Cody II, Chapter 4 Cody glanced over at Tara, her steps faltering against the rocky terrain of the alien planet they had made their playground. Her face, usually a beacon of mischief and laughter, was now drawn tight with strain. She reached out, gripping Cody's arm with a desperation that sent shivers down his spine. "Cody, I don't think my mask is working, I can barely breathe," she gasped, each word punctuated by labored breaths. Panic gripped him as he fumbled with the breathing canister at her waist, his fingers trembling. With a snap, he popped it open, revealing the filter inside, soaked through and useless from the unexpected flood that drenched them and swept everything away, including Tara’s backpack with the precious spare canisters. "Firebelly!" Cody’s voice cracked, betraying his fear as he turned to the First Light of Ara, who stood like a sentinel, his body an intricate weave of luminous tendrils. "Tara's breathing canister was damaged from the flood, and we lost the spare when the flood carried her backpack away." Concern painted the air around Firebelly in shades of pulsating blue light. The Ara didn't need words to express emotions; their colors spoke volumes. "I've called for the emergency shuttle, it'll be here in a moment," Firebelly assured them, his tone calm, and a stark contrast to the tension within Cody. "Okay, Tara, just sit down," Cody said, trying to sound braver than he felt. He guided her gently to a boulder, where she collapsed. Her breaths coming in short, ragged pulls. "Just relax, slow your breathing, help is coming." "The air, is so thick," Tara managed to whisper through her struggle. "Don't talk, you're wasting oxygen," he murmured, more to comfort himself than her. Just then, the rustling leaves announced the arrival of their salvation. An Ara shuttle, sleek and silver, sliced through the heavy air, its engines humming a promise of safety. It descended gracefully through the trees, landing on the path with a precision that left no doubt of its advanced technology. The back ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics, revealing a Draconian man whose shirt bloomed with bright flowers, and behind him, Dr. Amelia Branson, Cody's mother, her presence one of authority and concern. "Mom!" Cody exclaimed, the fear in his voice now mingled with relief. Dr. Branson wasted no time. She rushed over, her movements efficient as she knelt beside Tara. With practiced hands, she removed the faulty oxygen canister, discarding it without a second glance, and replaced it with a new one. Her eyes were pools of calm in the chaos, her focus unyielding as she worked to save Tara. "Get her on the ship," Dr. Branson ordered, nodding toward the Draconian man. His floral attire seemed out of place against the backdrop of urgency, yet he moved with a purpose that commanded respect. "Mom, we're fine," Cody protested weakly, the tension ebbing from his body now that help had arrived. "Her canister got wet, we just needed a new one." Dr. Branson turned to her son, her eyes scanning him from head to toe. For a moment, her professional mask slipped, revealing a flicker of maternal worry as she took in the tattoos that now adorned his skin—marks of a journey beyond her reach. "Let me decide if Tara is fine," she said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of both doctor and mother. "And we'll talk about those tattoos later." Cody sensed the conversation would be anything but trivial. The Draconian man's strong arms cradled Tara easily as he stepped into the Ara shuttle, her head lolling against his chest. Cody trailed behind, his heart thumping in his chest, not just from the hike but from the fear that had gripped him at Tara's gasping breaths. Inside, the shuttle was a stark contrast to the wild planet outside, with its clean lines and the scent of sterilized air. "Here," said the man with a voice as smooth as the petals on his shirt, laying Tara gently onto one of the acceleration couches retrofitted for human use. Dr. Branson was swift, her doctor's hands deftly swapping the portable canister with a mask connected to the ship's supply. "You'll be okay," she reassured Tara, the warmth in her voice wrapping around the girl like a blanket. Cody watched, unable to peel his eyes away as the color slowly returned to Tara's cheeks, chasing away the pallor that had painted her face moments ago. His mind spun with the events that had unfolded, the flood, the hike, and now the tattoos. Tattoos that seemed to pulse with his quickened heartbeat. "Take us home," Dr. Branson said softly once she was satisfied with Tara's recovery. Home. The word echoed in Cody's head. He wasn't ready to leave, not when there were so many wonders he wanted to explore with Tara by his side. "Mom, we were fine," Cody protested, trying to sound more convincing than he felt. But Dr. Branson shook her head, her gaze locking onto