Draconis Academy 4: Once upon a Spacetime (A Nocturnal Academy Story)

By Ethan Somerville

Out of the vast expanse of the cosmos, something colossal and older than time itself is approaching.

A long-standing friend of Professor Abbacus arrives at the Nocturnal Academy, seeking help to investigate this enigmatic object.

Aided by an unusual group handpicked for their unique abilities and experiences, they must all battle to gain entry into this heavily-defended artefact.

It won't be easy and unfortunately not everyone sees eye to eye...

Warning: this is the first part in a trilogy, and finishes on a cliffhanger.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Storm Publishing
• Release date: Aug 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215377437

Ethan Somerville

Ethan Somerville is a prolific Australian author with over 20 books published, and many more to come. These novels cover many different genres, including romance, historical, children's and young adult fiction. However Ethan's favourite genres have always been science fiction and fantasy. Ethan has also collaborated with other Australian authors and artists, including Max Kenny, Emma Daniels, Anthony Newton, Colin Forest, Tanya Nicholls and Carter Rydyr.

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Draconis Academy 4

(A Nocturnal Academy Story)

Once Upon a Spacetime

By

Ethan Somerville

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SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Storm Publishing on Smashwords

Draconis Academy 4 – Once Upon a Spacetime

Copyright © 2023 by Ethan Somerville

www.stormpublishing.net

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Prologue

An ancient artefact drifted through the darkness between galaxies. On visual scanners it appeared as a gigantic orb of nothingness, a huge, empty hole silhouetted against normal space. It blotted out all background radiation and exuded no waves of its own, reflected very little light, and absorbed everything beamed at it. It couldn’t be detected in alternate realms, or even in the timestream. In those dimensions it didn’t seem to exist at all.

But it was definitely there, like someone had punched a hole in the universe. Was it some sort of spacetime rift? No, black holes, naked singularities and similar celestial phenomena all bent space and exuded copious streams of radiation. This thing was only present by its total and utter absence.

The small, sentient timeship that had detected the anomaly decided to fly in for a closer look. Because the discrepancy was lurking so far out in the cold emptiness of open space, it took the eldritch craft several hours of travelling through the hyper dimension to reach it. The craft had never journeyed so far from the safety of its galaxy before. Even though it was not equipped to feel cold, icy shivers still rippled through its transplastic exterior. Only void vampires travelled out this far.

Memories of the ship’s long-gone physical body coursed through its silicon cells. It ached for someone to talk to, and wished that its old master was still alive. It had been flying around by itself for so long…

Even spaceships could get lonely.

The small, egg-shaped craft popped out of hyperspace ten million kilometres from the mysterious nothingness. At first it thought it had miscalculated and appeared right on top of the thing, but when it checked its sums, it realised it had made no mistake.

The discrepancy only appeared right in front because it was so huge. It was at least as large as the Earth’s orbit around the sun – almost three hundred million kilometres in diameter. Had the ship possessed a head, it would have spun from the breathtaking scale of the thing. It was at least as big as a red giant, but definitely not one of those. Even at this close range the ship still couldn’t detect any radiation. The enormous thing still didn’t seem to have a presence in any other realm apart from this one. It loomed, almost completely black, in front of the ship.

The vessel enhanced its nightvision capabilities to maximum, drawing on the few photons that had managed to stumble all the way out here from distant galaxies and the occasional red dwarf, burning far away in the darkness. Finally, features began to appear - ridges and chasms strangely geometrical in shape and design.

A horrified suspicion began to form. That’s impossible, the timeship thought. It flew in for a closer look, and the vast object grew even larger, soon filling the vessel’s entire field of vision. The ship spotted more complicated shapes within the mountains and trenches; spires, domes and bristled antennae.

The thing was a gigantic machine.

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Chapter 1

Ever since being captured and imprisoned by the IntelliGent, Drago Bethelrath had been especially moody. He was Earth’s very last dragon, a one-of-a-kind shifter with the power to fly, change his shape and breathe fire. He was fit, strong, fast and growing into a tall, handsome lad with big dark eyes, smooth, golden skin and silky black hair now long enough to pull back into a ponytail.

