The Dragon

Gerald heaved himself over the ledge, rolling onto his back when he'd finally reached the top.  He eventually got up, his scaly skin only getting dustier with each climb.  The job seemed easy enough; Rescue some politician's daughter from a psycho and walk away rich, with none of the legal hang-ups he usually dealt with in his profession.  He made a mental note to always ask for the location before accepting the job.

He walked along the dusty road, hands in his pockets, hood hiding his face.  He didn't know if he'd find anyone wandering an abandoned mountain road, but he didn't want to risk running into anyone from Nineveh.  He understood there were racists out there, but an entire city with daily hangings?  He'd never been so glad to drop a contract.

After a few hours of walking, he came up on an old mansion with an ancient garden.  Dead flowers poked out of the browned bushes that lined a winding cobblestone walkway overgrown with moss.  Rusty wind chimes hung by the porch, stubbornly stagnant despite the breezy weather.  There were statues scattered around the garden, stone angels holding real watering cans, spades, and hedge trimmers, knelt over dead flowers or trimming worm-infested hedges.  Whoever lived here had way too much time on their hands.

The gate was comprised of vertical metal bars, with no obvious footholds.  Even if one were to climb them, they would have to face the sharp metal shafts on top of the gate as well as a bushel of barbed wire someone had gone through the trouble of lining the entire fence with.  It was clear that Gerald wasn't going to climb over this fence.  So he jumped over instead.

Tucking in his legs, he jumped clean over the fence, rolling as he landed on the other side.  He stopped just short of an angel statue that was trimming a bush in the shape of a lion.  Of all the dead and undermanaged things in the garden, the bushes were expertly upkept, showing vibrant renditions of of large mammals, birds, even a school of fish swimming in a leafy wave.

"Nice job,"  He complimented the statue.  He rose back to his feet, taking the scene in with his hands on his hips.  "You do all this by yourself?"  The statue offered no conversation.  Gerald shrugged and moved on, along the old cobblestone path, up the creaky stairs to the rotting wooden porch.  He felt the wood give with each step, groaning as if the house was reluctant to let him in.  When he tried to knock on the door, his hand went threw the termite-infested wood, spraying moldy splinters.  Gerald reached through the hole, unlocking the door from the inside and letting himself in.

The foyer was a large hall of colors that had grown muted with time.  What were once tapestries adorned the wall, now reduced to dusty carpets indiscriminate from one another.  Gerald walked to the main staircase, finding that on either side were two more hedges, trimmed to look like butlers, each gesturing towards their respective wing.  One of them was holding an expensive-looking scarlet jacket.

"Guess you're holding the lovely lady's coat while she's here."  Gerald said to no one in particular.  He took the coat, smelling it along the collar.  He was expecting some kind of expensive perfume or soap or something, but all he scented was sweat.  

After checking the coat's pockets (She wouldn't need a golden pocket watch, anyway) he followed the scent trail to a side door leading downstairs.  He'd lost the trail halfway down, but could now hear the steady snipping of scissors, and decided to quicken his pace.  To any normal person, it would have been pitch black downstairs, but Gerald could see just fine.  Under the sound of scissors, he could now hear a voice, low and urgent.  He cast his gaze about the room, finding only one other door on the other side of the basement.  He made his way to it quietly, pressing where his ear would have been to the door.

"You really should hold still."  Someone said, the voice edged with agitation.  "What use is a muse if she keeps moving?"

Gerald slid the door open slowly.  The first thing he saw was a table full of bonsai trees.  Some plain, others trimmed into precise figures and shapes.  Above the table was a peg-board of different scissors, magnifying glasses, and delicate tools that looked more fit for surgery.  He edged the door further, until he saw a chair bolted to the ground.  In the chair was a girl, maybe sixteen, struggling against the metal wrist and ankle bindings.

"Who are you?"  Gerald jumped at the voice behind him.  He swung wildly, completely missing the man in the suit behind him.  He was tall and lanky, his face expressing genuine disinterest in his own question.  The girl had seen him jump in, and was trying to speak around the tape over her mouth to tell him something.  "Did you touch my trees?"

