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I: The Scaleback Spellbook



They glanced at each other nervously, as if anticipating one another to make the first move and wake the dragon. Neither did. The kitsune did her best to keep her composure but shook in her boots. The kirin noticed this gesture and was, himself, further nerved.

“Yava, how about you handle this one, since you’ve met others before?”

“Like you’ve never seen a dragon in your life.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean you’ve seen Dragon Aspects and had conversations with them.”

“Then I don’t need the experience. Go on. Introduce yourself. He won’t bite.”

The kirin sighed, defeated. He tip-toed toward the dragon; hoping the dragon wouldn’t awaken until the two of them were face-to-face and he could introduce himself. He worried that he’d be clawed to death in an outstretching-of-arms or charred to a crisp by a yawn in the dragon’s awakening. But the dragon was going to meet him regardless so he drew nearer and repelled the thoughts. Then the kirin stopped in front of the dragon’s head rested on the floor. He almost reached out his hand to touch but he caught himself. He spoke.

“Um.”

The dragon opened an eye and murmured sleepily: “Yes?”

“Yes. Um. Great Poison Dragon Aspect,” the kirin began.

“You can be informal with me. No need for titles,” the dragon replied, smiling.

The kirin smiled politely then looked back at the kitsune with an expression that said, Well, what the hell do I do now? Quickly, he turned his attention toward the dragon again. The kirin didn’t want to offend.

“Uh. Okay. What is it you would like to me to call you?” the kirin asked.

“Sini’s fine.”

“Sini. Hello. I’m Khristoff, of the Kitsurin Pact. This darling kitsune behind me is my friend, Yava,” Khristoff began.

Yava blushed.

Khristoff is clumsy and awkward, the kitsune thought.

“Hey, you two. Sorry. I’m just a little surprised to have company. No one’s ever come to visit before.” Sini chuckled.

Khristoff was a fairly tall kirin of a dark blue-green hide and a mane of maroon with an underbelly of a pale tan, and a silver unicorn horn. The mane flowed nearly to his hips and his draconic tail flowed with this same maroon fur. Held in his claw-like right hoof was a rural staff, tipped with a dark ruby that gleamed mysteriously in the faint sun. He had dark amber eyes that held secrets. This kirin was well-built and appeared to be a sorcerer of some sort. Sini estimated him to be a little over seven-foot in height.

The dragon glanced behind Khristoff at his kitsune friend who was shorter and sleek and screamed agile in her physique. Two tails flickered casually behind her. She was of a creamy orange fur and an underbelly of fluffy white. By her waist was a rolled-up whip which appeared to be dull and ordinary but her way of carrying it about was not ordinary. The sparkly blue eyes of this one shone more true than the kirin’s. But they were full of tricks and surprises. She was about six-foot, Sini reckoned.

“I apologize as well. We don’t mean to intrude. It’s that we’ve come across some trouble in Kitsurin Forest, and we’re having difficulties warding off that trouble . . .” Khristoff continued.

“The White Wolves are attacking us,” Yava blurted.

Khristoff sighed in annoyance but Sini raised an eyebrow curiously.

“The White Wolves? The Archives, you mean?” he asked.

“Yes,” Khristoff muttered. “The Wh—The Archives, you may call them, have been attacking our minor villages and murdering innocent civilians. We don’t have the numbers to fight them. And I’m afraid if we aren’t able to find help soon, both kirin and kitsune will be driven out of Kitsurin.”

“But I’ve never been against the wolves. I mean, how did this even happen?” Sini drew closer.

“They have no reasons. They have no intentions! They only seek to divide and conquer. They’re hungry for power. That’s what happened,” Khristoff growled.

Yava wanted to interject, but stopped herself.

“There’s gotta be some reason,” Sini argued.

“No. Listen to me!” Khristoff roared. Then his voice cut off.

“Ah. My apologies, Great—”

“Just call me Sini, Khris.”

“Sini. For decades I’ve dealt with these wolves. Understand that I know who they are and I know what they want. They’ve been expanding their domain for years. The Kitsurin soil is rich. It is plentiful. Nothing can be planted in Archivally snow. The only surprise to me is that they’d never attacked us sooner. But, know this. This day was coming.”

“I don’t know about—”

“Hear me out, Sini. Fire, Frost, Thunder, Wind, Earth, Water—all the rest of them. We’ve sent people of Kitsurin to all the other Dragon Aspects and none of our people returned successful in receiving their aid. You’re the one dragon left that we may ask. So we ask. Will you aid us in defending our people against The Archives?”

Khristoff was eying him expectantly. As small and unthreatening as he may have been, his staff and his stature were intimidating. His face was serious. He had that look about him that said he would cast fireballs and fire lightning everywhere across the cavern if Sini declined. Sini smirked and hid the smile immediately, hoping Khristoff didn’t see. Yava, the kitsune, showed an expression more of worry than of seriosity.

“Khristoff, Yava,” Sini started. “I’m not fighting the White Wolves, if that’s what you’re asking me. But I’m willing to help you. I’m willing to talk to the White Wolves. I’ll reason with them and try to make a treaty and drive them back to Archivally.”

“You can’t,” Khristoff protested.

“I can,” Sini said, grinning. “I’ll do the best I can,” he added.

Yava hurried to Khristoff’s side and spoke.

“Sini, we must act quickly. The wolves are preparing an assault on Aldoran, the capital. If Aldoran’s taken, Kitsurin is lost.”

“Looks like we’re in for a long trip, then, huh?” Sini unfolded his wings and stood up groggily. “So let’s get going. Hop on my back, you two.”

