Description
Special Notes: The image above is the youngest of the Ten Lights of Ara at the tender age of only nine billion years old.
Cody II, Chapter 3
Cody's feet squished against the mud-slicked bank, his eyes scanning for the familiar shape of their backpacks amid the churned-up debris. The flood had been merciless, swallowing everything in its path and leaving chaos in its wake.
"Over there," Tara said, pointing to a half-buried strap tangled with branches. Her voice carried a tremble that didn't quite belong to the chill in the air. She kept flicking her gaze to the side, as if expecting a ghost to emerge from the waterlogged shadows. "Cody, I keep seeing something... someone."
Cody straightened up, brow furrowed. "Yeah, it feels like we're not alone." He tried to laugh it off, but it came out hollow. His own nerves were jangling, an echo of Tara's unease. Each time he glanced back, there was nothing but the wreckage of nature's fury.
They worked their way along the river's edge, the silence filled only by the gurgling of water and the occasional caw of a bird overhead.
"Look out!" Tara's shout jerked Cody's attention forward just in time to see a glint of light trapped in a patch of quicksand—a small living Ara crystal, its luminescence dim under the sludge that threatened to consume it.
"Come on, let's save it!" Cody grabbed a nearby branch and pushed it toward the crystal, hoping to nudge it free. But the crystal slipped away from the wood, too slick and delicate to hold on to.
"Let me try something else." Cody lay flat on his stomach, inching out on the perilous sand, heart hammering against his ribs. Tara gripped his ankles tightly, her fingers firm and reassuring.
"Careful," she whispered, her voice laced with fear for her friend.
The crystal's light pulsed weakly, a silent cry for help. Just as Cody stretched out his arm as far as it would go, fingertips grazing the crystal's surface, a shadow loomed over them.
Whiskers, the earth-toned Ara, descended gracefully, tendrils of light reaching out as if to embrace the struggling scene below. "Why doesn't it teleport?" Cody asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself above the quicksand.
"It can't," Whiskers replied, the light around him flickering with concern. "This is an Ara infant. It has not yet learned the ways of its kind, and I dare not teleport it. Too dangerous for one so young."
Tara bit her lip, looking between Cody and the helpless crystal. They were running out of time, and every second mattered. Cody's determination was a beacon in the dreariness, his courage shining as bright as any Ara's light.
Cody's arm trembled with the strain, his fingers stretching toward the dim glimmer of the Ara infant ensnared in quicksand. The crystal was close, so agonizingly close, yet remained just out of reach. Panic fluttered in Tara's eyes as she held onto Cody's ankles, her grip slipping slightly with each small shift of his weight.
"Pull me out," Cody grunted, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"I'm trying, you're sinking," Tara replied, her words tinged with urgency.
"Get back," Cody gasped, a sudden spark igniting behind his eyes, "I have an idea."
Tara hesitated but then released him, scrambling backwards to safer ground. Cody lay there, his chest heaving, and then it happened—something astonishing. The tattoos that laced his skin, a myriad of intricate vines gifted by the Second Light, began to move like living things. They writhed and grew, extending from his hand to gently coil around the crystal.
With a deep breath, Cody felt the cool sensation of the tattoos sliding off his skin, moving with purpose. He watched, wide-eyed, as the pattern on his legs came alive next, twisting and twining across the muddied earth. Like serpents, they sought out a sturdy tree, wrapping tightly around its trunk.
A surge of strength pulsed through the tattoos, and suddenly Cody, along with the tiny Ara, was being pulled away from the grasping sands. His body slid over the mud, safe at last, the infant crystal cradled within the living ink of his arm.
"Whoa," Tara breathed out, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "That was awesome."
Cody sat up, brushing mud from the crystal, while the tattoos retreated back into stillness upon his skin. "Now we know what the tattoos are for," Tara added, her blue eyes reflecting the strange magic that had just unfolded.
Cody chuckled, the tension easing from his face. "Yeah," he said with a boyish grin, "I'm a truck with a built-in winch."
His laughter was light, a brief echo in the air as he admired the rescued crystal. It was a moment of triumph, interwoven with the innocence of childhood and the extraordinary reality they now lived—a world where toy dragons weren't just figments of imagination but could be real and breathing. Cody's laughter subsided as he gently cradled the infant Ara in his arms. The crystal's faint glow pulsed like a tiny heart under the overcast sky, its colors reflecting in Cody's wide, crimson eyes.
"Can you do that anytime?" Tara asked, squatting down next to Cody. Her striking blue eyes were full of curiosity and something more—respect for her friend's newfound ability.
"I don’t know," Cody said, examining his forearms as if seeing them for the first time. The tattoos had returned to their dormant state, intricate patterns that no longer moved but held the memory of action.
