Chapter 6: Happy Birthday

As I recall, it all happened on my birthday.

It all happened on Ryan’s tenth birthday. A few weeks had passed since Éclair had left Toramirese colony, and things seemed to be normal. Ryan and Henry were engaged in a fierce battle with the new wooden swords that Ryan had gotten for his birthday.

Ryan was in his element. He may not have been much good at that Kung-Fu stuff like the other Elf children, but he knew he was born to wield the blade. As Ryan turned his back to swing, Henry made a sneaky attack at his blind spot, but alas, the Elf had no gift for subtlety. With a slight flick of his wrist, Ryan parried Henry’s attack instinctively.

Ryan then used his slightly greater height to his advantage, aiming quick thrusts at Henry’s torso which the Elf blocked with difficulty. This pleased Ryan. It soon became obvious that Ryan had the advantage as he forced the Elf to retreat during a spinning slash on a pirouette. It felt like there was something inside Ryan’s head telling him what to do. An old and hungry instinct.

Just as Ryan raised his arm back to score a hit, his mother cried out from a distance, “The cake’s done!”

The prospect of food turned Ryan’s head, allowing Henry to disarm him and give him a good thwack on the arm for good measure.

Ryan was outraged. “Hey, that doesn’t count! I was distracted by the promise of sustenance!”

“And that is why you fail, human,” said Henry, beaming with pride.

“Grr cawawaka,” cursed Ryan in his nonsense language that he used sometimes as he rubbed his arm where Henry whacked him. “You Elves don’t do anything small. Even when you beat me, you gotta make it hurt.”

“If I had a credit every time you said that, human,” said Henry with a laugh as he tossed his wooden sword to the ground and headed towards the Tower of Festivities.

Ryan turned to his father for support. “That wasn’t fair, and you know it, dad. I mean, don’t the Earth-Dragons believe in honor in battle?”

Richard seemed deep in thought as he paused for a moment before responding. “You’re right, Ryan. The Wingless Dragons do value honor above all else. But you have to remember that it was you who allowed yourself to get distracted, and that’s why Henry won. The thing you need to know, son, is that life isn’t always as fair like in the stories I tell you, and you need to be prepared for whatever reality may throw at you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ryan’s father smiled almost sadly. “I think you’ll understand when you’re older, son. Let’s just enjoy the here and now. I think mom got you a special cake this year.”

Quickly forgetting his father’s forlorn demeanor, Ryan dashed off to the Tower. He soon passed the Elf and shouted excitedly, “Come on, Henry! First one there gets the biggest piece!”

“You just want to race because of the biological advantage that comes with your longer legs,” complained Henry, though he still kept stride behind Ryan.

Ryan and Henry raced to the large, white tree with no leaves that sat at the center of the colony called the Tower of Festivities, a veritable tourist trap of the Elven colony. The tree had been carved out completely hollow on the inside, with a large, spiral staircase that went all the way to the top where the party awaited.

Ryan’s parents had been saving for years to rent the pavilion at the top of the tower, giving the attendees a clear view of the entire colony. Ryan was rarely even allowed inside the tower, let alone on the top. Besides Henry, quite a few Elf children had come to the celebration, and even some of the grown-up Elves. Even though Ryan’s only real friend was Henry, the Elf children never missed one of his birthdays, and he always attended their birthday parties in turn. It was kind of a community thing among Elves for every child’s birthday to be celebrated by everyone in the near vicinity, at least until the child came of age; though for Elves, that term tended to vary. Though there were many things that baffled Ryan about Elven ways, the way they treated birthdays always warmed his heart. It was certainly preferable to the way some of the human colonists would just ignore birthdays in general.

The party games involved the usual fare; dragon-shaped pinatas full of celery, pinning the tail on the giant tomato, that sort of thing. But best of all was the water plum fight. Similar in practice to a snowball fight, a plum fight involved giant, purple plums grown especially by the Elves for the sole purpose of detonation. The plums exploded in a shower of gooey jelly upon impact, making for a messy and delicious sport. The plums grew from special branches atop the Tower which instantly replenished themselves after being plucked, giving the children an unlimited supply.

Even though it cost him dearly during the game, Ryan sometimes liked to watch as he picked a plum from the vines only for an identical one to grow back seconds later, expanding like a balloon until it reached full size. Richard, Brianna, and Henry were on Ryan’s team in an all-out assault against the other Elf children. Ryan couldn’t remember laughing so hard as his dad got nailed in the face with a particularly ripe plum, soaking the last bit of untouched clothing. Ryan’s mother, pasted in goo herself, wiped a finger across Richard’s brow and they shared a laugh.

As Ryan and Henry advanced on the other children, already drenched to the bone in jelly themselves, Richard suddenly stopped, putting a hand to his temple to accept a call. “Sorry, this isn’t a good time ... Zand! Hold on, let me get somewhere private!” Richard turned to his wife as if asking permission.

Brianna sighed, wiping some goo from her face. “Just please make it brief.”

Richard nodded, ruffling Ryan’s hair before heading off down the stairs.

