Marriage, Death, and Birth

Zane Joly

     Kaalik, he was called. People had come up with many epithets for him over the years, but none of them stuck. You could tell a dragon was truly terrifying when everyone knew their name, but no one could think of a fitting title. His name was enough of a description.

Oana, she was called. She did have titles. The Unseelie Queen, She Who Dances In Darkness, the Lady of Shadows, the Warden of Thorns, and many others that did not translate well into most mortal languages. But she had made most of her titles up herself.

Theirs is not what one could call a traditional love story. Or perhaps not what one could call any kind of love story. But it was undeniably a story.

***

The charred ruins of the ancient city of Delrotali were wedged between mountains. It was a hard place to access for those who were land-bound. The city had once had bridges and roads to make the journey easier, but they had all long since collapsed. All that was left were the crumbled stone remains and incomplete skeletons of colossal structures.

It was Kaalik’s lair, and he quite liked it. The dragon was quite picky about his lairs. This one was perfect; it was hard to access, it was exposed to the sky, it was large, nothing was flammable, it wasn’t too cliche, and Kaalik found its grim beauty quite soothing. And there was a subtle boast to it. Anyone looking around could see that the city was old, very old. And yet it had in fact existed for less time than the wyrm himself. Not much less time, but still.

Inside the open ruins of what used to be a library, the beast lay. Kaalik’s scales absorbed the light like they were made of night itself, and his reptilian eyes blazed red. A powerful set of horns rose up from his head, marked with scratches and scars. He was about sixty feet long, not counting the sharp tail that was an additional thirty feet. As was customary, a shiny hoard lay beneath him. Kaalik preferred silver to gold, so it was with silver his hoard glittered. While not his favorite treasure, he also had a taste for written knowledge, and scrolls and books sized for dragon proportions and made of fireproof paper were neatly arranged behind the rest of his hoard.

Kaalik could smell something approaching. Something that was far beyond any lesser beast or hero that came for his treasure. He lifted himself up and readied his fire. Dark mist poured in from around the ruins, thickening and coalescing into a single point a dozen or so feet in front of him. The mist cleared, revealing a woman.

She was roughly the shape of a human, but Kaalik did not for one moment mistake her for one. Her skin was a shadowy pale color like moonlight, and she wore a cloak of black feathers over worn-out rags that a beggar might have. One of her eyes shone a brilliant blue, and the other one a deep violet. Her hair was wild and black, and halfway down her back it transformed into a mess of thorny branches and vines. Her fingers ended in claws, and a sharp crown of frozen blood encircled her head. She was taller than most human women, around six feet. But her appearance was not what made Kaalik believe her inhuman. It was the power that rolled off her. A wild, dangerous, and dark magic that no human could hold within them. She was a fae, and a powerful one too. A queen. She deserved his respect as a guest, even if she had arrived unannounced.

The wyrm dipped his horned head slightly in greeting. “Your majesty,” he said, in a voice like flowing lava .“Before we discuss the reason for your visit, shall I come down to your size?”

“If you wish to,” the fae responded. Her voice was beautiful, but sharp.

The magic of dragons was a mysterious and elemental one, not even fully comprehended by themselves. The elders of their kind knew how to twist it to suit their more subtle needs. The ebony scales of Kaalik rippled and his form contracted, shrinking down and shifting. After a few moments, a man stood before the fae queen. His skin was dark, and his eyes were still reptilian and bright crimson. He was dressed in robes that absorbed light in the same unnatural way his scales had. Horns protruded from his head, and he stood over six feet tall even without them.

“I am Kaalik,” he said, “as I’m sure you know. I presume you to be Queen Oana of the Unseelie Court?”

“Indeed I am.”

“I don’t keep track of mortal politics, but I do try to keep a general awareness of important matters among immortals,” the dragon said, “And I have heard stories about you.”

“Good things, I hope?” Kaalik could tell from Oana’s grin that she was entirely aware of what the stories about her were like. That they all said to fall in the path of Queen Oana was to court death. That she played games with mortals and other fae alike, throwing pieces away when they bored her. That even for the mischievous and dangerous Unseelie Court, she was a paragon of chaos.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, your majesty?” Kaalik asked.

“There’s no need to refer to me with such a title,” Oana replied, “And I’ll get straight to the point. There’s an old Unseelie law that says that I must marry by my hundredth winter solstice as queen, which is tomorrow. It seems rather stupid, and I have no desire to marry, but there you have it. Even I cannot reverse such a law.”

“Quite the dilemma.” Kaalik’s voice conveyed neither sincerity nor sarcasm.

“Well,” Oana continued, “If I must marry, then it must be to someone worthy. And so, Kaalik, I have come to offer my hand in marriage.” She extended a clawed hand toward Kaalik.

The dragon looked at the hand, then up at Oana. She only remained smiling. “The fae are known for their jokes,” Kaalik said, “But I’m afraid I don’t share your kind’s sense of humor.”

“I am being sincere. This is not just some jest; I swear it upon my crown.”

“Why, then? Even if you were set on having a dragon for a partner, why me? Dreigmora The Gray seems like she’d get along with you far better. She’s always had an appetite for chaos, much like yourself. If you need a male partner to create an heir, I have little interest in such things.”

