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Mystifier

“Into The Dragons’ Den” by Martin Maenza

A frigid blast of air blew across the region, whipping in and out of the rocky outcrops like children playing tag. Above, heavy clouds raced across the sky and kept interfering with the full yellowish moon that tried to cast some light for anyone foolish enough to be traveling in the outer regions on this particular night.

One lone figure moved across the land, slowly approaching a range of small mountains that bordered the lands on two sides. A crimson cape with a high collar was wrapped tightly about his body in hopes to add further to the protection of his blue robes and cowl underneath. Still, the chill of the winds struck him like icy daggers and made it difficult for him to move in the path he wanted.

This night could rival the Frijhounds ’ breath! he thought to himself. Spying a small outcrop, he made his way toward it and was able to duck behind it. The wind whistled off rock but could not sting him further.

For the first time in hours, the young sorcerer known as the Mystifier was able to relax. He reached into the recesses of his robes and produced a small portion of a loaf of bread. He broke off a piece with his bone-cold, exposed hands, silently chastising himself for not thinking of bringing along a pair of gloves, and ate it. The grains offered some nourishment. I am thankful for finding that open shop in the village before I began this long trek out into the wilderness. He glanced upwards to the mountains that loomed overhead and sighed. And yet I still have much farther to go. He put away what was left of the bread; he knew he would need it later on.

Then, he pulled forth from another pocket in his robes an object – a small metal ring with ancient inscriptions on both of the flat sides and a slight chain that attached both to the ring and down again to a small metal arrow that hung in the ring’s open center. Mystifier held the chain and let the ring hang down from his outstretched hand. The ring rotated back and forth for a moment and then steadied itself despite the wind. Then the arrow began to move slightly as if fixing onto something.

The mystical ‘compass’ if you will pointed up into the mountains, confirming that the hero still remained on the right course.

Quickly, he put the artifact back into his robes. Any magic I use must be in small doses, he thought to himself. I cannot risk being discovered to soon, nor can I exhaust my resources until they are most needed. Once everything was secure once more, he took leave of the small stone sanctuary and began the long, arduous climb. As Mystifier made his way slowly up the mountain in the general direction that the compass indicated, his mind wandered back to a day nearly a decade ago.

* * *

1977

Just outside of a small village in the English countryside, a family of three approached an older, weather-worn cottage.

The man was older in age, having been born just fifteen years into the new century. Still, despite the graying hair at his temples, he was well-fit and preserved for his years. A lot of that had to do with his heritage, coming from a line of males that lived to easily be a century old, and despite it – given the family profession was fraught with danger and risks.

The woman was slightly more than half his age, and she had long flowing brown hair that framed her attractive face. She was petite but athletic, having more strength and skill than her frame revealed.

The third one was their son, a brown haired youth of thirteen. He was thin and gangly, not yet nearly on the verge of growth spurt that would take him from a boy to adolescence. He appeared to be the type that was more comfortable sitting in a library or, if he had to be outside, under a tree with a book.

“We won’t be long, I promise,” Leslie Haygner said as traversed the cobblestone walk and approached the wooden door. “I just want to check on Ms. Bradley and her newborn son.”

The young man frowned slightly, and his father noticed. “Alan, what’s the matter?” Stephen Haygner asked. “Don’t you like babies?”

The youth shrugged his shoulders. “Not particularly…”

“Well, when you start to get interested in girls…” his father began to tease.

“Father, eeewww !”

“Oh, you hush now, Alan,” his mother scolded slightly. “And, Stephen, please, he is still only a child. He has his whole life to worry about girls and such.”

Stephen leaned closer and whispered in his son’s ear. “Son, just be thankful that all these newborns your mother helps to deliver as a midwife haven’t rubbed off on her. Women her age start thinking about having another child right about this time.”

“Father!” the young man protested. He did not want to have anything to do with this conversation, and he tried in vain to push his father aside.

“Both of you stop it,” Leslie said as she was about to knock on the door. “You’ll embarrass me so with all of your carrying…”

A loud, urgent scream from inside the cottage pierced the air. It was that of a woman. “Ms. Bradley!” Leslie exclaimed. The first cry was followed in tune with an equally high pitched scream of an infant child.

Stephen did not hesitate. Responding to danger was a reflex action to him after all these years. Throwing his wait against it, he burst down the door on his second try and charged into the dwelling, followed quickly by his wife and son.

A heavyset woman with dark hair was on her knees on the floor. Tears streamed from her eyes as she reached up desperately for her child. “Please!” she cried out. “Give him back!”

