The Prophesy: Book 2 - The Right Hand of Destiny

 

The Gold Dragon decided to stay and watch the interaction between the different species present in Eloise. He could have gone home to his mate, but he was sure the female was content with the moose he had brought her for breakfast a few days ago, and the eggs would be protected. He would go back to her the next day, picking up some food in the mountains along the way. He had seen a herd of reindeer in a valley some distance off east of where they were now, and an old bull would be lifted off after a quick, silent, swoop down from high above. A young bull would suddenly find his perspectives for some fun brighten considerably!

He walked carefully, not wanting to crush anything. As he studied the populace, he was surprised to see that little egglings¹⁹¹⁹ ("Egglings: hatchling, freshly hatched dragons."), for all he knew, were busy learning the proper use of a blade on mock-ups of swinging orcs or crocodiles. Older ones were exercising with arrows, and even older ones with longer blades. Some were elves, others humans. There was a group of tiny ones, fairies, doing exercises with their blowguns. Those too young to walk could be seen in what the humans and elves used as dens, under the watchful eyes of huge dogs. No, these were not dogs; they smelled different, more mature, and less childish. Wolves. These were wolves living with the elves and humans, in perfect harmony. There was that tiny human, no, again, he was making an error, his fine sense of smell told him, it was an Atlantean, pure blood at that, that rode on that silvery horse. And then again, something was odd about that horse. It was a horse, but it did not smell like one, but for the sake of his forefathers, he could not put his nose on it. Yet further, a group of dwarfs were practicing the axe throw, and another group was learning the use of a short bow under the supervision of an elf instructor. Unicorns were also found, and seemed to be learning the use of their magical core for offensive as well as defensive purposes, while a group of female coyotes kept an eye on their colts. Everything was geared for a prolonged war.

As he neared the northern door, he saw a group of horses of about a hundred head out on the road. Curious, he followed them from the stratosphere, and was surprised to see them head for a city some distance north, get loaded with goods by elves, and return to the city they had come from. No one seemed to tell them what to do, but he couldn't deny what he had seen: a pickup of some sort had occurred, done by horses, on their own, without any supervision, and in a perfect marching order. As he flew over the forest, he saw even stranger things: a wolf carrying a packet of sorts in his mouth crossing the forest, and as he met another, drop it to pick up what was beside the new wolf, turn right back and head at full speed where he had come from. He decided to follow the new wolf, and, two hours later, he saw the process repeat with yet another wolf. This happened five times before a dog picked up the package at a farm and made his way to another settlement and delivered the package to a wolf that seemed to be sitting, just watching the traffic at the gate. The wolf sentry picked the package and quickly made his way in the street, where his passage was marked by a wave of people and other animals moving out of the way, until he reached a bigger building. Another dog picked the package at the door and vanished inside. It took some doing, but the dragon, flying very low, managed to spot what looked suspiciously like the same dog, and the same package, where an elf was sitting down opening it. What could that be, pondered the Dragon Lord. He returned to Eloise in thought, landed off the side of the road and ambled in.

***

"Ah, the dragon is back!" exclaimed Samson, as he saw the golden mass walk by his window. "I wish we knew how to communicate with him. I wonder why we call it him, for all I know it could be a she. I've never been able to tell the difference between sexes in most animals except mammals, and dragons definitely do not fall under that category."

"It's a he," replied with authority Thorsten, to the gaping jaws of his parents. Never would Thorsten have said anything with any semblance of confidence before, much less to a king!

"If you say so, Prince Regent. I have my doubt, but I am not going to ask him to roll on his back so I can check your assessment of his gender!"

The image of Samson walking on the underbelly of the giant dragon to check for evidence just tickled everyone's funny bone, and the room exploded in laughter at a reddening King.

"How can you be sure? I reckon you did not do what Samson so artfully suggested?"

"No, Thor, he told me."

Harp was still hugging his ribs, and every time he looked at Samson, another serious fit of giggling burst forth.

"What is so funny, Harp?" asked Samson, getting annoyed.

"I can just picture you saying 'Tootsie! Roll!²⁰²⁰ ("Tootsie Roll is an American candy manufacturer.")' and you expecting the dragon to do just that!"

Samson blushed almost crimson, as the other royals laughed their head off.

"First, Thorsten, get over the protocol; we are between friends and close family here. Call me Harold, like everyone else. Second, what do you mean you talk to him?"

Thorsten looked at his dad and mother, wanting reassurance about the protocol issue.

"Do what Harold says, Thorsten. It would become mightily heavy if we all began throwing titles at each other all the time. Just look at the length of Harold's and you will understand that addressing him with all due protocol would make any exchange rather impractical."

"OK, dad. Harold, I sort of read him."

"Telepathically?"

"No, I can do that with all of you, I guess, although I have not tried. I just read his posture. His body does the talking for him, and I guess mine does as well, because we can exchange things that way, sort of."

"That is an interesting idea, Thorsten. How precise is that body language?"

"I have no idea, Harp, however I doubt it can be used to be duplicitous. That would require way too much control."

"That's probably why preachers used to wear clothes from head to foot, in the old days," remarked Sitar, having a flashback on the ancients' clothing customs.

"Why put it only there, Sitar? The crocodile priests do exactly the same! If people had known how they looked, I doubt they would have had any chance at survival within our communities," Paschal replied.

"Paschal's right, Sitar. How many people have we met that hid their true nature behind clothes? It goes from Franz on to the candy-maker we conscripted that other day after a wolf caught him having sex with a child. I am sure quite a few hide what they are behind masks of tissue. I remember a saying from the Ancients that still applies today: The Devil wears a monk's cassock."

"If you are refering to a piece of cloth that looks like a black dress or robe with a hood, he still does. That is what Lucifer is wearing out there in his cocoon! And given how he looks under after the Burning, I can understand the reason."

