Fantasy World Earth Anthology Vol 1: Fantasy World Earth Anthology, #1

By Julius St. Clair, Henry Fleiss, Chris Garcia and J Clair

SHADOWS WAKE:

One World.
Three Realms.
And a deadly secret to unravel it all.

For Malcom McKnight, her life has been entrenched in a protective web of secrets and lies, but when she discovers soul-shattering truths about her family, she finds herself thrust into an entirely different world, and falling headfirst into the comforting arms of a stranger. But she has no time to rest. A nightmarish creature of unbridled rage threatens her new life—the result of a secret that has plagued her family for centuries.

For Andrew Coleman, he has been on the run from an assault charge since he was a teenager. Nothing could make his life worse, or so he thought. When he meets a mysterious man at a bar, looking for escape, he instead awakens in the realm of Exodus—of magic, of monsters, and the truth behind his relentless troubles.

And for the McKnight family—they struggle to hold the splintering pieces of their bond together as terror comes alive at the hands of the Dark Law Ordinance. Their presence brings forth a war unlike any the realm has ever known, and to stop them, it is discovered that the past cannot be buried forever.

It will take a land united to bring light back to Exodus…

In the building storm of A SHADOW'S WAKE.

SOULMATES: 

What would you do if you found out your soulmate…was someone else?

Ever since they fell in love in the second grade, Ali and Daniel seemed destined to spend the rest of their lives together. So, when Daniel asks Ali to marry him, no one is surprised when she says yes.

To celebrate their engagement, they take a trip, looking for a way to make new, exciting memories, and none is more memorable than a visit to a mysterious fortune teller. To confirm their love, Ali and Daniel ask for the identity of their soulmate, and Daniel receives Ali's name.

But for Ali, it is someone she never expected.

Someone from her past that she has desperately tried to forget.

When she returns home to find her soulmate working at a local café, she can't help but dig into the fortune teller's claim. But is the answer worth the cost?

Is it worth losing the man she loves?


FINAL FAMILY

Renee Edevane, the adopted teenage daughter of a tight-knit family, longs for an escape. On her birthday, she is suddenly whisked away to a land of knights, magic, dungeons, and castles. What she did not expect was for her crazy family to come in right behind her!

From evil sorcerers to meteor-casting babies, she will discover that having a family is an adventure all on its own!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kingmaker Press
• Release date: Apr 16, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224610273

Book preview

SHADOW’S WAKE

MYTHICS BOOK 1

Don’t always believe what you see with your own eyes...

By Chris Garcia

This book contains violence, mature themes, sexual content, and some language. It is for mature readers.

Table of Contents:

The Order Speaks

Ancient Laws of the Order

Preface Part I- Among the Wolves

Preface Part II – A Child of Magic

Chapter 1 – A Grand Day

Chapter 2 – Closer

Chapter 3 – Welcome to the Show

Chapter 4 – A Night at Home

Chapter 5 – A Dragon’s Word

Chapter 6 – Blue as the Sky

Chapter 7 – To Be a Mother

Chapter 8 – Magic After Midnight

Chapter 9 – Crossing the Line

Chapter 10 – Secrets of the Night

Chapter 11 – Stranger than Fiction

Chapter 12 – For Each Day

Chapter 13 – The Return of Magic

Chapter 14 – A Drop of Memories

Chapter 15 – The Courtyard of a King

Chapter 16 – What Big Teeth You Have

Chapter 17 – The Heart of a Child

Chapter 18 – A Battle Strategy

Chapter 19 – Split Directions

Chapter 20 – The Power of Lifeblood

Chapter 21 – House of Glass

Chapter 22 – The Price of Blood

Chapter 23 – I Must See the Queen

Chapter 24 – A Father’s Vow

Epilogue

The Order Speaks

"In the beginning of the world before there was ever record of time, the Great Creator constructed both the Heavens and the Earth. In the wake of this great planet, there have existed certain creatures who inhabit it. Some soar in the skies, some swim beneath the waves of the oceans, others trot across the green land and grass. They all lived in harmony together, the creatures of the Creator's world... That was until the day when Man's arrogance destroyed the trust and truth that was held so sacred for so many centuries.

In the decades and eons that have passed from the exile of Eve and Adam from Eden, Man grew ignorant and selfish, losing in himself the memories of the days of equality for all of the Creator's creatures. Once, we all shared the same mind; bound together by the magic that was woven into the fibers of our very souls. But as time passed and the land grew old, and tranquility grew tired, Mankind became more intelligent by nature but lost intelligence in nature. Their innocence died and so the magic in their hearts fell to ruin, leaving nothing of the great organic power that had fueled them for centuries.

Once, long ago, Man and Mythic walked side by side. Man could talk to beast—knowing in himself the common tongue. We lived in the same world and were tethered to it as one. But not anymore. Since the days of the fall from Eden, Mankind has pushed us away. We have always existed in their nature, trapped somewhere between the shadow of their mortality and the soul of their inner demon. Once we, the Mythical beings called Man our brothers, our sisters... Our equals. We were one under God. But much anymore, they have turned their backs on the Great Creator and we have been forgotten and shamed in the wake of their arrogance, cast away; lost to the shadows and regarded as nothing more than myth.

Presently in the modern times of the twentieth century, we are hidden in plain sight from Mankind. We walk among them; we fight beside them. We live in their cities and hide in their towns. But it is not the Mortal World in which we spur from, it is not the land of automobiles and famine and war in which we live. No. We cross between the Mortal and Mythic Realms by means of our own magic, keeping forever safe the ways of our kind, the ways of the Creator’s original design.

