Chapter 24: Grafael Meets a Stranger at a Bar

The time had finally come. I was going to cut all my ties to the Tarrus Empire. All the preparations had been made. The only thing left was to wait ... wait for the next morning that undoubtedly would either bring freedom for my family, or doom. Either way, nothing would be the same in the universe after that day.

Ryan was aghast with wonder at the so-called ‘hotel’ that he and the other winners had been assigned. When the Minister said hotel, he thought she meant hotel. But what he saw here was nothing less than a palace, a Crystal Palace to be exact. The entire building seemed to be made out of pure, scarlet crystals. What was even more amazing was not just what comprised the building, but the sheer size of it. The building alone was almost the same size as the volcano that served as the Ministry of Fire’s center.

I thought these Monk dudes were supposed to be all frugal and stuff. This is a straight-up tourist attraction!

“Pretty sweet, right?” said Torsha, who had been selected as Squad 99’s tour guide. “The Crystal Palace originated from the core of this moon and was modified by specialized Elementals. The Monks offer it as a sanctuary for young Elementals in training as a show of gratitude to all the Ministries. But the Monks of this moon have a special relationship with the Ministry of Fire because it was said that the Elementals who forged this Crystal Palace came from the Fire Ministry.”

“That strikes me as strange considering that the manipulation of crystals and diamonds would likely fall under the earth category of the Elemental Spectrum?” asked Éclair in a slightly aggressive posture as she addressed Torsha.

“But not all Elementals from the Ministry of Fire are Flamers. You, yourself, are a perfect example of that, Lady Éclair,” replied the wolf girl sweetly. She did not seem ingenuine, but Ryan thought he could detect the slightest bit of tension in Torsha’s voice.

“Hmm,” responded Éclair in a quizzical voice. As Torsha led the way ahead of the group, Éclair leaned close to Ryan’s ear. “What a know-it-all, right?”

Ryan was feeling slightly defensive of Torsha, and partially tickled that Éclair was the one getting worked up instead of him. “You’re one to talk,” he said with a wry smile.

“Oh, please,” scoffed Éclair. “I may act a little snooty sometimes, but I’d like to think that I’m not stuck up like her.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” replied Ryan as his smile deepened.

“All I’m saying is that she acts pretty high and mighty for someone who wasn’t even able to protect you from one of her own psychotic relatives,” retorted Éclair with her face becoming more scrunched up with frustration, and Ryan found himself enjoying every second of it.

“You do know that I have super sensitive hearing, right?” called Torsha without breaking stride as she pointed at her head. “These big ears aren’t just for decoration, honey.”

Éclair looked around in bewilderment before pointing at herself uncertainly. “Are ... are you speaking to me?”

“Sure am, sweetie,” called Torsha with a girlie chuckle. “Listen, why don’t we be friends instead of me biting your throat out while you sleep, kay?”

Now Éclair was scowling with barely restrained rage. She turned back to Ryan and mouthed the words, “I don’t like her, and I don’t trust her.”

Ryan smiled understandingly, and said, “I know you don’t, but I do.”

Éclair gasped softly and then turned away from Ryan, looking slightly embarrassed.

As Torsha continued to lead Squad 99, the other candidates were filing into the Crystal Palace as well. There seemed to be multiple entrances to the palace as hundreds of Firsts lined up from all sides. Luckily, the structure was large enough that there was no need to form lines, even with dozens of adolescent Elementals clamoring in at once.

As they entered through the threshold, Ryan felt his jaw drop as he beheld the interior of the impressive structure in all of its glittery beauty. The room they were in was massive, but still only a small portion of the palace that now surrounded the group. The crystals had been formed in such a way that stalactites spiraled down from the ceiling in a fashion that strangely resembled fire. The grand hall had many crystal fountains with some of the clearest water Ryan had ever seen in his life. The water itself gave off a slight radiance, almost as if it was glowing white somehow.

Everything about the place gave Ryan a warm, bubbling feeling inside his heart; not just from the majesty of the structure, but the atmosphere that seemed to pervade the air. Ryan could not remember a time when he felt so serene. It was like there was something in the air, a benevolent presence that comforted him and washed all his worries away. All the anxiety of the previous test seemed to vanish. He somehow felt certain that nothing bad could befall him or his comrades while they were in this place.

“Squad 99. Welcome to the Crystal Palace, one of the most treasured sanctuaries on this moon,” said Torsha a little dramatically as she spread out her hands. “Rooms have been prepared for all of you on the seventh level. That’s where the squads in the double digits will be residing. In the meantime, rest up and be here by zero-six-hundred sharp for the preliminary phase.”

Torsha then turned to Ryan and stroked his hair playfully. “I’ll be seeing you later, hotshot.”