"Your legs just... grew vines!" Tara exclaimed, still trying to wrap her mind around what had happened. "They saved you—and the little guy here." She gestured at the crystal, which seemed to be regarding them with an unfathomable depth despite its infancy.
"Guess I've got more than just ink under my skin," Cody mused, his thoughts drifting to the Second Light, the one who had gifted him these remarkable markings. What else could they do? What other secrets did they hold?
"Let's get out of here before anything else crazy happens," Tara suggested, standing up and brushing off her knees. Her heart-shaped face was set in determination. They had a mission to complete, backpacks to find, and possibly more infant Aras needing rescue.
"Right behind you," Cody replied, getting to his feet. He cast one last look at the spot where he'd been trapped, the quicksand now appearing innocent and still. It was hard to believe that just moments ago, it had almost claimed two lives.
Together, they walked back toward the riverbank, stepping carefully around puddles and debris left by the flood. As they went, Cody felt the weight of the tattoos on his skin, a constant reminder of his connection to the Ara and the untold mysteries they represented.
With a shiver of his still-damp hair, Cody held the Ara infant close, the crystal's faint warmth seeping into his palms. But before he could savor the victory of their rescue, a blur of motion startled him. From behind the gnarled trunk of an old willow tree, a shadowy figure lunged forward with startling agility.
"Hey!" Cody yelped as the figure snatched the glowing crystal from his hands. The thief turned to run, but Fang, with his imposing presence, materialized on one side of the interloper, cutting off escape. On the other flank, Whiskers descended, effectively trapping the would-be bandit.
Cody squinted at the figure now caught in the standoff. "He looks like me, only younger," he whispered, more to himself than to Tara, who had spun around at the commotion. His heart raced, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if this was some trick of the light or a reflection of his own image in a twisted mirror. But the intense gaze that met his from across the clearing was not his own—yet it felt hauntingly familiar.
The air crackled with tension, a storm of emotions swirling around as the standoff reached its peak. Firebelly's commanding voice cut through the chaos like a blade as he arrived. "The Infant Crystal is his brother, let them go," he boomed with a quiet fury that made even the leaves on the trees seem to hold their breath.
Cody felt the grip of uncertainty loosen just a bit. Whiskers gave ground slowly, his presence shifting from confrontation to wary observation. Beside him, Fang's massive form receded like a shadow at dusk, creating a path for retreat.
"Go now," Firebelly directed at the draconian-like boy with a sternness that brooked no argument. "Do not let me see you again." His tendrils flickered with an inner light that seemed to dance between warning and outright threat.
With hesitant steps, the boy defied the order and approached Cody, his youthful features etched with resolve. "My right, I have right, to give my gift," he declared, his voice tinged with a defiance that seemed far too heavy for his slender shoulders.
Cody watched as Firebelly's normally calm luminescence turned a deep hue of anger. The Ara’s leader's tendrils flared red, illuminating the space with their intensity. "Then do so quickly, and leave," Firebelly ordered, the words hanging in the air like a final verdict.
The boy stood before Cody, close enough that Cody could see the reflection of his own crimson eyes in the stranger's gaze. For a moment, time stretched thin, and Cody held his breath, waiting for whatever was to come next.
Cody's heart drummed in his chest as the boy's hand reached out, the air thick with tension. He half-expected a shock, a jolt, anything. But when their skin met, there was only the warmth of another person. Nothing more. Cody blinked, a frown creasing his brow, as the boy let go and pivoted toward Tara.
"Thank you," the boy murmured, his voice carrying a softness that seemed at odds with the chaos around them. He took Tara's hand next between his own. "You are kind, save my brother, I will remember." His grip lingered, steadfast and meaningful.
Tara's eyes, usually as clear as the sky after rain, clouded with confusion and a hint of unease. She shifted, looking to Cody for some sort of anchor in this strange moment.
Before she could speak, Whiskers intervened, his earth-toned form sliding between them like a protective barrier. "You better go now," he said, nudging the boy with a tendril of light, "before the First Light does worse than just bannishment."
The boy hesitated, his gaze locking with Tara's one last time, before he turned sharply and disappeared into the shadows of the forest, the infant Ara cradled in his arms.
Cody watched, his mind racing. The trees swallowed the boy's retreating figure, leaving a whispering silence in his wake. Turning to Firebelly, he saw the leader's radiant body still pulsing with restrained energy.
"His gift was a thank you?” Cody shrugged. “Why was he banished? Who is he?" Cody's voice filled with the weight of unanswered questions.
Firebelly's light dimmed slightly, as if the question siphoned some of his strength. "You should have pushed him into the quicksand, and that Crystal with him," Firebelly uttered with a tone laced in acid. The disgust was palpable, hanging heavy around them like the humidity after a storm. "Hopefully I don't have to set eyes on him again for a very long time."