"Thorsten's description fits my recollection of the dresses worn by the Elohim Fallen. I guess the battle was not without casualties on their aesthetics. But how did you know their looks under these garments? If I recall, we never captured a single body to examine it. Each time we managed to 'dispose' of one, it burst in fire and was reduced to dust."

"I sort of saw what was under when I blasted Lucifer off. I have a vague recollection of red skin, like it had been burned to the third degree, and squamous surfaces, suppurating continuously. I did not see humps that would indicate wings of any kind or even stomps. But that doesn't mean anything. After all I cut the dragon's wings cleanly and there is no reason the same thing was not done to the Banned Ones at the Banning. I would not put it beyond the Elohim to show such cruelty!"

< Hey there! Check your language, young one! >

< Did you or did you not, Gabriel? > After waiting for a reply for a second or two, Thorsten concluded his exchange with < Silence admits guilt. >

The flash of fury in Thorsten's eyes did not go unnoticed by Harold. Harp looked up at his dad and his eyes told the king he had seen the same and was worried.

***

The family reunion came to an end as vesper's repast finished. Thorsten had kept silent for most of the meal, contrary to his newfound exuberance, and that troubled the other royals considerably. Something was disturbing him, and his pensive mood gradually enveloped the others, cutting off the evening's fun time. The fact that Thorsten decided to take a stroll alone finally brought home the seriousness of the situation to everyone. Thorsten was left to walk off on his own, but every royal, every canine, equine, unicorn, dwarf and fairy was on alert for anything unusual. Timor followed him from a distance, and the anxiety even reached the dragon, who got as worried as the other ones.

Thorsten made his way to a headland that gave a beautiful view of Lake Eloise, and, standing, began to think and think and think.

< Gabriel! >

< Yes? >

< As you used my brain to think things out during the battle with Lucifer, I was not really able to grasp what the memories I received from you meant. Since then I've had time to sort them out. >

< And? >

< Let me tell you a story, Gabriel, your story. The story you have been hiding from all of us. >

< I love stories. Please tell. >

< I doubt you will like that one. It starts with a life form that desperately needs food, like any life form, but a very special food: it feeds on spiritual energy, the soul, for lack of a better word. Now, soul-bearing species are rare in the universe, very rare, because for a soul to be, there must be a minimal neural activity, a critical brain mass. Most life forms are below that level, in the form of bacteria, viruses, plants, and what we could best catalogue as vegetative animal forms. Now, in their peregrinations, this life form has been able to live by, numbering few, and dispersed, gleaning on meagre resources, mostly low-potential animal life, somewhat equivalent to the Earth's reptiles. This goes on for eons, and they are constantly warring against each other, competing for their food. They are hunter-gatherers of spiritual energy, and like most hunter-gatherer societies of any type, they have hunting grounds, go at war when they collide for resources, and so forth. >

< A very interesting story. Continue on. >

< Here comes the interesting part Gabriel. A group happens to cross path with a rich planet, whose spiritual potential is untapped. As they begin harvesting, a subgroup begins to consider it might be better to farm the life forms rather than practice mass reaping and leaving behind a desolate world. These herders want to minimise the culling of the spiritual energy bearers to the minimum sustainable required to feed their numbers. The others want to continue the good old ways: reap until you burst, and the first of many wars ensues. After a protracted war that decimates both the food and the soul eaters, a truce is reached, and the leading party at the time, the herders, begins managing the resources, now a lot more restricted. They notice that there is a lot of potential in the life forms and that one group in particular seems to show promising signs of becoming a vast reservoir of food, if they can just find a way to guide its evolution that way. Thus is born the project to selectively select those with the most potential for spiritual energy, and encourage them to reproduce, while feeding on the less promising specimens. It's like pork: you eat the thin ones and let the fat ones reproduce. In twenty years, you have bigger pork. This is the same process here: you feed on the feeble-minded and let the more spiritual reproduce. In the long run, you end up with bigger reservoirs. >

< Very interesting, > replied Gabriel, getting worried as the story unfolded.

< The problem is that with more capacity at spirituality comes better capacity to think, therefore a more rebellious chattel. Try as they might, the soul eaters could not produce more of one without getting more of the other. Genetic selections were tried, and invariably led to disasters. Frustration set in, and the rebellious faction, who had been waiting on the side for just such an occasion, decided to kick the butts of the farmers. Another major war ensued, and the animals that had been held in captivity used the events to make a run for it. Better be free than in an Eden waiting to be converted to food! >

Had Gabriel been able to sweat, he would have done so. Taking a break to organize his thoughts, Thorsten resumed.

< Now, even if the sheep run out of the butcher's stalls, they aren't free! They have the illusion of freedom, but they still are herded, but with more legroom, that's all. The soul eaters just let them roam, knowing they could not go anywhere. Albeit taken by surprise the herders managed to prevail and the hunter-gatherer party paid a heavy price for their revolt. They could not be killed, but they could be tortured, and they were, savagely, before being banned. The rebels were burned alive, and became mad from the suffering; they became unable to reproduce except by stealing the kernel of other living life forms. They hate life and want to die, but they cannot. Satisfied with their actions, the soul shepherds let them loose on the world, and resumed their project, to create the perfect, fat spiritual pig, dumber than a rock. Unfortunately, they could not do it, because the second war had destroyed their laboratories, and the so finely controlled breeding experiment had been ruined during the revolt. >