Mankind, still our brothers if not estranged, have fallen so far from the times of Eden. Gone are the days when Adam would bathe in the same waters that a mermaid dwelled, or Eve would rest her head upon a slumbering dragon’s flank. Mortals have become so blind to what exists between the darkness and the light, that they fail to see that it is there that it exists, the entry to our world. If born a Mythic with magic blood, it is known that home is never far away... only as short a distance as the space between the shadow and the soul. It has always been this way, and so it forever shall be. Until the day may come, we pray, that Mankind may see us again as their equal. Not their enemies. And it is so. For now and forever more."

—The Mythical Creature Order.

Ancient Laws of the Order

1. No Mythic is to tell a mortal of their being unless that being is marked by the Creator.

2. No Mythic is to fall in love, marry, or have children with or by a mortal being. No exceptions.

3. No Mythic is to fall in love, marry, or have children with or by another being of mythical origin if not of the same race and blood. No exceptions.

4. No Mythic is to break the restrictions and laws of their land in Exodus.

5. No Mythic is to take the life of another Mythic unless they are of a threat to the original being.

Preface- Part I

[Among the Wolves]

The night was wrapped in a cloak of uneasy melancholy. Certain sounds of slumber echoed through the trees and cast a hushed lullaby across the land. A large herd of deer grazed in a field under the pale moonlight, softly chewing their cud as they relished in the near silence. At their lead, a goliath buck was warily watching the line of trees before them. He swayed his great head and tilted his ears, straining to hear a particular sound through the nighttime melodies. Crickets chirped as they danced and sang in the tall grass, swayed by the distant breathing of nymphs and other woodland creatures as they rested in the dark. But all at once, the somber air was sliced by a chorus of chaos; heavy breathing, horse hooves stomping on sodden ground, and the frantic sobs of a patron with a shattered heart. The deer lifted their heads, and with dew-dampened greens still dangling from their mouths, they fled the fields just in time to steer clear of a stampede of royal steeds as they tore across the grounds; only the lone stag remained to watch the scene unfold with a hollowed stare and heavy heart.

Through the silver-glazed trees, a single guard from the Violet Fairyan City emerged as he raced to stay ahead of the patrol. He was sweating profusely and breathing heavy, white fog rolling from his lips as he exhaled into the cold winter air. Branches from the pine trees whipped at his face and arms, cutting his skin and leaving scarlet droplets behind on the needles. He shouldered his way through the ever-thickening wood, ignoring the stinging of his flesh as the advancing hunters began to make up ground. He looked desperately over his shoulder and clutched a precious bundle even closer to his chest. He was all but hopeless, trying frantically to clear the dense forest, needing to find the refuge he so desperately sought.

I should be out of the woods by now! I simply must get past the trees... She said I’d know it when I see it... The man let out a cry of surprise when the blinding pines finally fell away, spilling into a clearing that held a single, lonesome tree. As the pounding of hooves grew nearer, the castaway rocked the still thing in his arms and regained his composure, shuffling sightlessly through the shadowy glade toward his destination.

It was a great silver willow with roots that twisted upward and downwards and every which way, its thin branches reaching so far down that many of them twined with the grass. A sad, heartbroken smile spread across his face as he hurried toward the tree on shaking, weakened legs. Behind him, the other guards were becoming increasingly frustrated, having lost his trail in the fray of the darkened pines, close but without a lead as the horses became disillusioned and lost. So, her magic worked. They wouldn’t find him here. No one would.

As the deserter dipped behind the hanging curtain of branches and into the shroud of mangled roots, he reached out a hand, his palm coming to lay flat against a smooth, door-shaped slab of trunk. He knocked on the bark’s face only once before it gave way, sliding to the side to reveal something extraordinary. For hidden in the clearing, protected by tedious, heavy magic, there was a house built into the massive entrails of the mighty willow tree. 

Good Heavens, Tain! I was starting to think you wouldn’t come... It’s been so long since you’ve sent word... Through a haze of yellow light, an unclear silhouette appeared from inside the hollow trunk. A woman’s petite hands reached out, her arms embracing him as she pulled him inside. Get in here before you both catch your deaths. It is far too cold a night for an adventure such as this... And just as quickly as it had opened, the door was closed again. The bark dissolved into nothing more than a smooth wooden surface, sealing the hidden cottage away from the rest of the world. As the light faded, the willow once again became nothing more than a forsaken tree that stood alone inside a wintery forest.

Behind the enchanted door, the willow kept its secret well. The extending roots and growing wood of the still live silver willow had unfurled but hollowed, leaving a space beneath the earth just big enough for a home. Blocks of brick lined the sides, cemented in place to hide the dark dirt and clay behind. Tubers twisted naturally down, of which the owners of this strange cabin had made a part of their home. There was a chandelier crafted from tree roots, tables and chairs made from branches, countertops etched carefully out of the wood. Beautiful carvings and statues littered the cavern, worked into the walls of the living tree. A warm fire was crackling toward the back, a chimney from it leading to an enchanted chamber some ways back in the setting. All of it was done this way to keep the privacy of the owners. No one was to know they were there. And very few did. In fact, no one did... Except for Captain Tain... Former Captain Tain.

The weary traveler was trembling, though it seemed not to be from cold. He nodded gratefully to the woman who greeted him as she ushered him to a couch and motioned for him to take a seat. As he did, she shuffled over to the kitchen area and drew him a drink from their reserves before handing him ice cold water in a shiny silver cup. Tain took the glass with one hand and pressed the rim of it to his lips, drinking it down as quickly as it had been given. The hostess sat herself in a wooden rocking chair across from her companion and crossed her legs, her electric blue eyes never leaving his face. She looked older now than Tain remembered... But, then again, he hadn’t seen her in nearly a year.

