Four days had passed since Banning had watched Myanna walk away. Four days since she’d taken that call from the prison and he’d heard the fear in the guard’s voice. Four days since she’d promised to return…and hadn’t.
He had tried to warn her. Had pushed so much of his magic into their growing mating bond, calling out to her, begging that she not go, pleading for her to stay, that when the enchantment rebounded, both man and Dragon King were rendered unconscious until well into the early morning hours of the next day.
Seven bells and she still wasn’t there. Something was wrong. Something had happened. Myanna said she was coming back and Banning just knew she wouldn’t leave him high and dry without an explanation. Had every confidence that his mate would have at the very least told him she was through with him and would not be returning.
Every excruciating minute that passed, every agonizing tick of the clock, pushed the Guardsman closer toward madness. No matter what he did, no matter how many times he tried to calm himself and focus, it became impossible to shake the feeling that Myanna was in trouble.
Glancing across the courtyard, the headline of the newspaper an elderly gentleman was reading struck fear in the Guardsman’s heart.
FOUR DAY STANDOFF WITH INMATES STILL AT A STALEMATE.
A photo of Myanna, the one from the ID she always wore around her neck when she came to visit during her lunch hour, along with five men identified as guards and medical personnel, were front and center. Abject horror combined with hot, fiery rage, burned through every cell in Banning’s body like lava bubbling and churning deep within the earth, threatening to explode and spew its devastation on everything in its path. Calling to the Heavens, to the Goddess of All, to the Universe, to every deity he knew of, the Guardsman begged and pleaded, offering his own life in exchange for Myanna’s.
Then it happened. A flash of light. The scent of pine. The brush of thick, soft fur rubbed the inside of his mind. Then the low rumble of a voice he recognized. The bear. Beau.
“Dragon? What the…”
“Come now!”
“What? I…”
“Shut up and listen,” Banning demanded. “My mate is in trouble. Come now.”
“I’m on my way.”
Moments seemed like hours as he waited for the Alpha grizzly to arrive. Panic welled up inside the dragon. Thick and noxious fumes of dread, reminiscent of the kerosene fumes from the lantern his mother used to light, making the air in his lungs sink like rocks to the bottom of the ocean.
Gasping to breathe, he called out to Myanna, fighting the blind rage pushing both man and beast to certain destruction. Over and over he called to her, screaming her name, begging for a response, only to be smacked in the face by the echoes of his own magic.
His vision narrowed, darkening around the edges, his perspective growing smaller and smaller with each strangled breath he took. His lungs on fire, his heart beating out of control, Banning reached for the glorious glow illuminating his soul. Holding tight to the bond he shared with Myanna, his consciousness swirling out of control from his loss of oxygen, the Guardsman bellowed, “Myanna, mo maité, mo ghrá, mo chroí agus anam, please be…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa there, Hoss, no one’s dying on my watch. Not tonight.” Beau’s deep southern drawl had an undertone of steel. The Alpha grizzly was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, of that the hyperventilating Guardsman had no doubt.
“Do not worry about me, mo cara,” he slurred, coughing and sputtering as he begged, “Save Myanna…s-save my m-mate.”
“Shut up and let us do what we came to do,” Beau growled. “We’ll be savin’ both of you and then you and I be havin’ a talk about your willingness to die, old man.”
The impenetrable cloak of darkness descended. Unable to speak, all feeling gone from his extremities, the Guardsman prepared for death. His heart, once vibrant and alive, renewed by Myanna’s love, beat in slow, agonizing gurgles, fighting to push even a drop of his life’s essence through his body in a sad attempt to prolong a life already doomed to expire.
Banning floated in the abyss, failure his constant companion. Letting go, resolved to draw his last breath no matter what the obstinate bear demanded, the Guardsman whispered his final goodbye to the Universe, praying She would deliver it to Myanna.
Waiting for sweet death, welcoming the escape from a wasted life and the loss of the true mate of his heart after just finding her, Banning drew his last excruciating breath. Shuddering as he exhaled, the icy fingers of death tripped down his spine. Its gnarled and spindly tentacles crept up his neck and crawled across his chest before slithering down his arms, seeking to squeeze…to drain, the last dredges of life from his failing, withering cells.