So why the heck had he been so easily taken and hung in the Gent’s diabolical blood-draining machine? Why hadn’t be been able to defend himself?

No matter how much his friends and Professor Abbacus tried to console him with the fact that the Gent was an exceptionally powerful mage, maybe even as strong as the Professor himself, Drago still struggled to accept his failure.

When he learned that a bunch of kids had rescued him, he became even more depressed. He liked his friends, and tried his hardest to put on a brave face for them, but his sadness still shone through.

It was starting to affect his companions.

Derrick had already found somewhere else to sit, with a blonde year eight girl who’d also remained behind for the October holidays. He spent all his time trying to impress her with his brilliant smiles and artful flicks of his long, wavy hair. At the moment she seemed happy enough to talk to him.

Colin, Olive and Auberia would never desert Drago, but all desperately hoped that a change would happen soon to turn his frown upside down.

Drago hadn’t even visited Floz since the incident, several months ago now. No doubt she was wondering what had become of him.

Tonight, the boy sat in the dining hall with his chin in one hand, pushing his food around his plate. Two whole weeks of the October holidays stretched ahead, but he actually wanted to go back to class. At least schoolwork would take his mind off his bleak mood. He even wanted to do some English! Anything so he wouldn’t have to contemplate his failure anymore.

The pale fairy Auberia sat on one side of him, and the stocky, swarthy Colin on the other. While Drago seemed to be wallowing around inside a dark well, Auberia was slowly rising out of theirs. The discovery that they could resist the change had made them feel slightly better. Maybe one day they would be able to shift on their own. At the moment their secret was still safe. They dreaded what would happen if someone horrible like Gunther found out about it. Each night they asked one of the others to will them into a different shape, and practised holding out against it.

Fortunately, Hester, Eunice, Gunther and all his werewolf mates were away for the holidays. The Nocturnal Academy’s dining hall was eerily quiet. Only a handful of students and teachers were still in residence.

Drago was so unhappy his normally ravenous appetite had deserted him. He had only eaten half of his roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. He remembered what had happened the last time he’d gone out hunting on his own and cringed.

Hey, if you don’t want that, can I have it? Colin asked hopefully.

Without a word, Drago pushed the plate towards him.

Thanks! Colin gobbled the rest of the food down.

Colin! Olive reproached. The Nigerian girl was sitting opposite. Don’t be such a pig!

Why not? I’m already a hog! Colin snorted at his own awful joke, and nudged Drago, hoping to dredge up a smile.

Drago continued to stare gloomily off into the middle distance.

You’ll have to do better than that, said Olive. That was terrible, even for you.

Are you saying my jokes are bad?

No, I’m saying that they’re terrible. Bad would be a compliment. Olive grinned to show that she was only teasing.

Now come on! Colin protested.

Auberia clapped a hand across their forehead.

Hey Aubie, you think my jokes are absolute gold, don’t you?

Auberia gaped at Colin. ‘Aubie’?

You have to admit, Auberia’s a bit of a mouthful, Colin continued, and Aubie’s more … you know, gender neutral. He took a sip of his juice.

Auberia rubbed their chin. You have a point. What do you think, Olive?

I don’t know, said Olive. It makes you sound like you’re round.

Colin snorted and sprayed juice all over his plate. Olive laughed and even Auberia quirked a smile.

Drago? Auberia prompted, also wanting to include him in the conversation. Should I go by the name Aubie from now on?

Colin flipped a hand. "You won’t get anything out of him at the moment. He’s more of a drag than a dragon right now!" The werehog cracked himself up. Olive groaned.

Suddenly, an ominous shadow fell over the table. Everyone jumped and looked up. Even Drago started in surprise. He might have been staring off into the distance, but he hadn’t really been looking.

The principal, Professor Icarus Abbacus, stood at their table, hands folded behind his back, glaring down at them through his perfectly normal blue eye and that creepy red lens. As he had a steel grille where his mouth should have been, and a half-metal skull, he always managed to look cranky. The children all immediately wondered what they’d done wrong.

I just need to see you, Drago, he informed the boy.