“Oh no, I don’t need to produce an heir,” Oana said, “And I did consider Dreigmora. I like her, and we’ve had fun together in the past. But her similarity to me is just the problem. I won’t have a partner with a taste for mischief like myself. It’s why I won’t take any other Unseelie to be my partner, as is traditional. Whoever shall rule beside me needs to be different, to be my equal and opposite, but they also need to be someone who won’t bore me. If I were to make  Dreigmora my queen, the other fae would be shocked and confused, but after giving it a thought, they’d reason that it makes sense in a way. But you…”

“It would be utterly bizarre to marry a dragon of such solemnity and power as myself,” said Kaalik. “If you at least intended to create an heir, that would make more sense, although that is more the way of the Seelie Court than yours. But if you are merely marrying me for the fun of it, you appear a twisted madwoman who sees only power.”

“Exactly!” Oana cried, heterochromatic eyes wide and wild. “You’re perfect!”

“Ah. Well, I suppose I never had much hope of understanding the motives of a fae. Still, I must ask why I would be interested in such a partnership.”

“Oh come now.” Black smoke formed around Oana and quickly dispersed. Her inhuman features were gone, and she was in the form of an attractive young woman wearing a rather revealing black dress. “I thought dragons were supposed to like beautiful young maidens.”

Kaalik was thoroughly unimpressed. “Firstly, the stereotype of kidnapping young women was spread mostly by one dragon, Abocendrias. I killed and ate him. Secondly, while I do not and will never find you or any other being sexually or romantically attractive, this form of yours is less aesthetically pleasing than your other. Thirdly, you are hardly a beautiful young maiden. Well, you are beautiful, but so is a thunderstorm and I have never felt the urge to marry one. And while you may be young compared to me, you are still centuries old. As for being a maiden… well I did say that I had heard the stories about you. I’ve also heard the stories about your children. I even met one of your grandchildren once, before I roasted him to ashes.”

“Well aren’t you a charmer,” Oana muttered, shifting back to her original form. “I came equipped with other enticements. You could be a king.”

“What does kingship matter to me?” the dragon asked, faintly amused, “I could kill the rulers of any kingdom, declare myself its king, and incinerate all who would oppose me.”

“You would be king of the Unseelie Court, not some common mortal nation. You would have the loyalty of all who fear and serve me outside of my clan. You have lived for a long time, surely the novelty of such an experience intrigues you?”

Kaalik paused. That argument at least was worth considering. “Perhaps, but that is still not sufficient incentive. Unless you have something else to offer, we are done.”

“Oh, but I do,” said the fae queen with glee. “I have a crown of silver, embedded with onyx stones. I have a silver throne, delicately and expertly crafted, with thirteen rubies coaxed from the deepest earth embedded in it. A throne that currently sits empty.”

That got Kaalik’s attention. A dark forked tongue hissed out between his lips, as if he could already taste the jewels in the air. Yet still, he was not so easily convinced. “I have treasures enough”. The dragon gestured back at his glimmering hoard. “What makes you think you can bribe me?”

“‘Bribe’, ‘pay’, and ‘incentivize’ are all different words for the same thing,” said Queen Oana. “And yes, you have treasures. But I could get you new treasures. In a year, I could present you with more splendid things than you would ordinarily collect in a century. And you hardly have to do a thing.”

A dragon’s lust for treasure is one of their most primal drives. Different dragons have different tastes, but their love for things of value never fades, as many other joys of life do with such a long lifespan. And while merely being in the presence of treasure is soothing, acquiring a new item always sparks joy as if it is the first. An older dragon can learn to control this hunger, but it still remains within them.

“Why didn’t you make this argument before the ‘young maiden’ and ‘you could be king’ ones?” Kaalik asked.

Oana’s eyes glinted with mirth. “It’s tradition for fae to do things in threes and for the third attempt to succeed where the others failed, or vice versa. Do you not read any faery tales?”

The dragon mused over what the queen had said. He did like treasure, and being a king might be at least somewhat entertaining. But the last thing that tipped the balance was Oana herself. He found her wildness somewhat entertaining, at least more than most creatures he had known in his long life. Perhaps she was worth spending a little more time with, if for no reason other than morbid curiosity. “You make an enticing argument, I must admit,” said Kaalik, “But there are still a few things I wish to settle beforehand. I have heard faery tales, and I know that it is madness to go into a deal with a fae without establishing rules.”

“I’d be disappointed in you otherwise,” said Oana, “What terms do you wish to discuss, then?”

“Would we have to consummate the marriage?” Kaalik asked.

“No, no, nothing like that,” said the fae queen, “I have heirs enough. Of course, if you wanted to-”

“No,” said Kaalik, with force, “In the millennium in which I have lived, I have never mated nor felt the desire to.”

“I meant no offense,” said Oana, lifting her hands up. “To each their own. I may be of questionable sanity and even more questionable morals, but I believe in consensual love. All I need from you is an agreement to marriage, maybe a few theatrics, and for you to sit next to me and look marvelously intimidating. Anything else?”

“I do not wish to be trapped in this arrangement,” said Kaalik, “I am free to leave at any time. If necessary, I can keep the ceremonial position and title as king, but no other obligations.”

“Done. Though I do hope you won’t get so bored you feel the need to leave. Does that settle everything?”

“I believe so,” said the great wyrm. Were he a lesser creature or much younger he would have added many more rules to protect himself. But he was a powerful dragon, and if Oana attempted to trick him she would regret it dearly.