“That’ll be unnecessary, Sini . . .”

Khristoff dug his staff through the floor and spoke a spell, his weight on the staff as he held his claw-hooves to it. After a few seconds of incantation, he signaled Sini to step back with a wave and Sini did. Then, Khristoff pulled the staff out of the floor and drew with it in the air, a large circular motion. As he did so, a gateway of bright blue opened up within the air he’d motioned in and it dilated to four times its original size; big enough for the dragon to fit through.

“We have magic travel.”

The kirin smiled, impressed by himself, and Sini rolled his eyes. Khristoff gave Yava and Sini his nod of approval then darted off into the gateway, evaporating with the bright blue. Yava followed behind Khris, but turned back to Sini before stepping through the gate.

“You don’t have to be involved in our war.”

“I know.”

That was all. She nodded and dove into the gate and Sini came trailing along behind her.

He stepped into a keep. There were castle walls that towered over him and Yava and Khristoff and ungridded homes and shops and taverns built from stick and stone within the keep, stretching throughout the city. He admired the city, smiling; registering its structures and making sense of the society it was and then there was an explosion from one side of the keep and a wall of the outer-city came crashing down as Sini heard Khristoff’s cry: “What the hell just happened?”

The dragon looked down, dazed. Yava and Khristoff weren’t the only ones losing their minds in the city. Some Aldoranians were running his way in shrieks of terror. Confusion. A second explosion erupted from Sini’s right side. The outer city walls were crumbling like papier-mâché where bolts of arrows barraged aimlessly, the city behind the uncleared smoke.

“Sini!”

Whether Yava or Khristoff cried his name, he wasn’t sure. But he was suddenly flapping his wings violently, running through the city streets towards the debris of the walls and the barriers of smoke. Silhouettes appeared from the smoke. White Wolves equipped with longbows and light arrows. Not light as in ‘not that heavy’, either; literally made of light. And one wolf who peered out from the smog saw the dragon and fired in fright. The arrowhead struck Sini in his ankle and he growled, but kept charging forward. The smoke cleared slowly and the wolves flashed before him one-by-one. Some were startled and stepped back. They aimed their bows but they were rushed by the dragon and tackled onto the ground. Many dropped their bows. A few regained their balance quick. One wolf shot an arrow into Sini’s belly. It stung like a hornet of lightning. Sini gasped and fell. His legs collapsed beneath him. When he opened his eyes there were the wolves above him, surrounding his place. He grinned. His tail slapped them from behind and they landed on their feet and Sini stood up, towering over the wolves. He counted five of them.

“Didn’t think you could take down a dragon that easily, did’cha?”

He tried to pluck the arrow at his belly away. The shaft broke off and was removed but the arrowhead remained. He tried the same for the arrow at his ankle. Same result.

The wolves were staring at him as they lay frozen. Terrified.

“Well, what’re you guys still lying there for? Go on. Get!”

They got up and scrambled back to where they’d came from. Except for one. There was a wolf who picked up his longbow and fired a third arrow into Sini’s thigh. From his expression, the wolf quickly regretted this and whimpered and started to turn away until Sini flew up and landed in front of his retreat-path.

“Please—dragon! I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, I know. You accidentally picked up your bow and shot me,” Sini replied, amused.

“I did! I get it! Bad idea. Whoops!” the wolf exclaimed, choking out a laugh.

Sini chuckled and crept closer to the wolf, coiling his tail the wolf’s chest and licking the wolf across the face.

“Don’t take it too personal, buddy. I was getting hungry, anyway.”

“No, please!” the wolf pleaded. “Let me go!”

Sini licked his lips, slobber dripping from the sides; the crease where his maw was closed, beginning to part. The wolf squirmed in Sini’s grasp and whined while Sini shushed the wolf, and opened his mouth, widening it. Hot, the dragon’s breath instantly washed over the wolf and the wolf’s furs and the wolf watched the maw outstretch over his entirety, his own agape. Thick webs of saliva stretched out, with the opening of the dragon’s maw, at the sides of the mouth, which would split and hang from the roof of the mouth, some dripping onto the wolf’s muzzle. Flinching, the wolf turned away but Sini re-directed the wolf’s gaze to him with a low growl. He grinned wide evilly, realizing how intimidated the wolf was. Wider the maw opened and his rows of teeth were displayed and the dragon’s two fangs came above the wolf’s head.

“Aaaah,” Sini exclaimed.

He loosened his clench on the wolf with his tail and scooped the wolf into his mouth by the torso as the wolf moaned and throbbed to the touch of the dragon-tongue. The dragon stood up tall and tilted his head back and his maw closed shut to the last bits of the wolf’s feet being slurped up. Sini smiled pleasantly. There was scratching between his tongue and throat and this was expected. The wolf became desperate and reached for the giant uvula and, as his fingertips slid over it in an attempt to grasp it, Sini jerked his head back quick and the wolf flew into the wet back of his throat. Cushiony and stretchy to his movements downward as the dragon gulped and saliva washed over his furs and the dragon purred in pleasure. The purrs motored through the wolf and his adventure through the esophagus was a bumpy one. Sini purposely swallowed the wolf slowly and ran his claws around the bulge in its downward escalation. His stomach couldn’t help but growl in anticipation. The wolf landed into the belly soon enough and was wetted with stomach acids surrounding him. He cried in pain and flashed a face of panic when Sini’s gut made gurgling sounds.

Sini couldn’t make out what the wolf was saying, but it was along the lines of “Let me out of here”, and “I don’t want to die!”.

“Get some rest,” Sini advised him.