The fairy stared at him with a gaze that was nearly acidic as she suddenly pushed to her feet. She was across the space between them in no more than a heartbeat, extending to him her tender, pale hands. Her fingertips touched the silky fabric of the blankets that held Tain’s most precious possession. His heart hammered in his chest when she offered him a thin, sad smile.

May I see the girl, Tain?

He felt his heart break, swallowing down the agony with a dry throat and burning tongue. The former captain sat his glass down on the table and held the precious bundle even closer to his chest. From the shadows of his hood, he looked down at her meek, elfish face and grimaced through a smile. Tears brimmed on the edge of his eyelids, the whites of his hazel eyes streaking with red as he fought back the sobs that bubbled up his throat. He thought about everything just then and the weight of it all metastasized in his soul: the infant’s mother- his beloved Hera, his family, his friends, his kingdom. His kingdom... He had been seen in high regard back in the Violet City, as the lead guardsman in the Queen’s Royal Council. Tain’s heart ached as he thought of how proud he was to be a Guardsman. Well... That he had been. It shamed him to think he could never go back. But it pained him more that he didn’t know rather or not he would ever see his precious daughter again.

His eyes were now a dark brown so tainted with anguish that they were nearly black. Tain brought the sleeping, enchanted newborn to him and kissed her forehead. As he did, the spell he had cast upon her to keep her at rest for the journey began to dissolve and within moments, she was active and staring up at him with eyes that mirrored his own. The newborn baby cooed at him and he trembled from the heartache as he nodded slowly and carefully reached out, extending the child delicately to the other fairy. The woman took her softly and she stared down at the baby’s face with worry etched into the crease of her brow.

You can tell she’s halfblood, she sighed, bouncing the bundle up and down in her arms. The infant reached out with a tiny hand and touched the stranger’s golden hair. She has the mixed genes. There is a lot of discoloration to cover... I will do all I can to make her skin more Hera’s natural flesh tone, but my fairy dust and elixirs will only go so far, Tain. She will always be Stained, she will always be...

I know. Tain shook his head, pushing a hand through his thick, dark hair, forcing his hood back as he did to reveal frostbitten, pointed ears. Jayle, how can I ever repay you for doing this for me? he asked with a shaky voice as he tried to take his mind off the aching discomfort in his chest. I... I know it has put your life in much danger. If any member of the Order ever found out...

They are more merciful than we give them credit for, my friend, Jayle told the former captain as she rocked the yawning babe gently against her warm chest. For the Order, and the Creator Himself, are not as closed-minded as we think...

But the Ancient Laws are written for a reason. It is so that all Mythical beings stick to their breed for preservation of peace.

"No. For the preservation of power... the peach-colored fairy cast her gaze toward the door. She shook her head and shuddered. Tain, my soul aches for you. I agreed to help you because I understand... When I left the Citrine Kingdom to be with Daniel, I risked my life, my honor... My wings. The life we live here is a careful one and I will keep my promise to you. She will be loved, and she will be raised as a fairy and be trained as a witch. Just as she would have been if she was being brought up by you and Hera. But know also that the day will come when we tell her who she really is, and in doing so... If she comes looking for you, you must not hide from her. The baby coughed lightly then began to cry and Jayle held her closer to the warmth of her breasts, humming a gentle tune as she bounced her up and down. Times are changing in the land, Tain, and secrets cannot be kept forever. Sooner or later, all truth must come to light... her eyes glistened with tears and she reached up and wiped them from her lashes. But for there to be light, we must make it through the dark... And in speaking of dark...Tain...It is time."

The Violet Fairy nodded and slowly stood, his heart as heavy as the feet in his boots. Jayle walked closer to him, allowing the man to see his child for what could have been the last time. He bent down and kissed her forehead once more. His heartbreak manifested into a single tear that splashed onto her brown-splotched cheeks. As the infant stared up into the eyes of her father, she quieted down until the only sound was that of her gentle breathing. She placed a hand on his cheek and Tain laid his own over it. Goodbye, my sweet Cleo, he whispered as he unfastened his faded violet cloak and laid it across the arm of the couch. He shuddered, but not from the cold, as he turned on his heels, heading for the door. He couldn’t stay a moment longer. "I agree, Jayle... All truth must come to light. Times are changing. And for my first admittance? he placed his palm on the door and the slab of bark slid aside, opening up again to the cold winter night. She is the sweetest sacrifice I could ever make. Losing her may be something that I cannot survive..." And with that, the former captain of the Violet Kingdom disappeared into the darkness, shutting his heart behind him and away from the rest of the world.

A CHORUS OF EAR-SPLITTING, spine-chilling howls echoed throughout the hushed walls of an old cobblestone cabin. Sleepy silence was shattered by the frenzied sound of running feet. A bare-chested man wearing gray pajama pants scrambled through the kitchen of the house as massive paws beat at the door. The sounds of rabid snarls and snapping teeth sent chills up his arms, making the dark hairs stand on end. He was holding a young boy against his chest as a woman with long, curly dark hair came running in after him, a black and tan puppy in her arms. Together, the two pushed a massive oak table out of the way and the man bent down, grabbed a painted handle that had once entirely blended in with the ground, and yanked it upward. Where the table had stood, an outline of white formed as he pulled on the plank and a large rectangle on the floor lifted to reveal a secret room lit only by the candlelight of magic flame. Tears flowed down both adult faces as the father eased his son down into the hide-away and the boy’s mother handed the puppy to him. The woman jumped at the sound of splintering wood and she looked over her shoulder, eyes wide in terror, when she saw massive black claws scrapping at the wooden floor of their home. It was too late now! The hounds would be upon them any moment. There was no time. Just no time.