Cody's. "You were not fine, Two-tail told me everything," she said, each word heavy with concern. "You were in danger the entire time, and now you're covered in tattoos." Her eyes lingered on the intricate patterns that now marked his skin, telling stories of the adventures they'd had and the dangers they'd faced. "We are going home," she continued, her decision final, "and your father and I will be discussing whether we should leave this planet." The shuttle hummed with alien machinery, a soft thrum that resonated within the metal walls. Firebelly, his body a mass of bioluminescent tendrils, floated into the craft with Fang and Whiskers close behind. They curled into the Ara-designed cradles, their forms blending with the soft light emanating from the ship's interior. Firebelly's tendrils pulsed a calming soft green, a stark contrast to the tension knotting Cody's stomach. "We will escort Tara safely back to the Aurora in orbit," Firebelly announced, his voice a serene melody in the charged air. Her words, meant to ease, stung Cody's heart like nettles. There was no defense, no plea for understanding—just a silent acceptance of his mother’s orders. Dr. Branson's hands moved deftly over Tara, her motherly concern manifest in every gentle touch as she checked the girl's vitals. Tara’s chest rose and fell rhythmically, a testament to the life-saving oxygen now flowing through her. Cody parted his lips, a retort teetering on the edge of his tongue, ready to leap out in defense of their adventure, their freedom. But before the words could escape, a large hand landed gently on his shoulder. The Draconian man, towering and regal, leaned down, his finger pressed to his own lips in a silent command for silence. Three fingers rose in the air—a secret signal, an unspoken gesture—and his grin sparkled like starlight. Reluctantly, Cody swallowed his protest, curiosity piqued by the mysterious man. He watched as the man sauntered confidently to the pilot's seat, the command of the shuttle seemingly second nature to him. The warmth of the control panels danced across his scales, reflecting a rainbow of colors against the walls. Cody’s gaze flickered between the Draconian man and Firebelly, wondering at the silent communication passing between them. Outside the viewports, the landscape of the planet shifted away, trees and rivers shrinking into the patchwork quilt of nature as they ascended. Cody clung to the hope nestled in the Draconian's three-fingered salute, even as his mother’s determined voice echoed in his mind, pulling him back towards a reality he wasn't sure he was ready to face. How could he have not seen it earlier? This Draconian man with his knowing smirk and commanding presence had to be the next guide on his journey, the Third Light of Ara. "Must have an ace up his sleeve," Cody muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the situation. Firebelly's glow, usually so reassuring, now felt like a distant beacon of a plan unfolding beyond Cody's sight. They were scheming, Cody could feel it; a secret plot to keep him and Tara on this wild, untamed planet that was slowly becoming more home than any other place he had been. The shuttle broke free from the atmosphere, the pressure easing off as they entered the calm of space. The Draconian pilot, effortlessly guiding them through the void, leaned forward and pointed out the viewport with a clawed finger. "Look at that rock, it's a big one." Dr. Branson, her attention torn from the medical instruments, turned to gaze where the alien directed. Her eyes widened as she took in the colossal asteroid tumbling through the cosmos, its jagged silhouette ominous against the starry backdrop. "Is that going to hit the planet?" she asked, her voice edged with a scientist's curiosity and a mother's concern. Cody, leaning closer to get a better look, pressed his face against the cool glass, his breath fogging up a small circle on the surface. He could sense his mother's anxiety, her protective instincts flaring as bright as any comet streaking across the sky. But within him, adventure still pulsed like a second heartbeat, urging him to trust in the mysteries of the universe and the unspoken promises made by beings of light and shadow. "Can't wait to see what happens next," Cody whispered to himself as he watched the asteroid, feeling the weight of destiny upon him, as heavy and thrilling as the stars themselves. The man Cody was fairly certain was the Third Light of Ara—said with a casual wave of his hand. "See those sparkly lights, that's the Second Light and his followers. We get those rogue rocks coming at us all the time from the asteroid field, it’s their job to push them away from the planet." His eyes flicked to the tattoos winding up Cody's arms. "Isn't the Second Light the one that gave you those tattoos?" "Yup," Cody replied, tracing the inked patterns with a finger. They seemed to pulse