< Thorsten, you are skimming very near anathema. >

< Before claiming such, Gabriel, let me finish my story. There is a lot more to it. As the soul shepherds could no longer do their experiments under controlled conditions, they resorted to another method. Wild population culling, and they needed a way to periodically induce this. Now, one of the soul eaters had a genial idea. They weren't interested in the body, but only in the spiritual energy. Now, the life forms had deified the soul eaters: who wouldn't? They had the capacity to do things the low-technology soul-bearers couldn't even understand. Given enough technological advance, anyone can pass for a god. And that served the soul-eaters perfectly. There was born religion. It served its role very well. It enslaved the mind, made for incessant causes of wars, thus feeding the soul-eaters. All sorts of rituals, each one more barbaric than the other, satisfied the need for gore of the soul-eaters, who could feed on emotions as a side dish. Religions were first anchored in cannibalism, then human sacrifices, then it moved to less devastating if not less traumatic experiences. Circumcision, sub-incision, scarification, and all occasions to cause pain without effectively killing the recipient of the delicate attentions were devised. Justice was based on maximizing pain, and making it last. Even games were turned into horror shows. Who can best feed their ravenous appetite than an entity that can anticipate pain and its horrors? And the intellectual prowess of their feedstock at finding new ways to inflict it added to their fun. Wars, at first limited in scope, gradually engulfed the entire planet, but the capacity at multiplication of their livestock was such it did not bother the soul-eaters. They had found the perpetual food supply! The banned ones, insane from unending pain, contributed to the mayhem, until, one day, they detonated an explosive so powerful it destroyed them, save for a few. They had found their release, much to the dismay of their tormentors. That brought to the attention of the herders the need to halt, if not reduce the technological progress of their food supply. A new religion was born to put stops into the effort at advancement. It worked, but only for a time, and only for some. Gradually, the momentum resumed with the consequence that, one day, another cataclysmic war occurred, almost wiping out the livestock of the soul shepherds. It was not the first time global disasters had stuck down their projects. First, another life form had found their nursery, and installed itself but they were not interested in feeding off the spiritual capacity of the indigenous life form. Instead, they wanted to promote its autonomy, its independence, because they needed allies. And they discovered they could interbreed, another rather exceptional thing. They joined the natives in fighting the soul-eaters. Unfortunately, nature destroyed their home base, as well as most of the food supply of the soul-eaters. It had two effects: it sped up the interbreeding, and the capacity of the natives to think by themselves. Initially, the result was not that great, but it took more and more importance as the recessive genes spread in the native population. The new life form's genes had another, unexpected consequence: the soul eaters found out that their livestock was becoming toxic, much like plants develop insecticide! Furious, they triggered yet another cataclysm, intent on wiping out the offending hybrids. To prevent their numbers from suffering from the upcoming starvation, they put most of their members in hibernation, and then triggered the Nuclear War. But as with all plans, it had a gain of sand in the wheels! They had forgotten that recessive genes come out and become apparent when their dominant genes get eradicated. Their enemy of ever had survived hidden in the genes of the population, and once the breeding began anew after the war, they resurfaced with a vengeance! >

< That is a very interesting story, but what gives? >

< You are a soul snatcher, Gabriel! You are a shepherd! You were left as Guardian all right, to keep watch on the rebuilding livestock and wake up your brethrens when things would be all right! You are as banned as the others! Lucifer is a hunter-gatherer. And you are faced with a dilemma. The population you are faced with is emerging as Atlanteans not what you had expected. Even worse, they can resist your influence. You believe you can use me as a Trojan horse to enter the psyche of the Atlanteans, but you are wrong! I will not betray Harp for you! Have you even tried feeding off my soul? Try it! You will notice I'm even more toxic than the Atlanteans, spider of the mind! All these poor prophets got mad not because you gave them the information too fast, but because they understood what you were doing and couldn't fight you, prevent you from manipulating them and using them for your own goals. You ate them at a slow rate, in an attempt to become desensitized, but it never worked. They did not live long enough, and got so mad their contemporaries had to kill them! You promised them things you never intended to deliver! >

< What tipped you off on my nature? It is the first time one of my hosts notices who I am before I have devoured it to the bone. >

< You rejoiced of the suffering of Lucifer. No representative of a loving God would have done so. Even I expressed sorrow at the events, and I certainly do not claim to be driven by any loving God! Then things began to add up: all the rituals of abuse, the torture of children to break them to your needs, all the religious perversions that have inhabited the world's history, from circumcision to infibulations to excision to castration and chastisement! And I'm missing quite a few! All centred on two objects: the control of sexuality, therefore of reproduction and breeding, and the production of pain. And then I remembered my history books, how farmers castrate the bull to make it docile! You were orchestrating the same for the humans! The more I put the pieces together, the more the horror of who you really were became apparent. No loving God would rejoice at the needless suffering of children, the widespread sexual abuse, approve or induce the numerous genocides and pogroms that churches have provoked and led, all the bloodshed. Each time humans were on the verge of attaining unity, you spurred the birth of another prophet, another division, and the rounds of religious wars would restart anew. Then another truth appeared to me: churches had always invited the consumption of mind-altering drugs, from mushrooms in ancient Greece to hashish in the middle east, the hotbed of all monotheist religions, to opiates in the far east. In America and elsewhere, the consumption of drugs usually preceded the most barbarous rituals, including human sacrifices and cannibalism! There was a reason for that: it eased your entry, like someone unlocks the door to the bank to let the robbers in. The emergence of monotheism as a concept was repressed severely, first in Ur, then in Sumer, and Babylon; it spread even as you tried to stop it, reaching Egypt with Amon, and then a little known people, the Jews, where it gained force until it exploded with the emergence of yet another attempt by you manipulative bastards at destroying humans into Christianity. Poor Jesus, how intense must have been his deception when he realised you had dumped him, and he cried, still believing in you, Father, why have you abandoned me? Oh, how you relished his anguish as you showed him what was to come! And then, less than fourteen hundred years later, just as Christians were on the verge of reaching yet again unity, you threw in another bomb, with Islam. Had the Islamists been taught to read and think rather than repeat blindly things, they would have noticed that their holy book takes a lot of verses from the Christian one and that their Islamic Law, the Sharia, is a carbon copy of the Judaic book of Laws, Leviticus. But the poor prophet was not born with any sense of critique and comparative analysis, like just about every prophet before him or since. In fact, doing so was considered a crime punishable by death. Had religious leaders possessed any logic, they would have acknowledged that if their theology was right, then calling the Creator God, Yaveh, or Allah had no importance whatsoever. In fact, pushing the reasoning to its logical conclusion, the Creator can bear any and all names, since he is unique. If, on the other hand, the jealousy and exclusiveness of their different gods was justified, then it makes good sense that there is more than one god, and that the most fundamental postulate of their theology was false! There is either a single one, and you can recognize it in any and all forms and names, or there are many, and monotheism is a fallacy! I, for one, believe that the Creator does not give a damn about all these stupidities! Rituals of whatever type are there only to appease the dumb masses you have been misleading for over sixty thousand years if not more! The Creator couldn't care less about that ridiculous monkey business, but you, on the other hand, value them immensely, Gabriel; you want to be adored because it feeds you, and you are willing to go as far as necessary to get that. Praise me, hate me, but think of me! You feed on emotions, Gabriel. That's probably why you so want celibate people: sexual frustration must be a staple of your diet, and when the poor sods can't hold back anymore and rape or satisfy themselves one way or another, the guilt they feel feeds you as well! Anything to generate a strong emotion, any emotion, and fear being one of the strongest, no wonder there was so many prohibitions related to one of the most fundamental drives of life, life that you positively hate! There is a saying that says we are what we eat; you eat passions, therefore you are passionate, Gabriel! It is no wonder they portrayed 'god' as a bloodthirsty sex maniac in just about every faith mankind has known! I was wondering why God did not want his image represented, Gabriel. It came to me when I saw Lucifer. You and Lucifer are brothers of 'blood' assuming Elohim have any, and since you tenaciously want to appear in person to a prophet to convince him he is actually talking to God, and you are literally ugly as a sin, banning representations of god, namely you, makes good sense. Who would follow a monstrosity? Who would follow a mind spider, that sucks people dry of their very essence to feed itself? You are the prototype of the vampire horror story! And it does not stop there. >