Confused and terrified, the child stared at his bewildered parents with frantic, huge blue eyes and clutched the canine close to his chest. He looked down the tunnel then back up at his mother and father and reached for them with one hand. The mother caught his wrist in her palm and kissed all five of his fingers, her stormy gray eyes heavy with tears. She had her other hand on his cheek, carefully cradling her only son’s face as her husband readied his magic to fight.

Cade... Listen to me now. You will run to the end of this tunnel; do you hear me? Run to the end and you’ll be in Donny’s pasture. He’ll know what to do from there. Do you understand?

Why can’t you come? Cade asked, his eyes glistening with tears as his mother began to lower the plank to hide him and hopefully buy him time. Wait! You have to come too! Momma, Papa, please! The wolves will come in and eat you up...

We’ll be alright as long as you’re okay, my boy. We love you, Cade, his father told him with a voice that was weaker than the boy had ever heard before. The light from above began to fade away and the child was sealed into the dim lighting of the passage. Never forget that.

Just as the door sealed shut, the wood finally gave way and oak shattered in all directions. The crashing sounds of the house being destroyed sent young Cade reeling down the passageway, sprinting as fast as he could with the bewildered puppy bouncing in his arms. Above ground, his parents were faced with a small army of werewolves as the bloodthirsty hunters poured into their home. With the thundering of the lycan paws, they brought with them a thick, sticky cloud of dark mist that filled every crack and crevice of the space. It began to bog down the light magic of the man and woman, clouding their senses and causing the strength of their hexes to falter.

Determined to make a stand, they stood back-to-back, both posed to fight with white light pulsing weakly from their palms. Even as they screamed spells and conjured hexes, blasting away the first few rows of invaders, they knew the battle was lost. The fog was seeping into their skin, wrapping around their limbs, and pulling their focus away from the fight. A few of the wolves were crying in pain but the ambush took its toll, the rush of attackers too rapid to allow any kind of progress to be made on their part with their defenses weakened. For every wolf that fell, six more surged forward to take its place on the front line. The canines were on them at once, snapping and clawing at whatever they could get their slimy, prickly paws on. As the battle showed poor favor, a lanky, eerie alpha wolf slithered through the carnage and locked his eyes on the man. He lunged forward and pinned him down, sweaty back against the cold table face. The wolf bared his white, sharp teeth in the warlock’s face, pupils narrowed into dangerously thin slits.

Jeckles... the warlock snarled, his dark blue eyes glowing with anger as the demonic lycans continued in the destruction of his home. I should have known it would come down to you, you twisted son of a bitch.

Oh come now, Luxar. Is that anyway to speak in front of your misses?

You leave Noctora out of this! Luxar roared, glaring hatefully at a few wolves across the room that had his wife pressed to the floor with her face smashed against the hardwood.

Ah yes... Noctora. The alpha, this... This... Jeckles, slid his hungry gaze over the pretty, raven-haired beauty and licked his lips with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I think we’ll spare your pretty wife for now. I see no need to kill such an attractive Shifter when she could still be... Ah, useful. Right boys?" And all the wolves laughed and howled in agreement as Luxar bellowed in protest. He squirmed under the weight of the foul beast, but Jeckles pressed a massive paw to his throat and it silenced his struggling, black smog wrapping around his wrists and ankles like chains. Jeckles snickered and then lowered his long, narrow, ugly muzzle until it was just a hair away from the warlock’s face. He smiled at him with his big, white, terrible teeth.

Luxar Hanvhar McKommas, you have been convicted and found guilty by the council of the Dark Law Ordinance to have violated one or more of the Ancient Laws set in place by the might and power of the Mythical Creature Order. On their behalf as justice bringers, I hereby sentence you, as Commander of the Ordinance, to immediate death for treason against the Order and betrayal of the law. As the color drained out of Luxar’s face, the fur along Jeckles’ haunches rose, and a terrifying gleam entered his icy blue eyes. "May God have mercy on your soul."

No! Noctora cried, tears streaming down her face. Her voice strained when she screamed and one of the wolves pressed his paw harder onto the back of her neck, forcing her throat down on the wooden surface.

Any last words? Jeckles sneered, baring his fangs to Luxar’s delicate skin, the wickedness of his nature showing in the lustful twinkle in his gaze as he stared directly at the accused’s wife.

The warlock blinked and closed his eyes, thinking just of his only son and praying that he would make it to the dragon pasture to escape. If he can just make it to Donny, nothing will be able to stop him once he’s atop that dragon’s back... He then peeked through his eyelids briefly, staring at his wife’s terrified, tear-soaked face as she reached out her hand to him, her fingertips trembling. So, this was it- this was the end. At least our son is safe... So be it.

I have but one thing to say... Luxar snarled through gritted teeth as he leaned over, his cold fingers desperately longing to twine with Noctora’s for the final time. Jeckles had robbed him of even that. He closed his eyes again, so he wouldn’t have to see her cry. He never could stand to see her cry. And in that moment, Luxar heard the distant rumble of a dragon’s mighty roar and he knew his son had made it to safety. Now the werewolf’s fangs were hot against his throat but he couldn’t help but smile. Jeckles had failed. He would always fail- so long as Cade was alive. Jeckles Dylite... he hissed, a flash of vengeance in his blue eyes.