with life, each line and curve a silent testament to adventures yet to be understood. Dr. Branson leaned over her son's shoulder, her gaze locked on the distant spectacle. Her brow furrowed as she pieced together the truth behind the swirling marks on Cody's skin. "He's the one that did this to my son," she said, her voice a tight wire of disapproval. "I'd like to give him a piece of my mind." The Third Light nodded, his movements fluid and unconcerned. "Well, he's almost finished up out there. I'll let him know you want a word with him." Dr. Branson's lips pressed into a thin line, but Cody could see the resolve in her eyes. The same determination that drove her through countless interstellar crises now focused on defending her child. He admired that about his mom, even if it meant more trouble brewing on the horizon. The largest of the sparkly lights veered toward them. Space outside the viewport twisted, and a light brighter than any star intersected with the shuttle. The Second Light did not knock; he simply became part of the shuttle, his presence filling the space with a heavy emerald luminescence that pulsed like a heartbeat. It painted the walls and their faces in shades of deep forest and anger. "Mom, be careful," Cody murmured, but she didn't hear him, her eyes fixed on the figure now standing before her. Dr. Branson's voice cracked like a whip. "How dare you put those tattoos on my son without my permission?" There was a rumble, deep and resonating from the Second Light, making Cody flinch. "Silence, human. How dare you speak to me directly, I'll grow forests from the boy's scalp if it pleases me." He boomed. Cody felt small, the weight of the universe pressing down on him, but there was a fire kindling inside, sparked by the clash between these titanic forces. His mother, who healed with gentle hands, and this being of pure power, who could bend asteroids to his will. He bit the inside of his cheek, muscles tensing to stifle a snicker. The sight of his mother, usually so composed, spewing fury at a being who seemed as old as time itself—it was like watching a comet collide with a planet. He didn't dare laugh out loud; this was serious, and yet, something about it tickled him—the absurdity, maybe, or just nerves. The Draconian man, the Third Light of Ara, flicked his wrist languidly, as if batting away an uninteresting insect. His voice carried a melodious lilt, undercut with a tone of feigned boredom. "She's concerned the planet is too dangerous for young Cody," he stated, drawing out the 'o' in Cody like a playful taunt. "And considering taking Cody away. Especially after what just happened." Dr. Branson's glare could have melted steel, but she paused, turning slightly to regard the Draconian man, her expression softening fractionally at the mention of danger. "The young girl there's breathing gadget was damaged," he continued, nodding toward Tara, who looked equal parts grateful and flushed from the oxygen mask now firmly in place. "And she had to come bring her another oxygen tank." He shook his head, the corners of his mouth downturned in mock sympathy that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Dangerous planet, very dangerous planet for poor little Cody." "It’s not that bad?" Cody interjected, and immediately regretted it. Cody's heart skipped as the Second Light's voice thundered through the shuttle, his tendrils flaring with a fiery red aura that flickered like angry flames. "Dangerous?" the Second Light bellowed, his presence commanding the space. "There is nothing on the planet that can harm the boy. I gave him Nature's Fury to command, is he mentally damaged? He can create a field of oxygen around her, she doesn’t need that breathing mask.” The Second Light suddenly turned to Tara and poked her arm. “Who did this, the Tenth Light? Unexpected coming from that waste of Creation’s Light.” Tara winced as the Second Light's tendrils prodded her skin. Cody felt a protective surge, he didn't like seeing his friend in distress, not one bit. Dr. Branson and Firebelly leaned in closer, their faces etched with concern. Cody could see the rash up close now; it looked angry and raw against Tara's fair skin. His mother's hands were steady, her doctor's instincts kicking in despite the otherworldly circumstances. "I thought she might've brushed against some alien flora," Dr. Branson murmured, more to herself than the company. "What's causing the rash?" The shuttle's air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the thick atmosphere outside that had nearly choked Tara. Cody watched as his mother's fingers traced the inflamed skin on Tara's arm, her brows knitted in concentration. Firebelly's tendrils flickered in the background, casting a soft light over the scene like a silent guardian. Dr. Branson's head snapped up, her eyes fixed on the towering figure of the Second Light. "What is causing this