A Dragons Slave Ch 08 Closure

I release a hefty sigh as I dip the fountain pen back into the reservoir. Why the elves won't give humans the ballpoint pen is beyond me...

I scan through the document, rolling my eyes at the contents. It's another stipend for that stupid cult...but hey, we're bound by law to give it to them.

I sign it and push it aside, silently steaming about the loopholes being used by those derelicts. I reach for the next paper, but stop.

"Rebecca?"

"Yes, Mister Resignor?"

"Why is this document on the top of the pile?"

I hear the clacking of expensive shoes on wood as my secretary enters, wearing her usual humble outfit that gives her a very plain, attractive appearance that comes solely from the way she carries herself.

"Sir, you need to sign it," she informs me, rather forcefully. "It's been almost a month - your son is-" she hesitates, and bites her tongue.

"Not until I see a body."

"The whole village was burned down! They found your wife's remains, so what are the chances that-"

"Their home was unlocked without signs of forced entry. He had used sewing equipment and packed an Elvish bag before escaping. He is alive, and until I see a body, I will not sign his death certificate." I firmly hold out the paper, and Rebecca takes it with a hint of trepidation.

"Sir, look, I get that you want to believe that he's alive, but..." She places her hand on my arm, and I cock an eyebrow at her. She withdraws before continuing. "You can't blame yourself for this."

"Can't I? I sent them away to try to protect her from myself, and yet she dies?" Rebecca frowns. She knows full well what I am, and why adultery was a common thing in my marriage - having experienced it first hand. She also knew that I was less than happy with the necessity for such a thing, and that my sending my family away was an act of desperation - which was clearly in vain.

"You couldn't have known-"

"That there was a dragon? Of course I could have. I could have sent scouts to check out the castle on the hill - if they didn't return, or gave bad news, I wouldn't have sent my family there." I readjust my seat, and reach for the next document. "Now, Rebecca, if that will be all, I'd like to return to business."

She pouts at me before walking away. Once I'm sure she can't see me, I release my tension and place my head in my hands, my elbows falling into now-familiar depressions on the desk. My wife and my child...

I look up as there's a knock on the door, and a man in a delivery suit walks into the waiting room.

"Hello, this is the office of Mister Resignor. How may I help you?"

"I've got three packages for Evan Resignor," I hear him inform her in a monotone, bored voice. "They're right outside."

"Oh, okay, uh...did security check them yet?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replies. "Nothin' out of the ordinary. But they didn't open them - said it was for him to open only."

Rebecca sighs, loudly. "Bring them in," she announces, resigned. I feel just like she sounds - I know what this means...

For the past few years, the dragons nearby have been creating a city. And they've needed help from city planners. So, they sent a magically infused crate to us that forced people to basically ignore it - nobody would open it, as they claimed it was for me to open only.

In that box was a dragon in the form of a human, sent as a delegate, and in a way that wouldn't incite mass panic.

Ever since then, there's been a sort of...correspondence between them and myself - we've supplied materials, food, and at times, even manpower - but only of volunteers who were hand-picked from civil engineers and construction workers who had professed an interest in dragons. They were kept as "slaves", but in reality, they're employees, and they get leave and can even quit. Sometimes, they send people back so they can rest, and we have to send them replacements - mostly because if we don't, I'm pretty sure they'd attack. That, and...I do owe them a significant amount for, uh...something from a very long time ago.

Anyway, when they send three crates at a time, I know that they're requesting replacements. I stand with a sigh as I prepare to meet three people who have had their memories of the city suppressed - as they always do. I enter the waiting room, and Rebecca offers me the crowbar that we purchased for these boxes especially.

"Alright," I announce. "Get ready with a cover story..."

"Ready," she replies, pulling out a stack of papers, with one for each human we sent to the dragons. All cover stories to convince the people who come back that they were away on work in a developing city. A developing human city, that is.

"First one is..." I dig the city crowbar into the side of the crate. There's no invoice on the outside that denotes the occupant - so I can only assume that they put it inside. Maybe their typewriter is running out of ink, so they decided to put it in the box so it won't get damaged by the -

I numbly step aside as the crates' cover falls to the ground, blowing dust and little pieces of paper swirling about. I stare at its occupant in shock.