“Shall we return to my palace?” Oana asked, “Oh, I can’t wait to see the looks on the faces of all those snobby aristocrats. We should make a dramatic entrance. You know, I’ve never ridden a dragon before…”

Kaalik sighed and changed from his human form to his natural draconic one. He carefully plucked Oana up between two talons and deposited her on his back. He barely felt her weight on his scales.

The dragon’s wings spread wide and he leapt into the sky, the fae queen shrieking with glee on his back. Her claws grew a little longer so she could grip onto the edge of his scales to hang on.

The shadowy form of the dragon lifted out of the ruins and over the mountains before beginning to glide across the plains.

Kaalik moved swiftly, but the Unseelie castle was far away, and the directions that Oana gave him didn’t always make sense. But the wyrm was patient. As the sunlight faded, he did however recall that the deadline for the queen to marry was the winter solstice tomorrow.

“Are you sure that we shall arrive in time?” Kaalik asked, tilting his head back to observe the fae riding on his back.

“Yes, of course,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “We will arrive just before the end of the longest night of the year. We shall be cutting it thrillingly close.”

And so the dragon flew on through the night, a silhouette across a starry sky.

Oana directed him towards a deep forest. In the center of the woods was a massive clearing in a perfect circle, empty of trees or anything else. The dragon’s flaming red eyes could see a shimmer in the air that indicated something was hidden, but could not tell what it was. Oana snapped her fingers and suddenly the shimmering ceased and the castle came into view.

The Unseelie castle was a bizarre structure, halfway between palace and nest. Dark stone and wood melded together, and both branches and parapets extended from the lopsided central mass.

When Kaalik landed, the ground shook. The nearby fae fled in terror or cautiously watched from a distance. One Unseelie who appeared like a human with long gray moth wings slowly approached the wyrm. “What is it you want from us, oh great dragon?”

“Well that’s rather rude!” came Oana’s voice from the top of Kaalik. The faery who had spoken to Kaalik looked up in confusion and alarm as she flew down from the dragon’s back, dark mist flowing behind her. “Kaalik here greeted me as a guest when I came to his home, I should expect you to do the same for him. Instead, you immediately ask him the reason for his visit without so much as a hello. You should have more respect. He is your future king after all.”

The faery’s look of confusion deepened as he looked back and forth between Oana and Kaalik. “He’s… but… what?”

“I don’t have all night,” said Oana, “Go, gather my court, go! You’re all invited to the wedding, no need to reserve a seat ahead of time, no dress code. We only have a few minutes before sun-up.”

Kaalik looked back toward the eastern horizon and squinted. He could see the sky beginning to brighten as the day approached and the longest night of the year neared an end.

Fae swarmed out of the palace, frantically talking to each other. Most appeared mostly human, but with wings or horns or claws or some other strange feature making it clear that they were not. Kaalik noticed that a few seemed quite displeased to have been summoned so abruptly, but that these faeries made care that Oana wasn’t looking at them when expressing this displeasure. There were perhaps a hundred in total when all gathered.

“Silence,” said Oana pleasantly. Every fae immediately went dead quiet. The queen cleared her throat and turned to Kaalik. “Do you accept me as your bride and wish us to be wed?”

“I do,” answered the dragon.

“Then I hereby declare us married, and you to be the new king of the Unseelie.”

The Unseelie Court around them didn’t make a sound, and Kaalik wasn’t sure whether it was because Oana had ordered their silence or because they were all too stunned to form words. The entire situation seemed surreal even to him. Oana had wanted to shock her court, and she had certainly succeeded. The first glimmers of sunlight rose from the horizon. The longest night of the year was over, and Oana had just barely followed the ancient laws.

The Unseelie queen led Kaalik to a dramatic sealed gate of black stone at the front of the palace. The dragon didn’t think it had been there before. With a wave of her hand, it opened inward. The archway was too small for Kaalik to fit through, so he shifted to a narrower, more serpentine form, though still titanic in size. Oana walked into the palace and her new husband slithered after her.

The inside of the palace was dim, illuminated by some source Kaalik could not see. The pair proceeded along the long hallway until they came to the throne room, where two elegant seats rested side by side. One of the thrones rose up out of the floor and was made from twisting wood and black stone, like the rest of the palace. The other throne stood out more. It was made of elegantly crafted silver, and was designed to look like frozen flames, with ample amounts of claw and wing imagery as well. At the top of the backrest, thirteen identical rubies gleamed.

Kaalik shrank down to a human form as he approached the throne. Laying on it was a crown that looked like it was made from loosely woven thorny vines, also silver. Three onyx stones were set in the crown, dark and beautiful. The wyrm lifted the crown to rest on his head, and sat down on the throne. A deep growl of satisfaction emanated from him as he made himself comfortable. There was no padding on the silver, which would have been painful to a human but to Kaalik felt soothingly familiar to his hoard.

The queen took her place next to the king, and the two shared a smile.

***

And that was the tale of how the noble king and queen forged their union. You can see what I meant by not exactly a traditional love story now, can’t you? Since that day, they have been feared by all for their terrible power. Now perhaps another tale, a cautionary one, a lesson on becoming victim to the wrath of a dragon, a fae, or gods forbid, both.

***

It was tribute day, when people would come and offer gifts to the Unseelie rulers either to pay off debts or to gain favor. Oana enjoyed getting to make deals and terrify tribute givers, while Kaalik relished gaining new items for his hoard.

