The Nibiru Effect

Memory 89

The dragon towers above me, its scales glistening in the orange glow of the surrounding lava. Its fiery eyes remain fixed on me, waiting to see if I will attempt an escape. But what's the point? It's not like I have even the slightest chance of surviving the onslaught of molten rock that's about erupt from the beast's maw.

The dragon bares its teeth and growls. I flinch but stand my ground. The last thing I want is to die a coward. The beast opens its mouth, and an intense orange glow emerges from its throat, casting frightening shadows on the cave walls.

Maybe dying a coward wouldn't be so bad.

Lava bubbles up the creature's throat as it gets ready to spit.

Screw it. I'm making a run for it.

I'm just about to make my move when another dragon emerges from the shadows. Smaller than the last, it favours its right side as it scurries forward, but it's not until it passes by a pool of lava that I understand why.

It's the baby dragon, the one I rescued earlier.

The flying reptile may be small, but it's fearless. It skids to a stop between my attacker and me, interrupting it right before it can spew its molten rock. I expect the massive beast to swat away the troublesome youth, but it calms down at the mere sight of it. After a moment, it steps forward and presses its snout to the smaller reptile's face. I can't be sure, but I think they're communicating. I just hope whatever is being said is to my advantage.

It is.

The large dragon eventually pulls away and growls softly. Moments later, two more baby dragons emerge from the shadows. They hurry forward and gather around me, sniffing tentatively. I can tell the adult dragon is their mother by the way she watches over them.

That explains the hostility. She was just trying to protect her children. It also explains why she purposefully missed when spitting lava at me. She didn't want to kill me; she just wanted to scare me away.

The baby dragons soon grow bolder. They rub up against me and tug on my clothes. I can tell they want to play, but I can't afford to waste any time. I must pursue my journey. I must save my friends.

I dodge a playful attack by one of the baby dragons and begin the short walk to the exit, but the mother dragon blocks my progress. I make my way around her, but she once again moves to stand between me and my objective. I try one last time before finally giving up.

There's only one way for me to get what I want. I shift into a baby dragon and beat my wings. The mother retreats, but only for a moment. She bows low and presses her snout to mine.

Can you hear me? The voice erupts within my mind like an explosion. I stagger back, stunned by the unexpected occurrence.

"What was that?" I try to ask, but my new body keeps me from speaking. Only a high-pitched snarl escapes my fanged maw.

The mother dragon steps forth and once again presses her muzzle to mine.

Can you hear me? This time, the voice is soft. It fills my mind for a moment before evaporating like morning dew on a hot day.

It takes a moment before I realize the dragon just spoke to me.

"How did you do that?" I try to say, but as before, only a muffled growl escapes my throat.

Don't speak, says the voice in my head. Think.

It's not easy, but I manage to suppress the urge to speak.

How are you doing this? I ask with my mind.

We dragons communicate through touch, says the mother dragon.

That explains why I only heard her when she touched me. It also explains why she calmed down as soon as she touched her child. It must have told her how I saved it and insisted she spare me.

It takes a moment, but I finally gather myself enough to form a logical thought.

Why won't you let me leave?

I need your help.

How can I possibly help you? I ask. I'm small, and you're huge.

The dragon snorts, which I assume means she's amused.

That's precisely why I need your help, she says.

I don't understand.

I'm trapped, she explains. About a year ago, I reached maturity and laid three eggs. I spent months watching over them, waiting for them to hatch. When they finally did and the time came for me to introduce them to the outside world, I discovered the tunnel which leads out of this mountain had collapsed. I was trapped, and so were my children.

That explains why a massive dragon would require the help of a scrawny human teenager. Well, sort of.

I'm sorry to hear that, I say, but how do you expect me to help?

There are other ways out of the mountain, explains the mother dragon. Unfortunately, they're too narrow for me. That's why I need your help. You must guide my children to the outside world before they get too big and end up trapped here with me.

Can't they find the exit themselves? I ask.

They're too young. They would get lost.

There's a moment of silence as I consider whether I can afford to help the baby dragons find their freedom. In an attempt to buy myself a little more time to think, I decide to distract the mother with a question.

What's your name?

I don't have one, she admits, but I have been known to answer to the name Korrigana.

The name sounds familiar, but it takes me a while to figure out why.

"Of course!" I blurt out, but only a low growl escapes my reptilian lips. Korrigana, I continue, this time in my head, that was the name the forest korrigans gave their goddess. According to the korrigan priest, she lived atop the Mountain of Fire. He claimed she used to fly down to their village each day to bestow her blessings upon them, but about a year ago, she stopped coming. Soon after, the fire plague claimed its first victims, and the forest korrigans interpreted it as a sign their goddess was displeased with them. Of course, the plague had nothing to do with Korrigana, but it does explain quite a lot.

Are you a goddess?

The dragon chuckles.

No. I merely allow the korrigans to treat me as such because they seem to enjoy it. There's no harm in it.

I consider pointing out the fact that it's this very belief that led the forest korrigans to their demise, but I know it will accomplish nothing. Not to mention the fact that I'm already quite busy realizing I'm now faced with a decision that will either prove or disprove my rightful claim to the title of saviour of the forest korrigans. By leading the baby dragons to freedom, I will not only be completing a selfless act, but I will also fulfill the prophecy which I up until now only partially believed I was the hero of.

Will you help me? asks Korrigana. Will you free my children?

I hesitate for a moment. Not because I had a change of heart, but because I only now realize I can use this situation to my advantage.

I'llhelp you, Ifinally say, but I must ask a favour of you in return. It's not a big favour,but it's one that may well mean the difference between rescuing my friends anddooming myself along with them.