"First one is who? We only have so long before they wake up, and-" Rebecca looks up, and stops mid-sentence. "Oh."

"Hi dad," Peter announces, sheepishly.

-----------

Peter:

The dragons had a way to get us into Amallhia, undetected - and then remain undetected. Apparently, it's common now. Which is...strange.

I'm impressed that they were able to block Demetra's RFID chip by using a magical charm. I didn't expect it to work, honestly - but it did!

And now, the fruits of draconic labor have been, uh...sowed? Reaped? Which one is which? I've completely forgotten...

Anyway, we're all sitting in chairs in front of my dad's desk, and he's currently facing away, deep in thought. I can see Rebecca out of the corner of my eye, watching us nervously. Ugh, I hate Rebecca...dad cheated on mom with her a few times. I mean, she's nice, but...still.

"Rebecca, you can go home for the day," dad informs her. "And close the door, please." She wordlessly goes about doing just that, and I hear her heels clacking as she goes down the hall.

"So...you're telling me that you're the slave and friend of the dragon that killed you mother, Demetrius is actually Demetr-A, and somehow, you know that I'm a demon..."

"Yeah."

He sighs, and turns his chair to face us, looking directly at me. I try to find some sort of demonic nature in his eyes, but...they're just regular eyes.

"Peter...it's time that I explain to you why I behaved as I did with your mother. Why I...committed adultery, why I sent you away...all of it." He glances at the two women by my sides. "Would you like for them to leave?" I shake my head in response - I want to hear this now. I don't care who else hears it.

"Peter, there are many kinds of demons," he announces. "I am an Incubus. I feed upon emotions. And I...I fell in love with your mother. I told her what I was, but she didn't care. We went out, and we got married. And then we had you. I was as happy as I'd ever been..." He smiles wistfully, but I see sadness etch its way across his face like I've never seen before. I shift in my chair, swallowing nervously as I prepare myself.

"Before long, I realized that I was slowly leeching away your mother's life - I was feeding heavily on her emotions without even realizing it. It was...killing her, *I* was...I was killing her." He swallows back tears, and I begin to feel a small amount of regret. "I told her, and we came up with a way to preserve her life. I would...I would cheat on her, and feed on the emotions of my...my consorts..." He shakes his head bitterly. "I hated it...it always felt terrible...but I kept doing it, to keep your mother safe."

He pauses, and Nightwing speaks up, surprisingly. "But it didn't work...did it?" Dad solemnly shakes his head, and Nightwing turns to me with a hefty sigh. "Peter...there were two reasons I burned down that village. The first is that they were preparing to kill me. The second...was your mother."

"What? I...I don't understand..."

"Her Spectrum was blank," she explains. "There was nothing. She was a shell - she had almost no emotion left, and what was left was rudimentary, at best. And when I saw that, I...I knew she had to die, because usually, when there's a blank Spectrum, it means that the person is a puppet - being used by some greater force. And when they're in a city or village...that entire village is likely to become puppets.

"These puppets are known as ghouls - and they would have spread, and when humans found them, and killed them...they would probably assume that I made them, and kill me." She sighs. "So, I took control of her for a little while, and forced her to walk into the center of the city, so when I burned it, she would die."

"Wait...what? How did you see her Spectrum? She was never in the village..."

She blushes lightly. "Because...I had been watching you. I saw your Spectrum, and how intelligent you were, and...I decided that it was time for me to enter a human city, and live there, peacefully. And you would be my slave.

"I just...I couldn't let you know about why I killed your mother, in case...in case you were already on your way to being a ghoul, and it would have alerted whoever may have been controlling you. But once I learned that you're part demon...well, demons can't become ghouls."

I slump in my chair, feeling completely slammed by everything I'm hearing. "Dad...is that...is that true?"

"You don't trust me?" Nightwing asks, affronted.

"I do," I protest. "I just...trust my dad more."

He smiles at me, with a hint of sadness. "I'm glad that hasn't changed. And yes, that's the truth. I discovered that I was still sapping your mother's life force - it had been mitigated, but it was still happening. And she knew it the whole time - she didn't want to leave. She wanted you to stay there, and get the best education and life you could get. I tried to send her away, but she wouldn't go.

