but even then they were always separated by layers of cloth and armour. Unseen to the eye, each scarlet tunic bore a great number of protective enchantments that were carefully woven into their fabric, repelling the enemy and protecting their human body from injury.

Ayre shivered violently when Fuego began to blow air against the back of his neck.

“Stop it,” he growled.

Fuego stopped.

“What are these?” he asked next.

Ayre knew that he was talking about an array of intricate patterns covering his back. He could practically feel the human’s hungry eyes following their progress.

“Tattoos.”

“I know what they are.”

“So why do you ask?”

“What do they mean?”

“What do you think they mean?”

Fuego let out a frustrated breath.

“Do you always speak in riddles?” 

Ayre smirked, pleased that he had wrong-footed him at least a bit. “Perhaps,” he replied.

Ayre held his breath when he felt Fuego come to stand even closer. Surprisingly, he didn’t attempt to touch him, though his presence seemed to do that well enough on its own.

“What are you doing?” asked Ayre when Fuego didn’t speak for a while.

“I’m trying to figure out what they are.”

“And what is your conclusion?” asked Ayre, genuinely curious; he didn’t know what they would look like to a human eye because of the magic that his brother used to disguise their true purpose.

Fuego let out a sigh that once again sent an army of shivers down his spine. “It’s no use,” he said; “it’s too dark now. You will just have to let me see them during the light of day.”

“I’m busy down in the caves during the light of day,” replied Ayre without thinking.

“You’re a dirt-digger?!” spluttered Fuego.

“A dirt-digger?!”

Furious, Ayre whirled around and found himself nose to nose with Fuego.

“How dare you call me a dirt-digger?” roared Ayre, forgetting that he wasn’t a dragon prince in these parts.

“Well, isn’t that what you do?” asked Fuego, smirking at him. Ayre’s keen dragon eyesight discerned every little detail on his pretty face. “Dig in the dirt all day long, no?”

Ayre scoffed.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about,” he said, raising his chin so high it brushed the tip of Fuego’s nose.

Fuego burst out laughing.

“Things I don’t know anything about?” he asked. “Do you even know who I am?”

What a ridiculous question, thought Ayre; how could he possibly know that when he had never seen him before? However, he came up with the following response:

“You are obviously someone who enjoys pestering others and who doesn’t know anything about what is going down in the caves,” answered Ayre in a scolding manner reminiscent of Ayzu. “For your information, we do not dig in the dirt. We locate and extricate precious stones and we use special tools to do so. Now,” he continued upon realising that his little lecture had a rather stupefying effect on Fuego, “I have promised to meet some of my fellow treasure-hunters for an evening meal…”

It wasn’t strictly speaking true. Ayre had been planning on having a meal, though he hadn’t made any plans with the other treasure-hunters – yet it was entirely possible that after their usual trip to the temple some of them would proceed to the same tavern. It just occurred to him that it was a good enough excuse to provide someone as persistent as Fuego with.

“Very well,” replied the latter with a cheerful grin. “I’ll see you around!”

Ayre was still blinking in surprise as Fuego made his way back to the shore. “What a befuddling human!” he huffed in frustration, shook himself out of his stupor, and finally climbed onto the rock to dry. There, stretching his long naked form under the light of a crescent moon, he thought back on his encounter with Fuego.

He could not recollect ever feeling so many contradicting emotions at the same time. Fuego was… interesting. His looks were so enticing with those hooded slanted eyes and bow-like pouty lips, while his manners and his conduct were simply infuriating. As he stared at the stars above, Ayre wondered if Fuego would keep his promise and see him around.

EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter six

A loud sound of a gong reverberated through the dimly-lit cavern and marked the end of their daily shift. With a loud clatter (that echoed off the roughly-hewn walls and with little care for the damage they might cause) they dropped their heavy mining and carving tools and marched along the narrow tunnel towards the entrance. The floor of the cave shuddered underneath their heavy boots. The torches rattled in their brackets, splashing the walls of the cave with uneven light.