< Isn't your indictment considerable already? >

< I am not surprised you want me to stop. You live in the darkness created by light. If you want to blind someone to disturbing facts, you shine light in their eyes. You know the trick; you have used it more often than I care to count! The crocodile priests believe the breeding program was theirs, but it was yours, and you salivate at their savagery, especially when they are born. The fact that they cannot have females of their own adds to your enjoyment, because they depend on females of other species to reproduce. As a bonus, you have a limitless pool of orcs to feed on, and they have just enough brainpower to give you ample nourishment! And the cherry on the cake: the orcs believe it is the crocodiles that made the mess, and they blame us, humans, for it as well. You have outdone yourself. The fact that the orcs have a deep hatred of advanced humanoids lets you kill two birds with the same stone: the humans, whom you blame for your failures, and the hated Atlanteans, who, by crossbreeding with the humans, have made the livestock you so carefully selected improper for consumption. >

< Why do you say we have a role to play in the later? >

< Simple, again. When we visited South America, I saw something strange: orcs and humans working side by side to defeat the crocodiles. If orcs' hatred of humans was ingrained, that could not be. It had to have been learned! At the time, I did not know what to do of this, but after I learned of your existence, I wondered if you had not been grooming the orcs here to assail what was left of advanced crossbred humans, and kill them. >

< Are you finished with your dumb suppositions? >

< Are they as dumb as you would let others believe? I have been in the backseat of your thinking process for the past few days, and while you were busy showing off, I did a cross-indexing of your memories, goals, and methods. I may not know all the details, Gabriel, but I know enough to put you on trial for crimes against life. And so here we are. I also know you plan to use me to take control of the Atlanteans' souls because you believe they trust me. Sorry to disappoint you, maybe I am only a dwarf, but I can read body language better than you ever could! Harp knows something is wrong, and so does Harold. I made it quite sure they got the subtle hints. And even if I do not know them that much, I know they took notice! You believe yourself so superior to your livestock it could be running circles around you and you wouldn't notice! >

< What stops me from eating you alive, and killing you, puny human? >

«US!» resonated across the mental continuum, as the soul-snatcher realized, too late, that Thorsten had opened his bond to Harp and thus, to all the Atlanteans, revealing the whole sordid story and his presence within the dwarf.

***

< You will leave my mind, Gabriel. I will not host a parasite! Now! >

< Are you aware that for me to leave your kernel, you must die? >

< So you say, but there are many ways to leave my mind, parasite. You will leave or I will crush you! >

< Are you aware you will lose your powers? >

«Do not believe him, Thorsten. This is another lie! What you did, you did on your own! Gabriel used your powers to defeat Lucifer. It was only some stroke of luck for Gabriel he found you before the Demons, Thorsten. You have more power in you than he has ever had, and he has not eaten in a while.»

At that moment, Gabriel realized he had no choice but to fight Thorsten. With the savagery of a wounded, cornered animal, he lashed out at Thorsten, only to feel a pain he had not expected.

< So, 'Guardian', yes, you are a guardian of sorts, since you guard the soul snatcher depot, for lack of a better word, stored in the City of Ice, found under Greenland's ice shelf, but you are a prisoner of the sphere that encircles this planet at the Earth-Moon Lagrange distance. I felt the resonance when Lucifer bounced off it. What pissed you off was that he was unwilling to wait and you were afraid his actions would reveal more than you were willing to let me know. I felt your fear, not of him, but of me! I also found out why you did nothing to actively counter the work of Lucifer, Gabriel! You benefited of it! You were as much a parasite of him as you are of me! But Lucifer couldn't care less, contrary to me. Gabriel, like all of your kind, you are an ace at half-truths, double talks, and lies. You always told just enough truth to give credence to your story, but carefully hid the whole picture, that would have shown your species for the destroyers of the universe you really are! You even managed to doctor the Book of Knowledge and the Book of Life! I had wondered why the origins of the Elohim and Atlanteans were kept in the dark! You let the doctored copies be found by the Atlanteans to misguide them on your true nature! You are an opportunist race. You use natural events to promote your status and power on the ignorant masses! There is no need to wonder why your valets abhorred science. Scientists were prosecuted and science itself twisted by their care. Each time science found an explanation for a natural phenomenon, you lost influence! Believe blindly, and to the dimwits Heaven is open! Doubt and you end up tortured, feeding your appetite for emotions in the process! You gain on all fronts! Well, these days are over, Gabriel! >

«Thule! My old self's memory just flashed back!» exclaimed Harp. «What a poor Guardian they choose!»