He pushed past Gerald before he could answer, making a beeline for the table with the bonsai trees.  He chose a pair of scissors from the peg-board and began working while the girl kept mumbling.  "Do you think you could take her with you?  She justs sits there whining all day; I haven't been able to trim something presentable in days.  Honestly, I don't know what Leon sees in her."  His voice was calm, even, if slightly arrogant.  He wasn't the person Gerald had heard.

"Alright, I'll take her, Mister..."

"Noel," he finished without turning around.  "And please don't speak any more, your southern drawl is extremely annoying."  Gerald made his way to the girl in the chair, cautious of Noel, though he seemed content trimming his bonsai trees.  Gerald got the tape off her mouth and started unbinding her arms.

"Hurry up, already," she complained, her English accent playing along the words.  "We need to get out of here before Leon gets back."  Leon must have been the one talking to her before.  But Gerald had come in the only door out... where could Leon have gone?

When her arms were free Gerald went to her right leg, and she handled the left.  As soon as there was nothing holding her down, she practically leapt from the chair, walking briskly for the door.  Gerald followed her, casting one last look at Noel, but he seemed to show no interest in keeping her here.  She was waiting for him outside the door and grabbed his arm, dragging him along.

"You're really crap at rescuing, you know that?  If Leon gets back, we're..." She looked back at him, let him go, and took a step back.  "What the hell are you?!"

"I don't know the technical term, but they basically took a lizard, did some miasma mumbo-jumbo, and experimented on the closest thing on two legs.  Lucky me."  Gerald started walking up the stairs, and the girl followed.  "Got a name?"

"Not as far as you're concerned, freak."

"Mine's Gerald, nice to meet ya."

Gerald reached the top of the staircase, and led the girl past the main stairs and toward the exit.  When he caught sight of the door, it was blocked by several potted hedges, trimmed to look like knights with swords and shields.  There was someone in front of them, hacking away at one of the hedges with a sword.  He had a studded buckler in his off hand and a helmet that looked like something out of a history book.

"Noel thinks he's sooooo much better than me..." he was mumbling.  He finished carving a new knight from the hedge.  "Him and his little bonsai trees can rot in the basement.  Now this is art."  His voice seemed oddly familiar.  The girl grabbed his arm, and was trying to pull him back downstairs, but Gerald shrugged her off.

"S'cuse me."  Gerald called to the man.  He turned sharply, snarling with his upper lip.  The face was worn a different way, but there was no mistaking it.  This man was Noel.  "So... have you seen any of Noel's trees?"

"Noel's just a pretentious creep.  He thinks his work is just too good for everyone.  But... just look at this!"  He gestured to his knights, an almost childish smile on his face.  "Simple, yet grand, aren't they?  That one in the back has a claymore."

"Oh yeah, they're all amazing."  Gerald encouraged him.  No use in lighting this psycho's fuse.  "But, they look like they're blocking the door."

"Well, sure.  But I can't let you just walk out of here with my muse."  His smile vanished.  "You should never have come here, dragon.  I am the noble knight Leon; Prepare to meet thy absolution!"

Dragon?  Well, that's a new one.

Leon, or Noel, or whoever came charging toward Gerald.  Gerald stood his ground, waiting for the right moment.  As Leon thrust his sword forward, Gerald jumped over the stab and over Leon, landing behind him.  Gerald kicked Leon between the shoulder blades, and he went stumbling away, eventually falling awkwardly around his sword.  The girl was waiting by the basement stairs, and made a break for the door when she saw Leon go down.  Gerald followed her, tearing a path through the hedges with his claws.  When he looked back, Leon was gone, and the girl screamed.  Somehow, Leon was at the door, and was holding his sword against the girl's throat.

"You shouldn't let your opponent out of your sight."  He sneered, putting the girl between him and Gerald.  Gerald closed his mouth, holding his breath.  "Though I must admit, she isn't as beautiful a muse as I once thought.  How about this, dragon; your life for hers."

Gerald glared daggers at him, but nodded.  He walked forward slowly, raising his hands in surrender.  Leon edged closer, but didn't notice Gerald's puffing cheeks.  Gerald could feel the heat trying to escape, but he was waiting for the right moment.  "No closer!"  Leon ordered.  He reached into his pocket and tossed something at Gerald.  A cable tie.  "Tie your hands, and she's free to go."  They didn't look that strong, he was sure he could break them.