Ayre wasn’t among those who rushed to the entrance at the first sound of the gong nor was he among those who dawdled behind until the last echo of the gong settled down in the dust raised by their boots. He joined the main crowd of the treasure-hunters, as always trying to blend in so as not to stand out, which was a difficult thing to do as he was at least a head taller than anyone else — even when he stooped his shoulders and bowed his head.

As he followed the others along the tunnel, a low rumble of chatter slowly filled the air. Ayre didn’t need to strain his ears to know what they were talking about: the older treasure-hunters were grumbling about aches in their joints after crouching and digging for hours and hours until they could barely hold the tools in their bulging with veins hands, while the younger ones were making rowdy plans for the night. And then, of course, there were those who were talking about him.

Ayre thought that he had done a good enough job of blending in by adjusting his apparel according to the common fashion in these parts, but when he decided to use his superior dragon hearing in order to listen in on his fellow treasure-hunters’ conversation (he wanted to be done with this spying business as soon as possible), he was shocked to discover that quite apart from the fact that they weren’t discussing anything of secrecy or importance (that could justify his presence there) — he turned out to be the main subject of their conversation!

Despite his best efforts to look like any other young human male, his appearance had still caused quite a stir and his story about coming from a far-off village that didn’t keep in touch with the outside world wasn’t as convincing as he had hoped it would be. S, during his long daily shift down in the caves, that once belonged to his kind, looking for what humans called “treasure” without having any idea at all what it really was (he could just imagine the look of horror on their faces if they ever found out), he worked out the details of his backstory, intertwining reality with fantasy.

Ayre had studied humans from afar before finally venturing into their domain. He had adopted their fashion and swapped his long scarlet tunic for a pair of dark trousers and a sleeveless black top, but he kept his high ponytail, because he found that he couldn’t make himself get rid of his long hair. Aybo would definitely call him arrogant and vain, but he wasn’t here to pass judgment. At first Ayre wondered if he could have avoided attracting so much attention to himself if he had cut his hair short, but the more he listened, the more he was convinced that it wouldn’t have helped.

They all agreed that there was simply something different about him and that with such a pretty face and trim figure he would have better luck serving at a royal harem; apparently, it was a well-known fact that the youngest prince preferred male concubines. Ayre wondered if his magic nature and his dragon warrior training had given him a more prominent air. But what he found particularly disturbing was that some of the males here wished to commit acts of savagery against him that all seemed to include bending him over some surface.

Usually such comments caused a great burst of laughter from the younger treasure-hunters with a few words of rebuke from the older crowd, warning them not to scare Ayre away, because he turned out to be a surprisingly efficient treasure-hunter with a real nose for treasure. Ayre suspected that he might be missing something important. He had been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to understand them at all and was relieved when it turned out that their language, though not as refined, had retained many similarities with his own, even though there were many expressions and notions that were simply too human for him to comprehend.

But one thing that he found truly shocking was the existence and the constant presence of females. After all, female dragons had been extinct for as long as he could remember. But here there were a lot of human females – women – as many as males or even more. They looked quite different from males, having more curves and much larger bosoms. They wore long dresses and long hair, usually braided and decorated with headdresses of great invention. Ayre was fascinated by them and spent many hours studying them.

However, he had learned soon enough not to stare openly at them unless he wanted to be beaten up by their fathers, brothers or husbands. But he couldn’t stop watching them. They were so different from what he was used to. They were nothing like males. They fascinated him and frightened him at the same time. And then there were the little ones – the children – that usually stuck to them. They were curious creatures of constant motion and incredible lung capacity and Ayre’s eyes lit up every time he saw them run around the street, yelling and laughing and making havoc.

*

Once outside the caves, Ayre swiftly slipped through the evening crowd that filled the street and hurried towards the edge of the city in the direction of a pool of water well-screened from view by bamboo trees, where he usually washed away the dust and dirt of the cave. The others, he knew, would go home to do so, but he didn’t have a home and didn’t feel the need to acquire one. He was a trained dragon warrior and could make himself at home even on an outcrop of a cliff. He didn’t need a soft bed or a bathtub filled with heated water or even a roof over his head. After bathing in the pool, he usually returned to the city in his evening clothes to have a bowl of rice with fish and vegetables in a local tavern that he frequented in order to keep himself sustained as well as to gather information for his brother’s mad plan.