Gabriel was still licking his wound when he heard Harp's comment, and more worried about what that meant than his own security, tried once again to lash out at Thorsten, whose mind gripped his Essence and began crushing it in a vice grip.

«Harp, I have him by the balls, so to speak. Could you guys do something like you did earlier to imprison him?»

«We figured as much, it is ready. You just have to squeeze him through the hole like we do when we extrude pasta!»

«Just so he knows what you mean, could you elaborate on your statement about Thule?»

«Sure. My old self, on in his peregrinations before reaching England and his ill-fated attempt at kick-starting the resurgence of Atlantis in Camelot, happened to travel with the Norsemen to Greenland. Fascinated by its beauty, he explored the giant ice shelf, the remains of the last glacial age, and found, hidden in the middle, an opening, no more than a crack, that led to a city of ice, some five miles below the ice shelf's top. I, as Merlin, explored the city and found its secret: a few thousand soul-snatchers, cleanly stacked like frozen fish, waiting for a wake-up call. I knew whom they were, having had to deal with them while I fought beside Montue, before the collapse of Atlantis. I was surprised there were no guardian, but I suspect Gabriel was off having his meal of souls, given how savage the middle ages were at creating religious strife! Anyway, I destroyed each and every soul-snatcher there was, making sure the destruction was undetectable, and I left, removing any traces of my passage. The Guardian probably returned from his meal, and finding nothing out of place, did not bother to check on his charges. Gabriel, you have been the Guardian of a necropolis! You are as lonely as Lucifer.»

Gabriel's fury redoubled at hearing the fate of the other Elohim, but Thorsten just squeezed harder.

< Try not to act stupid, Gabriel. I may be small, young, and weak, but I am also a dwarf. What we grab, we hold! Ha! Here is the little hole you used to get in my kernel. I hope you like the exit as much as you liked the entry! >

Thorsten began extruding Gabriel's essence through the door's keyhole, and Gabriel's shrieks of horror and pain resonated across magic and real space, sending shivers down the spine of every life form, including the spawns of the Elohim. As it left Thorsten's kernel, Gabriel's essence got caught in a containment field that expanded like a balloon getting filled with hot air.

«That goes to prove Gabriel was only a big air balloon!» exclaimed Harp, as he sealed the prison and decided to put it in storage within Thule.

«Why there?» asked Thorsten, who had expected the force field to be moved out of the solar system.

«Two reasons: One, I cannot actually move him out of here, his signature is pure Elohim, and the shield is tuned to them, unidirectional. This planet is an Elohim trap, set by who knows. Someone really had a long-lasting grudge. They can come in, but never leave. Second, he will have to spend energy to maintain consciousness, and there is precious little of that around. Shortly, he will be comatose, and, within a year, be as unconscious as those I killed in nine hundred and ninety six after Christ, as the dating of the time measured things. I'll pay him a nice farewell visit then and finish him off, or maybe do to him what he did to Lucifer, which, honestly, would only be fair. Wouldn't it be ironic these two brothers in hate would spend eternity looking at each other?»

«What about the date he gave me, Harp?»

«What date are you talking about?»

«Something about the seventh day of the seventh month of the seventh year concerning the disappearance of the wall and his release from his duty as Guardian.»

«Did he explain?»

«No, he refused, telling me, in a fatherly voice that made my hairs stand on its end, that prophecies are best left unexplained. The only thing is he told me the prison doors his brothers set up would open on that day.»

«This is worrisome, Thorsten. I do not put above the Elohim to have prophetic powers, and this one just adds to the pile we are dealing with. If only we knew how this jail could be broken for the Elohim, we might know what is going to happen. Did he tell you anything about that?»

«No, and maybe he didn't know himself. And, sadly, I was not aware of his presence long enough to do a full dump of his memories.»

«Do not think that, Thorsten. You have all of his memories, but maybe it is better you do not have access to them. A soul snatcher as old as Gabriel must have a lot of ugly history in his closet, and, frankly, some skeletons are better left alone. If you open some doors, you might find yourself in an ossuary. Anyway, join us. Teleport. You know how. Consider this your rite of passage. By the way, we would like to keep our windows! So make that teleportation bidirectional.»

Thorsten succeeded in his teleportation and was officially incorporated into the mage society, amongst a lot of back clapping and 'I told you so'.

***

The next day, the dragon planned to leave for his nest, and pick up a bull from the reindeer herd he had seen. Thorsten noticed his intentions from his body language and immediately asked if he and Harp could accompany him to his nest. At first, the Gold Dragon was having his doubts about the idea, since it had never occurred before in his lifetime. But Harp, via Thorsten's uncanny ability at body language, managed to explain the existence of the Kantar prophecy and the need for them to find a dragon boy to complete the hexagon. The Gold Dragon relented, and invited the two boys to join him on his trip to the nest.

The two boys took to the air and followed the dragon, first up north, where they saw him hunt down and lift an old bull off a panicked harem of females. Then he turned east, and followed the coast up south, flying over the Gulf of Mexico and reaching what was once Costa Rica. There, the dragon descended near an active volcano and engaged along a steep slope, finding his nest in the mouth of an inactive, yet still hot volcanic chimney. The chimney itself let out a plume of water vapour that condensed in a beautiful plume visible from miles away.

The boys used magic to protect themselves from the searing heat, and were fascinated by the layout of the nest. In the middle was a pool of bubbling sand, kept hot and yet moving by natural gases escaping from below in large noisy burps. Some would burst into flames while others would explode violently further up in the chimney. What Thorsten immediately recognized as raw diamonds decorated the room of obsidian walls streaked with kimberlite; a thin, hot shelf completed the nest's arrangements.