Dreaming of his mate, floating on a cloud of the love he knew would always be with him, a warmth like the flickering embers of a campfire tickled Banning’s toes. Winding its way up his legs, swallowing the black vines of death, the flames grew, igniting the dragon fire within him.
Older than time, more ancient than the dragons themselves, he recognized the powerful mysticism responsible for the creation of everything. With each second that passed, the darkness receded and the pain dissipated. Powerful, steady, continuous pulses of power rocked his body, filled his soul, shocked his heart into a steady rhythm as the reverent whispers of not only Beau, but several of his kin, permeated Banning’s very being, the words etching themselves upon his soul.
Oh, Great Spirit, whose voice we hear in the winds
and whose breath gives us life, hear our plea. We are small.
We are weak. We thirst for your strength and wisdom.
I call to the East, where the Father ascends
to all Mother Earth where life begins.
I fly, as the dragon flies, through the cedars,
pines, willows, and birch as animals
below me wander and search.
I call to the South, to the land down below.
The Great Bear stands silent, as man strings his bow
to hunt food and fur for his kin before snow.
A life will end so others will grow.
I call to the North, that Yansa once knew.
I follow their path till it disappears from view.
Once vast in number, there stand but a few.
I hear only ghost thunder of millions of hooves.
I call to the West, to the ends of the lands,
to not only the Bear and the Dragon ...
but all who receive the gift of two natures…all bands and Clans.
Unite for the strength. Teach the young, respect the old, and demand that we are all children of the universe, sons and daughters of the Universe who were the brand.
Learn your tongue. Speak the truth. Love your kin. Let our Unity stand.
My name is Freedom...I roam this land and soar through this sky.
I call to the Four Sacred Winds of gods and goddesses. Return this dragon to his mate that their love may freely fly.
Somewhere deep in his psyche, at the very center of his being, a rumble, low and ominous like the warning growl of a mother bear protecting her cubs, resonated. The words of the Ancient prayer wound through his body, their continuous loops and swirls knitting the fibers of his existence back together, one tenuous stitch at a time.
In the span of a single heartbeat, the deep hum burst into a rampaging cacophony of blinding light and tempestuous explosions within every cell of the Guardsman’s being. Racked with violent convulsions, he prayed for death, for any escape from the inhumane torture of the bears and their gods.
Tendons stretched. Muscles tore. The very tether of Banning’s existence pulled tight, stretching to its absolute limits. Then, like a bolt of lightning from Zeus’ trident, Fate slashed the thread of his existence, releasing every atom of both man and dragon’s existence into the ether with a blast of almighty Universal magic.
Snapping back as if it were the rubber band of an enormous slingshot, the magnanimous force ignited the ancient magic of the Dragon King, Gerallt. Immediately taking control, harnessing the nearly omnipotent godly enchantment with a single swipe of his wings, the winged-warrior exploded through the dark, dank veil of the old crone’s curse, shattering its evil taint to the four winds. Bursting forth with a victorious roar, his lunar white scales glistening in the glow of the nearly full moon, the dragon took to the skies with a single push of his tremendous wings.
Looking down at the Alpha, the Healer, the First Beta, and the Guard of the Nantonka Bear Sloth, he finally knew what friendship outside the comforts of his own kin felt like. Not only were they among the most courageous and fearless, these bears in particular possessed the healing power of the Great Spirit and Mother Earth.
“Many thanks to you and yours, Beau Nantonka. I owe you a debt far greater than I can pay in a thousand lifetimes, but I shall be at your side, shall you ever have need of me,” Banning called to his new friend, acknowledging the feel of the wind against his scales and the freedom that had been so long out of his reach a blessing, but knowing he would have to celebrate later, for now he needed to save Myanna.
“Not so fast, Dragon.” Beau’s baritone rasp, lower in tone, its gravelly quality more pronounced. “You can’t be rid of me that easily. Your enemies are my enemies and I just happen to be spoiling for a fight.”
Another glance at the ground had the Guardsman snorting a laugh through his massive snout as he took in the sight of an absolutely monstrous grizzly racing through the forest separating the park from the back roads that led to the prison. Banning was amazed at how fast the thousand-pound bear could run, nearly keeping pace with the shadow of his dragon as it skimmed across the landscape.
“As my old mum used to say, the more the merrier.”
“Oh yeah, Banning, my man. There’s gonna be a hot time in the old prison tonight.”