The way the stomach acids worked, the wolf wouldn’t necessarily be digested but his energy would be used for the dragon’s sake. So he would become tired in a way similar to the way tryptophan works on a body and nodded out. Sini, on the other hand, was energized by the prey inside him. He rubbed the bulge of his belly and, out of enjoyment, almost didn’t mind the arrows that shot into his backside just then. But he turned around and there were the White Wolves advancing, equipped with longbows and ready for action. Sini wasn’t intimidated but stood up tall and took in a deep inhale. The plan was to roar ferociously. Instead, he accidentally ended up belching loudly, wetly, eructing clouds of gaseous purple poison. He blushed bright red. The wolves choked on the air and, in a coughing fit, decided to retreat. Sini stared blankly into the distance until Yava and Khristoff came from behind him. Aldoranians were settling.

“Good work, Sini. Your strategy was rather unorthodox, but successful,” Khristoff said.

“I don’t strategize. Really. I just do dragon stuff.”

“Whatever it is you’re doing, keep doing it. Yava, tell our soldiers to recoup and assume positions. There’s dozens of Archive wolves still out there and they’re not getting away.”

“Of course, Khristoff,” she nodded. “But what about the treaty? We can’t continue to counteract and expect the wolves to accept peace.”

“Peace!” Khristoff roared. “They’re the ones attacking us! Aldoran and Kitsurin itself are under assault from those damned wolves, and if you expect a handshake or a piece of paper to change them, you’re out of your mind.”

“The peace treaty!” Sini exclaimed, remembering. “Khristoff, Yava is right. Now is the time to negotiate. We can’t let the tension between you guys be this tight—or—or let any more innocent kitsune or kirins die! I have to go to Archivally and talk to the Pack Leader.”

The ground shook beneath Khristoff and he raised his staff to disintegrate the dragon when Yava touched his shoulder and held one of his trembling fists.

“Khris, let him go. Create a portal to Archivally and direct him to The Library.”

“I will not.”

“Fine.” Yava broke eye-contact with Khristoff, phasing her attention to Sini. “Sini, we’ll have to fly to Archivally. But I will be at your side to direct you to lead the way to their leader,” she said, hopping onto Sini’s back.

“Thank you, Yava.”

“Yava, you step down from that dragon immediately. Don’t expect olive chowder when you return otherwise. Sini, refold your wings.”

It was tempting but Yava replied, “I’ll live,” and Sini ignored Khristoff. He took to flight and he and Yava were off into the sky’s gateway of bright blue.



With the passing of hours the forests melded from a dull green to a wintery white; they flew and below them lay The Archivally, eventually shaping itself from an outstretched forest to an enclosed gorge where, as the two dove deeper, narrowed to a quarter-mile stretch wide, and the clifftops caved in over the land like a cavernous ceiling. Some light shined through the overhung clefts and the center strip of the valley of which they took flight in was sunlit. The rest of the lands were shadowed and all the valley had an underground vibe despite its frost and forestry.

“Wow. Is it always this dark in Archivally?”

“In the mainland, it is. Many wolves choose to build their homes on the valleysides. There’s a large network which runs through the valleys themselves. Tunnels, where wolves make their homes too. Few, but some choose to live on the mountainsides that overlook the valley’s neighboring lands. But the mountainsides are far from the wolves’ main society and often secluded. Cut off from the rest of the wolves.”

“If I was a wolf, I’d live on a valleyside where the air is fresh. And I’d also want to be next to a network so I could talk to the other wolves, too,” Sini thought aloud.

“Well,” Yava smiled. “If I was a wolf, I’d be attacking Kitsurin right now. So I’d rather not be.”

They’d come across a place in the valley where an iron keep towered over the lands, hundreds of feet tall, ceilinged, and sealed by two titanium doors as tall as the tallest trees; maybe a hundred feet high. A tad less in width. Guarding the doors were two giant wolves of white, clad in iron gear, each wielding an iron shield and iron sword. In their equipment, The Archives’ quill emblem was etched. They halted Sini and Yava as they descended from the sky and landed near to the doors.

“State your identities and business,” said one of the wolves.

“Damn. You guys are huge! What’ve they been feeding ya?” Sini asked.

One of the wolves grunted. They were as tall as Sini, at thirteen-feet with rippling juggernaut muscles and Sini couldn’t help but feel depowered. Yava stepped down from Sini’s back and stood to the two guards to address.

“My name is Yava Lapis, Secanune of the Kitsurin Pact. We’ve come to negotiate a peace treaty with The Archives and speak personally to Timon Whisfur.”

She slung the beaten whip from her waist-belt and it was set ablaze, a brilliant streak of cerulean slashing through the air. The guards stared back at each other and murmured things in one another’s ear and eyed the kitsune.

“We need identification for your pet,” said the other wolf.

Sini’s face was suddenly boiling. “Pet?!” he shouted. “I’m Sini, Great Poison Dragon Aspect of . . . the world!”

“Are you, now? Let’s see here.”

One of the wolves pulled a giant tome from his back-satchel and flickered through its pages then pinpointed a particular page and examined it closely with his finger gliding across, poking a place on the page as an uncolored phosphorescent hologram of the dragon appeared hovering over the book’s page.

“It’s confirmed; Important Present Figures Vol. 2 Director Edition, Dragonopedia, Common, Aspects, Page 317-34, Diagram 1,” the wolf stated. The other wolf nodded.

“Is that me?” Sini was suddenly excited. “Let me see!”

“Paws off the book, dragon!” scolded the wolf. “This is an edition issued for Library officials, only. Though I apologize for degrading a dragon of such importance: Sini, the Poison Dragon Aspect,” he quickly added.

