On Wings of Fate

Then the slide disappeared, and he tumbled into the darkness before slamming into rough, unforgiving stone. All the air punched out of him as his head smacked against ground, and he lay there, dazed. A moment of stunned silence passed before he sucked in air and coughed, trying to refill his lungs. The darkness was absolute, and the air was gritty, his fall stirring up particles of dirt or sand. Connor curled into a fetal position and tried to steady his breathing and ignore his throbbing head and aching back. After assessing himself, he was relieved nothing was broken. Even his fingers moved as they should.

He groaned and touched the back of his head, flinching and feeling slick stickiness on his hand. Great. Blood. And the bump would swell, no question. Pain radiated through his skull for another moment before easing to a steady ache that throbbed in time with his heartbeat.

Taking careful breaths, Connor sat up gingerly and blinked, trying to see where he was. Nothing.

He touched his GoPro but couldn’t ascertain if it was broken or not.

Phone.

God, don’t let it be broken!

He yanked at the Velcro of a pocket in his cargo pants and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen and blinded himself. Welp, it still worked. Though the screen was cracked. Grumbling curses and blinking his watery eyes, he turned on the flashlight and got to his feet. Despite the modest light, he couldn’t see the ceiling or the walls of the cavern. Only the floor and the hole above that had ejected him here.

Great.

He needed to text Linnie and—

What was that?

Squinting, Connor cocked his head and listened. What was that? A steady sound barely stirred the air of the cavern, and he held his own breath to hear better.

Breathing.

Why the fuck was he hearing something breathe down here?

Grabbing his pocketknife out of another pocket, he turned slowly in a circle. He froze when the light fell on a large, glistening black rock. No, boulder. Gulping, he moved closer, careful of his steps. It sounded like he was stomping despite his best efforts but the calm breathing never faltered. He should be trying to scramble back up that hole but something in his gut, in his bones, tugged him forward.

Despite his terror, he was also excited. Exhilarated. He anticipated… what? It was probably a bear that would tear his face off and… did the Philippines have bears? Did this island?

Fuck.

Just a few more steps and… It wasn’t a boulder. Or a rock. Those were scales. Large… enormous black iridescent scales. Connor dropped his knife and covered his mouth, trembling so hard his phone’s light danced as if he was at a rave.

Keep going.

His vision blurred with tears as he shuffled alongside the enormous beast. His phone’s light couldn’t penetrate the darkness above. The enormity of this beast was mind-blowing. No land beast should be this big! Only sea creatures could get to this size. Or dinosaurs. He choked back a hysterical laugh at the thought of proving the existence of Nessie. It took a while to span the length of the body, and he nearly lost his mind when he saw the folded, leathery wings, proving he’d approached the… beast from the back. It must be sleeping as a dog or a cat did, with legs and tail and face tucked on one side.

Just like the mountain itself.

Still holding his hand over his mouth, Connor jerked forward and blinked his eyes clear of burning tears. He moved to the other side of the creature, and a muffled cry escaped him.

A titanic black dragon slept, his warm breath flowing out of him, his enormous chest moving slightly. Vicious black claws of onyx had left grooves in the stone floor, and Connor felt a bit queasy when he realized those claws could clutch and squish him like a bug.

He fell to his knees, phone clattering to the ground.

He could only stare.

He could only cry.

Three sets of horns jutted up from either side of the dragon’s face, with two sets near his eyes, one striking back to protect the back of his head while the other probably protected his eyes. The last set jutted out from his cheeks, helping protect his jaw. And what a strong jaw it was. Connor could imagine the dangerous teeth after considering the claws. His scales were different sizes depending on where they were on his body. A few were no wider than Connor’s fingernail, like around his eyes, while others were as wide as Connor was tall, like those around his thighs and rump.

Unbidden memories rose, images of this dragon at his full strength. Large blue eyes deadly with rage or burning with passion. Flames dancing between his scales when he moved, the inferno of his body a comforting warmth, a shield against the cold. More images of battle, of ripped flesh, of roaring calls of victory… but then a rumbling purr, as if he were just a big cat wanting a scritch.

And a voice. A voice that Connor had desperately missed for too many years to count. Longer than he’d been alive. An ache formed in his chest, and he crawled closer, forgetting his phone, the dim light all he needed. Something cut his hand, and though he flinched, Connor didn’t stop.