Me sir?

Yes. Come with me now. Professor Abbacus turned in a swirl of his long leather coat and strode off. Drago gulped and followed. Usually when Professor Abbacus wanted to see any of them, he sent a telepathic message.

Obviously, this was important.

Good luck! Colin gave a cheerful wave.

Auberia elbowed him.

What’s this all about, sir? Drago asked worriedly as he ran to catch up with Professor Abbacus in the hall outside.

Icarus didn’t answer until they were inside his office, and the door had thudded shut behind them. He turned to face Drago. Don’t worry – you’re not in any trouble. He paused, choosing his words. As the principal, he had to be approachable. He couldn’t afford to be the grumpy, aloof teacher he had always been in the past. I understand you’re still upset about what happened in the Gent’s club.

What? Me? No. I’m perfectly fine, Drago said quickly.

"No, you’re perfectly miserable. There’s a cloud of sadness following you around so tangible it’s wilting the local wildlife." Icarus prodded Drago in the chest with a pointy fingernail.

Oh. Drago’s shoulders slumped, and he looked away in embarrassment. He thought he’d been a master at keeping his emotions to himself, not bothering his mates with them.

It’s starting to push your friends away, the principal continued.

You mean Derrick? He’s just trying to chat up a girl. He’ll be back as soon as she shoots him down! He forced a smile. Only a matter of time.

Maybe, but you’re still in a slump.

I’ll get over it – it just takes a while. Drago spread his hands. I hope! he thought miserably.

I know, but it has been a while already. I think you need a little nudge. Professor Abbacus turned from Drago and crossed the room to the door at the back that led directly to his underground laboratory. I believe I’ve found something that will lift your spirits.

An adventure? Drago asked with sudden hope. Another chance to prove I’m not a wuss dragon?

Icarus opened the door. Not exactly. And bloody hell boy, stop putting yourself down! He stepped into the lab and disappeared from sight. Wuss dragon indeed!

Drago followed him into his massive, labyrinthine laboratory. These days, it was easy to get lost in the gloomy corridors of benches, weird machines, and shelf after shelf of books and artifacts. The ceiling was covered with cables, pipes and hoses. Drago thought the Professor was going to take him to the Mirror of Albiroth, but instead he escorted him to a large, old-fashioned dentist’s chair with velvet-padded arms and an old metal helmet hanging above. The device was called the Alternate Actuality Machine. Cables trailed from it to a massive computer system comprised of numerous units of various vintage, and a dozen assorted monitors hanging in a formidable tangle of wires.

Professor Abbacus pulled a projection screen from the mess overhead, and gestured to the chair with his steel hand. Hop in.

Drago scrambled up into the seat. Are we going to review some more of my mother’s memories?

Professor Abbacus pressed his mismatched hands together. Yes. But we’re going to divert from the sequence we’ve been following. While I was scanning her recollections myself, I stumbled across a very interesting detail.

Drago settled himself in the chair. What is it?

It’s a surprise. Icarus gave a wink, then lifted a steely finger to his grille. He pulled the heavy steel helmet down on its articulated arm, fitting it over Drago’s head.

Lately, Bethelrath’s memories had become rather slow as she made her way through the prehistoric world, taking stock of all the numerous creatures that had walked during that time. Every kid loved dinosaurs and ancient megatheria, but after months, even these weird and wonderful beasts and their various antics could become repetitive. The thought that the Professor had found something different appealed, and curiosity finally began to nudge Drago’s numbness aside. He peered intently through the spectacles that Abbacus positioned over his eyes.

Images flickered into life on the white screen opposite. Icarus darted to his keyboard and tapped some buttons to slow them down and clarify them. Then he stood back to watch. Had he needed to hold his breath, he would have been doing so in anticipation. When he’d discovered this fascinating part of Bethelrath’s history, he had almost shrieked in excitement.

Almost. He was Professor Icarus Abbacus after all. He didn’t squeal like a little kid. However, he was sure this amazing information would make Drago’s day.

The dancing images on the screen stabilised to depict a bleak mountainside lined with thin, wispy trees, and thicker pines below. Patches of snow streaked the slopes. It was desolate, but still beautiful.