“Okay.” Sini groaned.

The wolves whistled in an ear-piercing screech and shouted, “Stand back! The Library is opening,” backing far from the titanium doors.

Yava backed up and yanked an awed Sini away from the giant doors as they creaked open; the sound of a fine aging, of history, and the lands trembled to their spreading of arms. Widening until it widened to a length past peripheral sight, it came to a halt and the ground’s quake faded. Beyond the doors was a large spiraling hallway of a regal red rug sided with what seemed to be thousands of corridor-like rows of shelves—bookshelves, or scroll-shelves, and ladders leaned against them were occupied by sages, of long robes, picking through and arranging the data, their duties ever at hand. Floating atop the rows were letters, archaic-styled, alphabetically arranged, beginning with “A” in the front of The Library and ending in “Z” in its far end unseen. Each letter had a number, such as “A1”, and each row further back continued the count, to “A2,” then “A3”, and so forth. Section “B” couldn’t be seen from the entrance. Yava and Sini stepped into The Library dumbfounded. They forgot why they were in The Library and were attracted into the first row when they heard the doors shut loud behind them and jumped and a sage came to their side with the question:

“Hi, you guys. Can I help ya with anything?”

She was a white wolf in a blue kimono, its bands yellow. Her eyes were a light-blue. Lighter than Yava’s. She smiled warmly and held a scroll in her two paws and began reading into it mere moments after acknowledging the travelers.

“Hi, I’m Sini. And this is Yava! We’ve come from Kitsurin to talk to Tie-men.. Wizfur?”

“Ah, Timon Whisfur!”

“Yeah. Timon Whisfawr.”

“Timon isn’t seeing anyone at this moment, I’m afraid. He won’t talk to his own librarians. He’s deep in study. Once he’s in study-mode, you can’t get him out of study-mode.”

“But we have to see him,” Yava pleaded. “We’ve come to negotiate peace with The Archives and settle our quarrels in Kitsurin Forest.”

“Oh, well . . .” the sage said hesitantly. Her voice dropped. Then she scooted up to the two and whispered in their ears.

“I can lead ya both to Timon’s personal scope, if you’d like.”

“Scope? We don’t want to see him, we want to talk to him,” whined Sini.

“His room, silly.” The sage began walking away then motioned Sini and Yava along with her paw.

“C’mon. Follow me!”

They followed her to the end of A1 where a staircase in the floor led down to a sub-level of The Library. The staircase spiraled lower into the direction they’d came from above and into a dimly lit subway where sage-wolves and sage-tigers and sage-bears (Sini now realized some sages weren’t wolves) and sages of many other species stood by a platform. In the break between two sides of this platform, a rail ran through the subway past rows and rows of old bookshelves marked by an even more dated alphabet, into the unknown. This was apparently the end of the line. They moved to the edge of the platform and waited in line with some of the sages then the sage who’d been leading spoke:

“My name’s Whitney. Some of my friends call me ‘Witty’. You can call me that.”

The dragon shook paws with the little wolf. “Nice to meet’cha, Witty. We introduced ourselves, right?”

Witty nodded. “Sini and Yava. It’s a pleasure.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Yava repeated, nodding.

“I haven’t seen a dragon in The Library before. What are you doing with a bunch of kitsune and kirin, and now, librarians?”

“I don’t want you guys to declare war on each other. The Kitsurin and The Archive people are so nice. Can I ask you something? What’s this all about? Why are you two fighting?” He unintentionally looked at Yava then Witty.

Yava cringed, but Witty laughed.

“I’d rather Yava or Timon tell you. I don’t blame anyone, personally. Both sides have their reasons.”

Sini turned to Yava and asked: “Yava, why are Kitsurin and The Archives at war?”

A rumbling brewed in the distance and a low hum resounded from the railway then grew louder. A horizontal strip of light shone and brightened by the far rails and expanded. A large rectangular subway train of many cars, riding the rails, became visible. It advanced and soon it decelerated to a stop at the platform where they stood. The hum dimmed away. Sini searched for doors and there were seemingly none. Just dark windows. Then, the middle of the front car they stood in line for; it drew up like a curtain into the train’s roof and exposed the sage passengers who’d ridden. They stepped off the train onto the platform’s two sides and those in line stood still but when the platform lit up with a “ding” the train was cleared and ready for boarding and the lined-up sages entered. Witty, Yava and Sini entered. The curtain-like doors on either side slid back down. There were no seats inside but there were handlebars to grip on the train’s sides by the windows and, to Sini’s surprise, the sages of both sides began gripping the handlebars and linking arms with one another across the train in order to complete a chain from side-to-side. Including Yava and Witty, in the row behind him.

Sini frowned because no one had linked with him; he was too big. His row was empty. Then, one wolf on one side of his row gripped the row’s handlebar. Another wolf on the other side gripped the other. He was between the two, and looked at them, and they smiled and gestured to link, so he held out his two front paws and linked happily.

The train’s hum was revived and the train started up, rocking the passengers. They’d been braced by their links. Through the windows, bookcases flickered by. Some sages outside lifted their heads to the train’s going-by. The shelves of scrolls disappeared when the train shot into a small tunnel lit by occasional torches.

“Sini.” Yava’s voice was from behind. “I almost forgot. You asked me that question earlier.”

“Yes?”

“I cannot answer it.”

Sini almost broke his chain. “Why not?”

Yava hesitated. “Khristoff hasn’t told the Kitsurin, either. But Khristoff has stolen from The Library.”

“What?”