The infant let out a wailing cry and stretched out his chubby fingers and hands towards his mother, trying too to reunite with the only one in the world he was familiar.

But the child was held fast by a raven haired man with a slight beard, dressed in robes as red as blood and a long flowing purple cape. “This child belongs to me now, woman!” the wicked voice announced.

Stephen Hayger exclaimed, upon entering the room, “Zandorok ! What are you doing here?” Instinctively, the elder man gestured with his hands to summon forth some arcane energies to strike his long time foe.

With his free hand, Zandorok dismissed the attack with a wave. Stephen’s blast dissipated harmlessly. “We meet again, Necromancer,” he sneered. “Sadly, however, this is none of your concern. My business in your realm today is to retrieve this child.”

“No! Not my baby!” the woman on the floor cried out again.

“What is this child to you?” Leslie asked confidently.

“More than you can imagine,” the evil sorcerer replied. “My plans for him are no concern of yours, mortals. Now, I will be taking my leave.” Zandorok gestured, opening a mystic portal behind him.

“Leave the child!” Stephen Haygner ordered. He hurled another magical blast but the shot was off the mark as he was trying to avoid hitting the child that his foe held closely to his breast.

Zandorok shot a blast back. Stephen took the brunt of it and tumbled backwards into his wife and son. The villain then laughed, stepped backwards into the open portal and vanished.

The woman on the floor was confused, hysterical. “My baby!” she cried. “Who was that? Why did he take my Matthew? Why? Why?”

Leslie bent down and tried to comfort the woman. “Sshhh . It’ll be okay. I promise.” But her words and embrace did little to heal the pain of a woman whose two week old child was stolen right out from under her. She turned to her husband. “Stephen, is there anything you can do?”

The elder man thought for a moment and then nodded. “I can,” he said solemnly. Then, Stephen Haygner knelt down and put his hands to the grieving woman’s temples. He held her head gently and spoke some incantation in a long forgotten language; the woman’s eyes closed to sleep.

Young Alan watched his father work his magic and, when Stephen finally rose from the floor, he asked, “Father, what did you do?”

While Leslie helped put a pillow under the woman’s head, Stephen walked his son towards the door. “I made Ms. Bradley sleep,” he said. “And I helped her mind forget about what just happened here today.”

“But…” Alan said, putting all the pieces in line, “…what about the child?”

“When she awakens, she won’t know what happened to her son. But that does not mean the child is lost to be forgotten forever. No, in fact, I vow to find that child no matter how long it takes and return him to this world! I know my old enemy all to well. Whatever fate Zandorok had in mind for Matthew Bradley, it shall not come to pass. I swear it!”

It was only just a few months after that when Alan was sent to the United States to begin his magical studies with a Salem witch named Sybil Leigh. Shortly after that both Stephen and Leslie Haygner disappeared. Alan wanted to return to England immediately, to begin searching for them! But the old witch with whom he had been entrusted convinced him that he was not yet ready – that he had many miles to before that time.

Still, the young man never forgot the vow his father made that day, and he decided early on to carry on that vow in his father’s absence.

* * *

Mystifier’s attention was brought back to the present when a large shadow quickly fell upon him. It was accompanied by a loud whooshing sound as something massive soared past the rocks upon which he climbed. He threw himself against the rocks for protection and held firmly with his hands to avoid being knocked off the jagged surface.

Turning his head, he saw a large reptilian creature flying off into the night. It was easily as long in body as an eighteen-wheeled semi truck. Across its back were a pair of large wings, easily again twice the size of its body from wingtip to wingtip. A dragon! he thought to himself. I truly must be getting close then.

When he was certain that the departing creature was well on its course away from the mountain, Mystifier began his ascension again. I have to hurry, he thought. No telling how long it will be gone. He could only hope that it would be a good while before it returned. Still, as he climbed, he kept his ears perked and his eyes watching for it or any others of its kind.

An hour later, he reached a smooth stone landing with a large opening in the side of the mountain. Quickly, Mystifier pulled forth his artifact again and held it out. After a few moments, the arrow confirmed his suspicion – what he sought was inside this cave. With his free hand, he conjured up a small orb of illuminating energy, enough to light his way as he proceeded to enter the cave.

The path was large and cleared except for the occasional heavy scrape marks on the floor no doubt made by dragon talons. This will help for a quick escape if need be, he concluded, and easy for that dragon to return faster too. He moved quickly down the path towards the other end.

