OneTwoThree

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Something was wrong.

All should have been silent, and he should have been at peace. But he definitely was not. And it definitely wasn’t silent.

The voices seemed to come from a long way off at first, as though from the edge of a dream. Then he became aware of the unpleasant prickling upon his scales, and suddenly the voices seemed much louder in their clarity.

“C’mon, you slob, we gotta get moving!”

“Hey...hello? Are you awake?”

“He’s awake, I can feel it! C’mon, Sleeping Beauty, your fluttering eyelids ain’t fooling anyone.”

He knew then that there was no point in pretending. He opened his eyes. And stared, aghast, at the faces that swam into view.

“There’s something wrong with my eyes.” He kept blinking, wondering if his vision was distorted somehow—nothing could be so hideous! What made it worse was that they looked...

They looked like...

“What’re you looking at?” spat the one on his left. Literally spat: It sprayed lurid pink slobber over him as it spoke.

He flinched away, bumped into the head on his right side. It smiled glassily at him, its eyes gleaming like full moons. “Are we ready to go?” it slurred.

“C’mon, we’re hungry,” they chorused in perfect, horrid harmony, just as his stomach lurched.

He was dry-heaving as he stood up. Dried blood cascaded in flakes off his flanks. And worse, there was so much worse, unspeakable things that cracked and squelched beneath his feet.

He had to get away. And so he kept on moving, even as each head on either side of him kept on chattering, one pleased that he was finally on his feet, the other haranguing him to go faster.

He was soon well away from the charnel wasteland he had once called home. But the others remained a part of him—as they had always been.

~ ~ ~
It took much time for him to get accustomed to his new form. It demanded tremendous amounts of sustenance, and his days were largely consumed by the need to feed.

When full consciousness returned, he found that he was no longer in lands that were familiar. He stopped, slack-jawed with confusion. His other heads turned to stare at him.

“Move, you moron! We gotta keep moving!”

“I...don’t know where I am.” He hadn’t spoken in days, and his voice was dusty from lack of use. The left-hand head responded with a screeching, derisive laugh.

“Lost? Pal, that’s the least of our worries. You wanna get moving before something else finds us?”

“Like what? We’re alone out here. We always are.” The right-hand head drooped morosely. And then it jerked back with a yelp as the opposite head snapped at it. “Suck it up! We can barely think over the sound of your whining!”

“J...Just...enough!” Memories were slowly dropping back into his mind. He remembered running, even flying for stretches of time, while the world flickered past him. Creatures running past his toes. Larger ones. Other dragons...

He swallowed hard, forcing back the gorge that rose in his throat. The right-hand head looked kindly at him. “Now, they weren’t all bad.”

“Yeah, they were pretty tasty,” the left said with a snicker. The right gave him a withering look. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Won’t you just...be quiet?” he whispered from between them. He was stumbling forward again, instinctively trying to run from them—never mind that they were attached to him, and always would be...

“Quiet?! Why, I oughta...” But the rest of the left head’s words stayed unspoken. His eyes moved, staring past the others, and they felt the faint, chilling tingle that warned them they were being watched.

Warily, they turned.

They’d taken her for some grotesque mess of fungi at first: all tatters and wisps and latticed webs, so riddled with holes that there didn’t seem to be any room for life inside. But there was—of a sort.

And now they saw the gleam of her eyes. A scarlet glow—and so intense was the hunger within that even the Emperor was stunned into silence. The moment they met her gaze, their ravenousness was totally eclipsed by terror.

“Poor sheep. Poor lost sheep...”

The voice crackled out of the air. The Skydancer unfurled her wings in short, jerky motions, rattling audibly all the while. One hand beckoned towards them, the claws curling with those same jittery movements.

“Come.”

“Uhh...no,” the right and middle heads chorused. Their legs trembled as they lurched backwards; curse how tired they suddenly were! The left head was sputtering incoherently, wads of drool gurgling from his mouth.

“Come...home.”

She tottered closer. The weak sunlight played over her skinless face, the rows of jagged teeth. The claws stretched towards the Emperor. He noted with horrified fascination how they glowed with lurid red light.

“Mother sends her love. Sends me to deliver...her love.” The Skydancer’s ribcage expanded visibly as she breathed—or pantomimed breathing. “Sends me...to deliver you...home.”

“FLAP OFF!” And the left head spat—a huge glob of pink drool, almost large enough to engulf the skeletal Skydancer.

It hit her with a loud splat, and the Emperor was running even before she hit the ground. They heard her convulsing behind them, the squelching noise horribly underlaid by the rattling of her body. And more hideous still, her voice: pleading with them to come back to “Mother”, to accompany her home. They would be a family again! They would live in love and harmony...

“Who was that?!” he choked out later on, long after the Skydancer’s cries had faded into the distance. The left head snarled again. “Some nutcase. Did you hear what she was yammering about?”

“Something about going home?”

“Pfft, as if we would’ve gone anywhere with a creep like her.”

The middle head frowned. “How d’you think she would have gotten us there?”

This caused a thoughtful pause. The three of them considered it, and then they started to snicker.

