Sorcerer from Another World

The Dragon landed, crushing a few trees in the vicinity under its massive bulk. It was staggeringly huge like a living breathing mansion had dropped in. One with the shape of a serpent that had two wide wings and a long tail.

My eyes were caught by the way the sunlight shone on the scarlet scales they glimmered a resplendent crimson. Yellow, slitted eyes locked on me.

“You fought well, Sorcerer.” The great Dragon complimented me.

I was grateful for their words, even if they didn’t pierce my walls of doubt and settle as self-belief.

“You smell of distant kin.” It told. “They have marked you.”

“I have not met a dragon before. I know a Pendragon if that counts.”

“It does not. No matter how arrogantly Uther and his spawn prattle.” It huffed, an experience of a lifetime to watch a dragon huff. “Be careful, Sorcerer. Dragon’s do not like to let go of their possessions.”

“I will. Thanks for the warning.”

“Considering you are the last face I shall ever see. An act of kindness is easy before I go.”

I blinked trying to process what the dragon was saying, “You’re dying.”

“Yes, I Treator the Last Dragon from the Fourth Age of Albion spat out my last fire and with it the last of my lifeforce.”

“I’m sorry.” I said out of habit and rather stupidly.

“I am not. Battling an enemy god is a noble act few can claim and fewer dragons still as their last act.”

“I…I am not sure what to say to someone who is dying.” I admitted.

Treator let out a low grumbling sound. I suspected later it was a chuckle.

“I’ve had a long time to reflect on myself and I have time enough for a last conversation. Let us speak of you, otherworlder and what exactly you are doing here.”

“You know?”

“My senses are true. A rare gift even among dragons and fae. Unlike other mortal beings that have to emend their intellect because of rumour, and false perceptions I am elevated with true understanding of reality.”

“Emend?”

“To correct, in this case, towards truth and perfection.”

“Ah.” I sounded. Not quite sure I got his meaning, but it sounded smart and something an ancient dragon might think was normal.

“Was it worth it?”

“I think so.”

“You’re braver than you know. But not so different from any other who leaves home and family for adventure or power. It is only you who leapt into a world like a dream for that you are luckier than you are brave, but for dangers posed by the Gods is worse than you know. They are a cancer to this world. You and the one you protect are among their greatest threats and they know it.”

“What am I supposed to do? How do we threaten them? They are older, stronger and know more than I do. Mars just killed me. He can do so again easily.”

“He can, but he is a sheep compared to his father. His sister would not give you the chance to learn from your mistakes and grow to defeat her. You can kill them, but a Fae Lord can do so much more easily than you can. You are a world creator, mayhap a Lord or even God maker, less so a killer. That Druid partner of yours,however, her flames can kill a god.”

“Easier said than done.” I said more out of self-doubt than anger towards a being I esteemed. For what reasons, I contemplated afterwards. In the moment, I trusted their every word and was wise to do so.

Treator chuckled at my doubt, “I said can. Mars slaughtered most of the Seelie court with only a legion. But, it was the guile of Clavile and might of Maradon that made it possible. Unseelie court secured the destruction of its twin and are bringing about their end in consequence.”

“I slew Maradon.”

“Yes, and Clavile’s influence seeps into Elkilbour. If you wish to ally with the city you must uproot and kill the poisonous weed that chokes the city.”

“It was Clavile who sought your death.”

“Yes, and he succeeded as per his design.”

“I will avenge you.”

“Do not mind vengeance. Focus on living and prospering. Clavile will bring about his own doom; you don’t need to seek him out. He will be forced to come to you.”

“Okay. You saved my life at the cost of your own. I will follow your wisdom, Treator.”

“It is Zeus, killer of Jupiter and New Patriarch of the Roman Panethon that you need to prepare against. The Gods of Rome are not united. Mars may be a pawn of his new father. But not all obey Zeus so easily. He has rivals older than this planet in his brothers and other Pantheons. But they care little for this world or any mortal. Their interests are only to increase their own power. For his brothers Zeus is their ally and obstacle to this wish.

“I’m not prepared to take on an entire Patenon. Mars is more than what I can face. I don’t know what to do.”

“Continue as you intended to. Opportunities will present themselves to you if you keep on yearning and unleashing magic. You will be ready. But, enough of war. It is a deary topic for a dying soul. Let us speak of love. You hold affections for women, mainly the ones you first met on Albion?”

“Well, yes. Morgana and Iris. Others too.”

“While I see bonds of affections and yes perhaps the first crystallisation of love… I am sorry Damian, but you have no relationships of genuine love in this world.”

“Oh.” I mouthed. What a harsh but true statement. The dying really don’t give a damn about sparing feelings.

“There are aspects of love, lust and the like. Loving, no doubt. I acknowledge them as powerful, precious bonds. However, at least among the living, none have touched your most personal boundaries, no one sees your weaknesses and reaches out to help you. No one is your home. Not a single person makes you truly happy to be with them. This is because your power is great, but power always corrupts. Yours is near absolute and always yearning. A true love needs a peer and you are peerless in your unique talents. Your greatest strength is also your greatest source of suffering.”

Coming from anyone that would have been a bitter pill to swallow. Out of the mouth of an ancient, wise being. I was crushed.

I think for the first time I understood my situation. I had left my loving parents, and the potential for genuine love be it friendship, romantic or whatever else behind. Maybe even that was wishful thinking.

I had bargained for power and purpose. I can’t say it was the wrong choice. But, I learned another consequence of it. In this strange, wonderful place. I had never once felt I had a home here.

Maybe I could make one? I certainly failed to do that before in my homeworld.

Maybe I could make Iris and Morgana genuinely love me… or was I thinking of it wrong? Did I truly love them?

I don’t know about love, but with my magical powers I could build a home. In shaping, if not feeling.

“You’re not the only one. I’ve lived through many seasons from a small seed to who I am now. Love is everywhere between people and yet rare it has been to see a genuine love blossom.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, well I guess that’s not true. I feel more able to accept what I have done.”

Treator groaned and their body wracked with pain.

“Can I help? I can ease the pain, I think.”

“I would be grateful. If you share your gift, I will reciprocate. Rest your head against mine, young dreamer. I will share what it is to fly, and perhaps that will let you too fashion thine own wings.”

I did as they asked, obeying a parent as a child does. Dragon physiology was foreign to me, but not so different. I couldn't ease Treator pain with a lot of magic done quickly.

He showed what it was to soar in the heavens and feel the felicity of flight. I experienced what it was to glide as it was me that was flying.

He painted from memory Elfhame, not in the frenzy of combat of which I had experienced it. But a space of peace and wonder with a single white star that was always rising and setting in a sea of space.

It was the joy of letting my soul fly that was shared, a far greater gift than the already fantastical act of physical flight.

Treator passed about two miles away from the tower where we would call home. They passed feeling the touch of a new friend, and very little pain and reliving their most precious memory. A past now shared.

Their death fed the earth a burst of life followed with the vigorous growth of wildlife, trees and nutrients. Their body faded leaving only a spoonful of ash behind. The wind carried the grey dust to oceans returning to where Treator’s life began long, long ago.