Cody II, Chapter 7 The Ara shuttle descended slowly, thrusters humming a soft farewell to the stars as it nestled among the cargo boxes that littered the landscape around his family’s ship. Cody pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window, eyes tracing the familiar silhouette of the mining ship he called home. It had been a month—a month of words and handshakes in the Aurora's gleaming halls, a month without his mom's warm hugs, his dad's knowing nods, or Tara's laughter ringing in his ears. "Home," he whispered, more to himself than to Fang, the only other presence in the shuttle. The entity’s tendrils of light pulsed gently in response, a silent acknowledgment from the pilot's seat. Cody's heart felt heavy with a strange cocktail of relief and sorrow. The emptiness of the shuttle echoed the Arena after the Peace Conference's closing ceremony. He remembered standing there, Fang's comforting glow at his side, watching the last of the lights dim until shadows swallowed the grandeur whole. Sadness tugged at his gut as he turned away; the echo of farewells still lingered in his mind. His hand clutched a tablet he’d been given, now filled with the names of everyone he’d met, along with notes to remember conversations and promises he’d made. The shuttle touched down with a grace that belied its pilot's formidable appearance. Fang was a grand figure even when seated, his body a canvas of shifting emerald patterns. He floated rather than walked, an ethereal escort as Cody stepped onto the dusty ground of the landing zone. Today, Fang was more than an Ara guardian; he was the bridge back to the simplicity of family life. "Thank you for being here, Fang," Cody said, casting a small smile up at the Ara who had become both protector and friend. "By Firebelly's decree, I am your shadow, young Cody," Fang replied, his voice a soft hum that vibrated through the air. The First Light had seen fit to reduce Cody's guard detail, trusting in the boy's growing strength—and in Fang's unwavering loyalty. Cody glanced up at Fang, a concern etched across his face. “By decree? Cody asked. Fang paused and extended a slender tendril of light, delicately touching Cody's shoulder. "Perhaps it is more than just a duty, my friend," Fang began, his voice soft and melodic. "Do you remember when I resided within the toy dragon you called Fang? You would often prop me up in front of the life support system to guard your safety." Cody nodded, memories flooding back. "Yes, I do. I didn't realize at the time that you were actually making the necessary adjustments to keep us alive. I took it for granted." A rush of warmth spread from Fang's light and into Cody's shoulder, the same warmth that would cover him on cold nights when they lived on the asteroid. "You and the other guardians were always watching over me," Cody whispered gratefully. "Let's go find my parents," Cody said, squaring his shoulders as best he could to mimic his father's sturdy posture. Fang floated beside him, an ever-present sentinel as they navigated between the crates toward the mining ship's entrance. As they approached, the door to the ship slid open, revealing the world he'd left behind—the world that, despite the adventures and accolades, still pulled at his core with the unyielding force of gravity. Cody Branson stepped across the threshold, ready to reunite with his family. Inside, a kaleidoscope of colors burst forth from the mass of toys spilling out from shipping crates. His fingers danced over the cool plastic and soft fabric, pulling out a small toy dragon whose wings fluttered when squeezed. Cody tilted his head, inspecting the label affixed to the side of the crate. "United Ara Children’s Foundation," he read aloud. A frown creased his brow. He'd never heard of such an organization. The door hissed shut behind him, sealing off the outside world. Inside, the corridors of the ship were a maze of crates and toys, stacked precariously high. He wove through them, careful not to topple the colorful towers that seemed to grow from the very floor. As he reached the bridge, voices hummed in conversation, and there stood his parents, engaged in dialogue with several Ara officials, their forms a blend of solidity and shimmering light. "Mom? Dad?" Cody called, his voice threading through the cramped space. But it wasn't his parents who stole his breath away. It was Tara. She turned, and time slowed as Cody took in her transformation. When he’d seen her last, her transformation had just begun, but now, emerald scales adorned her skin, catching the light and casting prismatic colors across the room. Horns, delicate as the branches of a willow, swept back over her hair, which now fell in golden waves. "Wow, Tara... you're..." Words failed him, tangled in his throat. Her laughter tinkled like chimes in the wind, "It's pretty neat, huh?" "Neat" felt like an understatement, but Cody could only nod, still awestruck by the living fairytale creature before him. Whiskers, now her assigned protector, loomed large at her side, a silent sentinel amidst the chaos of change and childhood dreams made manifest. Tara's green eyes sparkled, a sea of emerald under the overhead lights. She darted across the bridge with an agility that her new Draconian form afforded, her excitement