“Kitsurin History. Our defeats. Our being overthrown by our own people and being saved by White Wolves centuries ago. He’s gonna burn those pages of the book out and leave what he thinks is best in our name.”

“You can’t do that!” Sini protested. “People learn from history. You can’t cover it up. The Kitsurin will notice there’s pieces of their past missing.”

“In the present day, they’ll know,” said Witty. “But centuries from now, they won’t. There’s bits and pieces of Kitsurin history that not even all of us sages can remember. You see how many scrolls and books there are in The Library? A kajillion! There’s only a few mandatory tomes we have to memorize and hardly any of us memorize them completely.”

Sages usually memorized 30-40 tomes in their life-time; few to Witty.

“Khristoff isn’t gonna give the book back, is he?” Sini asked.

“Books,” Witty added.

Yava sighed. “No, he isn’t.”

“So how are we gonna make peace?”

For the rest of the ride they were silent. Sages spoke around them but the three were concentrated on their own thoughts and those, external, were drowned out.

I don’t like that Khristoff guy, Sini thought.

He’s sneaky.

The train halted and after a stand-still the side-curtains drew up and the links were broken as passengers left the train. Sini began to step off when Yava and Witty tugged him back onto the car by his tail. He yipped.

“This isn’t our stop, Sini,” Witty told him. “We’re only on ‘E through H’. This is Stop 2. We want to get off at Stop 8.”

“Oh. Okay.” Sini frowned.

More passengers came aboard, and linked hands with each other and those still riding. It was another ten minutes before the three reached their destination and the train skidded to a halt. Its hum died down. The curtains rolled up one last time and, excited as ever, Sini dashed onto the platforms and rushed to the staircase which led up, standing there at the stairs’ bottom with his tail-wagging as Yava and Witty and all the other passengers followed behind. Witty chuckled.

“Easy there, dragon! Don’t get too hyper or Timon won’t talk to ya.”

The two caught up with Sini and the trio climbed up the staircase into what was a hall of more bookcases. Except, this hall was separate from the rest of The Library and its columns were filled with texts bulky and ancient. The smallest book looked a couple thousand pages thick. The book-covers were leather-strapped, some lock-sealed, but through their age they still seemed as fresh as the day they’d been printed; books that were frequently used. None had acquired dust.

“The tomes of history, logic, literature, essential for a sage to understand. They’re all here,” Witty declared. “Our main Library has these tomes, but multiple copies of the works have been made here, in The Librarian Scopes, for us librarians to read through and digest.”

“Don’t they give you an upset stomach?” Sini asked.

“They give us knowledge, so that we may use it and pass it to our generations to come.”

It made Sini really think. He thought about what books tasted like and how many books he’d have to digest to be as witty as Witty and whether or not they’d have the same effect for a dragon. His stomach growled behind her and Yava.

“I hope you’re not thinking about eating Timon,” Yava joked.

“What? Oh, of course not,” Sini replied. “There’s important matters at hand. Besides, I had a wolf for lunch today.”

Witty winced. “Even us sages believe in ‘too much information’, Sini.”

They walked by shelves of texts into a red-rugged hallway, twisting, turning, with red scope doors on either side in its dark-brown matted walls and stretching for minutes-on. At the end of the hall there was a double-doored entrance lined with gold over its red finish, into what was presumably—

“The Pack Leader’s Scope,” said Witty. “Personal room, for you, Sini. Anyway. I’d love to stick around, you guys, but I must re-attend my assortment of the scrolls in A1. Ciao!”

“Bye,” Yava said, smiling.

“Bye, Witty,” Sini grinned. “Let’s meet again real soon!”

Witty left. Sini and Yava came to the double-doors and Yava raised a fist to knock when the doors clicked and spread open, and a tall, seven-foot-five wolf, turquoise-eyed, in a black suit, wearing studious glasses appeared from behind the doors.

“Hello you two,” the wolf said amiably. “You were expected. History always repeats itself, you know.”

“Timon, it’s good to see you,” Yava said.

“Hi. You’re Timon Wizfire?” Sini asked.

“Come on in. Have a seat.”

Sini and Yava settled on into the room. There were a couple of black leather chairs facing a desk that Timon’s dark-brown seat was slid-into on the opposite side, in front of a dark plexiglass window overlooking The Archivally a couple hundred feet below. Yava sat in the one of the two close chairs and Sini stood. Timon took a seat.

“Whisfur; you pronounce it like ‘whisper’, with an ‘f’,” Timon responded.

“Oh, Okay. That’s easy to remember.” Sini nodded to himself.

“Timon, on behalf of the Kitsurin people, I, Yava Lapis, wish to negotiate peace.”

“I too, wish to negotiate peace,” Timon said, frowning. “Neither of you, however, have brought back the stolen books from our Library. Khristoff hasn’t returned them, I should say. No peace can be made until the books are returned, and even then, that won’t be enough. Khristoff must be turned in.”

“You can’t arrest him!” Yava pleaded.

“We can arrest him. Although from the looks of it, we haven’t been able to. Many Kitsurin civilians have been killed by my people in an attempt to bring back Khristoff, and for that, I apologize.”

Sini started. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying our intentions were to capture Khristoff and your Pact was harmed in the process.”

“This is something that Khristoff did not tell me,” Yava murmured. “Khristoff’s been holding out on information and the whole Pact’s been misled . . . All in an effort to rewrite history.”

“You’re Sini, the Poison Dragon Aspect. Correct?” Timon pointed at the dragon.

“Yes, sir.”