“Dad,” called Ryan. “You’re coming back, right?”

“Of course, son,” said Richard with a wave. “I just need a moment, and then I’ll be right back.”

Ryan looked up to his mother in disappointment and concern. “What’s going on?”

Brianna smiled reassuringly through the jelly and said, “It’s nothing to worry about, dear. Just an old friend checking in. Why don’t we get cleaned up so we can open your presents?”

I wonder if it’s the same guy that Éclair went with. Nah! That’s silly! That guy was rich. Rich people don’t talk to poor people like my dad. Even if he is great, he’s still poor, though he always says he’s rich in the ways that matter.

The great thing about water plum jelly was that it came off instantly when introduced to water, a useful design on the part of the Elves. After a quick shower from the water hoses stationed around the tower, Brianna and all the children were clean as a whistle in time for the presents.

“Open mine first, Ryan,” begged Henry, giving a rare display of childish glee as he practically bounced on his heels.

Ryan complied, tearing at the leaf-made paper that hid a very large present, almost as tall as Henry himself. Ryan wondered how the Elf managed to get it up the tower with his diminutive frame. The leaf coverings gave way to reveal a long wooden box painted black with a single phrase written on top. As he focused on the title, Ryan almost laughed out loud.

“Universal Theory,” groaned Ryan with a wry smile. “Henry, you shouldn’t have.”

“I know,” exclaimed Henry merrily. “Isn’t it great?!”

No, I mean you really shouldn’t have, thought Ryan while maintaining a polite smile.

“Now we can play all the time, even when Uncle Kazz is away.”

“Yay,” muttered Ryan under his breath.

The other presents were a little less disappointing. A few new holomovies from Richard, some action figures from Brianna, and an assortment of fruits and vegetables from the other Elf children. Though the Elves’ predilection of wrapping up pumpkins and calling them presents frustrated Ryan on previous birthdays, he had to admit that these were preferable to Henry’s gift. As Ryan came to the last gift, he couldn’t help but notice his father’s sustained absence.

“He’s still not back yet, mom.”

Brianna smiled sadly and rubbed Ryan’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. There’s one last present that he wants to give to you specially. But for now, why don’t you unwrap that one there? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

Not wanting to make a scene despite his curiosity, Ryan obediently began to unravel his next present. He gasped in astonishment at the beautiful, wooden carving of a Space Dragon. Ryan always held a special fascination with the mystical race of the Dragons, especially with his father’s stories.

For Ryan, the Dragons were a symbol of everything that he loved about life: mystery, adventure, and the Elemental Ministries. It was said that the Dragons possessed Elemency long before any other race, and that they helped the founders of the human Elementals get the Ministries established many thousands of years ago. And the fact that Ryan and his father were kind of related to Dragons made them seem like kin to Ryan.

The little Dragon statue was so finely polished that it sparkled softly in the sunlight, much like Ryan’s scales. The design and craftsmanship seemed so fine that Ryan knew his mother must’ve spent weeks working on it. Even though he had never seen a real Dragon in his life, the carving held such detail and beauty that he couldn’t imagine a live Dragon being any more beautiful. Every curve in the muscles, every shape of the spikes, fangs, and claws ... Ryan could only describe it as a masterpiece.

Even more incredible was the wood the carving came from high oak. Wood of such quality that it could come from no other place in the universe besides the capital of Shakarass, the High Elven City. High oak was a jealously guarded secret by the High Elves that ruled the planet. Only those with special connections to the High Elves could even get their hands on it, and even then it didn’t come cheap.

All the Elves gasped visibly, even Henry. Old Alexander leaned forward from the gathered Elves and nodded approvingly. “High oak. A rare commodity. The High Elves look favorably upon your family, Mrs. Uruks. I hope you appreciate the lengths your mother must’ve gone through to make a carving of such fine material, young Ryan. Even senior Elves like me have difficulty shaping high oak.

“Though the universe has been cultivated through science and technology, there are still places where magic holds sway over science. The Elven capital is one such place. By entrusting your family with such a pure branch, the High Elves entrust the very soul of Shakarass to you, my boy ... a prestige usually reserved for only our closest allies among the Ministries. You should feel honored.”

“Oh, I-I do,” stuttered Ryan nervously. “I really do! This is the greatest thing anyone has ever given me in my life! So great ... that ... that I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Old Alexander smiled down at Ryan, and for once, didn’t seem so grumpy. “Your humility tells me that you do deserve it. My blessings on you and your family, young Uruks.”

“Well done, human,” whispered Henry as he patted Ryan on the back.

Brianna nodded appreciatively to Alexander. “Thank you for your words, wise one. I’m sure my son will take them to heart.”

Ryan’s mother gently cradled the sacred object in Ryan’s hands and took a knee. “The Dragon race is the embodiment of exploration and adventure. Just as they have helped us humans understand the wonders of this universe, so too will you one day unravel its mysteries for yourself. This is my gift to you, Ryan, with all my love and with all my heart.