palpable in the air. With a squeal that echoed delightfully off the walls, she enveloped Cody in a hug that pressed fiercely against his own crystal-blue scales. "Missed you so much, Dragon-boy!" Her voice, laced with joy, warmed him more than the tight embrace. Cody's heart raced as he returned the hug, his cheeks flushing with a mix of warmth and surprise. He felt the comfort of home fill him, the ship's familiar hum a soothing backdrop to the whirlwind of emotions. "Whoa, Tara! You're..." But again, words were elusive, snatched away by the wonder of the moment. Her laughter, like wind chimes, filled the room once more, and she released him, stepping back to give him space. Cody turned to find his mother approaching, arms open and face alight with pride. Dr. Amilia Branson wrapped him in her arms, the scent of engine oil and antiseptic that always seemed to cling to her filling his senses. "Mom, what's with all the toys?" Cody asked, pulling away slightly to gesture at the colorful chaos around them. His father, Sam, stepped forward as well, placing a reassuring pat on his shoulder—a silent nod of paternal pride. Amilia's smile softened, the corners of her eyes crinkling with affection. "This is your doing, sweetheart," she said, her voice tinged with amusement and awe. "Every planet in the galaxy has been shipping toys to the Ara children. I'm very proud of you, you did well at the Peace Conference, but we're out of room. I don't know what to do." Cody blinked, the weight of her words sinking in. He glanced around at the stuffed animals, action figures, and miniature ships—all tangible evidence of his impact. The thought that his voice had reached across the stars filled him with a sense of purpose he'd never known before. Cody squared his shoulders, a determined glint in his crimson eyes. "I'll take care of it, Mom," he declared, more to convince himself than anyone else. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused inward, trying to tap into the part of him that resonated with the Ara's unique form of communication. His mind waded through the silence of space, reaching, searching for a connection. It was clumsy, like fumbling through a dark room, but then—a presence, firm and guiding, latched onto his thoughts, pulling him along a stream of consciousness he didn't fully understand yet. "Over here, boy," echoed a voice, rich with warmth and charisma within the confines of this mental landscape. Cody's eyes snapped open, though around him the bridge hadn't changed. Yet, he knew he was also standing before the Third Light of Ara, the Chief Engineer whose creations had soared through the cosmos. "Looking for me?" the Third Light's voice resonated in his head, clear as if he were right there beside him. Cody nodded, feeling the peculiar sensation of being two places at once. "Yes, Sir. We've got toys stacking up everywhere for the Ara children. Do you know anyone that can maybe build us a warehouse or something?" Cody's heart swelled with gratitude as the Third Light chuckled. "You came to the right person," he said, his voice echoing in the mental space they shared. "I'll send a crew over to your place to build you a warehouse." "Really?" Cody's thoughts buzzed like little spacecraft zipping around in his head. The idea of clearing up the cramped ship and giving the toys their own home made him almost giddy. "Of course," confirmed the Third Light. His presence in Cody's mind was like a warm, guiding sun. "Consider it done." “You were in a Draconian body last time I saw you,” Cody said. “Where did it go?” “Oh, that old thing, I only use it when I need to,” replied the Third Light. “I made it a long time ago and it’s getting a little tight. I might have filled out a bit since then.” Cody laughed, then something caught his eye—a shadowy outline just beyond the Third Light's radiant form. Curiosity piqued, he tilted his head, trying to peer around the shimmering figure. "What are you doing?" he asked, squinting at the structure that oddly resembled the beginnings of a spaceship. "Ah-ah," the Third Light chided gently, a tendril of light nudging Cody's chin, spinning him back towards reality. "It's a surprise for your birthday, now run along." His tone held the playful sternness of a wise uncle guarding a secret meant only for the day of celebration. Cody blinked, feeling the pull of the unseen force once more. He understood the dismissal, the need to wait, but his heart raced with excitement. A birthday surprise from the Third Light was no ordinary gift. He could barely contain the questions bubbling up inside him. "Okay, Sir," Cody replied, his voice softened with anticipation and respect. In a blink, he found himself standing back amidst the sea of toys, the connection to the Third Light severed as smoothly as it was made. Cody blinked, the bridge of his parent's ship snapping into focus. Light from the overhead panels cast a soft glow on the chaos of toys around him. He turned to his mother, who was elbow-deep in a box of stuffed dragons. "Mom, I talked with the Third Light, he's sending some Ara to build a warehouse," Cody said, his voice cutting through the silence that had settled over the room like dust. Dr. Amilia Branson looked up, her face brightening. "That's wonderful, honey!" The rest of