Let There Be Light: Sc.06


                                            >When the two of you really got into making animals, Noire had made a little ring of upthrust schist formations, looking like a shiny stone circle, at the edge of where the trees around the Garden started to get real thick.

                                            >It was there the two of you sat now, pondering what was probably the most important step of your grand project.

                                            >Some of the smaller critters you made over the past several days stare out at you from the edge of the denser forest.

                                            >No doubt curious as to what you’ll get up to today.

                                            >”You are sure you do not want any of your own kind here?”

                                            “Positive.”

                                            >Noire, across the circle from you, looks a bit let down.

                                            >She’s starting to get better at hiding her emotions, though.

                                            “See, I think I have a better idea.”

                                            >That got her to perk up right away.

                                            >No attempt to hide that.

                                            >It earned her a smile from you.

                                            >”What would that be?”

                                            “There were a lot of strange creatures in our mythologies, back home. Never existed. Here, well, that could be different.”

                                            >”I see. A tribute to your kind in spirit rather than body.”

                                            “In a way. I wont make all of them and give them all awareness, but I’d like some variety. Back home it was just us. More importantly, they’ll be able to use the magic you gave to this world.”

                                            >”I see! With what shall we start?”

                                            >That’s a good question.

                                            >Why not start from the top?

                                            “A lot of cultures respected, revered, or even feared creatures called dragons. There’s a couple distinct varieties, I guess.”

                                            >Noire squints at you in silence.

                                            “Something wrong?”

                                            >”It is harder to get a fix on fiction. The representations of this concept are too varied. We will have to do this the slow way.”

                                            “The slow way?”

                                            >”Describe them.”

                                            “Well, one of them was like a big lizard, but it had bat wings sprouting out of its back, so it could fly.”

                                            >”Perhaps like this?”

                                            >In the middle of the circle, between the two of you, a creature that looks like a komodo dragon appears in mid-air, with big leathery wings outstretched. Its body is about as big as you are.

                                            >It’s transparent though, almost like a ghost.

                                            “That’s a good grasp of the basics, but it’s gonna have to be bigger.”

                                            >The creature doubles in size.

                                            “A whole lot bigger.”

                                            >Noire furrows her brow.

                                            >After a moment, the prototype dragon increases in size to such a degree that its nose and tail almost exit the circle.

                                            >It’s almost the length of a small house, now.

                                            “That’s more like it.”

                                            >”What else?”

                                            “There’s more minor differences, too. This is where it really comes down to how it’s portrayed, but there’s some common elements. Like, here-”

                                            >You walk around to its tail, then hold up an arm, tracing the length of its spine with an outstretched index finger.

                                            “A lot of times they’d have spines or plates of some sort running down the length of it’s back.”

                                            >You turn to pull that finger down its tail.

                                            “From the back of its head to the tip of its tail.”

                                            >Noire nods, then triangular spikes sprout from the creature’s vertebrae.

                                            “Yeah, there you go. Then, up here…”

                                            >You trail off as you head towards its head, but end up breaking into a job to get there quicker.

                                            >Once you finally reach it, you start to hold a hand up, but pause, then tilt your head so you can see Noire under the dragon’s neck.

                                            “Uh, can we spin it? Like-”

                                            >You finish extending your arm, then make a half-twisting, half-shoving motion.

                                            >Even as you make the gesture, the dragon rotates lazily towards Noire, stopping when it’s facing her.

                                            “Wow, yeah. Just like that. Okay.”

                                            >Again you jog the short distance to get to its head.

                                            “A lot of them usually had horns, coming off the sides or the back of the head. Two is probably fine. A lot of times they curved in some way. Maybe how they curve could be down to the individual.”

                                            >As soon as you stop talking, two horns erupt from the back of its skull, then curve out and down, eventually curling on themselves like a ram.

                                            “Yeah, like that. Cool. Sometimes on the sides of the head there were these, I don’t know, fins or frills or something. Probably smaller here with the horns like that, but they could be bigger on others.”

                                            >As with the horns, when you fall silent, large flaps of skin supported by spines sprout from either cheek of the dragon.

                                            “Now it’s starting to look the part.”

                                            “Are there any other details?”

                                            >You hum in thought, then walk forward to brush the dragon’s chest.

                                            >You trail a hand across it.

                                            >Not rough enough.

                                            “Give them big scales. Thick ones. Hard, too. They’re supposed to be really sturdy and well-protected.”

                                            >The skin under your hand ripples, then gently digs into your palm.

                                            >You let a little pressure off, and gently curved plates thrust themselves under and between your fingers, growing until they overlap.

                                            >After a couple pats, you rap on the dragon’s chest with your knuckles.