The wyrm was in his humanoid form, running clawed fingers over a chalice of gray glass with shimmering runes inscribed along the sides. It was a gift from a small gnome colony that Oana had blessed to be hidden from the sight of humans. “Run along now,” said the Unseelie queen, and the short, colorfully dressed gnomes turned and scampered off.

“Next!” cried Oana.

“Tulaja the human, of the Scarlet Plains,” A herald announced. Kaalik didn’t pay much attention as the figure walked into the throne room. He was still admiring the craftsmanship of the goblet when he detected a familiar smell. The dragon leaned his head back and inhaled deeply. He smelled the distinct combination of humanity, steel, gold, valor, and ancient powerful blood spilled, a scent that could never truly be washed off.

Kaalik lowered his head and analyzed the woman who had just walked in, presumably Tulaja. She wore fine leather armor and her eyebrows and ears glinted with gold piercings. A sword hung at her left side and a dagger at her right, and she held something tucked behind her back. Her dirty blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her visible hand was marked by many small scars. “Dragon slayer,” he growled.

Oana sat up straighter in her seat and her eyes glinted. Her taloned hand slowly raised, ready to kill the human with a flick of her fingers. The slayer seemed unconcerned. “There’s no need to worry, your majesties,” she said with a smile, “I have not come to slay the king.”

“Do not delude yourself by believing that you could,” Kaalik growled.

“I have come to offer tribute, like all the rest,” Tulaja said, “In the hopes of gaining your favor.” And she withdrew the item she had been holding behind her back. A cloak, made from hundreds of blue scales.

The queen of the Unseelie tilted her head. “Are those… dragon scales?” she asked, “Because if they are, that’s rather twisted. It’s like if I entered a human’s home and gave them a dress of human skin as a gift. Though, that does sound like something I’d do. Wait, did I do that?”

“Yes, it is dragon scales,” said Tulaja, “But, they are from a dragon of the Andelian dragon family, rivals of his majesty Kaalik here.”

After a pause, Kaalik said, “Your tribute is appreciated. May I see that cloak more closely?” The wyrm descended from the throne and took the offered cloak. He ran his fingers over the scales.

“It’s remarkably soft,” he mused, “Rather cloth-like. That requires very small dragon scales. You could find scales of such a size around the neck or parts of the underbelly, but they’re still hardened and uncomfortable in most adult dragons. You must have gotten these scales from a young dragon, which I can also see from the slight paleness of the coloration. But a mere hatchling wouldn’t have enough material for all of this. So it would have to be young, but not just hatched.”

Then Kaalik’s tone of voice shifted, darkening. “I imagine the dragon would be somewhere around three years of age. Long lived my kind may be, but we grow up relatively quickly. The little wyrm would have been walking, but not steadily enough to sprint. They would have only just barely begun to start flying. They wouldn’t have learned to breath fire yet, or to do anything more than blindly claw and bite. Less threatening than a common bear, and far less able to run away. What a noble kill, hunter.”

In a blur, he kicked one of Tulaja’s legs and the human fell to the floor with a cry. “I don’t think the little wyrm was advanced enough in language yet to beg for their life, but I’m sure that you could see it in their eyes,” said Kaalik, “I imagine, to cause as little damage to the body as possible, you slit their throat. Not an easy way to die.”

“Please,” said the dragon-slayer, “I didn’t know.”

Kaalik tilted his head. “You knew enough about the Andelian family to know that they were enemies of mine. That’s a rather subtle understanding of dragons if you ask me. You would have also known that Andelian dragons behave peacefully towards your kind. The parents of a young dragon, of any clan, will guard their child almost constantly, and flee with their brood at the first sign of danger. You probably had to wait and watch for at least a month before you were given an opening. A month during which you would have watched the parents teach their young to talk, feed them, speak to them. And you claim ignorance.”

Tulaja rose to her feet. Her hands neared her weapons, but she didn’t draw them yet, still trying to appeal to the king’s reason. “They were your enemies,” she said, “I killed one of your enemies.”

“You killed a child,” Kaalik growled in response, “Old enough to truly suffer as they died, yet not old enough to have done anything to deserve it. You robbed them of a life that would have lasted centuries. Dragon young may be valuable to your kind, but they are sacred to ours. A dragon will lay five eggs at most in their lifetime, each at least a hundred years apart from the others. I have never slaughtered the child of another dragon, and I have most certainly never defiled the body in such a way.” He held up the dragon scale cloak in one hand. “To my kind, this is a heresy, an atrocity. It does not matter if the parents of this dragon were my enemies.
“I had a younger brother once, you know. When he was five, he was killed and his scales were turned into a dress, his bones into jewelry. I have killed the slayers that have come to me, yes. But I had some respect for them. They had come to fight me, an adversary who could defend myself and who knew why they had come. And I have respect for the Andelian dragons who consider me a rival and a threat. But for your kind, all I feel is rage that you have been allowed to live this long.”

Tulaja made to grab for her weapons, but roots burst out of the ground and wrapped around her, pinning her in place. Oana spoke, “We find your tribute to be lacking in taste. But I am merciful and will make a deal with you. I will not kill you, if you tell me the name of every other dragon poacher you know, or anyone who hired you to kill young dragons, or anyone you sold the remains of the young dragons to. First and last name please, or a commonly used title or nickname.”