“Yava, Sini. Khristoff stole a couple of history books and their gaps can be filled in by texts of our Library. But he stole more. He stole a map scroll and something we call The Scaleback Spellbook. Knowing him and his nature, I’m afraid of how he intends to use the two—the Spellbook, particularly. These texts were sealed in our Scope’s vaults with reason. The Spellbook holds illicit incantations and rituals that you, Sini—” he cut off. “You, of us all, should be most careful of.”

“I can’t believe this!” Yava exlaimed.

Sini writhed. But Whisfur continued.

“I have to ask you, Yava. This is important, and I can’t say that you will, but I can only pray you’ll help me. Please, bring back Khristoff. Contain him. Seal him. Send him here. I don’t care what it takes to put Khristoff in front of my desk. He must be brought at whatever cost, along with the property he’s stolen, to The Library; to be trialed and imprisoned. You must—you cannot allow Sini to meet Khristoff. This must be done alone.”

“I-” Yava lost her voice and a tear came to her eye. “I understand. Khristoff’s a criminal.”

“Don’t you worry about me, Timon. I can hold my own and I’ll be by Yava’s side to help her out.”

Timon smiled. “I know you’re capable, Sini.” He got up and walked to the dragon’s side. “You just have to trust me on this one and sit it out. Okay?”

Sini tried to smile back. “I’ll try . . .”

The Pack Leader held his arms behind his back and bowed to the two venturers.

“I’m going to create a portal back to Aldoran where your leader, Khristoff, resides. Do what must be done, Yava. I’ve entrusted in you the . . . er, Sini! Stay away from that kirin, you hear?”

Sini and Yava simultaneously nodded. “Got it.”

“Good.”

Timon pulled a scroll from his pants pocket and set it on the floor-rug, pushing out one side and letting it roll across the floor. Pushing out the other side and letting it too roll out widely across. He then stood and snapped his fingers and a colorless, phosphorescent gate glowed out from the outstretched parchment, expanding wide and halfway cross the room.

“Best of luck to the two of you.”

“Thank you for your help.” Yava bowed.

“Thanks a lot, Timon,” said Sini.

Yava stepped through the portal and evaporated. Sini stepped to the portal but turned to Whisfur momentarily.

“Hey, Timon. What did you mean when you said, ‘history always repeats itself’?

Timon grinned. “Read a book.”

* * *

The windows of the city’s homes gleamed like fireflies when the sky darkened and the sun set low. There was a three-story building on the highest hill of Aldoran, black-stoned and red-roofed, and Yava and Sini stood at its entrance. Yava gestured Sini to stay put and shut the door behind herself swiftly. The dragon groaned impatiently and tapped his toes. The sun was half-gone. The skies sifted from an orange to a blue as Sini curled up into a ball in his wait; waiting for Yava’s triumph in capturing Khristoff and imagining the brightened faces of The Archives after they’d heard the news . . .

The wind was colder now and no more light came from the sky like it had earlier. Kitsurin people passed by, making their way from the markets, the farms, the frontlines, returning to their dens, staring curiously at Sini, snuggled up in deep sleep until his left ear twitched and his head lifted up. Flickering eyelids. The footsteps came and went and he registered his surroundings. It was quiet. There were glary firefly glows.

Hold on, he thought.

How long has Yava been in the building?

It’d been a couple hours at least and Sini was worried so he got up and tapped on the door with his paw. It creakily opened. Inside the building a beaten brown rug led down a hallway and in that hallway were two locked-up rooms, one on each side. He knocked on both their doors. No one responded. Sini noticed that, in the hall, there were small desks where flasks of lime-green, bright-orange and hot-pink liquids lay. A spellbook lay on the right-sided desk, flipped-over. He flipped it to its front side and it read:

Sorcerer’s Transfiguring Vol. 4: Mastering Transfiguration.

It was an ordinary spellbook—(not The Scaleback Spellbook)—so it held no value to the dragon. Turning his attention to the main room beyond the front-hallway were bookcases on all its corners crammed with brick-thick tomes that’d collected dust nearly as thick before a staircase leading upwards. Sini blew off a book from a bookcase and dust particles scattered round. It was titled, The Wonders of Ginseng. It sounded more like a storybook than a spellbook to Sini. A book adjacent was called Emmet’s Immobilization Techniques and the one next to that was Kitsurin War Arts. Something about books clicked. Sini was tempted to re-pick the transfiguration book and browse its contents but in the corner of his eye in the room’s upper right-hand corner on a night-stand was a purple-liquid bottle. He swore he’d been mistaken but the scent of the bottle and his sudden thirst was unmistakable—that the bottle was poison. And it was two-liters full. There in plain sight.

He ran at the bottle when a loud crash came from behind and large, titanium bars rectangled around him and trapped him in a cell stemming from the ceiling. Sini, panicked, shook the cage like wild and spewed fire, roaring, “Hey—! Let me outta here!”

The cage jittered at Sini’s rattling and clawing at the metal and footsteps squeaked down from the center staircase. After hearing the ruckus Khristoff was drawn downstairs. His grin widened at the site of the encaged dragon.

“Sini. Ah! It’s a pleasure to see you once more. Looks like you’re in a little predicament, aren’t you?” he asked, entering.

“Khris! Let me outta this thing!”

Khristoff clobbered Sini in the muzzle with the ruby staff-head and Sini groaned.

“Hush, dim-wit dragon.”

“I’m not—!”

“You’re not the one who’s in charge! You’ve no position to be barking orders at a superior, whelp! You may be strong but a mage can become as strong as you and stronger. I don’t expect you to know this—being illiterate—! But the physical body is limited whilst magic is limitless.” He grinned devilishly, pulling out a scaly spellbook.