Ryan chuckled bashfully, hoping that he wasn’t turning a shade of purple in embarrassment.

Torsha then turned to Éclair and gave a playful wink. Éclair never stopped grimacing and scowling through the entire exchange. The little Werewolf girl then dashed off into the crowd and was gone.

“Hey, is it just me,” said Rachel obnoxiously as she wrapped an arm around Ryan’s shoulder. “Or does wolf chick have a thing for you, Dragon boy?”

“If so, then I can hardly imagine why,” grumbled Éclair under her breath.

Ryan decided to play it cool even though he was pretty sure that his and Torsha’s relationship was strictly platonic at this point. “I just seem to have that effect on women of all races. I may be a half-breed, but I’m all man, baby,” he said while casually combing his red hair back with one hand.

Rachel laughed hysterically. “Mr. Smooth now, huh? I’d really hate to see what those wolf-dragon babies would look like.”

Rachel laughed even louder at her own inappropriate joke while everyone else just stared awkwardly.

“Leave it to you, Rachel dear, to be the first to abandon all manner of tact,” sighed Éclair.

“Wolf-dragon babies!” cried out Tork in dismay.

“Calm down!” said Ryan as he ran up to the Dragon and held his hands up reassuringly. “Rachel’s just acting drunk again for some reason! There are not any babies!”

Tork didn’t seem to be listening as he hung his scaly head despairingly. “She didn’t even notice me. I may as well be a fly on the wall. Oh, dear. Despite our lavish surroundings, I do believe I am becoming depressed.”

“Hey, hey, hey, buddy. Didn’t I say I would set you up with that wolf girlie? So by golly ... I am ... so going to do that ... starting now. You just need a little more confidence. You just need to walk up to her and say...” It was only at that moment that Ryan noticed the smell. It was like body odor times ten. “Wow, buddy, you really stink!”

“Yer jus’ now noticin’, ya lil’ blighter,” said Thisy as he wrapped a huge arm around Tork’s bulky shoulders. As Thisimius stood next to the Dragon, he seemed a little less foreboding given that they were both around the same height. “When a young Dragon’s got moon eyes for a wee lass, he sometimes gives off a distinct fragrance to attract her wi’ his pheromones. Wi her dog’s sense of smell, there’s no way the furry lassie would miss that stench. That’s probably why she took off in such a hurry.”

“I was going to wash it off,” said Tork dejectedly. “But then I thought that my natural masculinity would impress her somehow. How silly of me. A beauty of her sophistication could hardly be bought in by such barbaric means.”

“Okay, because we’re friends, I’m not going to lie to you,” said Ryan, slightly gagging from the smell. “You smell like a pile of crap mixed with puke and earwax. But that’s okay, because we can fix this. We just need about ten gallons of cologne and a twenty-foot-long stick of deodorant. Now come on and let’s get you fixed up. Éclair, you can come and give girl advice or something.”

“As fun as that sounds,” said Éclair sardonically. “I have not had a full night’s rest in the week since the second phase began. I’ll be going to my room and resting for the trials to come. Which is something you should be doing, too.”

“And I’m literally going to do anything but help you play matchmaker,” said Rachel. “So, bye. Have fun harassing women.”

As Éclair and Rachel made their way to the crystal staircase, Ryan turned to Leon in desperation.

Leon just stared for a few seconds before saying, “Do I look like I have even the slightest interest in this?”

“Come on, man,” pleaded Ryan as he clasped his hands together beggingly. “You’re the sensitive one, remember? You probably know all sorts of romantic crap and stuff!”

“What’s in it for me?” asked Leon with the same uninvested expression on his pale face.

“The chance to help out a friend in need,” replied Ryan hopingly.

Leon still did not seem convinced as he crossed his arms in derision.

Alright! Time to pull out the big guns!

“If you help, I’ll clean up the apartment by myself,” offered Ryan.

“Including that scorch mark you left on the wall?” asked Leon.

“Yes.”

“And the pile of corn chip bags you stuffed in the closet.”

“Yes,” said Ryan, growing impatient.

“And all the soggy underwear that you stuck to the ceiling,” said Leon in finality.

“Come on, man. Did you have to mention the soggy underwear?” whispered Ryan.

“Deal or no deal,” continued Leon dispassionately.

“Alright, fine,” said Ryan in exasperation as he shook Leon’s hand. “You have a deal, you monster.”

“Come with me, Tork,” said Leon as he put an arm around the lovesick Dragon. “I’m going to teach you the finer points of Lycan courtship and etiquette.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” said Tork in a daze, his shoulders still sagging tremendously as his wings and his tail dragged along the floor.

“And I’m going to go out drinking,” said Thisy.

“Can I come?” asked little Thomas.