rash?" she demanded again, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of worry for her patient and son. "Ah, I see now where Cody gets his brain damage from," the Second Light said with a sneer. The words were like sparks igniting the air, and Cody felt his face flush with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I asked you a reasonable question, I expect a reasonable answer,” Dr. Branson practically shouted at the Second Light. The air crackled with tension, the Second Light's tendrils glowing ominously as he leaned closer. "I would suggest you lower the volume of your voice," he warned, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the shuttle, "or your next visage of this beautiful solar system will be out there on that asteroid." Cody felt something stir within him—a fierce protectiveness he hadn't known he possessed. He stepped forward, placing himself squarely between the towering figure of the Second Light and his mother. His heart pounded in his chest like a drum, fear and defiance mixing in equal measure. "Hey, don't you threaten my mother," he said, his voice stronger than he expected, "you're just a bully." He glared up at the Second Light, his crimson eyes catching flecks of light from the surrounding consoles. "She's only concerned about Tara, and so am I now, what's the rash?" Dr. Branson watched her son with a mix of surprise and pride, realizing perhaps for the first time just how much he had grown. Cody's stance was unwavering, even as the Second Light loomed over them both, a presence as formidable as any cosmic storm. The shuttle's lights flickered in rhythm with the Second Light's laughter, a booming echo that filled the small space. "The boy is stupid, but brave," he said, tendrils of light pulsing red and green like holiday lights gone wild. "The girl has begun her Draconian transformation, and a thoughtful gift to give Cody." "What?" Tara's voice cracked, a mix of fear and wonder swirling in the air. "I'm going to turn into a dragon-girl?" Her eyes searched for his, wide and shimmering with unspoken questions. Cody reached for her hand, his grip firm. He wanted to say something reassuring, something hero-like, but his words were clumsy things that tangled on his tongue. Instead, he squeezed her hand tighter, a silent promise that they'd face this strange new world together. "Of course you are, are all of you mentally damaged?" the Second Light's voice rang in Cody's ears, the words sharp and biting. "If the boy is to continue this bloodline we labored so hard to give him, he requires someone genetically compatible. I look forward to the arrival of the Second Son of Ara, perhaps he won't be such an idiot." The Second Light turned contemptuously to the Draconian man, who stood unbothered. "I will leave now. Do not call me again, or you'll find yourself sitting on the moons of Orion for the next billion years." And then there was nothing but the hum of the shuttle and the distant stars outside that seemed to twinkle mischievously, as if they too had witnessed the spectacle. Cody swallowed hard, his gaze shifting to the Draconian man, the Third Light, whose presence felt both comforting and mysterious. "Can he do that?" he asked, the question small in the enormity of their surroundings. The man's eyes crinkled, a soft smile touching his lips as if amused by the audacity of youth. His fingers tapped against his thigh in a rhythm that Cody felt rather than heard, a silent communication between beings of immense power. "No," he said, his voice a soft rumble like distant thunder. "I'm just as strong as he is, but I do love his threats, they are always so original." Cody blinked, absorbing the assurance. "I have a question I've been thinking about," he started, his words tentative as he gazed up at the Third Light. Cody's forehead creased with the effort of articulating his thoughts. "If Firebelly isn't the strongest, how is he the First Light?" The Draconian man leaned down, bringing his face closer to Cody's level. His eyes held galaxies within them, swirling with secrets and knowledge that stretched far beyond Cody's understanding. "Strength isn't just muscle and might, young one," the man said. "Firebelly sees layers of reality we barely touch. He orchestrates symphonies from the threads of fate. That foresight, that wisdom... it makes him the leader we follow." Cody nodded, his mind painting images of Firebelly moving chess pieces on a board made of stars and time, weaving destinies with an unseen hand. Dr. Branson's voice pulled him from his reverie, her tone tinged with urgency. "How do we reverse this on Tara?" she asked, her gaze fixed on her patient, her concern palpable in the cramped space of the shuttle. "I will have the Fourth Light attempt to reverse the effect," Firebelly stated, his voice reverberating through the shuttle, carrying the weight of stars and galaxies. "You will