“I’ve been studying, however . . . It’s taken me a good few weeks to decypher what I needed from this text but I’ve figured the spell and all’s left for me is to perform it.”

Sini squirmed frantically, furiously, within his entrapment. Puffs of smoke escaped his nostrils. He eyed the bottle on the night-stand beside the cage. Desperate for it.

“I thank you for volunteering to be my test-subject,” Khristoff added. “You want that shiny purple bottle over there, don’t you? That poison?”

“Give it to me!” Sini growled.

Khristoff laughed and handed the bottle to Sini through the cell-bars. “Drink,” he insisted.

So Sini snatched the bottle from Khristoff and pried its wooden cap out between his teeth. The bottle fizzed open, flowing over the glass exterior. He raised it to his muzzle and widened his maw, tilting back the bottle and gulping the fluid greedily. It flowed from his chin as he drank and he grinned excitedly. A warm sensation in his belly grew and his body began to quiver then halfway through the bottle’s contents, he began growing. He bared his teeth and fangs deviously. He was chugging the bottle faster now. His whole body was growing and he rose to fourteen, and then sixteen, then eighteen, twenty-feet tall, continuing the spurt until he became twenty-six feet. A strong puff of purple smoke spurted from his nostrils out at Khristoff. Encaged, yes, but towering over the mage. The dragon gave Khristoff a triumphant “Ha!”.

“I can burst out of this cage in this form with a flick of my wings,” he boasted.

“I’m sure you can,” Khristoff agreed. “Now allow me to demonstrate what I’ve learned from The Scaleback Spellbook.”

Khris grabbed ahold of the dragon’s muzzle between the cell-bars with his left claw-hoof and tightened his grasp. He spoke an incantation. Sini cried out to an electric jolt that flashed over his muscles. The kirin’s grin twisted to the dragon’s pain and a faint radiant purple outline of energy streamed from the dragon’s body toward his, re-hueing itself a dark ruby shade. Sini started shrinking from Aspect form to normal.

“Let go of me!” Sini pleaded.

Khristoff felt strength in the draining of the dragon’s energy and nearly siphoned Sini of all the Aspect form when a fiery cerulean whip lashed round his torso that jerked him to the floor with a faint groan and he released his grip on the muzzle.

“Hands off!”

Standing over Khristoff was Yava. Her grip on the whip remained firm. “You alright, Sini?”

“I’ll be okay. Thank you, Yava.”

Yava turned to Sini and smiled but Khristoff got up and slashed his claw-hoof into her chest. The vertical gouge profusely bled. Purple poison seeped from it. She cried out and Khristoff tsked, turning to the dragon.

“Look what you’ve done, Sini. You’ve hurt poor Yava.”

“Sini . . .” Yava moaned.

“You bastard! I’ll kill you!” Sini tore at the cell, shaking it, snarling. Trying to claw at Khristoff who stood two inches away with his snide grin. “How could you do this to Yava? To your friend? She’s been your friend longer than she’s been mine!”

“Yava disobeyed an order not to take you to Archivally,” Khristoff growled. “You did this! You brought her to the White Wolves! You’re the one at fault!”

A tear ran down Yava’s cheek. “You’ve changed, Khristoff.”

“I’ve changed?” Khristoff spat.

“When we were young, we’d laugh and play and train together. I remember a young Khristoff; before the Khristoff that assumed command of Kitsurin Pact. Before the power-obsession. You’re but a shell of him.”

Khristoff froze and stared blankly between the kitsune and the dragon then a foot flew into his face. He hit the ground hard.

“That’s what you get for letting your guard down.” Yava hmphed. “At least your reaction time is unchanged.”

She turned to the caged dragon and unclipped a keyring from her waist-belt, fiddling with it. “Sini. I’m gonna get you out, sweets.”

The keyhole of the titanium cage was turned and an iron door on the cage’s side opened. Sini stepped out and pounced on Khristoff.

“Sini—wait!”

But it was too late. Khristoff deadlocked a grip around the dragon’s neck and began absorbing the remaining power from him. A faint purple emanation drifted from Sini to Khristoff’s body and turned dark-ruby over Khristoff. Sini yelped as that same electrical jolt of before struck his nerves. Squirming. Struggling, he was. Energized, the kirin laughed and bit down into the dragon’s neck to further drain the dragon. Yava came to the Sini’s side but Khristoff slapped her away with his tail, knocking her backside into a bookcase which came tumbling over and spreading texts onto the floor. Sini cried himself weak and felt like he’d no more energy left but Khristoff continued to python-squeeze the life out of him with his bare teeth until the dragon ran dry and lay there on the floor under Khristoff’s maw in a pool of blood. Motionless. Yava lay across from Sini in her own pool of blood encircled by spilled books. For a long time it was quiet. Neither Yava nor Sini made motion any more but Khristoff got up and wiped his bloodied muzzle off using his hoof. His smile was blood-soaked and crooked but satisfied. His mane flowed gracefully by his hips as live and as full as the Poison Dragon’s energy coursing through. Before he left, he plucked a scale from the dragon’s hide and set it in his satchel.

“Goodbye, my friends.”

And with that he was gone; with but an incantation and a blue flash.