The path opened into a large cavern, easily hundreds of feet wide and high. Moonlight shown in from small openings in the ceiling and bathed the entire chamber. The light danced off a large pile of gold and jewels pushed back into the furthest corner, causing the wealth to twinkle and sparkle.

Mystifier wasn’t interested in that though. He made his way past a large pile of bones, mashed and snapped clearly by powerful jaws, and moved towards a shadowy form near the left side of the chamber.

He could hear a slight sound coming from there. It was clearly the sound of snoring. As he moved closer, the sound abruptly stopped. One eye opened and fixated on him. Then there was a sniffing sound.

Mystifier stopped, knowing his scent had given him away, and he held up his hands to show he was here peacefully. “Hello,” he said in a friendly, non-threatening way. “My name is Alan Haygner .”

The form stirred, rising to its feet and tensing. All the while, it kept both eyes now focused on the newcomer. From his light source, Mystifier could see that this was also a dragon, reddish-green in color, and clearly much smaller than the one he spied earlier.

“I am not here to harm you,” the young sorcerer said sincerely. “I am here to help you.”

There was a pause for a moment as the dragon carefully considered the human’s response. Mystifier was not sure if it had understood his words, or if it was relying on body language, tone, motions and other factors to make its decision.

The dragon shook its wings out and puffed out its chest to appear more majestic and powerful.

Mystifier stood still and did not react negatively to the action.

The dragon then cocked its head, gave the human a long glance before it settled back down once more. It seemed satisfied.

Mystifier began to approach the dragon slowly, reaching into the folds of his robe as he did so. “I have something for you,” he said the creature. “Something that will help to ease the hardships which have been placed upon you.” He produced a small vile of liquid, opened it and moved closer towards the dragon’s snout.

The dragon sniffed as the young man drew closer and then turned his head slightly.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” the sorcerer said with a smile. “I know it might not smell like much, but trust me it will go down easily.” He nudged the vial closer to the creature’s mouth. “Come on. How about taking just a little taste?”

The dragon looked Mystifier in the eye as if looking right down into the human’s soul. Something it saw, or sensed, told it that this was a human to be trusted. The creature opened its mouth.

Mystifier smiled and poured the contents of vial into its mouth. “There you go.”

The dragon closed its mouth again and appeared to swallow the mixture.

The young hero gently rubbed the creature’s long snout. “That’s good,” he said. “Very good.”

A loud thud on the floor across the way caused both dragon and man to turn quickly. There, towering above the fatted carcass of a large cow was a much larger reddish-green dragon. Its eyes were narrowly focused and its breath heavily steaming through the rows and rows of teeth in its mouth. When the dragon spoke, it was in a booming, slightly feminine voice. “Step away from my nestling, human!”

Mystifier was a bit surprised to hear the newcomer dragon speak in a language he knew. But, then again, since it appeared that this dragon was much older than the one he traveled here to find, it was not that unusual.

“I mean him no harm, madam,” Mystifier said. “That is not why I am here…”

“You’ve come then to steal my treasure horde!” the large dragon boomed as she changed her position to protect both the cave entrance and the pile of jewels and such. Despite her weight, she moved with a fluid, swiftness to her step.

“No, no, not at all,” Mystifier said.

“Do not attempt to beguile me, human!” the dragon warned. “Your kind only dares enter our den for one thing.”

“I want nothing that is rightfully yours,” the sorcerer said. “I am here for something that was left with you that was wrongfully taken from another.”

“What?” the dragon snapped.

“That child,” Mystifier said, pointing to the young dragon behind him.

“Impossible!” the large dragon proclaimed. “He was given to me in exchange for a promise on my part. I was to watch over this dragon, raise him as if he were my own. I have kept up my end of the bargain.”

“The one who brought him here is evil and has only his own ill intentions in mind. What he left you to watch was not his to offer in the first place. The child belonged to another, snatched from his mother’s arms and brought here to you.”

The larger dragon tensed. “I do not believe your lies, and I will hear no more of them!” She opened her jaws and summoned forth a strong burst of fire.

Mystifier was barely able to put up a mystic shield to shunt off the attack. “I am telling you the truth,” he said over the sound of the flames.

“Sorcery!” the dragon proclaimed as it stopped its flaming attack. “I should have known! And here I thought my senses were playing tricks on me.”

“No tricks,” Mystifier said. “Please, I just want to help the child and return him to where he belongs.”

“He belongs with me!” the large dragon cried as she charged forward. Her feet fell heavy on the stone floor, shaking the chamber with each sudden step.

