Over and over, he replayed every detail of his plan, nearly going out of his mind at the snail’s pace of the ticking clock in his head. The last three days felt like a lifetime and the hours leading up to nightfall an eternity. Waiting for the earth to eclipse the moon and trigger the magic that would change him from a mere statue to a living, breathing human relentlessly tugged at the raveling threads of Banning’s diminishing sanity.
Ready to enact his plan, needing to save the beautiful woman’s mother, needing to be her knight in shining armor, the Guardsman once again reviewed how he would prevail where modern medicine had failed. He had a renewed purpose. Meaning had blessedly returned to his sad, lonely life. The dragon finally understood the true objective of his existence…to preserve life, to protect any and all that he could.
Memories, like a kaleidoscope, whirled through Banning’s thoughts. He saw his father sitting on the banks of the cool, clear water of the river behind their house. He watched the man he looked up to, his very own hero, as the water flowed in front of them, splashing on the rocks, flowing through the trees, dragging the hook at the end of the pole in his hand along with it.
His voice, low and commanding, spoke to the very heart and soul of his only son, the heir to the throne of their Clan, as he instructed the young dragon in the ways of their kin.
“Your battles will be many. You will see your brethren fall. At times, it will feel as if the Universe is asking too much of you.” Ailbe propped his fishing pole into the soft ground and turned toward his son. “The day will come, Banning, my boy, much sooner than you realize, when you will take up your blade and defend not only our kin, but every other of the Universe’s creations. We were created in Her image, named the Mighty Winged Warriors, and tasked with the preservation of all, especially the humans, for they have not the magic nor the abilities we possess.”
“But, Athair, I want to fight evil.” The young dragon jumped to his feet. “Leave the protection of others to those not willing to give their lives in battle.”
Shaking his head, Ailbe sighed, “Son, have you heard nothing?” The Dragon King stood, a seven-foot giant to his young son, and picking up the child, looked directly into his soul. “Protection is our primary focus. Without it, evil will overrun the lands, taint what is bright and beautiful, destroy the inherit good in all of God’s creatures and ultimately, annihilate the very Earth that has been given to us with all the love of our one true parent.”
“I see,” Banning whispered, nodding to his father. “To protect and defend life is more important than destroying evil, yes?”
Smiling brightly, his father emphatically agreed, “Yes, our Ancestors have taught us that every action, be it right or be it wrong, has an opposite and equal reaction. It is the ying and yang of life. Light cannot exist without darkness. Good would fail to be recognized without its evil counterpart. Without our females, we males, as well as all living beings, would become extinct. Do you understand, my son?”
“Yes,” Banning acknowledged, pushing against his father’s chest to be let down. Jumping up and down the moment his feet touched the ground, the young dragon beamed, “It is our purpose as dragons to feed the light of the world, defend its very existence, and if during that time we are forced into battle, then will be the time to defeat the forces of darkness.”
“Precisely, my brilliant son.” His father’s smile was a beacon of hope and love. “You will be a great leader of our people, Banning. A true inspiration for all.”
“If I had only remembered your words, Father. If only I had taken heed of your teachings.” The Guardsman sighed.
Holding his breath as his lips tingled and his muscles shuddered, the Guardsman’s eyes turned upward just in time to see the spectacular blue and green sphere creep across the moon’s surface, obscuring its awesome glow. Magic popped and cracked in the air around him, the witch’s mysticism springing to life. Gradually, inch by wretched inch, the bronze bled away, revealing the vibrant Guardsman within.
With each painstaking second his anticipation grew, his heart beat faster, and his dragon stretched his mighty wings. A reddish hue fell over the land, Goddess Helene’s silver orb was hidden behind the Earth, the Blood Moon hung low in the sky, and Banning was once again human.
Stretching his stiff muscles, filling his lungs with fresh, clean air, and bathing his senses in the smells of his surroundings, Banning thanked the Universe for the gift he’d been given. Looking at his surroundings, the Guardsman grinned, thankful the park closed at nine and the guards sat in their cubicles at the gates.
“I can only imagine their faces if they saw what I really was,” the dragon chuckled, the emotion and the action feeling foreign after nearly two-hundred years of self-loathing and recrimination.
He thought of the few occasions he’d been caught returning to his perch before the dawn, dread dogging his every step at the prospect of another long wait for a single night of freedom. Smiling at a fifty-year-old memory, the time he’d been accused of stealing the very statue he was about to become, Banning shrugged. He would never forget the look of shock on the constable’s face when he returned with an entire armed force of police to find the city’s beloved dragon in place, guarding their fountain with the handcuffs from ‘the thief’s’ wrists laying on the concrete.
“I guess it hasn’t been all bad.”
The thought of calling forth his dragon and taking to the skies crossed his mind more than once, but was quickly rejected every time. “I must conserve all my strength and magic for her mother.”
Following the trail of the young woman’s scent, the voice of his dragon chanting Mate through the connection they shared, Banning refused to acknowledge what he knew in his heart and soul to be true.
“I cannot…I will not let myself be distracted by flights of fancy. She is a truly good person who, through no fault of her own, is about to lose her last living relative.” He spoke aloud as he dashed into a back alley, keeping to the shadows as he voiced his thoughts. “It is just as Father said. Her light is being extinguished by the darkness and it’s my job, nay, my duty, to do everything in my power to help her.”
“Mate,” the dragon repeated.
“That is not important, old friend. I gave up on that dream long ago.”
Passing the large plate-glass window of a men’s haberdashery, the sight of Banning’s reflection caused him to stop midstride. Turning toward the image, he couldn’t help but stare. Having not seen his own face but in the clear water of a river three days before being cursed, the Guardsman was shocked to see that exact same man staring back at him. It had never occurred to him that he would not age, that he was completely frozen in time, even still wearing the garments and cloak he’d worn on that fateful day all those years ago.
Looking farther into the shop, he saw mannequins dressed in the fashion of the day and snickered at the long pants, pearly white buttons, and silk wrapped around their necks. “How do they function in such things?” Shaking his head, he added, “It never ceases to amaze me what humans put themselves through to impress and attract a mate.”
Turning to leave, the Guardsman had barely made it a step before confusion coupled with a healthy dose of doubt stopped his forward motion. “What will she think of me, dressed as I am? Will she wonder of my sanity? Will she scream in fright?” His steps sped up, the need to complete his mission before sunrise powering his quickening stride as he added, “With any luck, if she should wake, I will use magic to make her think I am but a dream.”
Again, his dragon growled, this time with more force. “Mate.”
“Yes, I know,” Banning grumbled as he resumed his trek. “But our mission is not to impress or woe her, only to save her mother. Our fate was sealed centuries ago, old friend. We must give our mate what she needs most and pray that over time she finds a man worthy of her.”
“Mate,” the dragon’s rumble was ominous as he blew smoke from his snout and pushed his heavy body against the confines of Banning’s mind.
Picking up the pace, the scent of the woman the Universe had made for him growing stronger with every step, the Guardsman turned down a dark alley, beginning to jog as he admitted to himself with a whisper, “I would give every coin that has ever been thrown into my fountain for just one touch of her silken skin or to hear my name upon her lips.”
But wishes and happily-ever-afters are for dreamers, not dragons made of bronze…