The roots tightened, and the sharp tip of one pressed against the dragon slayer’s throat. “I’ll tell you!” she frantically cried, “Raliton Merdos, Thenosia Sedie, Rass the Roughskin, Bekeren Tonswen, Kordeki Thratch, Zeitos Lorin, Horitch Beetlewell, and… Yestoran Beltasio. That’s it. Oh! And Corlis Themerhawk. That’s all of them that I know, I swear.”

“Thank you,” said the Unseelie queen pleasantly. The roots did not let Tulaja go. “By the way, there are two things you should know about dealing with the fae. First: Never offer us your name or let someone else offer your name. Second: Always pay attention to the wording when making deals. All I said was that I won’t kill you. It’s not my place to do so anyway. It would be more befitting for a dragon to do the honors.” She looked at Kaalik.

The wyrm tossed the scale cloak onto the roots around Tulaja. He took in a deep breath, and an orange light grew at the back of his throat. Flames burst forth, so bright they were more white than orange, consuming the slayer, the roots, and the cloak in fire. After a few seconds, it was all burned down to ash. Great black wings emerged from Kaalik’s back and snapped forward, creating a rush of air that dispersed the ash.

“Classless mongrel,” said Oana, wrinkling her nose in disdain at the spot where the dragon slayer had been, “Kaalik dear, some time in the next few days, remind me to track down all those people and curse them. I’ve got a rather creative and poetic one in mind. It involves nightmares and dying horribly and… well you’ll see.”

Kaalik went back to the throne and sat down again. The fae at the edges of the throne room were practically pressing themselves against the walls to not be noticed. “Next tribute,” called the queen.

***

A bit of a grim story, no? Ah, my apologies. But it does teach three valuable lessons: First, don’t harm a dragon child. Second, don’t incur the wrath of an elder dragon. Third, don’t incur the wrath of an elder dragon with a wife that can kill all of your friends and colleagues. It is tradition for things to be done in threes, especially when it concerns fae, so let us conclude one more story, a story of life, not death.

***

The moon was only the barest sliver of a waxing crescent, and its dim light shone down on two figures in a small clearing. One of them was the Unseelie queen, who was laying down on a bed of roots that had risen up out of the ground, her teeth grit.

A man paced near, with pale skin and long hair a brilliant yellow. His eyes gleamed green, and a long, thin tail covered in fur lashed behind him. He went by many names, but Oana knew him as Verdant. He looked over at Oana, who was breathing heavily and glaring down at her round stomach and spread legs.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” Verdant asked, seeming only mildly concerned.

“No, no,” the fae queen answered. “Usually I can use my magic to just make them come right out, but this one isn’t feeling as co-operative as the others for some reason.”

So the tailed man turned away and waited. Soon there was the sound of a baby wailing. Then the wailing changed into a weak mewing. Then howling. Confused, he turned around. Oana was severing the umbilical cord with a clawed finger. With the other hand, she was holding what looked to be a small wolf pup, howling up at the sky. Then, suddenly, it was a silent little lizard. After a few more moments, it turned into a human baby boy, but with blue skin and making a sound one would expect more from a bird.

“What form was the child in when they were first born?” Verdant asked.

Oana took a deep breath before answering. She was less affected by the process than a mortal woman would be, but it was still the most tired Verdant had ever seen her. “Hard to say,” the queen answered. “I could feel something was strange with them when I was pregnant, and I now realize they were shapeshifting in the womb. I’ve had ten other kids, three of which have been natural shapeshifters, but none of them did that. My eighth one did cast spells in the womb though, which wasn’t fun.”

“They are a true shifter,” Verdant said.

“I’m too tired to remember what that means,” said the queen, “Does that mean they’re a changeling like you?”

“No,” the man said, “They are beyond a changeling. My kind may be naturally talented at changing forms, and the most powerful of us can manage to shift shortly after birth, but we still have a true form underneath it, what we naturally revert to. But a true shifter has no natural form. They are powerful beings of transformation. I said I’d take the child if they were a changeling, but a true shifter is more your kin than mine, so I’ll just…”

“Yes, yes,” said Oana, weakly waving a hand, “Your little gamble with the kid didn’t pay off. Now go fuck off or I’ll kill you. I have an afterbirth to deal with.”

The changeling turned and scampered off into the woods. The Unseelie held her peculiar child while waiting for the afterbirth to emerge, regenerating her internal tissue after she was done.

Oana stood, holding her eleventh child in her arms. “I think I’ll name you… Mimic,” she said. In response, Mimic turned into a baby girl with hair that appeared to be made of fire. 

The Unseelie queen headed back to the palace. The new princen slept in her arms in the form of a human baby with four eyes and bird wings. As she stepped up to the gates, a pair of red eyes blazed out of the darkness from above. Kaalik often slept draped on top of the palace, making its silhouette even larger and more intimidating. 

“Your newest progeny, I presume,” Kaalik stated, gesturing his head down at the child.

“Yes,” said Oana, “Their name is Mimic. I’ll discuss it with you in the morning, after I get some sleep.”

The entire palace would struggle to sleep that night, as Mimic refused to cease their crying the entire time. The crying was difficult to get used to and block out, as it would change every dozen seconds or so, shifting to howling or roaring or an eerie whispering that could somehow carry through the walls of the building.