Figure 13: The Gold Dragon King in his nest (mosaic)

 

In the middle was another Gold dragon, clearly protecting something invisible with her body. She was as beautiful as her mate, and was slightly bigger than the he was, indicating that dragons had, like many animals, sexual dimorphism. As the boys watched, fascinated, they saw the male dismember the reindeer and feed the chunks to the female so she would not need to move. The delicacy the male used to handle the pieces to the female was touching, notwithstanding the gore the process produced on the black sand. After the meal, the male dutifully cleansed the sand and removed any trace of the leftovers by taking them out and dumping them in the lava flow that was flowing on a nearby active volcano. The male than combed the sand for anything that might have escped his first inspection. Rather than startle the female by talking aloud, the boys used telepathy to communicate their awe at what was unfolding before their eyes.

«I never knew dragons could be so caring. The Book of Life does not render them justice.»

«I agree, Harp.»

«I wonder how many eggs she is protecting?»

A few mimics later and Thorsten had the answer. «There are eighty-eight eggs, of thirty mating. From what I understand, they will not hatch all at the same time, but at intervals, three a month.»

«That seems a lot?»

Some more body contortions and Thorsten replied, awed, «this is the result of the Covenant. Before, the different dragons had different nesting grounds, but after many wars between the different species, they decided that in order to encourage brotherhood and reduce misunderstandings, the egglings would be raised together under the care of surrogate parents. It has been so for the last eight thousand five seven hundred and some odd winters, which, if I understand the calendar, means it's been like this for eight thousand seven hundred and some years.²¹²¹ ("That would put the Covenant at somewhere between the end of the Roman Empire and the beginning of the Middle Age.")»

«That's interesting. I think we have learned more today than in the last eight thousand years! I wonder if they have a government? After all, if they have a Covenant, they must have met in some orderly manner.»

«I just forwarded your remarks to him, Harp. Apparently, the egglings are under the protection of the leader of the Dragon Council, an Enarque, which, as best I can understand, is an elected king recognized by all species except the Black Dragons, who have refused to be bound by the Covenant.»

«That is much like dad, Thorsten. He too got elected by the Legions to be king. Ask him if the charge is hereditary?»

«According to him, although the charge is elected every ten years, it has not been held by anyone but his family for the duration. His grandfather was the first Enarque. He died during the war that led to the banishment of the Black Dragons. His father got elected and, after holding the post for a millennium, decided to retire. He himself is waiting for his first male heir to consider his options. That occurred five hundred years ago, and he and his love have been taking care of egglings for that long. Five of the eggs in the clutch are hers.»

«His first heir? He should have had many by now.»

«I feel sadness in the couple, Harp. Apparently she lay many eggs, but there were none that ever were fertilised. They were growing desperate when they noticed that the current eggs were finally showing growing embryos.»

«That is sad. I wonder if this is common in dragons?»

«Apparently, dragons always suffered from fertility problems, and the Nuclear Cataclysm has worsened the situation. That was one of the major incentives for the Covenant, when they realized they could not continue doing each other out without risking extinction. There are very few dragons around the world, according to him.»

«It makes sense, sadly. Being next to indestructible, if they had many offspring, they soon would overrun their food supply. As for the nuclear war, we have seen what gives in Americus, Thorsten.»

«He agrees with your analysis of the situation, Harp.»

«I wonder when the first batch of hatchings is due and if there is a Gold in the lot?»

«Ten days at most he says, and there is a male gold due within the triple egglings. Why?»

«Remind him of the Kantar prophesy. Maybe this will be the realisation of another element of the Right Hand of Destiny.»

«He thinks that may be possible, but he cannot figure out how it could be realised.»

«I found a book, written by an Ancient, that claimed he could make geese, an extinct type of bird, believe he was one of theirs. He called it imprinting, and it seemed to be rather easy to do.»

"Can you send it to us, Paschal?"

"I'll make a copy first. It's unique, and very old. I suspect it would burst in flames where you are."

Shortly thereafter, a book, titled The Year of the Greylag Goose²²²² ("<strong>The Year of the Greylag Goose<\/strong> by Konrad Lorenz, Sybille Kalas, Klaus Kalas Soft cover Methuen Publishing Limited, ISBN 0413491307 (0-413-49130-7)"), by Konrad Lorenz et al. materialised. A page marker indicated where to look and Harp quickly opened the book at the placeholder. After a quiet read, he gave a short overview of what he had understood of the text.

«According to this guy, when a bird hatchling is presented with a human during the first minutes following its birth, it believes the human to be his mother and will follow the human anywhere with total and blind trust. It is very time-sensitive. The imprinting must be done within the few minutes that follow the egg's hatching. More complex behaviours, such as mating and territorial songs, can take more time, and some may even begin while the embryo is still within the egg.»

«Does that allow for multiple imprinting?» wondered Thorsten.

«It doesn't say, but maybe it is possible. After all geese were flocking animals from the description I see here, and maybe part of the flocking is due to multiple imprinting.»

After forwarding the information to the dragon, they noticed the male and female communicate by changing the pattern of colours on their scales, much like chameleons do. The rainbow of colours was beautiful to see, and left the two boys voiceless. Some mimicking later, and Thorsten turned to Harp, taking his hand.

«The first eggling is expected to be the gold, in eight days, and then the two others will be hatching within the next day or two. He has invited us to be there, all six.»

«All six?»

«Yes. Ian, Sitar, Paschal, Enron, you and I.»

«We will be there at dawn.»

«He says earlier, at matins. Hatching always occurs at around that time, generally between matins and lauds. And the female says to include the wolf king.»

«That is seven, a good omen. We will be there. We will be at the bottom of the nesting mountain at vespers the day before, so if anything tells him that the process is speeding up, he will not have far to go to get us.»

«All right. I have forwarded your last comment and he agrees.»

«Tell him we will be leaving now, to search and mark our waiting place and then go home. He is welcomed to our nest any time he wishes to visit. We understand that his companion cannot leave the eggs and will therefore be unable to visit.»