So far he hadn’t been very successful — he discovered that humans generally didn’t talk about anything of importance — unlike dragons who never talked about anything that wasn’t important, because every conversation and action had to produce a certain result — and they certainly didn’t discuss such important matters as their kingdom’s defences over a bowl of rice.

They did love to gossip, though, especially about the royal family that resided in the capital in a palace whose walls (and every inch of them too, according to the locals) were etched with precious stones that came from the caves. Ayre knew that the current king had three children: an older son, a middle daughter, and a younger son. The older children didn’t seem to be extremely gossip-worthy, because they were barely mentioned, but the youngest son was often discussed in connection with something or other.

Apparently, he had recently involved their kingdom in a scandal with another kingdom during their failed marriage negotiations and was asked to leave before his official visit was supposed to be concluded. He was expected back home any day now. Ayre assumed that he would receive some kind of punishment, because the king was reported to be beyond furious with his latest mischief. Everyone said that he was spending more and more time at the temple, praying for his son to come to his senses.

Ayre knew that if he dared to cause a scandal between two clans, Aybo would have clipped his wings and scaled him raw. This younger prince sounded as spoiled as Khun Pring and Ayre instantly disliked him. Another piece of gossip was about his predilection for something that — much to Ayre’s surprise — was referred to as “dragon powder”. Ayre discovered that this substance (that everyone spoke about in hushed whispers) was sold on the black market for so much gold that only very rich people could afford to purchase it and that it made the person who consumed it see wondrous visions.

Curious about its name more than about its properties, Ayre wanted to learn more about “dragon powder”, but, when he started asking about it, the treasure-hunters around him went very quiet before one of them – after exchanging a meaningful look with the others – took him aside and told him that “dragon powder” wasn’t something that he wanted to try, because it caused hallucinations so powerful that those who took it regularly fell completely under its spell. He also explained that the reason it was called “dragon powder” was because it was actually forbidden. That’s how Ayre discovered that in human language the word “dragon” was often associated with “danger”.

His father’s magic had worked. It had erased the fact of their existence from human memory but left behind a strong sense of their presence. The human mind had done the rest. The dragons were still very much present in their legends and beliefs but purely as mythical creatures of great power and strength.

Gradually, the human brain came up with their own explanation for an enormous dragon-shaped mountain range and caves filled with treasure, forming wondrous fairy-tales and legends about a formidable dragon race that blessed their land with protection and prosperity. Dragon-like shapes were popular motives for decoration.

Ayre was struck by how realistic those impressions looked and wondered why his father hadn’t completely erased them from human memory. Was it part of the magic that he used? Or did it not work properly for some reason? Or, perhaps, his father had deliberately decided to integrate their race into human culture -- benevolent yet terrible -- in order to keep humans in constant fear of them?

Ayre didn’t know the answer to that question and his father would never be able to give him one. He was sure that Ayzu would know the right answer, though. Ayzu knew everything. His favourite brother loved reading and learning and everyone agreed that he knew more than any dragon of his age or designation had any right to know. Ayre keenly felt Ayzu’s absence. He missed his presence, his advice, his guidance.

Without Ayzu telling him what to do and what not to do, Ayre had to make his own decisions and there wasn’t anyone to tell him whether they were good or bad. But surely a royal palace was a much more suitable place to look for secret information than an underground cave? Ayre had been hearing so much about the royal family and their royal palace that he was curious to see it all with his own eyes and to compare it with his own dwelling back home.

Ayre’s thoughts had suddenly come to an abrupt hall. His skin was on fire. That much was obvious. The question was why it was burning when he was standing up to his waist in water, his body covered in so many droplets. Ayre brushed his long dark hair out of his eyes, pulled it into a high ponytail, and turned his head to the side just enough to confirm that someone was watching him from the muddy bank.

A young man was standing among the bamboo trees, his dark eyes boring into Ayre’s back. He had one of those really sweet faces that instantly charmed, but his eyes were like two bottomless pits of sin. Ayre quickly turned away and continued to wash himself, pretending that he wasn’t bothered by the company of a total stranger or the scorching heat of his gaze.