At dawn, the king and queen had breakfast together. Oana was eating a salad of manchineel fruit, castor beans, and oleander leaves. Kaalik was in his serpent form and was devouring three large boars and two bears, bones and all. Mimic was finally asleep being gently rocked back and forth by a crib made out of shadowy smoke. They were in the form of a kitten curled up into a ball.

“Do you know who the father is?” Kaalik asked.

Oana looked up, uncertain whether or not to glare. “Be careful to keep that tone sparkling clean of disrespect,” she said .“I’ll not be shamed. And yes, I do. A changeling. He was going to take Mimic if they were also a changeling, but it would seem they are not. Apparently, Mimic is what’s called a ‘true shifter’.”

“Ah, yes,” said the wyrm, “I’ve heard of those. Met one, I believe. You and I may be capable of changing form, but we’re nothing compared to a matured true shifter. Among other things, they’re capable of changing their scent and magical signature as well as outward appearance. I could smell you as a fae queen no matter what form you were in, but even I would be completely fooled by that little one.”

Mimic woke up, saw what Kaalik was eating, and shifted into a tiny boar. They began to grunt and oink. “I know you’ve had several other children, who were a myriad of species,” Kaalik said, “How did the process go with them?”

“Well it varied, quite a lot. Many of my spawn were either cared for by the other parent or grew up in less than a week. The former isn’t feasible here, the latter, well, we’ll see.”

“So what do you intend to do?”

“I’ll take care of them for today, and see what rate they’re going to age at,” the fae queen said, “It's hard to tell with all the shapeshifting. After today, I’ll see what to do.”

“Very well,” the wyrm said.

And so Oana, The Unseelie Queen, She Who Dances In Darkness, The Lady of Shadows, The Warden of Thorns, spent the day chasing after her child. Mimic, it seemed, had gotten bored of infancy and had learned how to walk. And to fly. And to swim. And to climb. And to burrow. They raced all through the palace, trying to find new forms to copy. Oana followed, well aware of how much mayhem one of her spawn could wreak if left unsupervised. As it turned out, it was quite difficult to keep track of someone who could turn into any animal, plant, or object.

Mimic ate throughout the day. They would rapidly gobble up any food left unattended, as well as occasionally taking bites out of both the wood and stone sections of the walls. By noon, Mimic had learned how to perfectly copy sounds and phrases they heard. By the end of the day, they had learned how to speak on their own. It was hard to say if they grew, given how they constantly fluctuated between forms, but the upper limit for how large Mimic could get did seem to be increasing. At breakfast, it seemed they were never in a form that wouldn’t fit in someone’s arms, by nightfall they could get as large as a wolf.

Oana attempted to use her magic to calm Mimic, but they seemed almost completely immune to it. The queen was only given a reprieve when Mimic went to sleep for the night, turning into a large bat and hanging upside down from the ceiling while wrapping their wings around themself.

The next morning, Oana, Kaalik, and Mimic had breakfast together again. Mimic was in the form of a caiman, gnawing on a massive leg bone from a dire bear. “Mimic is remarkable and I love them dearly, as any mother would,” said Oana, “But the child tests my already less than stable sanity. They’re the most exhausting one since my eighth progeny, Morgana. I need to do something relaxing today, like tricking a young girl going through the woods into promising me her voice or something. I can’t do that if I’m also looking after Mimic, so you’re going to care for them today.”

“Why does that obligation fall to me?” the dragon asked, tilting his serpentine head.

“You’re their father.”

“I quite literally am not.”

“Eh, you’re close enough.”

“I raise no objection when you do as you wish,” the wyrm said, “I do not care how many children you create or with whom. But I had nothing to do with the formation of this child, and fail to see why it is my duty to deal with them.”

“Listen very carefully,” said Oana, with an edge to her voice, “If Mimic is not taken off my hands for the day, I may very well snap.” The room grew dimmer, and the fae queen’s shadow lengthened behind her and began twisting through nightmarish forms. Her eyes blazed like twin stars in the darkness, glinting off the sharp points of her claws. “And believe me when I say it is in the best interest of everyone in this castle, including you, that we do not reach that point.”

Mimic looked up from their bone and changed into a human child, around eight years old. “I want to spend time with the big one with the red eyes,” they said, “He acts like he’s a snakey-snake, but I can tell he’s not really.” To provide emphasis to their point, Mimic turned into a tiny black snake and started hissing emphatically.

Kaalik looked up at Oana in confusion. “How do they know this is not my true form?” he asked, “And how-”

“Well, you’ll have all day to figure it out,” said the queen, “Have fun now!” and then she was gone in a puff of smoke. A moment later she reappeared and said, “And don’t hand Mimic off to one of the fae in my court for babysitting. Keep an eye on them yourself.” Then she disappeared once more.

The dragon sighed deeply and looked over at Mimic. Who had disappeared. He looked around, trying to see any out of place objects that the child might have turned into, but everything seemed just as it had been before. “Mimic?” Kaalik asked, “Are you there?”

There was a ripple in the air and the shifter appeared, sitting on the table in front of Kaalik in the form of a snake with wings. “Did I fool you?” they asked, excitedly.

“And you can turn invisible now,” Kaalik said, “Marvelous.”

“I know, right?” said Mimic, “It’ll make hide and seek so fun.”