He complied, tying his hands together at the wrists and showing Leon he couldn't untie himself.  Seeming satisfied, Leon nearly threw the girl behind him, toward the door.  She went to the door, but hesitated to leave, casting a look a Gerald.

Just go.  He wanted to say.  You're in my line of fire.  But he couldn't open his mouth.  He couldn't even breathe safely.  Leon started towards him, sword extended.  He'd need to wait until he was closer...

"I haven't seen many beasts of myth out here."  Leon was saying.  "Though, I suppose most of you are rounded up or killed on sight.  How does it feel to know that even the Mirum are treated better than you?"  Gerald couldn't answer, so he shrugged.  His eyes started to water, and it felt like steam would start billowing from his ears.  The girl was still lingering by the door, staying out of survivor's guilt, it would seem, rather than concern.  Gerald gave her a thumbs-up, doing his best to smile without opening his mouth.  Leon turned.

"What are you still doing here?"  His shield was down and he was distracted.  Gerald couldn't wait for him to get any closer.  This might be the best shot he was going to get.

Gerald opened his mouth, letting the gushing flames out.  They fanned out in front of him, washing over Leon and covering everything else from his vision.  His hood had blown off, draping over the sail that stretched from Gerald's head down his neck.  Gerald stopped the torrent as soon as the flames color dipped from a searing blue to their usual bright orange and yellow.  He coughed and heaved, his chest feeling empty and cold.  When he could steadily breathe, he looked up to inspect the damage.  The carpet on the floor in front of him was completely burnt away, and the wood below it was smoldering.  A nearby tapestry had caught fire, and the whole area still had a haze of extreme heat around it.  Leon was gone, and seared shadow on the ground was in his place.  A hand reached out to steady him.  He took it, walking a couple steps before he was sure he could support himself.

"Next time you have an crisis of conscience, just do the selfish thing and leave."  Gerald told the girl, trying not to cough up soot.  "Everything woulda been fine if you'da gotten out of the way."  They walked out the door and through the garden.

"What's that thing on your head?"  She said, poking his sail.  He ignored the question and swatted her hand away, pulling the oversized hood back over his head.  They walked past the statues of angels, and Gerald noticed a bonsai tree shaped like a tiger sitting in the hands of one of the statues.  There were more trees, some planted into the ground, depicting wars, animals, and very odd-looking geometry.  He hadn't seen those on the way in.  And where were the hedges?

As they turned a bend in the path, Gerald saw someone else in the garden.  He was digging a small hole in a bed of soft soil, planting one of many potted bonsai trees in it.  He turned toward them, and Gerald urged the girl find somewhere to hide.

"Oh.  It's you again."  Noel said, pulling off a pair of gardener's gloves.  He had some of his tools from the basement in a utility belt around his waist, and a small spade in his back pocket.  "I'd like to thank you for taking care of Leon.  As I'm sure you've seen, he can be quite... cantankerous.  Well, now he can trim his crude hedges in basement."  He gave a small wave before returning to his trees.  Gerald didn't bother asking how Noel had gotten past him, or how he was even alive.  He bustled along the path towards the gate, making sure the girl stayed with him.  Gerald reached for the gate's lock, but it was one of the few things here that wasn't an ancient relic.  He looked up at the barbed wire, wondering if he could jump over it again while carrying the girl.

"Excuse me."  Gerald knew it was Noel, but still jumped.  "You forgot this."  He said, handing the girl the red coat that had been in the foyer.  "And here, let me unlock that for you."  He produced a key from his pocket and took away the padlock, winding the chain around his arm.  He gave a small bow and walked back toward the garden.

"Don't care how,"  Gerald muttered under his breath, pushing the gate open.  "And don't wanna know how."  The girl was keeping pace with him.

"So, we're walking back to town?"  

"Unless daddy has a helicopter on standby."

"How long is it going to be?"

"Dunno.  Couple hours?"  She groaned, looking through her coat pockets for something.

"Where's my pocket watch?"