Stone Dragon (The First Realm) by Testamark Klay

Author:Testamark, Klay [Testamark, Klay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Publisher: Klay Testamark
Published: 2013-08-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Middlegame

I was back in the cave. Cruix was there. We played chess on a stone table. I was steadily running out of pieces.

“Haven’t you wondered why I have not spoken?” he asked. “Surely you must have noticed my silence these past few weeks.”

“I have been curious, yes.”

The dragon smiled with his eyes. He moved another piece. His horns and ventral scales were golden in the light.

“I am content to wait. I have been stuck in a waking dream for centuries, so even a passive existence feels liberating. Oh yes, I remember being stone. Rocks can think, although not quickly.”

I frowned at the board. He had the white pieces and I had the black, but the table wasn’t your regular chessboard. His side was completely white, mine was completely black, and pieces could only move on squares of the same color. The pawns were an exception: They could move on any color and extend the player’s territory with every forward push.

Things were grim for my side. I’d lost my knights, my bishops, even my queen. My king was looking nervous, for a chess piece.

“Frankly, I still don’t have much control. Your subconscious has been fighting me every step of the way. Every neuron is a battleground, every synapse a skirmish. I always win, of course, but it’s slow.”

He moved another piece and I looked around. The cavern was bright thanks to all the candles. Severed hands lay everywhere, palms down, and the candles had been set in holes on the back of each hand.

“I could ask you to surrender. Your consciousness would merge with mine and we would become one.” He moved another piece. “But I see no profit there, and I don’t believe you’d agree to it either.”

“You know me well,” I said.

“I’ve been going through your memories. For example, do you recall how your father smelled?”

My father used to carry me on his shoulders. For a second I remembered the smell of his hair—and it was gone.

“Or what your mother sang to you when you were little?”

A woman, singing softly to herself and to her baby. The song was melancholy sweet. Father must have been gone by then, and Mother would have known she would shortly follow. Elves might not be too fertile, but they stay viable until the end. It rarely happens, but sometimes a couple will have a baby before they die.

A long childhood is one thing. A long childhood without parents is another. I didn’t have many memories of them. This one was almost real enough to—

“But enough of that. How about your first mango?”

Through a mouthful of sweet I said, “You son of a bitch.”

He laughed. “You mammals indulge your offspring, don’t you? Me, I never knew my sire, and good thing too.”

“He was probably your grandfather as well, you misbegotten son of a snake.”

The dragon hissed and the candles wavered. “I shall savor the moment your mind dies. I shall keep the memory, even as I do away with every iota of your being.

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