The boys lifted out of the chimney and quickly found a comfortable flat rock that did not show any snow. The reason was quickly apparent! It was a comfortable summer day's temperature, and there was water all around from melting snow and ice. Harp marked it for quick return later during the week. Harp and Thorsten teleported to the throne room in Eloise, just as their family was having a quick lunch. There was no need to report what had occurred at the dragons' nest, since all those concerned had been kept abreast of the development by telepathy.

***

The rescue of other animals resumed while the royals waited for the fatidic day. Enron and Sitar scoured the northern regions of Eurasia, near the Arctic Circle, and found another doomsday vault, this time containing millions of embryos, eggs, and sperm banks. The entire animal kingdom of the Ancients seemed to have been deposited in the vault, including long lost species. Some strange deposits were also found: genetic materials extracted from extinct animals and repaired by a technique called recombinant DNA. According to Francesca, this had been the latest development of the advanced genetic program of the Ancients, before they blew themselves up. The number was limited, but covered birds such as the 'dodo' and mammals, such as the 'woolly mammoth'. As to why the ancients were interested in these specific species that was left to speculation.

What also surprised them was the limited number of such species. Francesca proposed there was probably a limited supply of suitable material to start with. And maybe the technique was so time-consuming and difficult they did not have time to do all they wanted.

The visit of Australia also brought some nice surprises, including the last surviving species of marsupial. Most of the coast had been irradiated beyond redemption, but the interior had been relatively spared. Most large animals had died due to the Atom God's Breath, leaving only the smaller, highly reproductive, ones alive.

Ayer's Rock brought home the deep, hidden history of the first landings of the Elohim on the planet. Badly weathered engravings in the rock face showed the Elohim landing party, in all its glorious horror, with portraits that could best be seen as chariots of fire, and the looks they had in their brilliant shining glory. They sure knew how to scare the wits out of primitive people! It would turn out that many such landings occurred simultaneously across the planet, clearly indicating a full-fledged invasion of sorts, against which the natives could do nothing. The Elohim had descended on the rich planet like locusts on a harvest.

Africa's interior revealed the foraging habitat of the Green Dragons, in the great interior lakes that were the source of the Nile. A couple were found in Scotland as well, having survived the Cataclysm hidden deep in the lake's holes. The Great Lakes of North America yielded another limited number, spread from the Great Slave Lake to the Lakes that dotted the old Canadian-American border. The Dragons were reduced, in these cases, to burning breathing holes from below the thick ice cover to escape to the air. The situation was becoming very problematic as the ice layer was thickening dramatically, and the dragons were experiencing ever more difficulties in maintaining their way in and out of the lake to get to a dwindling supply of fish. With the consent of Harold and Samson, the boys were authorised to offer to the dragons a shelter within the Ark complex, with proper stasis pods due to their size. The egglings already under the watch of the Gold dragon mating pair would be taken care of, and, in due course, their offspring would be moved into the same structure.

As for the Centaurs, contact with them was put off. Their hot temper and ferocious territoriality would need consideration and finesse. A slow, long and painstaking approach would have to be devised.

Moving the other crystals or finding the lost one was postponed until after they had been back to the dragons' nest. No one wanted to be involved in a delicate transport or a fight with crocodiles or orcs just before the event.

A return to the Book of Life showed how up-to-date the book could be. Additional notes had appeared narrating the migration of the Unicorns, and the disappearance of the Black Dragons, which had been destroyed by Thorsten. Apparently the female had been bearing the last few eggs of the species, and her destruction had wiped out all chances of recovery for that species. Thorsten felt deep guilt about this discovery, until Samson explained that he could not have known what he knew now.

"And, Thorsten, would you have sacrificed Harp to save that dragon female?"

"Hell, no! I was, and am willing to die for Harp, and no hell dragon had better try hurt him if it knows what's good for itself!"

"Then you have your answer. So, get on with life. What was done was necessary."

"I still feel guilty!"

"I see. Thorsten, we, King Samson of the Throne of Nature, in view of the fact that you acted in self-defence and to protect one under your charge, hereby forgive you and absolve you of any responsibilities and charges in the destruction of one species, namely the Black Dragons, on this day of the Reign of Regent Enron of the Elvin Throne, pending his Royal Highness' the Regent's confirmation of above-stated decree!"

Enron, who had been listening to the conversation from across the room, immediately created a royal decree, confirming his dad's decision, signed and sealed it before giving a duplicate copy to Thorsten.

"That one is for you, Thorsten, to put in the Dwarf Royal Library, and that one is stored in the Royal Library of the Elvin Kingdom. That makes it official. You are forgiven. Now, get on with life!"

Enron turned to his dad with sparkles in his eyes.

"So, old man, are you ready to take the crown back?"

"I'll show you who's old! I'll outrun you and you will have to keep that piece of junk! Ask one more time and I abdicate!"

"You wouldn't dare do that to me, dad?"

"Test me!"

Thorsten kept looking at his parents, Samson, and Enron, and he couldn't help to see the smirk on his dad's face. Could he be in the same boat as Enron? That sent shivers down his spine. Only Harp's reassuring grip prevented him from bawling at the idea. Even after some months as regent, he still felt woefully inadequate.

***

The week passed quickly, and the seven royals were ready to teleport to the dragons' nest. Vesper's meal was taken at the dining hall before departure, and the group teleported onto the flat rock for the wait. Time differences placed them on the rock at two hours before vespers, and some three hours before dusk. They used that time to prepare their campsite, and rest. The upcoming night was going to be long. The Gold dragon flew overhead and acknowledged their presence.

Far below their campsite, a lone figure watched them, wondering who they were. It still had a long way to go to reach a passage to the east coast. Just a mile behind him, another lone figure, emaciated and dishevelled, eyes full of madness and hate, also was watching. But it could not see what interested the figure above and couldn't care less. His hatred was to the one individual he could see and nothing else.