Luckily, Nanny Eliza actually did something useful for a change, and said, “Actually, Sir Thomas, I think it was about time we were getting you to bed.”

“But I’m not tired,” whined Thomas.

Before Ryan could blink, Cedric touched Thomas on the head and the boy went to sleep instantly, falling into the mute’s arms.

Astounded, Ryan cried, “What the crap did you do to the kid?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about, dearie. Just a little technique to help the little pint sleep. Cedric’s been doing it for years, and I assure you, that he is quite adept.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t reassure me,” said Ryan in mock horror.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head, dearie,” said Nanny Eliza with a mischievous grin, and Ryan knew she was about to do something that would probably make him puke. “He’ll be right as rain before you know it. You just focus on you. Won’t want to have any worry wrinkles to mar that pretty little face of yours.”

Nanny Eliza gave Ryan a slight slap on the cheek. Ryan recoiled from the touch.

“Come along, Cedric. The little master will be waking soon, and you know how cranky he gets when you put him to sleep without a bedtime story.”

As Nanny Eliza wobbled away with Cedric carrying Thomas in his arms, Ryan finally noticed Grafael leaving as well.

Hoping that he was out of his funk, Ryan called out, “Hey, Graf! Wait up! Where are you going?”

The Wingless Dragon turned to Ryan with eyes that looked almost dead.

“Don’t you wanna help us with Tork? You two are like cousins, right? You probably have a lot of great tips to give about love to a seven-foot-tall lizard, since you are an eight-foot-tall lizard, and all.”

Grafael hardly even seemed to notice that Ryan had spoken as he walked away sorrowfully.

He’s even worse than before!

“Hey, Ryan,” called Leon. “You coming? I think he’s starting to molt while singing something about Britannia.”

“Oh, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!” sang the confused Dragon in an extremely off-key voice. Some of his scales seemed to be peeling off too as he swung his arms in tempo with the song.

Ryan willed himself to turn away from Grafael, but not without a feeling of dread in his heart.

As soon as I finish with Tork, I’m going to help that big lug with his problems even if it kills me, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried!

The disheartened warrior sat in silent contemplation of his fate, and the fate of his home. Ever since he was a hatchling, all Grafael wanted was to be worthy of his father’s legacy ... to be worthy of the mantle of his people.

Grafael the Wingless Dragon sat alone in the darkest, dingiest, most disreputable dive he could find. He had to leave the moon to do it though. In fact, he had to leave the system of Tarrus to do it. This was not the first time, too. Every year, he made a sort of ritualistic journey away from all the noise of the Fire Ministry and the city. Grafael valued his friends, but there were times when he valued the need to brood. In a way, Grafael knew that it was his own attempt to get as close to his homeworld as possible. He would always travel to the edge of the border between Tarrus and the Saurian territories, and he would always be confronted by the ships of the border patrollers from both sides. He did not loathe the patrollers who barred him from his home. They were simply warriors doing their duty to protect their countries. In fact, in some ways, he actually envied them. For they had a purpose, which was more than Grafael felt he had at the moment.

Grafael took another look at the golden medallion that hung around his neck. Every member of the Fire Ministry had one. The mystical talisman that acted as both a symbol and a means of communication that didn’t rely on technology. He could see the two tiny creatures, the four-legged Dragon and the Lion, moving casually within the medallion as if alive. The small animals seemed made of gold like the rest of the medallion, but at the same time appeared too sinewy and vibrant to be a mere illusion. The medallion felt heavy this year, heavier than it ever felt before.

Perhaps this is the year, my little friends. Perhaps this is the year I set this medallion down and say goodbye to all it represents for me.

As the large Saurian pawed his drink with apparent apathy, he could not help but groan in disgust at his own self-pity. He was being ungrateful to his friends and the life they had made possible for him. It was true, it had not been all bad. Certainly other creatures in the vast universe suffered even greater pains than him. In fact, his time with all the members of Squad 99 had been well spent. They were all honorable warriors who accorded themselves with dignity and courage. And living by the side of the fair Lady Éclair was a privilege that Grafael was not sure that he had earned. But that was just the problem, one that he struggled with for nearly a hundred years. Grafael had not earned the right to protect them ... to protect anybody. He tried to hide his scars with boasting and pride, but the truth was that he felt ashamed to stand next to such stalwart warriors. Even young Ryan was becoming a great fighter in his own right. Very soon, the young protégé would surpass Grafael, and there would be nothing left to him but his shame.

Shame ... dishonor ... disgrace ... SHAME!

Those words echoed in Grafael’s skull like a thunderstorm. The shame his family felt for him, the shame his race felt for him, and the shame he felt for himself.