the day was a blur of colors and laughter. Tara, with her emerald scales catching the light, helped Cody sort through the mountain of toys. They formed an assembly line, passing boxes hand to hand, their movements synchronized in a dance only they understood. "Pass me that crate of model ships, will ya?" Tara asked, pointing to a stack near the door with a grin. "Got it!" Cody replied, muscles straining as he lifted the heavy container. His hair bounced with each step, a wild mop he never seemed to manage. Dinner was a noisy affair; the metal walls of the ship echoed with stories and plans. Cody's father shared tales of scientific expeditions, while his mother discussed her latest research on interstellar botany. Fang and Whiskers hovered silently nearby, tendrils of light occasionally flickering in amusement or agreement. "Did you hear about the new propulsion system the Fourth Light is working on?" Tara chimed in, eyes wide with excitement. "Is it faster than hyper-speed?" Cody leaned forward, eager for every detail. "Even better," Tara whispered conspiratorially, and they all leaned closer, hanging on her words. The next morning, cool air greeted Cody as he stepped outside with Tara. The ground around the ship was littered with crates still waiting to be opened. They got to work, prying lids off with crowbars, their breaths visible in the chill of dawn. "Look at this one, Tara! It's full of toy dragons." Tara peeked into the crate, and lifted out one of the dragons. "This one looks like Whiskers before we knew about the Ara and he was hiding inside that toy dragon you kept on top of the microwave," she exclaimed, holding it up for Cody and Whiskers to see. “I used to pretend that Whiskers was waiting for pancakes,” Cody stated. Whiskers examined the toy dragon with a critical eye before shaking his head. "I was waiting for pancakes, but I certainly did not look like that," he retorted, but couldn't help laughing along with Tara. Their quiet moment was interrupted by the arrival of the Ara work crew. Beings of pure light, they shimmered as they surveyed the land, instruments floating around them like satellites. They communicated in harmonious flashes of light that resonated in Cody's half-Ara bones, discussing the best spot for the warehouse. "Right there, see? That flat area would be perfect," one of the Ara workers suggested, pointing with a tendril of light towards a clearing. “We have to leave room for the landing pad for Cody’s new…” another Ara began. “Hey, don’t ruin the surprise, you dim witted light bulb,” yet another Ara called out. Cody turned away, pretending he hadn’t heard anything, but still, he had to wonder why he needed a spaceship, his parent’s ship was just fine. "Looks like everything's under control here," Tara said, bumping her shoulder against Cody's. He smiled, feeling the weight of responsibility lift ever so slightly. "Yeah, it does." As the Ara began their work, Cody felt a sense of pride swell within him. He was just a kid, but he'd brought together worlds with nothing but a toy dragon clutched in his hand. Cody and Tara returned to work, their fingers sifting through a crate of stuffed animals, each one more vibrant and playful than the last. He felt the soft fur and squishy bodies, imagining the smiles they would bring to children's faces. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting a warmth that made the morning feel like a cozy blanket. "First Son?" a timid voice interrupted his thoughts. Cody turned to see a cluster of local Ara children, their forms diffused with shyness as they hesitated at the edge of the clearing. They seemed almost translucent against the bright daylight, their eyes wide with hopeful curiosity. "Hi there," Cody greeted, brushing a wayward lock of hair from his forehead. "You guys want to look at the toys?" A murmur of eager assent rippled through the group, and like a flock of starlings, they fluttered closer. Cody stepped back, giving them space to explore the treasures he had helped bring to their world. Their tiny tendrils of light quivered with excitement as they picked up toys, examining them with an intensity that only children possessed. He watched them for a while, their laughter echoing around him like music. It was a simple joy, but it filled Cody with a sense of accomplishment. This is what peace looked like—children from different worlds sharing happiness without fear or reservations. The sun reached its zenith when a new figure approached the clearing. The man was tall, his light a deep indigo shade that spoke of strength and resilience. In his luminescent grasp, he carried a small Ara child, her own light flickering with shy curiosity. "First Son of Ara," the man said, bowing so low his light nearly touched the ground. In his outstretched tendril, he presented a diamond that sparkled brilliantly even in the broad daylight. "Hey, it's okay, you don't have to—" Cody began, but the man cut him off with a respectful urgency. "My daughter wishes for one of these celebrated toys, yet I lack the means to provide such a luxury. Could this humble offering suffice? My skills in timber harvesting could repay any remaining debt." Cody's heart twinged at the man's words. He knew all too well the feeling of wanting something just out of reach. "You don't need to give me anything," Cody insisted, his voice earnest. "The toys are for all Ara kids. She can pick whatever she likes." "Truly?" The man's light brightened, hope replacing the weariness in his voice. Cody nodded, and together they watched the young Ara girl float towards the crates, her tentative tendrils reaching out to touch a plush toy dragon. "Is it really free?