***

As matins was coming, the seven royals, plus duke Greywolf and Silver Moon, descended into the dragon's nest. Some fancy footwork from Thorsten explained their presence to the dragons, and the wait for the first hatching began. Everyone kept quiet, listening to the little dragon fighting to escape his now too small egg. Crack appeared in the shell, and slowly spread from this point to cover its entire surface. At first, tiny bits of the shell fell off, but gradually, bigger chunks fell on the volcanic sand. Finally a gold paw appeared, soon followed by another. Then the hind paws showed up and the little dragon began smashing the frustrating shell against the neighbouring ones, in an effort to get rid of their presence. A head appeared, busy chewing at one egg piece and reducing it furiously to ever-smaller parts. The tail finally released itself, and the little dragon was free at last, well almost. It had a tiny egg tooth²³²³ ("<strong>For further information on hatching a dragon egg, look for it up <a href=\"http:\/\/www.ehow.com\/how_2120708_hatch-dragon-egg.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here<\/a>.") on its snout that it had used to first crack the shell, and a piece of the egg still was stuck on it. It shook its head furiously and, unable to dislodge the offending piece of residue, took a run into the nearest obstacle it could find to attempt breaking it that way. It headed at full speed towards Ian and with a resounding thud, managed to rid itself of the last piece.

"Oww! Hot! Rock!" exclaimed Ian, who was learning to speak human, and getting mightily frustrated with the complexity of the languages. Ah the ease of telepathy!

Harp took a piece of the shell and examined it closely.

"It is indeed rock, a type of igneous rock, I would say, from its looks, and dark colour, basalt. I wonder how the dragon females form the shell? Could it be they swallow lava and use it to construct the egg?"

"If you are right, Harp, that means the little dragon must put up a lot of heat to be able to make the shell flexible enough when he hatches!" Sitar exclaimed.

Meanwhile, Ian had taken a big piece of moose from the food pile the royals had brought with them and given it to the little dragon, which immediately gobbled it down. The dragon began following every hand movement by Ian, waiting for the next piece with great anticipation. The other royals took turn feeding it, and then Ian fed it again; the cycle was repeated time and time again, including the wolf and the horse. Finally filled after eating over sixty pounds of meat (!), it folded into a ball on the hot sand, roaring gently as it slept, its back leaning against Ian's belly.

"I think we have our bonding, Thorsten. The young male has taken to Ian," explained Harold. "It is behaving as described in the book, and has imprinted."

"Indeed, it looks like it," replied Paschal. "It's beautiful, and already two feet long from snout to tail. I wonder how fast it grows?"

"From its appetite, fast enough! Sixty pounds of meat! It ate its own weight!" Harp exclaimed, awed.

"I wonder if a dragon sheds his skin as it grows, like reptiles?"

"I have no idea, Thorsten. We will find out shortly, I guess," Harold said.

"How long do we plan to stay?" Sitar wanted to know.

"We have to imprint the two others as well, and that means at least two more days. I would prefer we stay a week. By then, all three will be firmly imprinted," answered Harold.

"Anyway, we have to prove to the parents we can take care of their young. We will feed them as much as they need to," added Harp.

"Talking about that, let's do some house-cleaning. The parents are waiting for us to do something, but not telling me what. I suspect they want to see if we will take care of more than feeding the little one."

"Thorsten is right. Birds remove eggshell bits and any food residue from the nest. Let's do that, the dragon way. Each of you, take some of the pieces of the egg and let's get them out and dump them into the lava flow we saw north-east of us."

Each one followed Harp out of the nest, even Silver Moon and Greywolf, with the help of the royals. Ian stayed behind, being the perfect little mother hen to the sleeping dragon baby. The big male gold followed to see what would happen with the stuff and was satisfied to see any trace of the egg vanish in the active volcano's mouth. They were truly dragons at heart! Even the residue of the meal took the same road. Upon returning, he noticed the little humans begin to comb the volcanic sand for any missing pieces and collect them into a pile. Once the task was done, a couple left with the residue and again disposed of them properly.

As soon as the male dragon returned to the nest, a display of flashing scales informed his mate that the humans had done the proper domestic chores and that their nest was now again secure.

"We have been approved as valets of the chamber!" exclaimed Thorsten, laughing.

The next week was really busy for the royals, as first a fiery red female dragonling hatched, and then a magnificent green male dragonling followed the next night. By then, the gold dragonling was ready for his first moult and was getting irritated by the itching. Ian passed his second mothering test when he showed the fast-growing dragonling the use of the rock face to scrape his old skin off. It added another foot to its overall length and another three inches to its height in that single mould. Its budding wings began to emerge as well, with a measly wingspan of three inches. The droning of the dragonling exercising its wings would have led to believe a giant horsefly was mad at being stuck inside. The meat intake had grown to ninety pounds a meal, and showed no sign of slacking!

"Thank the lords he eats only once a day!" exclaimed Thorsten, as Ian and him were busy feeding the gold dragon.

"You can say that again!" replied Harp, busy feeding the red female with the help of Paschal, while Enron and Sitar fed the green with fish after fish!

"If she continues eating that many fish, we will have to resort to magic to keep up! We are emptying the northern lakes!" commented Sitar.

"Boys, the week's almost over. I've been thinking about the problem we are facing. We cannot halt our work on the Ark and Eden Projects any longer, and you have yet to move the other crystals, complete the preparations of their berths. I suggest you install yourselves here and rotate out to do your other work. Can you explain the situation to the parents? That way, we will be around for as long as needed."

Thorsten did his little dance and the adult dragons approved of the necessity to continue their work. To improve the safety of the nest, and also protect Ian and the boys from bad surprises, a centurie of wolves would be moved around the mountain with mission to keep an eye out for suspicious activities and report to the boys. Apparently, the first dragonlings would be ready to fly out of the nest by the time the next egglings would be ready to hatch, thus preventing overcrowding. They would then be juveniles and still be dependent on the adults to teach them things. The boys enthusiastically looked forward to giving the juveniles their first flying lessons!