Kaalik had no intention of scouring the palace trying to find a small creature that could turn invisible and mask its scent, so he desperately tried to think of something else to distract Mimic. “What if… I showed you what my true form looks like?” he offered.

“Ooh, yes!” Mimic exclaimed.

“Alright,” Kaalik said, “We’ll need to go outside. I have crushed the walls of enough castles in my life.”

When the two were in the clearing outside the palace, Mimic turned into a bright red rabbit and began hopping back and forth. “Show me, show me!” they exclaimed.

“There are not many  who would be so excited to see a dragon, and even fewer excited to see this dragon,” Kaalik commented. But then his form began to shift, expanding and growing limbs. After a few moments, he towered over Mimic, powerful claws digging into the earth. He spread his black wings and a shadow engulfed the ground beneath him. From Mimic’s perspective, he blocked out the sun, his eyes like suns of their own.

“Oooh,” said Mimic, “You’re so pretty!”

Kaalik was taken aback. That wasn’t a compliment he heard often. “...Thank you?” he said, uncertain if the smaller shapeshifter had meant it as some kind of mockery.

Mimic turned into a tiny replica of Kaalik. Though they were only three feet tall, it was still remarkably similar, identical down to the scars on the horns. Oana’s child beat their wings furiously and flew up to Kaalik’s eye level, which took some time. When they finally reached the elder wyrm’s head, they landed on his snout.

“Look!” Mimic exclaimed, proudly strutting about, “I’m just like you!”

“Yes,” said Kaalik, amused, “To an uncanny degree. Why, I can no longer tell which one of us is the real me anymore.”

The true shifter tilted their head back and roared, small flames emerging from their mouth. It shouldn’t have been possible for a shapeshifter to simulate a dragon’s fire breath; it was a feature of a wyrm’s natural magic, not their physical form. And yet this creature, less than two days old, had managed it.

“What other shapes can you do?” Mimic asked.

“If you get off my snout I can show you,” the dragon calmly stated.

“Okay!” the true shifter exclaimed. They hopped off Kaalik’s snout and began plummeting towards the ground. Instinctively, the wyrm lifted up a hand to catch Mimic, but they just turned into a blob of water and flowed through his claws, dripping onto the ground. Kaalik supposed Mimic hadn’t ever been in any danger of being hurt from the fall.

The water rose up and reformed into a living statue of a turtle. They reached their head down and began to eat the soil and grass beneath them, happily gobbling it down. “Okay,” Mimic said through a full mouth, “You can show me your other forms now.”

“You are a bizarre little creature,” Kaalik commented. He concentrated a moment before shifting into his human form. Mimic giggled at the sight and munched some more soil. One side of Kaalik’s mouth tilted upwards slightly, and he shifted forms again. He went through every form of his he could remember. A massive roc bird, a more dragon-like humanoid form, an intimidating bear, a smaller stealthy serpent form, a twelve foot tall biped with ferocious claws, a multi-headed hydra, a giant squid with spiked tentacles. Each one of his forms had a dark black surface and glowing red eyes. Mimic continued to eat dirt and watch in awe the entire time. When Kaalik was done, he returned to his original dragon form.

“I like your dragon shape best,” Mimic said, “It looks the nicest.”

“I’ve always thought so too,” the wyrm responded.

Mimic turned into a large scarab with a shimmering indigo shell. “Can you do colors besides red and black?” they asked.

“Well, yes,” said Kaalik, “I can. On occasion I need to do so to deceive others.” To demonstrate, he turned into a pale old man with misty white eyes wearing a gray robe.

“So if you can do that,” said Mimic, “Why are all your forms the same colors? You could do stuff like this.” Then Mimic transformed into a peacock that had feathers of nearly every imaginable color.

“Yes,” said Kaalik, “I could do that.” If I wanted to look like a rainbow’s internal organs, he thought. “I like to stick to a specific aesthetic,” he explained instead.

“Come on,” urged Mimic, “Try it!”

“I don’t think I shall,” said Kaalik.

Mimic transformed into Kaalik’s human form, which apparently they now had mass enough to do. They cleared their throat and said, in a flawless imitation of Kaalik’s voice, “I am afraid that I cannot turn into anything fun and colorful because I must be scary and dark and serious all the time. Rawr.”

The wyrm sighed. “Oh, very well,” he said. He thought for a few moments before deciding. He closed his eyes and a shimmering wave spread over his scales, starting from his nose. The scales at the end of the snout became a brilliant red, fading to an orange along his neck, a yellow on his shoulders and front legs, green on his wings and stomach, blue on his back legs and a portion of his tail, and purple for the remainder of his tail. He opened his eyes, which both shone white. “This is humiliating,” he said.

“Yaaaay!” exclaimed Mimic, turning into a replica of Kaalik’s new chromatic rainbow form. They happily ran and flew around Kaalik’s feet while the dragon merely watched them, smiling a little.

“Okay!” said Mimic, “Now we play a game. I turn into a bunch of stuff, and you try to copy me.”

“I will do my best,” said Kaalik

Mimic began rapidly changing from shape to shape, going through every arrangement of color imaginable. Kaalik did his best to keep up. Unlike Mimic, shapeshifting was not his primary magical talent, so he took longer to change from form to form. There were also some shapes that the wyrm simply could not turn into, like a rock or a tree. The dragon was limited to shifting to animal shapes, and didn’t have much practice shifting into all these different colors.