not! This is perfect, this is what I’ve dreamed of, and nobody is stopping it.” Tara’s gaze shifted to Cody. “See, I told you, and I was right!" Cody's forehead creased with confusion. "Told me what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, lost in the hum of the shuttle's engines. Tara tilted her head, her damp hair plastered against her face. A mix of impatience and innocence shadowed her features. "You don't remember, do you?" she said, her tone carrying the weight of forgotten promises. The question hung in the air, heavy and expectant, while Cody searched the depths of his mind for clues. He watched Tara's expression change with the shifting lights, her striking blue eyes reflecting a universe of emotions. "Remember when you arrived on Ganymede Station," Tara began, her voice a melody that pulled him back to the space station spinning silently among the stars. "Your parents had to get your ship’s engine refitted. I was living on Ganymede with my Uncle Max, because the Aurora was getting refitted also." Her eyes sparkled, not unlike the distant flickering of star systems, as she recounted the anticipation of new friendship. "There were no kids my age, so when Uncle Max said another five-year-old was coming in three days, I was so excited. I waited at the airlock the entire three days." Cody imagined her then: a tiny girl bouncing eagerly on the balls of her feet as people came and went, none the friend she awaited. He envisioned her small figure framed by the massive airlock, dwarfed yet undeterred. "And then you were there." Tara's voice softened, her gaze holding his. "Remember how I showed you the whole station, and we played?" The shuttle banked gently as memories flooded in Cody’s mind. The vast corridors of Ganymede Station unfurled in his mind, endless games of hide-and-seek amongst the conduits and cargo bays, their laughter echoing off the metal walls. "Yes, I remember," Cody replied. "We became best friends." "Do you remember what I told you, the day you had to leave to go back to that stupid asteroid?" Tara's voice pulled at Cody's attention. "You had Firebelly in one hand, and three new packages of dragons in your other hand." Her lips twitched upward, but her eyes held a shimmer of something unspoken. "You were so excited. You ran up the ramp into your ship, and I shouted something at you." Cody's brow furrowed as he delved into the recesses of his mind, searching for the echoes of that day. The faces of his parents flashed before him—smiling, encouraging—as he'd hoisted his treasures high. The scent of engine fuel mixed with the metallic tang of the station's recycled air. His unruly hair bounced as he ran up the ramp, eager for the adventure awaiting him among the stars. He'd reached the top of the ramp, spinning around to wave at Tara, her blonde hair glowing like a halo in the artificial light. Then he'd turned, ready to step through the ship's doors, into the future... And that's when it hit him, the dam breaking as the memory came rushing back. Tara's voice, strong and clear, cutting through the din of pre-launch checks and farewells. Cody’s breath caught, and his eyes widened, the impact of that moment crashing into him once again. "I see it in your eyes, you remember," she said triumphantly, her voice a melody that danced through the tension in the shuttle. "I was so scared this was our last time together, our last camping trip, I've been so sad, but now..." The smile didn't leave her face even as she lifted her arm, displaying the rash that had caused such concern only moments before. Cody stared at the rash, its redness a stark contrast against her skin, but it was no longer just a rash to him—it was a bridge across the chasm of fear that they might drift apart. The rush of memories, anchored him back to a moment that once felt insignificant but now held the gravity of destiny. On that day, years ago, he had been full of youthful exuberance, his steps buoyant as he bounded into the ship, Firebelly clutched tight, dragons crinkling in their packages, each step toward the ship's interior pulling him away from the station, from her. He'd turned, a wild mop of curls catching the light, offering a final wave to the girl who had become his best friend in the whole universe. And then she had shouted, her voice piercing through the commotion, clear and undeniable—a promise flung into the void between them. "I'm going to marry you someday, Cody Branson." A laugh bubbled up in Cody's chest, the absurdity and earnestness of the memory mingling together. He glanced at Tara, whose eyes shimmered with tears and joy alike, and realized that some promises, no matter how fantastical, were meant to be kept—by fate or sheer will, they would not be denied. “Oh dear,” Dr. Branson said breathlessly, recalling that day and the adorable way Tara had shouted out her declaration to Cody. “We need to have a very long talk.”