With a swirl of light that could outshine any sun, Firebelly turned on his heel, his ire leaving a trail of simmering air as he stormed off into the distance.
Cody blinked, his eyes wide with uncertainty. He felt Tara's hand brush against his arm in silent support, her presence a comforting constant amidst the chaos.
Fang, a beacon of calm, settled before Cody like an ancient tree takes root. His voice was the soft rustle of leaves when he spoke. "That was the Tenth Light of Ara. Long ago, he was the first Ara to take physical form, and for it, the First Light exiled him and his followers from the planet. We didn't know where they went, but we do now." Fang's words fell like petals, drifting down to settle softly upon Cody's consciousness.
Cody’s gaze shifted from Fang to the spot where the Ara boy had disappeared. He thought about the infant crystal and its brother—the mystical lineage they bore—and how their tale wove into the fabric of his own life. Cody's adventurous spirit hungered for answers, yet he felt the weight of responsibility that knowledge could bring.
"Where?" Cody's question broke the silence, timid as a mouse's squeak. His eyes, wide as saucers, clung to Fang's form, seeking the truth that would piece together the fragments of history before him.
Fang's presence seemed to grow, his aura stretching out like the canopy of an ancient tree. "If I tell you," he began, the weight of ages heavy in his voice, "you must promise to never speak of it to anyone. Not any Ara, not any human." His gaze fell on Tara, who stood beside Cody, her hands wringing the hem of her shirt, "And Tara, you can never write this in your journal."
Tara's lips formed a tiny 'o,' her nod swift but solemn. They both understood the gravity of Fang's words. The secret they were about to receive was a lock without a key, a treasure chest sunk deep beneath a sea of stars.
"If you do," Fang continued, the light around him pulsing with a soft warning, "it could cause the humans to distrust us to the point they might send all their fleets to destroy us." His tendrils flickered, like the final quiver of leaves before a storm.
"I won't tell," Cody promised, voice barely above a whisper, "I swear it." His fingers crossed behind his back, a child's gesture binding him to his word.
"Nor I," Tara added, her blue eyes reflecting a determination that belied her years. She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, sealing her vow in the quiet resolve of her stance.
Fang nodded, accepting their pledges with a solemnity that felt as old as time itself. And in that moment, amid the tangled roots and whispered secrets, Cody felt the last remnants of his childhood fall away, like leaves ready to join the dance of history's unending cycle.
Cody squinted at Fang, his hands still muddy from the river's edge. Mud caked under his nails, a stark reminder of the wildness that surrounded them. He could almost feel the weight of the secrets about to be shared, heavy as the sodden earth beneath his feet.
Fang's nod was slow, deliberate. The Ara's tendrils swayed with what Cody imagined was the burden of ancient memories. "When the Tenth Light was exiled," Fang began, voice a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the ground, "he took his followers to Earth. Their first physical form was not the draconian you are now." Fang paused, and in that silence, Cody felt the past creep closer. "Their first physical form... was a dragon."
Cody's breath hitched. Dragons. Real dragons, not the plastic ones that had soared over his bed in mock battles. His heart thudded, loud in his chest. He pictured scales and wings, fiery breath lighting up the dark skies of bedtime stories. But this was no tale. This was real.
"Dragons," he whispered, awestruck. The word hung between them, a secret too vast for his young mind. Yet here it was, entrusted to him, a link to a time when myths walked the earth.
Tara, her eyes wide and shimmering like twin sapphires, clapped her hands together in a sudden burst of understanding. "I knew it!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing off the remnants of trees around them, each syllable charged with excitement. "There's just too many stories of talking dragons for it all to have been a myth. So, the Ara are the source of Dragon mythology." Her gaze found Cody's, seeking answers to a question that weighed heavy on her mind. "But, why would it be dangerous to tell anyone?"
Fang's presence seemed to dim, the air heavy with his guilt. The tendrils that usually danced with vibrant energy now dipped low in shame, casting undulating shadows on the flood-ravaged forest. "Consider all the damage dragons have done," he murmured, a whisper of remorse that seemed to make the ground beneath them quiver. "The villages they burned, the ships they sank." Fang's voice grew quieter, yet every word struck Cody like thunder. "The time of the dragons was death and chaos."
Cody tried to picture it: great beasts reigning fire down upon helpless hamlets, ancient mariners watching in horror as sea monsters pulled their vessels into the deep. It was a terrifying tapestry of destruction, painted across the canvas of history by creatures that shared his blood.