"May God have mercy on your soul." Jeckles growled in anger at his defiance. It was his final act of rebellion, for with just one swift bite- it was finished. Luxar the Just would speak no more.

Preface- Part II

[A Child of Magic]

The slumbering night was disturbed from its dormancy by the distant sound of a muffled roaring. The dismal fog was split open as yellow light beamed through the clouds of silver mist. On a seemingly abandoned stretch of road, a lonesome traveler made his way down the dampened blacktop. From the blank nothingness, there came an immaculate white vehicle that was tearing down the street, tires burning hard against the wet pavement in the night.

The driver of the car was a young man, seemingly in his early twenties though his eyes held age well beyond their years. His hair was short, well-kept, and charcoal black with tightly coiled curls. He had dark, full eyelashes and a cut jaw that was ridged with dark stubble. His pupils sharpened and, with a sudden, odd half-smile on his face, the driver glanced at all his mirrors to make sure that he was alone on the road... Even though he was always the only one on this road. It had been virtually abandoned for the past decade. That had been precisely why he’d chosen it for his purpose.

Comfortable with his solemn company, he leaned back in his seat and pressed down on the gas pedal until the vehicle accelerated to its maximum. Within a few seconds, the car's engine began to roar as it caught speed upwards of eighty miles an hour and the revs went out of control. A thundering sound resonated from under the hood and grew louder and more violent, increasingly unlike the familiar noise of any machine and more and more like something from another world. The driver’s eyes flashed a shade of sky blue only for a moment as the car cruised past a dead-end sign and disappeared with a shimmer into the mist of the midnight darkness.

Somewhere in a forest unknown and untouched by man, there came a mighty rumble from someplace hidden below in the line of trees. All around, the forests were lush and healthy, beautifully green and stories tall. These pines and maples were vibrant, their barks a flawless brown and the leaves a dark, glossy emerald color. The skies were a perfect, crystal blue without a trace of pollution or corruption. There was another booming roar and the tops of the trees trembled as something incredible pushed from below. From above the wood canopy, a great beast of legend rose from the branches.

This magnificent creature was breathtaking, massive, and lean. Its wings spread like avian metal shields, stretched out from a lithe form and muscular body. It was a majestic sight to see, with scales as white as snow- spare for the points of its body. Its horns, paws, tail-tip, muzzle, wing-tips, and claws were all black as obsidian. There was only one beast that could identify with such splendor. This was a product of ancient lore, a supposed myth come to life in a moment of glory and invincibility- a dragon! It flapped its great wings and was lifted higher into the sunset-drown sky.

Straddling the beast's back from a massive saddle was a familiar form- a man with black, tightly curled hair and startling blue eyes. He pulled lightly on the dragon's reins and the beast nodded, easing down the streams of wind until it slowly, tenderly, climbed the breeze to a stop. Its paws landed gingerly on green, grassy earth. The dragon snorted, black smoke rolling from its nostrils as it padded across a cobblestone bridge that was arched over a crystal-clear stream. The rider smiled in a peaceful, familiar kind of way as the pair approached a house of whimsical proportions.

The cottage before the two was glorious, the front of the house encased and decorated by lush plants and vibrantly colored flowers. The exterior walls were a soft cream, and the shutters and roofing were a light, woody brown. The archway to the door was done in articulate pale cobblestone and the same design carried over to the chimney and the sides of the house. Quant, comfortable, and lovely... It was his destination. It was his home.

By now, the man had climbed off the dragon's back and was staring nervously at the entryway to his house, sweat starting to bead across his brow as he trembled in excitement. He gripped the reins tighter in his hand although his eyes never left the door. The great white beast rolled its emerald eyes in a good-natured way and nudged the young man forward by pressing its forehead to his back.

You must tell me how it goes then, came the smooth rumble from inside the dragon's chest, his lips moving swiftly as he spoke. His rich voice and soft, yet simple words seemed to comfort his rider. The man nodded and nervously hugged the broad head of the creature, holding him close for only a moment before letting go and ending the embrace.

Of course, Lorem, he whispered, looking into the beast's beautiful eyes before he released the reins and headed for the door. Do whatever you want but be back before too long, so I can take your bridle and saddle off. I hate keeping you tacked like one of the horses.

It's all in good meaning, Cade, the dragon, Lorem, said with a chuckle as he flapped his great wings and hovered for a few moments over the ground. Miss Cleo made it very clear that you are not to ride without a saddle until after your spine has healed. And we all know who the master of this house is! The dragon's rolling laughter echoed as he lifted higher and took off into the ensuing night.

The young man, Cade, watched his dear friend go with only a small, tired smile. Yes, she is the real master, isn't she? he murmured to himself before sliding a key into a slot below the doorknob.

He stepped inside a house that was beautifully furnished and well-kept. A small army of creatures would have usually run up to greet him- but not today. The furry occupants of the manor were preoccupied with other matters- more serious matters. Cade hung his lanyard on a nail by the door then headed slowly through the rooms in the house; passing through a delicate living area, climbing up a spiral staircase with iron rails and cherry-wood steps. He ran his fingers along the railing, tracing the walls as he went step by step. Finally, Cade stopped outside a grand oak door, noticing his animals were gathered there... Waiting.

A large, beautiful, dark tortoiseshell cat looked up at him with venom-green eyes that were gleaming with excitement. Her muzzle was pitch black but blazed by white, cream, and peach. The other animals were sitting away from her slightly, among them included a fluffy golden pup, two more tabby cats, and a snake coiled off in the corner. The tortoiseshell stood quickly on her back paws, which seemed to be quite a task as she was rather large for a she-cat, and pressed her dappled forepaws to Cade’s knee.

