An Angel’s Road to Hell

Sera Pendragon

I wasn’t young or inexperienced, by any stretch of the imagination, but the last half hour… or rather the last few weeks, if I wasn’t being honest, had been much more taxing than I would have thought possible. It had begun on a mountain top, far to the north, a lonely, barren place where the light of the stars and the howling winds were the only distractions, a place I had grown quite fond of in the 200 years since I had left my home. Also… ever since I had added my own decorations, the heads of two dragons, a Blue and a Red, who had stumble across me and the secrets of my family, I had always felt confident that no one on the side of my scaled relatives would ever dare disturb the peace. Surprising, really, that the presence of a winged, golden serpent, measuring over 100 metres from snout to tail hadn’t been enough.

I had been resting, or maybe dreaming. Once we reached a certain size, dragons either had to spent most of their time hunting and gobbling up everything they could get their talons on, or they had to sleep, our flames reduced to a smouldering spark buried deep within. It wasn’t hibernation or even real sleep, our minds remained active and our senses and magic still allowed us to perceive our surroundings, but our metabolism slowed down enough for us to sustain our bodies with a single hunt for a few years. As to why I even spent most of my time in my golden hide when I could have circumvented most of the drawbacks by changing into my original skin or even another humanoid creature… I simply liked it.

When I had first stumbled across my ability to change, I would never have dreamed of one day turning into a dragoness, but after years of playing around with the magic, I had, by happenstance, transformed for the first time. And even though it had spelled the end of my life on Boseiju, it had still felt right… like coming home after a long and arduous journey. As content as I had always been with my tails, once I had grown wings and fangs, long enough to give most whales nightmares, I had spent most of my time in my draconic form. Being able to flatten hills and crush mountains with nothing but my strength was an added bonus. As were the golden, scintillating flames I could produce and the astonishing amount of magic I commanded.

Still, for years and years I had felt… hollow. The love and longing for my home, my child, my family had slowly chipped away at my conviction to never return, to keep them safe. Another reason why I mostly appeared as a dragoness. During my slumber, the memories of what I had given up mixed freely with the impressions my senses provided and from time to time it almost felt like I was back home, surrounded by the fox like figures I just couldn’t bring myself to forget.

And then, during one of my extensive naps, my world had shattered as the enchantments I had left behind had activated. I hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of what little I had been able to see, the thunderstorm of power and hatred that had consumed our island had blown away my feeble spells in an instant, but what little I had been able to understand had set my blood ablaze with rage while an icy dagger of fear had pierced my heart. Death and destruction, fire and flame had devoured what I had tried to protect and I hadn’t even known how many of my descendants, if any at all, had made it out. Like an enraged star, I had taken off from my lonely mountain, leaving being nothing but molten rock and burned bones, and thundered south, the urge to extract bloody, raw revenge just as strong within me as the need to make sure my line hadn’t been extinguished.

Th following days had been filled with despair and hope in equal measure as I had made my way towards Boseiju, a barren island, covered in glass, as if to immortalise the mocking reminder of what verdant life could turn into in the blink of an eye, and rushed after the specks of energy, I had still felt, just beyond the horizon. If they had belonged to my child or my grandchildren I hadn’t been able to tell, but I had been sure that there was still something left, that there was still someone alive, and, for the life of me, I had sworn that I’d find them, one way or the other.

Which had turned out… not quite as I had expected. From the ravaged lair of another dragon to an ancient fortress, ground to dust, I had rushed after them, always too slow, always a step behind, but while I had been fretting over their safety, I had also realised that I hadn’t been chasing after battered and bruised refugees. The traces of their magic, I had encountered once in a while, had been humbling. I hadn’t known how anyone of my tribe could have commanded forces that would have made me shiver and choke, but somehow the bloodied, defiant troupe had run into one hazardous encounter after the next and still manage to stay alive. More than that, in all honesty. They had grown and once I had finally seen a new island on the horizon, the cutting, overwhelming taste I had come to associate with their magic already covering the town like a suffocating blanket, I had found out just how much… at the hands of my very own granddaughter.

As embarrassing as it had been, when I had finally come face to face with the child, who should have still been crying over stolen candy or her chores, I had felt tiny, for the first time in ages. I had known who she was ever since I had laid my eyes on her, our resemblance too much to ignore, but I had also understood one simple truth: whatever I had seen in Sylvia’s mind, whatever fanciful conjectures I had come up with, they had not even been close to the truth. Before me a creature had stood, to whom a dragon meant about as much as a mouse would mean to a lion. And she hadn’t been brimming with joy at my appearance, either.