                                            >A few satisfying thunks ring out.

                                            “Perfect.”

                                            >You tilt your head, then duck underneath its belly.

                                            >Dropping to your back, you reach up.

                                            >The dragon settles lower, until it’s resting on your upthrust arm.

                                            >Its legs touch the ground now, though it isn’t low enough to get firm footing. Just a couple talons on each limb settling into dirt.

                                            >You pinch one scale width-wise between your fingers and wiggle it back and forth.

                                            >Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Noire cock her head and frown.

                                            >But something feels like it gives, and the scale wiggles free.

                                            >You look at it in your hand.

                                            >Nice and thick. A slightly thicker ridge runs its length, from where it was anchored to the dragon’s hide to a subtle point on the scale’s outer edge.

                                            >You hold it flat against your forearm, then up to a shoulder.

                                            >It would probably make respectable armor, if any creature was humanoid enough to require it.

                                            >You close the scale in your hand, then look up at the gap left behind.

                                            >Overlap though they might, a tiny sliver of skin remains exposed between other scales.

                                            >You chuckle, then mime drawing a bow, releasing the imaginary arrow at the space between.

                                            >”What is that supposed to mean?”

                                            >Noire’s voice is a lot closer now, close enough to startle you.

                                            >Your start draws a little gasp from her.

                                            “Oh, uh, nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just some common thing in popular stories.”

                                            >”Did you hunt these creatures, in your myths?”

                                            >You wiggle out from under the dragon while she speaks.

                                            “More protected ourselves from them. Dragons like these were often bad guys or whatever. Threats.”

                                            >”Should I make them unsavory characters here as well?”

                                            >You brush dirt off your clothes with your free hand after standing.

                                            “Nah, I don’t want it to be that simple. We can give them some specific traits though. Maybe like…”

                                            >How similar did you want dragons to be?

                                            >You wanted to avoid making any race outright evil, sure. That should be about individuals, rather than the entire group.

                                            >Some flaws though, to offset the advantages you gave them.

                                            “Stereotypically, a lot of dragons desired some specific thing. Usually wealth, but we broadened it in later depictions. I guess it could be something about their childhood that eventually informs what they hoard.”

                                            >”That sounds fair. It will also prevent a good deal of conflict among their own kind.”

                                            “Yeah, that’s true. They were usually loners anyway. Didn’t really make big groups.”

                                            >”What else?”

                                            “Old ones became really powerful. Physically, intellectually, and even magically. Some depictions had them never stop growing. Other times they could shapeshift.”

                                            >You frown.

                                            ”Not sure I want them doing that though. Shapeshifters in general were kinda sinister. Lots of bad stories about them.”

                                            >Hold on.

                                            >You shoot a glance at Noire.

                                            >She’s frozen in place, wearing a conflicted expression.

                                            “It’s uh, usually depicted as better when gods do it. We have a lot of stories about shapeshifting gods too.”

                                            >She grows visibly relieved.

                                            “Nothing against you.”

                                            >”Is there some other way you wish to impart such an ability?”

                                            “Hrm. Maybe they’re more human-like when they’re younger. Kinda hard to collect things for your horde without hands, anyway.”

                                            >”This would fall into line with them being more powerful as they age, as well. But what about magical prowess?”

                                            “Dragons were always associated with fire, but it’s kinda boring if their only power is to breathe it.”

                                            >”It will need magic to fly anyway.”

                                            “Yeah, that’s true. That’s like two of the four already.”

                                            >”The four?”

                                            “Yeah, in ancient times we thought reality could be described in four forms. Or five, depending on who you were. Or where you were, I guess. Anyway, the four I mean would be earth, fire, water, and air. So they’ll already need fire and air, right?”

                                            >”So it would seem.”

                                            “How about we make the two kinds of dragons have a different one of the other two, that way they’re different. These dragons were often in caves and stuff, so they can be earth. And the other dragons, the long thin ones, were like rain gods and river spirits and stuff, so they’ll be water but not earth.”

                                            >”That sounds fair.”

                                            “Yeah. And maybe since they can’t grab stuff for their hoard when they’re older, they can send stuff associated with what they hoard places.”

                                            >”Anything else?”

                                            “Nah, that’s plenty I think.”

                                            >”Then we shall complete it.”

                                            >You get clear as the ethereal form starts to fill in.

                                            >As with the animals before, first its skeleton forms, then its viscera, then all the muscles and connective tissue, and finally the skin last.

                                            >You give your eyes – and mind – a break from it to walk over to Noire’s side.

                                            >She’s stepped back to the edge of the circle while the dragon forms, and you’re happy to have that distance between it and yourself.

                                            >You train your eyes on her instead.