Master, we are so excited that you're home! She cried in a scratchy, exasperated voice. Oh, please! Go in so we may see! Isadora and Penny are the only ones she allowed inside- and the anticipation is simply killing us all! she cried as she dramatically flopped herself down across her owner’s shoe, a front paw draped over her head.

Cade smiled through his nervousness and patted the cat between her ears then apologized to the other animals as he pushed the unlocked door open and stepped inside the room. The bedroom behind the door was grand and lovely. The wooden floor was a dark cherry and was partially covered by a thick beige rug. And in the center of it all... was what his heart ached for most. In the middle of a king-sized bed, curled up under maroon satin sheets, there was a young woman.

She looked exhausted; her yellow-and-copper hair plastered to her forehead from sweat. Her naturally soft, elfish face was red from strain, her eyes bloodshot; the hazel-brown irises glossy with fatigue. At her side was a snowy white cat, the feline purring in her sleep, the soft pink pads pressed to the woman's neck. Laying at the foot of the bed was a shaggy black and brown dog, an old motherly type with Shepherd-like features. The canine lifted her head when her master entered, and she got to her paws in greeting.

Welcome home, m’lord. Come, come. Look. The old dog led Cade over to the bed, and her master climbed in beside his beloved, gently draping his arm over her shoulder. The young woman lifted her head weakly and offered him a tired smile.

Baby... she whispered in a hoarse voice as she kissed his cheek. I tried to wait for you... But she was ready...

I'm so sorry it took me so long, Cleo, he apologized quickly, nearly stumbling over his own tongue as the regret thickened in his voice. I got held up in a meeting and I didn’t get your message and Lorem was...

Shhh... she whispered, smiling at him again to tell him that it truly was okay. Here, sweetheart... She shifted, slowly and stiffly, and moved back the covers to reveal a tiny little bundle wrapped in a red towel. Cleo sat up slowly and rocked the precious creation in her arms, leaning her head on Cade’s shoulder as she gently nestled the baby against his broad chest. Say hello to your Daddy.

In that moment, Cade’s heart melted as he stared down at the perfect, cherub face. The newborn's cheeks were slightly red, ears ever so lightly pointed; attributes taken from the mother more so than him. Cade could see it, the resemblance between the two, and it just made his soul ache more to know that their child had his Cleo’s fairyan soul. Perfect. So sweet and little and... His. His baby. He held his beloved with one arm and tenderly held the infant to his chest with the other. Tears glossed his eyes, and a few even fell from his dark lashes and were splashed against the newborn's face.

My baby... he whispered softly, the new father kissing his precious baby girl gently on the nose. My sweet Malcom.

PARALLEL TO THE BIRTH of Malcom in the Mythical Realm, another part of the circle of life was beginning to unfold in a small town in Kentucky on Earth. A heavy heart palpation woke a mercilessly sick woman from her shallow slumber. Her sunken, dull eyes adjusted quickly to the dim yellow glow from her table-side lamp, though the light made the hollow lines on her face look deeper. Her paper-thin, eerily pale skin was nearly transparent as she brushed back a piece of her dying, faded sunset red hair. She coughed weakly and then her lungs made a terrible rattling sound as she struggled to regain her breath. She shook her head in dismay and agony, her mind foggy and will brittle. Her vision cleared slightly, and she seemed to regain a bit of herself as her pupils caught on something that filled her grim face with an expression of warmth and love.

Sprawled uncomfortably across a black leather visitation chair was her husband, James. He was a kind-looking man, with dark brown hair and a genuine smile. But for now, as he slept, his face seemed solemn and the woman couldn’t determine if it was from the awkward angle of his neck as it was craned across the chair-back or from legitimate concern. Perhaps it was both. A thin smile played across her chalk-white lips as he snored a few times before readjusting into a dreamy hush. The light sound of his heavy breathing nearly distracted her from the slow, agitating sound of the ever-beeping monitor of her heart. Almost. There was one thing, and only one thing, that truly took the pain and fear away. And he was nestled in the nook of her husband’s left arm.

He was only two. So small but so mature already. He knew so many words, so many songs. God, could he sing... Her son was unique and everyone who knew him knew that. He was so kind, polite, and wickedly smart for his age. He had fire red hair- the shade hers had been before she’d fallen ill- and an abundance of freckles across his face and neck. His eyes were as green as emeralds, like hers. Like her mother. Mother... The sick lady thought of her then and tears welled across the bridges of her thin lash-lines. Her mind went back to before... Before the accident. Before this place. Oh, how she longed for the kind spirit that had been her own mother. She missed her so deeply... Perhaps she would see her soon.

The near-silence became unbearable as she drowned in her thoughts and the beeping of the heart-monitor roared like a lion. The woman shifted in the uncomfortable ambience of ringing and breathing, and she covered her ears with her bony hands and curled up in a ball. Veiled by thin, white hospital blankets, she began to cry. Her body ached. Her bones throbbed, her organs burned, her blood seemed to turn to ice in her veins. The pain was incredible. It was her curse, her physical form tearing itself to shreds without a source to sustain it. She could feel her heart trying to give out, beating weaker and weaker with every moment. And the infernal beep, beep, beep of the monitor- slower and slower each time. Slower, slower, slower... Beep, beep, beep...