Luckily Cassandra had been much too busy to spend more time with me, which had given me a a chance to figure out how to actually deal with her later. Less lucky, this also meant I was, by now, standing alone in a burned out room, facing a silent wall of unspoken accusations from a myriad of people, most of which I had never seen in my entire life. Well, I say people, but in reality it was closer to a magical menagerie, ranging from a true and tried nine tailed vixen, the only one of them who had known me before I had left, to a shape changing dragoness, a girl without any ties to our line but who had still joined us as if it had been the most natural thing in the word. Truth be told, I was rather convinced that she was more welcome to my own flesh and blood than I was.

At least the rest of my family looked more or less like I had pictured them, with a few exceptions. Namely their decisively uncaring reaction when they found out that one of their ancestors was actually a living, breathing dragoness who could turn into any creature she so desired. Underwhelming, for sure, but when they told me that their youngest, Reia, had already stumbled through her first transformation at the tender age of twelve, it had made a bit more sense. The fact that Viyara, the dragoness, had shared some of the myths surrounding the Pendragons might also have played a role. As well as her heritage. Still, instead of explaining what I was and reassuring them that I meant no harm I rather felt like the strange, slightly crazy aunt, who had finally returned from her stint in prison. And now everybody was trying to figure out how to deal with me.

At least Helena had welcomed me with open arms but the rest of them… retrospectively, Cassandra’s greeting might not have been as cold and detached as I had first thought. Well, she still was the only one who had threatened me openly, but that could also simply have been her temper and her apparent disregard for decorum, something I could sympathise with wholeheartedly. Or the fact that the others weren’t all too eager to pull my strings while she wasn’t around. Considering my granddaughter had been a child until a few weeks prior, a tidbit of information I had gained when I had rummaged through Sylvia’s mind, they surely held her abilities in high regard. But then again, so did I and I had only met her for barely a minute. Frankly, looking into her eyes and hearing her voice had been more than enough. Our family seriously seemed to be cursed… or blessed, depending on your point of view.

“That’s an awful lot to take in, even for us,” Mordred, my younger grandson, spoke pensively into the lingering silence, which had slowly crept through the room after I had told my story. A brief summary, at least. “And as far as I’m concerned, I do believe you. There isn’t much that would still surprise me, when it comes to our family, but… Gods,” he shuffled nervously, trying to catch his mother’s eye, “our mother is the only one who has ever seen you before today and I just… forgive me, but I can’t simply pretend like you’re some long lost relative I’ve been dying to meet. In all honesty, I haven’t thought about you for years before you tumbled, or rather barged, into our life.”

“I don’t expect you to,” I replied calmly. “We might share blood but I’m still a stranger… wearing Cassandra’s fur,” I added with a crooked smile, echoing her words from before. “Some of it, at least. I don’t expect you to embrace me as your grandmother or even as a friend… for now, there is one simply truth you’ve got to wrap your heads around. Despite your own abilities you’re still stuck deep inside the rabbit hole and I can help you out, in more ways than one. I’m strong, I’m old, I’m wily and I’m prepared to finally do what I should have done centuries ago. Stand by your side with everything I’ve got.” With a meaningful glance in Viyara’s direction I added: “considering you’re already dead set on playing with dragons, our heritage and an ancient, cruel sorcerer there isn’t much to lose but an awful lot to gain. Who knows, in time, we might even be able to get to know each other and finally become what I’ve always dreamt of: a family. Make no mistake, to me, the lot of you already are but I fully understand that you can’t see me in the same light. I’d like the chance to change that, though. And honestly… what’s the downside? If I’m not egregiously mistaken, your sister can take me down with nothing but a whispered command… you don’t have to fear me but you could gain an awful lot if you were willing to… let me in.” He massaged the bridge of his nose, clearly thinking about what I had said, but before he could muster a reply, his brother, Arthur, said firmly:

“That’s not his decision to make and…”

“It’s not yours, either,” Viyara interrupted him softly, her eyes shimmering with golden sparks, even in her elven form. The more I got to know her, the more I understood why she was here.