“Let’s… take a break,” panted Kaalik, feeling more tired than he had in a long time. Both he and Mimic were in the forms of bright pink sheep.

“Okay!” said the little shapeshifter, stooping down to munch on the grass and soil.

An Unseelie flew up on skeletal bird wings. “Mimic?” she asked, looking between the two pink sheep.

“Hello,” said Mimic, raising their head, still chewing on their food.

“Aren’t you supposed to be supervised, your highness?” the fae asked, looking around. She pointed at Kaalik, still in the form of a brightly colored farm animal. “And what or who is this thing? Please tell me you don’t multiply.”

Kaalik’s wool darkened and melted into scales as his form swelled in size. The fae looked up in horror as the behemoth of shadow towered over her. “You need not be concerned, Mimic is being supervised,” he said smoothly, “And I am to be referred to as ‘your majesty’, not ‘this thing’.”

The fae gave an unsteady nod, a look of terror on her face. In a puff of dark blue smoke, she disappeared. Kaalik looked down at where she had been and started to laugh, a deep rumbling sound like thunder. Mimic looked up in fascination and opened their mouth, copying the sound, so two sets of great, powerful cackles echoed across the clearing.

“I do not recall how long it has been since I have laughed,” said Kaalik when he finally finished, “When you are as old as I am, few things shock you enough to be humorous. But I have never had the opportunity to surprise someone by being in a form so ridiculous that it could not possibly be me.”

“I want to go flying,” said Mimic, staring up at the sky, not having paid attention to what the wyrm just said.

“So let us fly,” said Kaalik, and the pair lifted off of the ground.

Oana returned home satisfied, having cursed a young woman’s first-born child to transform into an unkillable boar-monster on their thirteenth birthday. “Greetings, my lady,” said an attendant at the entrance to the palace.

“Do you know where my husband and child are?” the queen asked.

“They are in the king’s hoard room last I heard, my lady.” Oana nodded and opened a door of shadow into the hoard room. She felt a little bad about forcing Kaalik to babysit. She didn’t feel bad enough that she wouldn’t make the same decision again in a heartbeat, but still.

She stepped into the hoard room, a massive square chamber that held all the treasures Kaalik had collected since he had become king. He was rather selective so it was a relatively small pile, not large enough to sleep upon yet. Kaalik lay next to the pile of treasure looking tired, and Mimic was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Mimic?” Oana asked, looking around.

A silver bowl with swirling designs around it suddenly transformed into a child with spiky black hair and two wings that looked like they had feathers made of steel. “Hi, mama!” Mimic exclaimed.

“Hello, dearest,” said Oana, “How did your day with Kaalik go?”

“It was great,” exclaimed Mimic, “Dad showed me all the different shapes he could do, then I heard him laugh. It was cool, it sounded like-” the shapeshifter suddenly stopped and let out a deep booming laughter that they should not have been able to produce.

“I didn’t know you could laugh,” the fae queen said to Kaalik.

“I hold mysteries beyond even your comprehension, my lady,” the dragon responded, not rising from his lying position.

Oana suddenly realized something. “Mimic called you ‘dad’.”

“Mmm,” Kaalik said. “I have explained to Mimic that we are not related. They have asked if they may refer to me by such a title regardless, and I saw no reason to refuse the request.”

The fae queen gave the dragon a curious look. “Maybe you really do hold mysteries, dragon.”

“I’m not done,” said Mimic, drawing their mother’s attention back to them, “So me and dad went flying, and it was fun, and I ate dirt and then some wood and then some cake, and then we came back here so I could look at all his pretty shiny things and they’re so pretty and shiny.”

“Well it seems like the two of you had an unexpectedly wonderful day together,” said Oana, “And the palace isn’t on fire, so that’s a bonus.”

“Mimic is quite pleasant company,” said Kaalik, “But also rather draining. You may take care of them tomorrow, Oana.”

“Fair enough,” the fae queen said, “Come now, Mimic, it’s getting late. It’s important to get to bed on time.”

“You are literally called She Who Dances In Darkness,” Kaalik pointed out.

The Unseelie glared at him. “I plan my sleep schedule carefully and nap heavily the day before and after,” she retorted. Oana took one of Mimic’s hands, which turned into a tentacle, and led them off to bed.

Mimic remained at the Unseelie palace for five more years, maturing greatly and becoming capable of growing almost as large as Kaalik. Their father taught them to fight, survive, and outwit heroes, as well as teaching them about art and maintaining class. Their mother taught them to trick, torment, and tantalize, in addition to how to move as a shadow and dance in darkness. They often slept either by their mother in a nest of thorns or under their father’s wing, as the most valuable treasure he had ever had.

Even after departing the palace to find more forms to copy and adventures to have, their mother made them promise to return home regularly.

Mimic, they were called. The Unseelie Princen, The Shifting Shadow, The Wyrm-Child and Thorn-Born.

***

And there you have it, dearest audience. The tale of Kaalik and Oana. Well, three tales really. Oana had many other children, Kaalik exacted many other revenges, and Mimic had enough exploits of their own, but let’s just leave it there.

As I said before, it's not a traditional love story. But the story does contain love. A love for treasure, a love for power, a king and a queen who grew to be dear friends with love of each other’s company, and both their love for a child.

Farewell, and I hope you enjoyed this black-hearted faery tale.