Bryan Davis - Eye of the Oracle

From his deep pocket, Merlin pulled out a skin flask and placed it in the middle of the semicircle of dragons. Then, standing in front of the solemn assembly, he called out, “The flask contains only wine, but those who drink it in faith will receive what God has promised. All who have their hearts prepared will be transformed, and when the fullness of the time has come, you will be restored to your desired state. The slayers will eventually die out. Once they believe that dragons have become extinct, they will no longer train to battle your kind, and the poisoned hunger for dragon killing will cease to exist. When you return, there will be no fallen dragons to make the people fear you again.”

Hartanna stepped forward. “Then let us proceed. I volunteer to go first.”

“No one will change until all have tasted,” Merlin warned. “Otherwise, faith would be made sight before its time.”

Merlin picked up the wineskin and lifted it toward the sky. “Heavenly Father, King of the Universe, bless this wine. Fill it now with the seed of Adam so that these will bear his likeness, both in his glory as the image of God and in his shame as reflections of a fallen race. They understand that the benefit of your presence will depart from them as they share in the human curse. They also understand that should they fall after the likeness of Adam’s sin, they must find their salvation through the Light of the World.”

Extending the flask in front, Merlin walked toward the line of dragons. Hartanna lowered her head and opened her great mouth. Merlin raised the opening of the skin over her teeth and tipped it forward. At first it came out too quickly, spilling a bit over her jaws, but he pulled back before he lost too much.

Hartanna lifted her head and swallowed with a loud gulp. “Be brave, my friends. The wine goes down without harm.”

One by one, Merlin gave the drink to the dragons. A few seemed tentative, but they took it without much hesitation. When he came to Clefspeare, the last in line, the great red dragon bowed his head. “I look forward to shaking your hand.”

Merlin bowed in return. “And I, yours.”

Clefspeare followed the ritual, and after he swallowed, the twelve waited in silence. For the first torturous minute, nothing happened. Merlin took a seat on the ground, while the dragons gathered in a circle.

Several more minutes passed. A few dragons lowered their hefty bodies to the cool grass. Hartanna and Thigocia whispered to one another while Valcor and Legossi tested their wings. Merlin crossed his legs and bowed his head in prayer.

After what seemed to be an hour, one of the dragons broke the silence. “He’s a fraud!”

Merlin looked up. A male dragon backed away from the rest of the council, his head low.

Hartanna beat her wings against the ground. “What did you say?”

“He’s a fraud! Merlin has made fools of us all. There was a second man riding on Clefspeare’s back. I saw him. He must be a slayer, and he will bring the others while we wait for this traitor’s potion to fail.”

Hartanna roared. “Silence, Gartrand! Will you destroy the faith of the others with your own infidelity?”

“This is not faith,” Gartrand said, thumping his tail. “I, too, want to survive. Who ever wants to die? But we have stepped into the humans’ trap. Let us kill this evil sorcerer and fly away to safety.”

Gartrand lunged toward Merlin. In a flash of wings and glistening red scales, Clefspeare blocked Gartrand’s path, but when he opened his mouth to attack, only hot air spewed forth. He turned, as if trying to slash his foe with his tail, but when he swung, the tail shriveled and vanished.

Edging backwards, Gartrand trembled. “This must be one of Merlin’s tricks. The rest of us are still in dragon form.”

Clefspeare’s scales melted into smooth skin, his claws reshaped into fingers and nails, and his giant mouth shrank into the jaw and lips of a human male. Gartrand let out a piercing scream and took to the skies, still completely in dragon form.

Clefspeare pressed his hands together and interlocked his fingers. Hartanna shuffled toward him, and as she moved, her spiny top transformed into long, silky blonde tresses and her scales smoothed into milky white skin. Soon, the other dragons began the metamorphosis, and within minutes, all eleven had the appearance of fully mature adults, perhaps in their early to late thirties. When the process was complete, they gathered together in excited laughter.

Merlin rose to his feet and carried his leather bag to the huddle. He pulled out bundles of clothing dresses, shirts, and breeches and tossed them to the ground. “Get dressed,” he said, in a matter-of-fact tone. “You are naked, and the king is watching.”

“Oh! Yes, of course!” Hartanna picked up one of the dresses and smiled. “Come everyone! Here is another new experience. Clothes!”

The former dragons picked through the garments, offering pieces to one another and helping each other figure out how the fasteners worked. Soon, all were dressed in the garb of middle-income commoners.

While Thigocia buttoned the back of Hartanna’s dress, she peered at Merlin over her daughter’s shoulder. “Master Merlin, what of Gartrand? Surely this was unexpected.”

Merlin dropped his bag to the grass. “Unexpected, indeed, and unfortunate.”

Thigocia fastened the last button. “How so?”

“He may be the only dragon left in the world. He will feel abandoned, frightened. He will not take the usual care, so Sir Devin will have no trouble finding him. Gartrand is extremely vulnerable, and since he knows what has happened, all of you are vulnerable as well.”

“What shall we do?” Hartanna asked.

“While I was in prayer, the Lord spoke to me. His purpose remains unchanged, but with the departure of the traitor, God will accomplish what he has set out to do in another way.”

“Traitor?” Clefspeare tied a leather belt around his waist. “Will Gartrand betray us?”

“Yes, but only at the point of a sword. Devin will extract the information he needs by force.”

“Then the slayers will pursue us always,” Hartanna concluded.

“I fear you are correct. They will continue to sharpen their swords, and the scent of your blood will never leave their nostrils.”

Arthur walked out of the woods and approached the gathering. “Hail, great council,” he said, bowing. “I salute you who were once clothed in the majesty of your race. As long as I live, I will protect you. I cannot take the slayer’s thirst for your blood out of his soul, but I can deprive him of the means to pursue his quest.”

Hartanna curtsied, clumsily at first, but with her second effort, as gracefully as any princess. “I trust that you will prove your promises, my king.” She touched Merlin’s elbow. “Master Merlin, if the slayers are unable to destroy us in their lifetimes, they will surely teach their bloodlust to their descendants. How, then, will we ever become dragons again?”

Merlin took her hand. “Hartanna, it’s possible that some of you will never be dragons again.”

A rumble of murmurs sounded from the gathering. Hartanna waited for the noise to subside, then clasped Merlin’s hand firmly in both of hers and gazed into his eyes. “How will our race survive? How long shall we live? Shall we procreate? And if we do, what kind of creature shall we beget?”

Merlin signaled for all the dragons to come close, and when they were within a whisper’s distance, he looked around at the circle of concerned eyes. “You will not be able to procreate with each other,” he said softly, “but you will live long on the earth. I know of no dragon who has ever died of natural causes, but death is part of Adam’s curse. I cannot say how you will be affected.”