* * *

There was a knock on the door and Dardanelle Thicket, Bludswor of the Kitsurin Pact, entered. Dardanelle was a relatively short kirin of a midnight-black hide and a mane of pitch-black with an underbelly of snow white, a flowing tail, and two long staghorns. She had sparkly emerald eyes that’d glow in the dark. Two dilapidated bodies lay on the floor on a wet bloody rug in front of her and—she jumped. She’d sensed that they’d had been dead for a couple hours but their spirits were still present, meaning they could be revived. She hurried her way out the door and was gone for five or ten minutes when she returned with a basket of mandrake root, vials of fish oil, koi berries, divination dust, and the continentally-rare Ursinean herbs. In the basket was an empty bowl she chopped the root, poured the fish oil, juiced the berries, mixed the dust, and stirred the herbs into. It was a thick brown-blue substance that smelled strong of olden earth. Not yet liquefied.

I’ll have to add more fish oil, she thought.

Another two-vials of fish oil were added to the bowl and the mixture started to liquidize. This mixture was known as Revital Gin, or, “The Spirit of Spirits”. Its effect was resurrection but could only be used within three hours of a death. Its side-effects were dizziness, hallucination, seeing the spiritual realm, and possibly dying again immediately. It worked 66% of the time. That 66% was enough for Dardanelle to crank open Yava’s maw and pour it down her throat. When she stopped, she realized it might have been too much; there was only a third of the bottle left; she knew the Secanune would be dizzy for sure—and the dragon beside her might not have enough to drink. But she opened his maw and emptied the rest into his throat anyway. It could be shrugged off. For Yava was the most important.

And for a few minutes she sat, knees-bent, by the two, waiting. Neither of them breathed or sneezed or anything and she began to wonder if maybe she’d added too much fish oil or gave Yava too much gin and Sini too little. Her body tingled though; a spirit might’ve passed by her, as if to re-enter their body. Dardanelle watched them both carefully and noticed Yava’s ear twitch. The faintest movement but it was movement. It got her excited but she didn’t creep too close in case she might scare away the spirits. So she sat there patiently for a few minutes more till she heard Yava breathe. Yava’s head jolted up almost instantly.

“Sini.” She muttered.

“Secanune! It’s good to see you awake. I started to think you were—”

“Sini!” Yava was shaking the dragon’s body madly. “Sini! Dardanelle, what’s happened to him? Is he going to be okay?”

The kirin sighed. “Your friend has been gone for hours. So have you. I managed to revive you with some gin but I haven’t had the same luck with your friend.”

“No . . .” Yava whispered. “It can’t be. He’s gotta be—he has to still be in the room. Is his spirit here?” Her eyes were tearing up again. “This wasn’t your war, Sini . . . To think . . . the one Aspect Dragon who’d help a bunch of kirin and kitsune has been repaid in this way.”

Dardanelle was concentrating hard but couldn’t sense any spirits left roaming.

“He was here seconds ago. I swear he was—but now, he’s—he just . . .” she choked.

There was silence and Dardanelle said finally: “I am sorry too, Yava. If I’d revived you both that much faster and the gin wasn’t split unevenly—”

“It’s alright, Dardanelle. No one’s to blame. Things just happen.”

“You sure you’re alright, Yava?” Sini asked.

“Yeah, Sini. I’ll be—wait—Sini! Sini, hell! How long have you been resurrected and why didn’t you say something earlier? You scared me half-to-death!”

“I’m just glad I didn’t scare you completely to death because Dardanelle’s all out of gin. How ya feeling?”

“How am I? You’ve had your permanent energy drained. How are you feeling?”

“I feel weak and it’s hard to move,” he said, standing up wobbly. “But explain permanent-energy to me. What’s that?”

“The two types of energy are permanent energy and temporary energy,” Dardanelle chimed in.

Yava nodded. “Khristoff most likely killed you because you had no more permanent energy left. Now he’s stronger than ever heading who-knows-where, doing who-knows-what with your power. And I don’t know how he learned the spell to do it. Draining spells are illicit. They’ve been banned for centuries and there’s hundreds of different draining spells, clear-cut to affect specific species. That spellbook he held.” She stopped and thought.

“The Scaleback Spellbook, Timon referred to it? What if it’s a spellbook specialized for dragons? Think about it. Timon warned you to stay away from Khristoff. And Timon wasn’t surprised to see a dragon in The Library . . . and . . .” Yava began muttering softly to herself.

“The Aspect Dragons,” Sini exclaimed. “Khristoff wanted our help to lure us in.”

Yava cursed.

“You speak of Khristoff,” Dardanelle began. “I came here for him. What has gone on?” She shook her head. “Come. Let us go to my den where the two of you may rest tonight.”

The three got up and left the building and made their way out into the Aldoran night as the kirin led the way to her den, and Yava began the story from when The Archives first arrived. She spoke of Khristoff’s plan to take the Aspect Dragons’ aid, of her meeting Sini for the first time, of the return to the homefront, of the quest to The Library, and finally, of the learning of Khristoff’s treachery.

“I felt a change in the aura of Khristoff. I didn’t know how to react. The White Wolf attacks put him in a negative mood. That’s what I assumed.” Dardanelle frowned.

They came to a small stone cottage with a roof of hay circled by a small garden of herbs and spices and berries. Its aroma was nice in the night air. Dardanelle let her guests settle into her home and find comfortable places to lie down. There were two beds in the room. Yava spread herself out on a bed by the wall while Dardanelle sat on the bed opposite of Yava and Sini curled up into a ball between the two juxtaposed.

“Hey, Yava? I’m still confused about temporary and permanent energy.”

“Let’s talk about it in the morning, Sini.”

“You both need rest,” said Dardanelle.

“I can’t rest knowing Khristoff is out there.”

Yava sighed and Sini glanced at her. He thought about a young Yava and a young Khristoff and what they might have been like. A small kitsune girl and a small kirin boy playing patty cake criss-cross in the grassland came to mind and he chuckled. That was unlikely.