Momma? the tiny voice broke the spell from the machine. At an excruciating pace, she unfolded carefully from her cocoon of torment and noise and found herself nose-to-nose with the last strong piece of her heart. He was yawning and rubbing his tired eyes, his flame-colored locks spiked in all directions from the wallowing he did in his slumber. She smiled at him and patted the space beside her. He climbed into the bed with an enthusiastic speed that his mother envied and she took him in her cold, thin arms and kissed the top of his head.

Hey, angel-face. Did I wake you? she whispered, her head atop his as she rubbed his arm and breathed in the sweet smell of little boy and sugar cookies.

No. I had a bad dream.

Oh? What about?

I don’t remember, he said in a sleepy voice, trying to comfortably nestle in but finding it impossible against his mother’s skeleton-like figure. I just know it was scary... he sniffled back tears but was being eased by her tender touch.  Momma, he murmured as he closed his heavy eyelids. Tell me a story.

Oh, my fawn. What do you want to hear this time? she asked in a husky voice as she felt his strong, steady heartbeat against her ribcage.

About the night... I like that one...

Ah. Alright then... she hugged him closer, as close as she could get. In the back of her mind, she was aware of the disgusting, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor slowing down even further. She kissed the top of her son’s head. The Moon has loved Mother Earth for as long as time has existed. But the two can never be together, as the Moon must stay in the sky to protect the Heavens and Mother Earth must be where she is because she takes care of us and everything that lives. So, the Moon created... she paused as her throat constricted and she had to cough- something that was so painful she nearly wept. She constructed herself and continued, feeling herself grow weaker still. So the Moon created the stars as a gift to Earth. She loved them so much that she made mountains that would reach up so high that the Moon could dance across their great peaks. Sometimes the Moon sends down stars that we call comets, more gifts to Earth. And Earth keeps them close forever... she trailed as she heard the soft sounds of her son’s snoring. Tears glossed the frail woman’s eyes and she kissed the top of his head again. Once, twice... A tear fell on the third kiss. And you would have to look very hard to have seen it... But the third time her lips met her son’s scalp, a bright spark of white light sept from her mouth into his red, messy locks. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Of little boy and sugar cookies.

Beep... beep... ... b...

And then there was nothing. Nothing at all.

1

[A Grand Day]

Malcom! Wake up! Came a sickeningly sweet, slightly nasally voice as a snowy white cat leaped up from a thick, blue shaggy carpet. The feline promptly landed atop a snoring mound underneath a mass of burgundy bedding. Something buried in the blankets groaned and shoved itself deeper under a pile of pillows, trying to ignore the pestering feline as she prodded and poked at various spots in the plushy sheets.

This was a very special day and the young master had slept long past her waking time- something made horribly apparent by the harsh rays of dimming sunlight that were beaming in from the curtain-drawn window. Isadora, the cat, took a mouthful of the comforter in her teeth and began to step backwards, pulling the cover off what lay buried beneath it. Underneath the layers of fabric, a single figure clad in a baggy gray t-shirt groaned in resistance and curled up further beneath the bolster, attempting to shield her eyes from the bright declaration of the new day. The feline rolled her eyes and rubbed herself against the back of the Mythic’s leg, purring as her yellow gaze slid over the young lady with warm affection. "Masterrr. Your father wants you awake!"

Too early... Malcom groaned, shrugging her shoulders, and kicking her legs in an attempt to try and knock the cat away from her, but the feline held firm and laughed at the half-given effort. Instead of surrendering, Isadora leaped again atop Malcom’s side and began pacing the full length of her owner’s torso.

"It is not by any means early, young master! It’s a few hours shy of nighttime now and your father wants for you to be..."

Izzy, get off! A yowl of surprise ripped from the white cat’s lungs as the young woman suddenly sat up-right, wiping a bit of drool from the left side of her lip as a tangle of bronze curls fell around her shoulders in unorganized, matted springs. Pillows and stuffed animals went flying in all directions as Malcom stretched and yawned. She swung her legs off the edge of the bed, her toes sinking into the soft, grass-like blue carpet that was extended across most of her bedroom floor.

It was hard to see the girl’s face, as it was mostly covered by the untamed mess of curls from atop her head. She had to push a large wave of them out of her eyes to be able to see as she stood and stretched once more. Izzy laughed at the state of her and purred, running around Malcom in excited circles as the young lady headed across the room to a sandalwood vanity. She snatched a wide brush off the top and began to comb the knots out of her hair, wincing as the bristles dragged through a snarl. She patted the top of the feline’s head as she threw open the doors to a massive wardrobe with just the wiggle of her nose.

Alright, let’s see... Malcom left the brush in her hair for a moment as she began to thumb through different articles of multicolored hangers. She pushed aside a large assortment of women’s clothing which included dresses, skirts, petite button-ups, and curve-fitting blue jeans and began to pick through an arrangement of more masculine articles. She had just settled on a blue and black flannel shirt when the fast patter of feet made her quickly turn on her toes just as the door to her bedroom came bursting open.

MALCOMMALCOM! The squeal echoed through the entire house as a blur of energy came crashing into the young Mythic’s quarters. Malcom and her mother went tumbling together, head over heels, sprawling onto the cushiony carpet below. Cleo let out a few happy trills and laughed as she wrapped her arms around her daughter’s neck and squeezed Malcom’s head into the valley of her chest. Wake up! Well, you are awake but... Wake up anyway! Happy, happy, happy birthday!