                                            >She never seems physically exerted when she uses her magic.

                                            >You can tell just by how much of her glows, though.

                                            >The spiral up her curved horn is always first.

                                            >Next comes the waves of hazy orange that ripple down the almost-black larger feathers of her wings.

                                            >And if she’s really going, like right now, the crystalline points of her halo-crown get inner fires of their own.

                                            >But it never shows in her body or breathing.

                                            >You wonder what she would have to be doing for it to start taxing her.

                                            >What might her body look like, by then?

                                            >An image flashes in your mind of that time you saw her true form.

                                            >It’s become more enticing as of late.

                                            >Not enough to actually try to see it, though.

                                            >”Anon.”

                                            >Her voice brings you back to reality, as it had then.

                                            “Hrm?”

                                            >She tosses her head in the direction of the dragon.

                                            >It’s whole, now. Also actually standing on the ground, rather than awkwardly floating.

                                            >”Are you ready?”

                                            >You look back at her.

                                            “For what?”

                                            >”For me to give it life.”

                                            “Yeah. Shoot.”

                                            >As with the animals, an orange fire fills its eyes.

                                            >But this fire is far brighter, and lasts far longer, than theirs.

                                            >It looked like something so powerful it should make some sort of sound.

                                            >Instead, just the sound of Noire’s calm breathing.

                                            >Eerie.

                                            >When it’s finished, the dragon – like at least one of all the animals Noire had made – locks eyes with you.

                                            >But instead of leaving, it keeps staring.

                                            >Noire’s voice rings in your mind. “Say something!”

                                            >You look over at her with a quirked brow.

                                            >”Give the gift of speech with your own words.”

                                            >You look back at the dragon.

                                            >You don’t think, back home, you were ever one for inspirational speeches.

                                            >At least nothing comes to mind now.

                                            >You slowly walk forward, trying to think.

                                            >What would a dragon need to hear?

                                            >Its gaze remains fixed on you, its neck arching to maintain eye contact.

                                            >When you stop in front of it, you try to stop your hands from fidgeting.

                                            >You’re still gripping something in one.

                                            >Ah, right.

                                            >Good enough.

                                            >You square your shoulders and try to look Serious.

                                            “You have great size, and strength, and resilience. You are clever and adept with magic. But always remember…”

                                            >You hold the scale up between your face and the dragon’s.

                                            “Everything has a weakness. Be humble; pride comes before a fall.”

                                            >The dragon’s massive eyes shift to the scale, then back to you.

                                            >”I will remember.”

                                            >It spreads its wings, and with three strong downbeats, lifts off and flies away.

                                            >You managed to keep a somewhat dignified pose through the powerful downdraft.

                                            >But it breaks down when you turn back to Noire, and you can’t hide a wide grin.

                                            “Never thought I’d ever get the chance to talk to a dragon.”

                                            >She gives you a bright smile in return. “I am glad I can enable such unique experiences.”

                                            “You say that like you’re not doing almost all the effort here.”

                                            >She spreads and resettles her wings in what you’ve come to interpret as a shrug.

                                            >She’s been leaning more on gestures than words.

                                            >Acting more human, in a way.

                                            >It’s a strange process to see.

                                            >Once you’re back to her side, you turn your attention back to the once more empty ring.

                                            “Okay, now the other kind. They’re still scaly, and they still fly, but they’re long and slender like serpents instead. And their wings have feathers, if they’re even there.”

                                            >You frown to yourself.

                                            “Honestly there’s a good deal of variety. Like they can have the heads of a whole bunch of different animals.”

                                            >”Perhaps we can establish varieties. I can have them descend from a common progenitor, and differentiate throughout the generations.”

                                            “That’ll work. Better than making a ton now.”

                                            >Wait.

                                            “Uh, what about that dragon? You only made one.”

                                            >”I am making others elsewhere on the island as we speak. This way saves time.”

                                            “Yeah, it would.”

                                            >”And you will not have to look at my work as much.”

                                            >You grimace, then look at her.

                                            >She’s still smiling, and spares you a warm glance.

                                            “Yeah, sorry. It’s just a bit, uh, grisly.”

                                            >”I understand.”

                                            “Glad. You seemed put out of it last time I said that.”

                                            >”I realize better why you might feel that way. It is probably uncomfortable for you to contemplate such sights.”

                                            “And some of it’s just gut reaction.”

                                            >”About these serpents.”

                                            “Right!”

                                            >You look back to the next ethereal form in the ring.

                                            >It’s still large, but its longer, thinner body means much less space is occupied.

                                            >Noire has given this one a lion’s head and avian wings.