“I call it ‘Heart-Ache,’ for it is also a symbol of your parents’ love for you, and that when you feel pain, so do we. In other words, our hearts ache for you. Let it be a reminder to you that no matter what happens, no matter where you are or what you’re going through, we will always be with you in your heart every step of the way.”

Ryan couldn’t help getting a little teary-eyed as he embraced his mother and whispered, “Thanks, mom. Thank you so much for everything.” Ryan conveyed all his affection and gratitude to his mom in a single hug.

Don’t judge me, thought Ryan as the Elves watched him curiously. It’s not like I’m made of stone, you know.

Ryan then appraised the mystical, wooden Dragon and it did the most amazing thing. The Dragon flapped its wooden wings and flew out of Ryan’s hand to circle over his palms as puffs of smoke fizzled out of its nostrils. The other children started laughing at the sight of the wooden creature and Ryan did as well, that is until he saw his mother’s face. She gaped at the carving hovering in Ryan’s hands with a look that could only be described as pure terror.

Before Ryan could ask her what was wrong, a shadow passed over his head. To his amazement, dark shapes had suddenly appeared above the colony. Judging from the statue, and the pictures he’d seen as a child, these flying creatures couldn’t be anything else but real Dragons. Young Ryan almost burst out laughing, thinking that this must’ve been orchestrated by his parents, that is until he looked more closely at the visitors.

These weren’t like the Space Dragons that his father had told him about. First of all, their scales were pitch black, not golden, green, or brown, and they had a much fiercer appearance about them than ordinary Space Dragons. Ryan didn’t know how else to describe it; though the Dragons that his father spoke of were fierce too, they also felt kindly and safe.

But these creatures made Ryan feel anything but safe. They had yellow and red eyes of such hungry quality that Ryan felt like a rabbit being surrounded by hawks. The Dragons came in various sizes; most were a little bigger than a man, but the larger ones were comparable to mammoths. Their wings flapped prominently on their shoulders, leaving four limbs with razor-sharp talons dangling beneath them. Their long, barbed tails writhed to and fro like whips. So far, they seemed content to just circle the colony silently, almost as if awaiting some kind of signal.

Laughter among the children died. Everyone all over the colony stopped their work and just stared up at the threatening creatures with terrified awareness. No one screamed, no one moved, almost like the instinct to remain motionless when confronted by a snake. Despite the fact that Ryan had never seen Dragons in his life and he knew that he should be excited, in his heart he only felt fear ... the kind of fear that came with the knowledge of impending and unavoidable doom. Young Ryan tried to summon the courage to move, to run away, to do something, but his fear left him paralyzed. It wasn’t just the Dragons that elicited such terror in his being, but the sheer presence of something even more sinister at work.

I can’t run! I can’t speak! I can’t even move! I’m petrified!

The sky went dark as great storm clouds suddenly appeared above the trees, blocking out the light from the mirrors. It seemed like an eternity of waiting when it finally happened, when he heard the bone-chilling roar that tore through the clouds and shook the ground. A roar so loud and so painful that everyone had to cover their ears, and even then Ryan felt blood trickle down from his eardrums. Brianna knelt down, covering Ryan and Henry as they cringed in her arms. Trees bent outwards as a great wind ripped across the colony with the roar, and the leaves eddied all around the tower.

Make it stop! Make it stop, repeated Ryan over and over as the pain became unbearable.

When the sound finally subsided, they descended. The signal had been given. Then came the screams. All across the colony, Ryan’s neighbors were systematically slaughtered one by one. It was madness, pure unadulterated destruction of life. Hundreds met their deaths at once from the Black Dragons’ first wave alone. People ran for cover, ran for shelter, ran to protect their loved ones, but futilely so. Nothing could stop a Black Dragon on the hunt.

From his perch high atop the Tower, Ryan saw little pockets of resistance all across the colony, Elven guards with energy guns and special spears made from high oak. To his amazement, a few Elves summoned the plants to come to their aid. In all Ryan’s years living at the colony, he’d never seen Elemency in use, let alone known of Elves who could use it. The Elves used vines from trees to ensnare and strangle the intruders; others caused giant thorns to grow from the ground and impale them.

But as good as the Elven Warriors were, the Black Dragons were even better. There was one more noticeable difference between Space Dragons and these dark monsters. Instead of breathing fire, these Dragons breathed lightning. Great torrents of electric volts illuminated the darkened landscape, incinerating the Elven defenders.

Everywhere Ryan looked, Elven warriors fell to the brutal attacks of the Black Dragons, either from electricity or from fangs. Whenever the defenders managed to kill a few of the Dragons, ten more would swoop down from the sky to take their place. The Black Dragons were as frightening as they were ruthless. With deadly accuracy, the invaders sent down their electric attacks and killed Elves by the dozens.

There seemed to be a limit to their lightning reserves as many would swoop down and kill their victims hand-to-hand. This they did by a number of varying methods, each more gruesome than the last. Some of the bigger ones would simply pick up a screaming Elf or human, soar high into the sky and then drop their squirming victim.