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Absolutely," Cody assured her, a smile spreading across his face. "It's yours." As the girl clutched the toy dragon to her chest, her light shimmered with glee. Cody felt that familiar swell of pride again. This was more than just handing out toys; it was building bridges and healing hearts—one Ara child at a time. Cody's crimson eyes softened as he watched the man's hopeful gaze shift between the proffered diamond and the crates brimming with toys. He could sense the weight of expectation in the man's light, the tendrils quivering slightly with a mix of hope and humility. A brief glance at Tara confirmed her silent agreement; her striking green eyes shimmered with compassion beneath her flowing hair. "Sir," Tara said gently, pushing the diamond back into the man's light. "These toys are gifts to the Ara children, we are not selling them. Your daughter may take any toy she likes." The man hesitated, his light dimming for a moment before responding. "They are very expensive where we are from," he admitted, the tone of his voice conveying the gravity of what such generosity meant to him and his daughter. "They’re gifts, we don’t sell them," Cody insisted, his words punctuated by a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "For every child, from every corner of Ara." The man's tendrils flickered, colored lights dancing within them as if reflecting the internal conflict of accepting kindness without repayment. Cody understood that feeling all too well—the desire to give something in return, to balance the scales. But today, it wasn't about transactions. It was about spreading joy, one toy dragon at a time, igniting imagination and wonder in the heart of another young soul. Fang's light shifted, the calm emerald giving way to a stormy crimson as he glided through the air towards them with a purpose. His tendrils quivered with an intensity that made Cody's heart skip. "Who is selling these toys?" The words came out like a hiss, the red in Fang's glow deepening with every syllable. The Ara man, seeing the change in Fang's aura, lowered himself even more, if that was possible, until his own light brushed against the dusty ground. "Honorable Third Protector of the First Light, forgive me for intruding." His voice was a whisper of leaves in the wind, barely audible over the hum of the construction machinery in the background. Cody's breath hung in the air, a ghostly echo of his inner turmoil. Fang loomed over the Ara man, a figure of authority and power that Cody had only recently come to understand. The red tendrils flickered like flames caught in a tempest. "I am the First Protector of the First Son now," Fang declared, his voice carrying the weight of his new duty. "Now tell me who is selling these toys?" The Ara man trembled, his own luminance dimming in the shadow of Fang's intensity. He folded into himself, an act of deference to the guardian before him. "A glorious promotion for such an honored Light," he murmured, his words barely piercing the charged silence. "I am unworthy to be in your presence." Fang's tendrils flared brighter, the reds and oranges dancing like wildfire as his patience frayed. "Enough of that," he insisted, each word a controlled burst of frustration, the very air crackling under his ire. "Answer me, who is selling these toys?" The Ara man straightened slightly, his own light a dim shimmer compared to Fang's blaze. "We are humble followers of the Ninth Light of Creation," he intoned with a reverence that vibrated through the clearing, "may her Light shine for all eternity." Cody's mind raced. The Ninth Light—another piece of the puzzle that was his heritage, a heritage that seemed to grow more complex by the day. Fang's tendrils quivered with a silent fury, the vibrant colors of his aura now tainted by the reds and oranges of his anger. "May her light get dunked in a bucket of water," he snapped, his words like static against the quiet backdrop of the clearing. He pointed to the array of toys with a tendril of light that had softened to a gentler hue. "Your daughter may take any toy she wishes." Cody watched the scene unfold, his hands searching for a place to be. Fang's gaze swung toward him, sharp and commanding. "You need to deal with this immediately," he instructed, his voice echoing with an authority that seemed to reach beyond their immediate surroundings. "I will prepare the shuttle." All Cody could do was nod, the movement small and tight. Fang's anger was a wild thing, fierce and untamed. Cody wondered, not for the first time, what hidden depths lay beneath the Ara's luminescent surface. Was Fang some kind of Royal Knight? Cody glanced at Whiskers hovering near Tara. Whiskers was blazing with the same fire as Fang. There was so much about the Ara he still didn't know, but Cody understood one thing clearly: his journey was only just beginning.