As Grafael wallowed in his own lost honor, he stared at the image of his face reflected by whatever liquid that the scum of a barkeep had deigned to poison him with. The face that stared back at him was not human. It was scaly, edged, and fierce, like the ancient reptiles known as dinosaurs that his people were descended from. The ferocity of his bloodline was shown clearly in Grafael’s angular features. It seemed a face that could strike fear into even the more steadfast of soldiers, and for many years, Grafael once believed that was what it was. But beneath the surface of this seemingly strong façade was the soul of a coward; a coward unfit of the noble blood that flowed through his unworthy veins.

Grafael barely even registered the uproar that began to take root in the bar. A group of Space Trolls had walked through the door and were doing everything to make a nuisance of themselves. They had gray, stone-like skin, small, bald heads, and long, drooping ears. Their bellies were big, but their stump-like arms and legs bulged with muscle and power. There were about a dozen of them, and they averaged around eight to ten feet in height. The largest one among them was close to twelve feet, and he had to stoop just to stand up in the bar.

“I hope you have cute waiters in here, or we’ll find other ways to have fun,” said the biggest one with obvious gusto.

“Yeah, yeah. Like breaking things. Huh huh huh!” laughed a slightly smaller Troll.

Grafael smiled. This was one of the reasons he came to places like this every year, and the distractions never failed to thrill, even if it was for just a moment.

Grafael took one last swig of his disgusting beverage before taking a very direct step towards the Trolls.

Their leader had finally caught sight of Grafael, and his face curled in disgust. “Hey, barkeep. Either throw this scaly bastard out, or I will. I don’t drink with lizards.”

Grafael kept walking towards the Trolls, his excitement growing with every step.

The Trolls were growling at Grafael now, and some licked their chops in anticipation too. Grafael understood because he was getting happy as well.

As the Troll leader took another look at Grafael, his snarl turned from disgust to humor. “Hey, you guys. Get a load of this. Take a good look at that medallion he’s wearing. That’s a Fire Ministry Medallion. That means this asshole is just a flunky. Nothing but a whore for those Elemental pussies.”

The Trolls were laughing now, and belching out insults like ‘lizard-whore,’ and ‘scaly-bastard’. Grafael’s mirth only deepened, as did his hunger for violence.

The leader Troll stood to his full height, his sweaty physique bulging under the weight of his own fat. Judging from the weapons and unfitted armor the Troll was wearing, he and his henchmen were likely marauders of some kind. That was just embers on the fire as far as Grafael was concerned.

“Now listen here, little Mrs. Elemental pussy whore. The only thing I hate worse than a lizard is one who’ll sell himself out to those Elemental cunts. But I’m feeling generous today, so why don’t you crawl back to those human masters of yours, where you belong.”

The big Troll pointed a big, fat finger down at Grafael, whose smile only deepened.

“Well, you got something to say, shorty. I mean, I heard you guys were dumb, but I didn’t know you were this dumb?” asked the Troll leader as he jabbed Grafael’s chest.

That was all the provocation Grafael needed. Without warning, he grabbed the Troll’s hand and broke it at the wrist in one swift movement. It happened so fast that the other Trolls did not know how to react. For a while, the massive creatures just stood in abject horror as their boss writhed and screeched from Grafael’s impenetrable hold. The fat Troll tried in vain to break Grafael’s death grip on his hand, but all his pulling and struggling only tore his ligaments further. Despite being much larger than Grafael at twelve feet in height, the Troll was powerless before him. It was almost a shame to let out his anger against such feeble opponents. The Saurian let loose a sigh of contentment as all the pain and shame he had been feeling started to melt away into pure bliss.

“Before we begin, allow me to give you thanks, my friends,” said Grafael with a polite smile. “You see, I really needed this.”

“Three soft yips and a howl indicate you are interested,” said Leon in a lecturing manner. “A grunt and a stamp of your foot will further arouse her attention. Do not approach her too quickly, or her natural instincts will interpret the action as an attack. In order for the mating ritual to be successful, both parties must show an appropriate amount of restraint and boldness. Approach her tentatively, but not so much as to appear cowardly. Wolves respond to strength, and though you physically appear to be the larger and more powerful of the two of you, if you show any weakness during the exchange whatsoever, her natural impulse will be to rip your throat out before you have a chance to finish procreating. This is done inadvertently to ensure that her offspring are fathered by only the most fearsome of males available. Although, modern Werewolves have mellowed some in recent years, these practices are still the basis for most of their reproductive activities.”

Ryan’s mouth hung open in utter shock.

Leon adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before continuing his explanation to Tork, who was thoroughly scribbling notes on his holopad.

“After the exchange is done with, it is customary to rub your noses together and groom one another’s fur. Now, the most important, most crucial bit of information that you absolutely must remember no matter what is-”