"In time, the humans forgot the stories were true," Fang continued, his light dimming further, a sunset of sorrow. "But if they knew, it wouldn't be long for them to realize that the Ara had warred against them for amusement."
"Amusement?" Cody's mouth formed the word silently. The concept twisted inside him like a knife. The dragons—his ancestors—had toyed with lives as if they were nothing more than figures in a game. His stomach churned, and he looked down at the tattoos on his arm, its playful innocence now shadowed with a darker truth.
He felt Tara's hand on his shoulder, a small comfort in a world suddenly grown vast and complicated. Their eyes met, sharing an unspoken pact, both understanding the gravity of secrets too heavy for the heart. Cody nodded, mute but resolute. The truth of dragons, of Ara, would be his to carry. But in his silence was the hope that, unlike the dragons of old, he could bring healing instead of havoc.
Cody shuffled his feet, the earth squelching beneath him, remnants of the flood clinging stubbornly to the ground. He could still feel the thrum of ancient power in his veins, a sharp contrast to the serene devastation around him. His gaze flitted between Fang and Whiskers, seeking an anchor in this storm of revelations.
"The dragons disappeared on Earth, I'm assuming they returned here?" he asked, his voice betraying a tremor that belied his earlier bravery.
Fang nodded, the glow about him flickering like a flame caught in a draft. "Yes, they wanted to come home," he began, his tone carrying the weight of a history that had always been Cody's own, yet felt entirely foreign. "But they were criminals, murderers, however," Fang paused, as if the words pained him, "they provided us with something so valuable that the First Light pardoned them under certain conditions."
"Like what?" Cody's question hung in the air, raw and desperate.
Fang continued, steeling himself. "They brought us knowledge of the humans, and we knew that someday the humans would come, whether out of innocent exploration, or vengeance, they would come." He gestured toward Cody with a solemnity that made the young boy stiffen. "The Tenth Light spent thousands of years on Earth studying human DNA, until he was able to splice human DNA with his own."
"Splicing... that's why..." Cody's voice trailed off as he pieced together fragments of truth that seemed to rearrange his entire being.
"Yes," Fang affirmed, "and so their physical form changed to a hybrid Ara-human."
"Wow," was all he managed to whisper, his throat tight with the magnitude of his heritage. This was no game, no fable spun by the fireside. This was his story, written in fire and blood, and it was only just beginning.
"Oh my gosh, Cody, do you know what this means?" Tara’s voice was a hushed whisper, yet it cut through the silence with the sharpness of a knife. "The Tenth Light would have told the First Light about all our wars and the horrors we've done throughout history. That would have terrified the First Light, it would have terrified anyone."
He glanced up at her, his crimson eyes wide with the weight of a revelation that seemed too large for his young mind to contain. "He needed to know how to make me," Cody stated, his voice tight with realization. “I am a weapon, copied from murderers.”
Before Cody could grapple with the enormity of the insight, Whiskers' reached out and laid a tendril of light on Cody’s arm. "Before you go down that path, let me tell you of the day you were born."
Cody's breath hitched. “What else is there to think, I’ve got murderers DNA inside me, I’m a monster.”
Whiskers sighed. “Cody, you stood up to your own kind as they engaged in an evil act to destroy us during the battle with the Mining Corporations. And then last night, when the flood came, you did not run, did not hesitate, you shielded Tara, ready to sacrifice your life for her. And again only moments ago, you risked your life to save an Ara infant. Those are not the actions of a murderer. Those are the actions of a courageous young boy that knows right from wrong, and will do anything to protect the innocent.”
A shiver ran down Cody's spine, the word 'monster' kept echoing in his ears like a bad dream. But Whiskers was not finished.
“On the day you were born, the Ten Lights of Ara whispered among themselves, frightened about what they might have created. But then at the moment you were born, the moment you took your first breath, a wave of pure love spread through the collective consciousness, emanating from…you. It was an emotion we had never felt before, but it spread across Ara like a bell ringing, filling all the hearts of Ara with joy and wonder. The First Light looked into your eyes and knew you were special, destined for greatness as the First Son of Ara.”
Cody blinked back the moisture that threatened to spill from his eyes. The simplicity of Whisker's words bore the truth, and within them, he felt the warmth of a thousand suns.
Comments (6)
eekdog
always remarkable work, cool cover. i don't recall my first breath. or as warm.
starship64 Online Now!
Wonderful story!
PandaB5
But, but, now you've told everyone about the dragons!
The story just keeps getting better.
JoeJarrah
wonderous and wonderful.
RodS
I'm sitting here, sipping coffee, and trying to come up with words that do justice to this chapter, Wolf! It's breathtaking.
I think there may still be a few of those dragons around. They seem to be disguising themselves as politicians and "leaders."
jendellas
An amazing read as always.