"Finally, she couldn't protest anymore. There was nothing left of her that could. So I sent her away before she could die - before she suffered more." He sighs heavily, slumping in his chair as he wipes his eyes. I hadn't even noticed that he'd started crying. "If I had known there was a dragon there...I never would have..." He chokes back a sob, and I immediately go to his side and embrace him.

"Dad..." I hold him tight. "I'm sorry I blamed you. I love you, dad..."

He returns the embrace, and after a moment, we release each other. I smile at him, and turn with a scowl as Demetra releases a loud groan.

"We get it, happy family stuff - but we're here for a reason!"

"Demetra!" Nightwing hisses. "Don't speak like that - he's a demon! Dragons fear demons, understand!?"

"Yeah, but I bet demons fear the Void."

"Excuse me?" My father demands, sitting up straight. I sigh as I return to my seat. I have to admit...Demetra is right. We came here for a reason. But she didn't have to be rude. "Is that a threat!?"

"No," I immediately assure him. "She doesn't mean death. She means...the Void. With a capital V." His posture relaxes slightly, and he shakes his head at me.

"How do you know about that?" He demands. He sits up straight again, and I jump as he slams his fist on the desk. "Dammit, Peter, if this is your idea of a joke..."

"It's not a joke," Nightwing announces. "I was there. I saw it. And I watched Peter control it."

My dad leans back in his chair with a sigh, and shakes his head as he reaches underneath his desk. "No - you must be mistaken..." I hear keys turn, and a cupboard open, before he pulls out a strange device. It looks...familiar...

"Is that a rotary phone?" Demetra asks, incredulously. Oh, yeah, that's what I know it from - wait, what!?

"Isn't that ancient Elven technology?" I ask, confused.

"The Elves let some of us have it," he explains, reading through a piece of paper before nodding and entering a few numbers. "It's a direct line to Hell..."

"Oh," is all I can respond with. He holds the phone to his ear and waits, and after a little while, he starts to pretty much shout into the phone.

"Hey, Mantorok! It's Simon - how you doin'?" A pause. "Aw, yeah, I'm loving the human life - hey, how's the wife and kids?" Another pause, and then some laughter. "Hah, yeah - hey, those three still giving you trouble? What's their names, uh...Chattur'gha, Xel'lotath, and Ulyaoth?" Another pause, and a light chuckle. "Alright...well, next time they're fucking about, remind them how upset the boss man gets, alright?" Another pause, and a throat-clearing cough.

"Well, look, I'm not just making a social call - I've got some intel here. My son -" a pause. "Yeah, he's doing okay, but his mother...we couldn't stop the siphon. She ended up...passing. No, no-it's fine. But...look, this is really important, okay?

"First, he knows that he's part demon now, and second...he said that he saw the Void on the surface. That's...still sealed away, right?" He pauses for a while, playing with the wire between the phone and the receiver as he nods, occasionally releasing an "uh-huh" or "mm-hm". I shift in my chair nervously. After a little while, his expression turns serious. "Oh...oh. Well...that's good to know. Thank you...oh, you too, Mantorok. Alright, have a good one - and give the missus my regards!" He puts the phone down, and sighs as he looks between us.

"The Void was on Earth." I can't help but be disappointed - I was hoping that we were mistaken. "But only some of it - the chamber was re-sealed before it all escaped. Demonic squads specialized in containment are getting them back now. So...there's no need to worry."

"How was the seal broken in the first place? I've heard that demonic seals are nearly impossible to thwart," Nightwing points out.

"There was an insurgency," he explains. "It's been shut down, but...they damaged the seal enough to let some of the Void out." He smiles at us. "Anyway, you don't need to worry about the Void anymore - the demons can handle it. Although...if, by some stroke of misfortune, they cannot...we'll talk about what to do next." He stands, and circles his desk as he approaches the door. "Now, then - it's getting late. Let's get you into a room - and it looks like you need oil for your arm."

Demetra releases an excited gasp. "Yes, please!"

"Before anything - I have a question..." Nightwing clears her throat. "Was that THE Mantorok?"

"Oh, no - it's his grandson. THE Mantorok is too old to even know how to use a telephone." Nightwing nods, and she seems a bit disappointed. I make a point to ask her about that later.

"Alright - follow me. But...Peter, could you stay here for a moment?"