“Whose, then,” the uncrowned king of our people demanded to know.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s Cassy’s strength that allows us to even talk to her as equals. Consequentially it’s also her decision and she’s already stated what she wants, hasn’t she? For me, that’s enough. It should be the same for you.” With a bright, genuine smile she took a few steps in my direction, hand extended. “I, for one, am truly happy for the chance to meet you. There’s so much I’d like to know, especially when it comes to dragons and your past with them. I wasn’t born a Pendragon and I’m mostly here because of what I am,” her serpentine form shimmered through her aura, “but I’d still like to learn from you and get to know you… just as if I had been.” I returned the smile but instead of shaking I pulled her into a tight hug and deliberately ignored her surprised hiss.

“I’d love to,” I said, the tremor in my voice almost imperceivable. “Cassandra even introduced you as something like my great granddaughter. Care to elaborate on that particular story?” She chuckled quietly, genuine happiness mixed with a tinge of disappointment reverberating through her mirth. I didn’t know for sure, but it definitely seemed like she had hoped for something else.

“I’m pretty sure you weren’t supposed to tell me that,” she finally explained. “Still, I can’t say I’m surprised.” She cocked an eyebrow and turned towards Helena. “How do you think she’d react, if I were to suddenly call her mom?” The silver vixen winked at her and I felt a stream of thoughts pass between them. I didn’t pry, though. I wasn’t even sure I could have, in case I had truly tried.

A soft touch distracted me. Reia had approached us, her expression stuck rather funnily somewhere between glee, curiosity and reverence. At least one of them took my eight tails seriously. Which suited me just fine, I had had to work my ass off to get them, after all.

I presented her with a, what I hoped to be, reassuring smile but she didn’t need more encouragement and immediately babbled away: “you said you can change, just like me? Can you show me? Can I also turn into a dragon? Can we also become really small, like a flea, or even smaller? I tried but I can’t get my mass to change much, I’m always stuck with something…,” while she chattered on, Arthur’s expression was darkening by the second. For a moment I was puzzled, until I went through Sylvia’s memories again. Right. No one had told them what our bloodline actually was. They didn’t know and the boy was adding two and two together mentally. Probably figuring out what the dragoness was actually doing here, along the way. Hurray…

While Viyara was disentangling herself from me, I had already slung one of my tails around the small vixen and pulled her closer. I had hoped to shut her up but, to my chagrin, she took being wrapped up in the tails of an enigmatic, powerful, dark haired kitsune entirely in stride. I didn’t have to puzzle over this, though. Dealing with people was decidedly easier when they weren’t already used to a prettier and even more mysterious version of myself. Damn it, what in the hells even was an angel? In all my years I had never heard a whispered rumour, not even a half forgotten legend. And something like her wouldn’t have stayed a secret, if anyone had known.

Sighing, I pushed the thought away and steeled myself for another explanation. This time concerning the birds and the bees and how we had come to exist. What little I knew, anyways, and however much Viyara could add. Admitting that I had killed the only two dragons, to whom I had ever spoken about what I was, would probably go over amazingly well, too. And that I had never formed anything comparable to an alliance with another fire breather. It had simply been too risky. Telling them that I had mainly lazed around for years on end, at least in comparison to what I could have done if I hadn’t been too scared, while they had been fighting, suffering and bleeding for our people wasn’t likely to ingratiate myself with them, either. Still, it wouldn’t become any easier if I hesitated and they had to know. Our past wasn’t as much of a danger anymore and considering what my family had been up to, their hidden abilities might even save their lives, somewhere down the line.

I covered Reia’s mouth with my hand, effectively stopping the outpour of words while her eyes became wide as saucers, but I simply tightened my tails around her and began to explain. Haltingly at first I rushed through the few facts I had cobbled together and the veritable mountain of conjectures I had added over the years. Once or twice Viyara chimed in, reaffirming some of my suspicions and flat out denying others. What remained, in the end, was a rather simple summary. We were descendants of a powerful draconic bloodline, that had once, for all intent and purposes, ruled over dragons. And while most of our people had been growing ever closer to the forms we had taken on to hide, our family still retained most of its powers. Powers that could be awakened, either by accident or on purpose. What I didn’t know though, and neither did Viyara, for that matter, was why we had even decided to become something else, all those years ago, and why the truth behind our lineage had been forgotten or maybe even sealed.

“I think I can answer that,” a new voice cut in. Scales immediately erupted along my arms and the room shrank until I could feel cold stone press against my hide, but I didn’t care. All I cared for was the large, talking raven who stared at me mockingly from the destroyed, blackened rafters.