                                            “These guys were supposed to be much more associated with good and benevolence than the others. Still powerful, but more wise than a cold intellect. They don’t do the hoarding thing, at least I don’t think. But they do love bodies of water, so maybe that can be their thing instead?”

                                            >”I think it is good that these powerful entities are given a preoccupation. It is limiting, in a way.”

                                            “They don’t just end up anywhere and everywhere to screw with things. At any rate, since they don’t do the hoarding thing, I don’t think they need to be more like humans when they’re younger, and they don’t need to send stuff places magically. Maybe they have some greater affinity for the environment, and are able to change it in certain ways. Nature powers and stuff.”

                                            >”This sounds reasonable.”

                                            “Alright, yeah. Pull the trigger then.”

                                            >With significantly less mass, it’s quicker to form.

                                            >Again you must tell it something.

                                            >You look up into those eyes and think for a bit.

                                            “You are a being of great power. Not all are. Always remember to share your gifts with the world.”

                                            >It closes its eyes and dips its head. “I shall.”

                                            >Then up and away it goes, to some other place.

                                            >Back to Noire’s side again.

                                            “Two down, and, uh. I don’t know. More to go.”

                                            >”Maybe something smaller this time.”

                                            “Yeah, maybe. How about, uh, a gryphon. That’s pretty simple. It’s like a lion but the front half is a bird.”

                                            >Noire cocks her head. “Sounds bizarre.”

                                            “Well, I’ve never actually seen one, so we’ll see just how bizarre it really is.”

                                            >Once you get it looking right – which requires some proportioning of limbs and other subtle tweaks of anatomy – you consider it awhile longer.

                                            “You can do the variety thing for different kinds of birds, maybe, but most of these guys’ uniqueness might be coloration. Lots of different looking birds out there.”

                                            >”That can be done.”

                                            “Gryphons were supposed to be really noble creatures. Also associated with the sun. Also with gold. We already have a hoarding gimmick, so maybe they could always know the value of things. They also don’t like horses, which is weird because there’s a creature that’s one crossed with a horse.”

                                            >You rub your chin in thought.

                                            “Honestly, there’s a lot that’s horses with weird features."

                                            >Once again, flesh fills phantasmal form.

                                            >Once again, you’re required to say something.

                                            >More trite advice you dredge up from the depths of memory.

                                            >And then, like the others, it flies away.

                                            >Noire looks back at you, once she’s watched it fly off. ”Tell me about these horse-like creatures.”

                                            “I think we had so many of them because horses were important to us. They contributed labor, they were mounts, they even went to war with us. A lot of what we are is probably because of them. So obviously they pop up everywhere in all sorts of forms. The hippogryph is a gryphon but the back half is a horse. Then a pegasus, which is a hippogryph but the front half is a horse.”

                                            >”That would just be a horse with wings…?”

                                            >You laugh.

                                            “Yeah, glad you picked up on that. There’s also a unicorn, which is just a magical horse with a horn. And a hippocampus, which is a horse with a fish tail.”

                                            >”That is certainly a great deal of horsey things.”

                                            “Yeah they come from everywhere. Honestly I wonder why someone didn’t try putting a bunch of them together. That would probably be pretty neat.”

                                            >Wait a second.

                                            >You look at Noire.

                                            >She looks back at you.

                                            >You both smile at the same time.

                                            “That was it, wasn’t it?”

                                            >”I suspect so.”

                                            “Just kinda snuck up, all casual-like.”

                                            >”Things happen that way.”

                                            >Your smiles turn into grins.

                                            >And your grins into laughs

                                            >You wrap an arm around her shoulders and pat her side.

                                            “You’re pretty good, for an anatomically confused horse, you know that?”

                                            >She presses a cheek into your chest, and wraps her closer wing around your own shoulders. “I hope humans were more affectionate with their horses than that sentence would imply.”

                                            “Oh, for thousands of years. Hey, watch the horn, there.”

                                            >”Ah, sorry.”

                                            >She dips her head down and breaks contact, her wing returning to her side. You take the cue and keep your hands to yourself once more.

                                            >Both of you then look to the center of the empty ring once more.

                                            >”If these horses were so important to your people, perhaps we will make all these varieties. They can have a central place in this world, bound by their commonalities, and connection to your people.”

                                            “If you’re so determined to get a piece of my people in this world, that would probably be the best way, yeah.”

                                            >She looks at you sidelong. “You are important to me. It is then also important to me that this world is touched by you in a lasting way in itself, beyond simply your input.”

                                            “Then, yeah, sure. Horeseland it is.”

                                            >”We will have to come up with a more dignified name sooner rather than later.”

                                            “I warned you I’m not creative. I’ll think of something someday.”

                                            >”Good. Now describe the first for me.”