Malcom muttered something incoherent into her mother's breasts, trying to squirm and inch her way out of Cleo’s grasp. The pretty fairy just tightened her grip and sighed happily, kissing the top of her daughter’s frizzy head, careful to dodge the hairbrush that was still lodged there. Come on, my sweet baby. Up, up! Your daddy's got a surprise for you. Cleo jumped to her feet and shook her body to try and calm down her excitement, shifting her weight from foot to foot as the sunlight caught off her skin and lit the room in rays of glitter. As the two laughed and smiled at each-other, Izzy tilted her head, admiring how the two generations looked so much alike now that Malcom had grown.

Cleo and her daughter shared many characteristics; both naturally beautiful in simply extravagant ways- as most Mythics usually were. Cleo was almost overbearingly lovely but was so without trying, while Malcom had plain, more subtle features. Her mother had hair that was short and kept in a clean, slightly edgy pixie cut with bangs that reached her forehead but were never allowed to pass her ears. The strands of hair were loose curls and often fell in soft, ‘s’ like springs. Malcom’s hair was much longer than it appeared and fell to below her shoulders. When tamed, however, the strands were so tightly-sprung with spirals of copper and bronze that it seemed inches shorter than it was. While Cleo’s hair was sandy blonde with brown roots, her daughter inherited the totality of the chocolate hue. Both had Fairyan-based, smooth facial structure with high set, subtle cheek bones and slightly pointed ears. Cleo’s lips were a soft shade of rosy pink and her eyes were the most beautiful hazelnut brown while Malcom’s lips were earth colored and she had her father’s bright blue eyes.

The two sat on the floor for several minutes, laughing and talking about plans for the day; their many differences forgotten. It was moments like this that almost made Malcom feel close to her mother. Almost... She shook her head and let the apprehensive thoughts slip away as she brushed the remaining knots out of her hair. After she was satisfied with the result, she snapped her fingers and was dressed instantly in the dark flannel she had chosen moments before her mother’s intrusion. Her hair tamed itself, untangling and relaxing until each strand was curled individually and perfectly into a lovely bundle of a thousand bronze ringlets. Black cargo shorts appeared around her waist, fitted in place by a white and navy checkered belt that matched a pair of dark blue bangles around her wrist. Her face printed with the subtlest amounts of makeup; a thin bit of jet-black eyeliner and midnight dark mascara. Cleo stopped talking as her daughter’s appearance changed in seconds, looking less like the young, sleepy teen she had been a few minutes ago and now like a full-grown woman. Malcom offered her mother a small smile and got to her feet, pulling the paler fairy up in the process. But just as she was about to say more, her mother shook her head and began to pull her from her room.

"Enough chatter. Your father will wonder if we’ve gotten lost in the corridors again. Close your eyes and no peeking! It’s time for your surprise." With a sigh, Malcom closed her eyes tightly and timidly began to walk after Cleo as she dragged her out of her comfortable space with Izzy following excitedly behind.

Keep them closed, Mal! her mother chirped over her shoulder as she led her child outside the house. Malcom stepped lightly, nervous when her toes felt live grass and then stone as her mother dragged her across the rock-laden bridge in the front yard.

Mom, I don't feel safe...

Oh, trust your mother! Cade laughed from where he was with his child's birthday surprise a few yards away, eagerness dying his mood-changing eyes a light, robin-egg blue. A smile lit up his face as his wife brought the young girl to a halt then scurried over to her husband, so they could reveal the gift.

Alright. Cleo clasped her hands together and brought them to her mouth, trembling with excitement. Open up.

Malcom carefully opened one eye and then the other, her pupils taking a few moments to adjust to the harsh sunlight. She winced and rubbed her eyes with her fists before blinking again so she could try and see properly. And then... It hit her. Malcom gasped and took a step back, slapping her hands over her mouth as her eyes and brain finally registered what it was that she was seeing.

Daddy! Oh... Y-You got me a dragon?! She squealed, unable to believe it as tears welled in her eyes. Standing beside her mother and father, there was possibly the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. It was just too good to be true! The dragon was a female, she could tell by the structure of her body. She was smaller and more slender built than most of her kind so Malcom figured she was a foreign or rare breed. Her scales were a deep, beautiful metallic silver and her wings were breathtaking. And as for her eyes? She had never seen a dragon with orange eyes before. This creature was just the most incredible thing she had ever laid eyes on. And she couldn't believe that she was actually hers! Her own dragon!

"We got you a dragon, Cleo chuckled, correcting her daughter's previous excluding statement. And yes, my love. Isn't she beautiful? Come get acquainted!"

What's your name, gorgeous? Malcom asked the beautiful beast as she tiptoed over to her and gently, slowly reached out to touch her muzzle. The she-dragon purred against her touch and she chuckled about the girl’s excitement as she nuzzled into the palm of her hand.

"Surrexit Argento," she told her new master with a smile as she lifted her head and nuzzled Malcom’s cheek with her cold, hard nose. Surrex for short.

Surrex... I love it. Silver Rose, she translated, trying to loosely recall the basics of Dracixtongue. It suits you... she whispered, wrapping her arms around the beast’s neck to pull her into a hug. Surrex raised her head, lifting Malcom off her feet for a moment. Once her toes were back on land, she released her new companion to hug both of her parents. Mom, Dad... Thank you... So much. I'll take good care of her and I'll...

Respect her, Cade cut her off with his usual, calm, monotone voice. Dragons are the most majestic beings of our world. We may be Mythics and we may be their riders, but they are to be ultimately respected within our culture. Never forget who is over you or you...

"Will end up beneath them, I know, Daddy," Malcom chuckled, hugging her father tightly before wiping away the tears in her eyes. The two of them had always had a special connection... Always. Malcom sighed happily once more then released her parents and looked up at