Where am I? Drago asked from his chair.

Icarus tapped a key. This is somewhere in the heartland of the Burkhan Khaldun mountains, 160 km northeast of Ulaanbaatar.

Where? exclaimed Drago, whose geography wasn’t quite that good yet.

Mongolia. Ulaanbaatar is the capitol city.

Ah. Drago examined the mountain landscape. As he was directly connected to the Alternate Actuality Machine, he experienced the reality in its full, 360-degree entirety. He could even feel the icy wind on his cheeks, and smell the fresh snow and pines. He had been informed that Harley had provided the additional details for a more interactive, visceral experience. He started to walk forward, the snow crunching beneath his boots. As he was inhabiting his mother’s memories, he had no control over his movements, and had to follow hers.

He figured his mother was wearing her human form. She was a small, slender, but very striking woman with long silver hair worn in two braids. She wore a woollen dress with a fur shawl over her shoulders, and fur-lined boots. When she smiled, she displayed a full set of even white teeth. Her age was impossible to gauge as her golden-brown skin was relatively clear and devoid of wrinkles. Her black-button eyes were brilliant, almost seeming to glow with their own inner light – the light of millions of years of knowledge.

So, what am I doing here? Drago asked as he walked.

Watch, came the Professor’s disembodied voice.

Bethelrath’s path carried Drago up the bleak mountainside, through the tall, thin trees and across the snow. He felt like he was walking for a while, but then, at a completely unremarkable part of the hillside, Bethelrath stopped and tapped one foot against the ground. Suddenly, the soil parted as though fluid. A large mouth yawned open, creating a portal deep into the earth. From the way it had appeared, Drago realised that this wasn’t actually a real avenue down into a subterranean complex, but a conduit Bethelrath had imagined to reveal the secret lair beneath.

However, this hidden realm was very real. Following in his mother’s footsteps, Drago found himself looking right and left at magnificent piles of treasure. He gaped at heaps of gold and silver coins, ornaments and jewellery. In his chair, his skin started to tingle in anticipation of so much wealth … more than he ever seen before. A sudden image flashed through his mind, of the magnificent beast he would become after sleeping in a bed of so much money.

He could become twice the size he was now. Maybe even … three times as large. He gasped at the power of it. That horrible Gent wouldn’t be able to shackle him again!

Then something deep inside told him that this hidden cavern was not for him. It was a sacred place beyond his grasp, a tribute to someone who was not meant to be disturbed. As he continued into the cold darkness, he noticed fallen bodies; people and horses had been arranged reverently around a central bier. On the walls he made out intricate designs of attacking leopards and prancing unicorns. It was both beautiful and eerie.

Cautiously, Bethelrath approached the grave in the middle. A tall figure lay on a stone slab. It was dressed in rich robes, with long, flowing hair and beard, hands crossed over its chest. Its eyes were closed. But Drago saw that it had features like his own. In reality the dead man would be little more than a skeleton by now, but he was seeing him as Bethelrath had seen him, a vibrant, living soul at the prime of his life, still magnificent even in repose. Who … who is this?

Professor Abbacus stepped into the virtual reality, appearing as though he had simply been waiting off to one side. In this realm he appeared as a small, slight teenage boy with golden curls falling over his shoulders. He was dressed in plain late fifteenth century peasant garb - tunic, hose and pointy shoes. He clasped his hands together. You are now standing in the hidden tomb of a famous warrior. According to his wishes, soldiers escorted his body back to his homeland and buried it here, in an unmarked grave. As you can see, many horses were sacrificed with him, so he would still be able to ride in the afterlife.

And … and the people? Drago gasped.

It has been claimed upwards of two thousand slaves attended his funeral, the young Abbacus continued. "The soldiers sent to guard them killed them so they could continue attending their master in the afterlife, but also so they could never reveal the grave’s true location.

Another story claims that these soldiers were in turn killed by a further group of warriors, the Professor continued. "And on their way home, these men killed anyone and anything that crossed their path, in order to conceal the true burial site forever. Finally,