The sorcerer barely had time to dive out of the way and tumble to safety before being crushed by the charge. “Please,” he said from the ground. “If you would just listen to me…”

“The time for talk is over!” the large dragon said. “Now, you shall die!” She started to rear back its head to blast the man with fire.

The dragon stopped short at the last second, turned and let its unbridled blast discharge to a vacant part of the cave. Then, it turned back to where the smaller dragon was standing between her and the young man. “Child, what are you doing? You cannot truly be defending this…this human?”

The smaller dragon stood firm, its body and wing span shielding Mystifier from any direct attack. It snorted and stared down the creature that had nurtured it for the past near decade. Clearly the younger one was outmatched by size, weight and experience. And yet it still stood there to protect someone it had just met.

“Madam, please,” Mystifier said as he rose to his feet. “I have spoken nothing but the truth to you. This dragon you see before you is not truly a dragon at all. His life began as a human, just as mine did.”

The larger dragon cocked her head. “You are telling me that my child is not a dragon?” she asked. “How can that be? I would know.”

“Circumstances and dark magic changed him into the form you see before you. The one who brought him to you did so for his own twisted purposes. He was the one that deceived you by not revealing the child’s true nature.”

“Human, you are stalling,” she said. “You have done something to bewitch my nestling, to make him defend you. I can accept that. But I cannot accept your fairy stories about…” The mother dragon stopped in mid-sentence, nearly choking on her words. “…I…it can’t be…”

Before her eyes and Mystifier’s , the smaller dragon started to change form. It grew smaller in size and mass, and its features altered dramatically. Gone were the expansive wing span, long neck and tail. The talon claws turned into ten fingers and ten toes.

The young dragon was gone, and in his place stood a brown hair, brown eyed little boy.

The child held out his hands, astonished as the one who had raised him, and flexed his fingers. “What…is…this…?” the child wondered. And then he was taken aback by the sound of his own voice, not deep and guttural like that of a dragon but slightly higher pitched and smooth.

“Trickery!” the large dragon shouted.

“I spoke the truth,” Mystifier countered. “You are wise with your many years, madam. Surely your senses can help you see that this is the truth. This is the child’s true form.”

The dragon cautiously extended her neck forward, her snout pointed in the direction of the human child before her. She drew in a deep breath through her nostrils. Then her eyes grew wide.

Mystifier started to say, “See, I told you…”

His words were cut short when the dragon spun around unexpectedly and swatted both he and the boy across the cavern with her powerful tail. Mystifier hit the ground first with the boy on top of him.

The child sprang from the prone position and charged at the mother dragon. As he did so, his form changed back into that of a dragon again.

The mother dragon reared back her head and belched forth a stream of flame, creating a barrier between her and the attacker.

The smaller dragon stopped short. “Mother!”

“Don’t call me that!” the larger dragon snapped. “I am not your mother!” She turned to Mystifier who was rising from the ground. “You! Sorcerer! Begone and take this aberration from my sight!”

The smaller dragon looked confused. “Aber …aber …” He wrestled with the word.

Mystifier approached him and put a hand to his side. He could see the hatred and anger in the larger dragon’s eyes. “Come, Matthew,” he said to the smaller dragon. “We should go.”

The smaller dragon turned to the caped human. “Go?”

Mystifier nodded and began to walk towards the cave’s entrance.

The young dragon started to follow but then turned back once more to look at the creature that had raised him.

She saw the gaze, a mix of fear and uncertainty and sadness. Still, she turned her back to him.

The small dragon turned and followed after Mystifier. As he did so, he started to change again, becoming a human child once more. “Wait…” he called.

Mystifier stopped on the path and waited for the boy to catch up. He offered out his hand.

The lad took it. “You called me something back there,” he said.

“Matthew,” Mystifier replied as they started to walk again. “That is your name. The one you were given by your birth mother.”

“Are you taking me to her?” the boy asked.

Mystifier paused. How could he tell the child that his true mother died so many years ago of a broken heart? “No,” he said. “But I will take you to my home.” With his free hand, the sorcerer made a gesture, opening a shimmering portal before them. “Let’s go.”

The child was hesitant. “Sir…?”

“You can call me Alan,” Mystifier said. He encouraged the boy with a gentle tug to move towards the opening. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The boy looked up at the hero and could see sincerity in the parts of his face not covered by the mask. “Alan?”

“Yes?”

“Will I always remain in this form?”

“I don’t know, Matthew. It appears you can still change into a dragon. We’ll have to study that more.” The two stepped through the magic portal and were gone.