I blink in surprise, and sit back down with a frown. "Uh...yeah, sure." Nightwing and Demetra exchange a glance, but decide to trust my father, and say goodbye before leaving. I can't help but watch their butts as they walk away. Unfortunately, the closing door cuts off the view.

-------- Forty five Minutes Later...

"Sorry I kept you waiting so long," my father announces. I jump as he enters the room - I had been totally zoned out. I had given up on finding something to read, everything here is tax law and estate law and whatever law.

"So, why'd you want me to wait?"

He sighs, firmly grasping my shoulders. "I'd like to bring you to your mother's grave."

I blink, and nod before wordlessly accompanying him through the halls of the city's central government building. We end up at a garden that I have many memories of.

It looks the same as when I would come here with her at night. The large cherry blossom tree stands proudly in the center of the circular garden, its roots crawling throughout the grass and the freshly fallen leaves. The light of the full moon illuminates the petals of the tree, and the small, clear pond that sits by the tree shines brilliantly as light dances along its surface, scattered by the petals resting delicately on its tranquil surface. Occasionally, the water is disturbed by the mouth of a fish breaking the surface to nip at plant matter and other detritus. Well kept reeds sway gently in the summer breeze by the edge of the pond, and crickets sing their dulcet tones.

Just in front of the trunk of the tree, beneath the shade of the foliage, lies a single, beautiful stone that shines with the light of the moon. I look to my father, and he nods as I approach, my knees week and my eyes watering.

I sit down on the edge of the stone - the same place I would sit as my mother would tend to the flowers, read her books, and even file her taxes - jointly with my father, of course. She did everything here - sometimes, she would paint, and on clear nights, she would take the telescope out with her and gaze at the stars. When I was younger, we would name the constellations and planets together, especially when I took basic astrology in school...

I look to the night sky, swallowing as I see the brilliant shining of thousands of stars - the leftover light from their life cycle, light that has taken years to reach us. I recognize the constellation of Junda immediately - the vibrant North Star is her eyes, and the gaseous plane of star dust is the hair she used to create the universe...or at least, so says mythology.

"Hey mom," I whisper to myself, my lips quivering as I run my hand through the grass. "The stars are really pretty tonight...I don't think I've ever seen Junda's hair so clearly...she's your favorite, right?" A tear falls down the bridge of my nose, and I press my face into my hands as I cry silently. I feel my father's hand on my shoulder, and I feel like a small child again. Above my mother's grave, I feel...lost, and confused. And I'm scared.

After a few moments of silent tears, my crying slows, and my body shudders with the occasional hiccup. "I love you mom," I whisper. "Goodbye..." I reach into my pocket, and pull out the cameo of her and myself that I've carried every day since I left my home with Nightwing. It has a few scrapes and dings on it from all the hiking I've done, but besides that, it's okay.

I open the locket, and hang it from a low branch by its chain. It's the same branch I would lean against when I was small enough for it to support my weight.

"Goodbye," I repeat.

"I'll let you be alone for a little while," my dad whispers to me before leaving the garden. I hear the door gently close behind him.

And then I hear, and feel, a pair of leathery wings carrying a dragoness down to the grass, her feet softly crunching on the grass as she stands behind me. She slowly approaches, and stops when she's next to me.

"This is a beautiful garden," she announces, softly. I nod, and she steps forward to the stone. She mutters a few words under her breath, and then snaps her fingers. Almost immediately, a crystal bud grows from the earth, and blooms into a glittering crystallized cherry blossom, its leaves gently swaying in the breeze.

Nightwing falters from the use of magic, and I quickly move to support her. She leans against me, and we sit on the grass, staring silently at the crystalline flower that marks my mother's final resting place. I wrap an arm around her, and she grabs my hand.

"Thank you," I whisper to the dragoness. "It's beautiful..."

"It's the least I could do," she responds with a sigh. "Unlike this garden, that flower will last forever...as will the memory of your mother." She gives me a quick peck on the cheek, and gently squeezes my hand before standing. "I will see you at the room. Take as long as you need, Peter." With that, she uses her wings to leap into the window she came from, and disappears into the shadows of the moonlit halls. I doubt she'll get caught.

I take a deep breath before standing and turning to leave. My father opens the door for me, and nods as he puts an arm around me and we walk through the halls, leaving behind my mother and her flowers.