“Would she have hauled us back by the tail?”

“I’d like to see her try! Those skinny arms of hers would pop right off!”

“Or I could just hawk another spitball at her, hah...!”

The Emperor lumbered on, and though the three heads kept on chattering, there was less acrimony between them now. They still looked back from time to time, wary that the hideous Skydancer would reappear.

Fortunately, she didn’t.

~ ~ ~
They met other dragons on their wanderings. Most of these, they frightened away. Others were...Well, the middle and the right heads learned not to think too deeply about them.

When they were sated—which actually happened quite often now; they had become adept at finding things to eat—they talked among themselves. Their voices traveled some distance, and one day lured another dragon closer.

“She’s still watching us. I can see her eyes beneath that rug she’s wearing!”

“Ignore her,” muttered the middle one. He was concentrating on moving their feet correctly, trying to keep well ahead of the Guardian. She had popped up some minutes ago atop an adjacent dune, and she now slunk across it, keeping pace with them. Judging by how she was practically crawling across the ground, she was stalking them—or at least she thought she was.

“Can’t ogle us if she doesn’t have any eyes,” the left growled. He flexed their claws suggestively.

“We’re not hungry.”

“We don’t always have to eat them, you know? Let’s just...show ’em it’s rude to stare.”

The right gasped. “She’s coming this way!”

Indeed, the Guardian was bounding down the dune now. The left hissed, “Yes, that’s right. Come closer...The hell?!”

He trailed off into incoherent gurgles. The others stared too—for as the Guardian approached, they saw the machinery gleaming beneath her pelt, cylinders and pistons where musculature should be.

Suddenly, the Emperor was uneasy. They remembered the monstrous Skydancer who had accosted them before. They could almost hear her voice scratching the air: “Mother has sent this one...after you...!”

“HELLO!” the Guardian bellowed—in a bright, happy voice that caused all three heads to flinch in pure shock. They had expected hostility, a challenge of some sort.

And furthermore— “It’s a kid!” the left exploded, his eyes rolling crazily. “Nothing but a damned kid! C’mere, you stinking brat. I’ll give you such a smack—”

But the others were still stunned, almost dazed, by the Guardian’s attitude. Despite her nightmarish appearance, she was bounding around them with all the exuberance of a playful puppy. The eyes that had previously seemed so predatory were alight with excitement.

“I’ve never seen you before. You’re a stranger here! Are there really three of you, or just one?”

“Errrgh...” The Emperor hadn’t considered that question before. It stirred up some unpleasant memories....

“I’m Flux, by the way. Oh, awesome, you’re really attached to each other! I thought you might be mach...mecha...y’know, metal. Like me.”

“No, and thank goodness for that.”

The middle and right heads cringed inwardly. Despite being smaller than they were, the Guardian still looked strong enough to severely wound them. Her claws in particular looked deadly.

But she took no offense. She giggled even as the left continued spewing invectives, getting viler and viler with every pronouncement. Soon she was sprawled on the sand, laughing uproariously, heedless of the drool raining around her.

“If you don’t shut it, I’ll—OW!” The left head snarled as he was butted by the middle one. It looked as if all three of them would get into a neck-wrestling match, but they stopped as Flux rolled to her feet, spraying sand over them. She was still wheezing with laughter; the insults had clearly been ineffective.

“You’re funny! I know words like that too, stuff like...” She spooled off some curses that made the Emperor blanch. Except the left head, who sneered at her. “Weak.”

“I know. I’ve tried asking other dragons about more words,” and she pouted, “but Mamba says I shouldn’t. Says I should stay away...”

“Who’s Mamba?” the right head asked. At this, she brightened up again.

“Mamba’s the best! The cleverest! She’s a little scary...OK, maybe a lot scary. But I think she doesn’t always mean it, you know?” Flux craned her head forward. “Let’s go and see her! I think she’ll say you’re very interesting too.”

“‘Interesting’ how?” the Emperor asked. But he was moving, trudging slowly after the Guardian like a balloon on a string.

“Well, you’ve got three heads! And you all do different things, and say different things, and...Wait, those colorful words earlier! I must know. Tell me again, wouldja? Pretty please?”

~ ~ ~
In the shadow of a rocky overhang, Mamba sat. It was always difficult to tell what the Skydancer was thinking. She had learned to suppress emotions even long before most of her had been replaced by mirrored metal.

She said nothing when she felt the footsteps resounding through the sand. Nothing when the Emperor appeared, dwarfing the still-chattering Flux. Nothing when the Guardian bounded up to her, bellowing her name.

“Mamba! Mambaaaa! Don’t worry, new friend, she’s like that sometimes. She can stare at nothing for hours!”

Even the left head had to admit that that was a noteworthy—if unnerving—ability.

“Mamba, this is my new friend! Or, um...friends? He’s got three heads. Anyway, he’s really nice, and I learned lots of things already! He taught me how to say...”

Flux let flow a torrent of curses that would have turned a flock of Coatls pale. Then, and only then, did Mamba turn. Her piercing gaze paused briefly on Flux, who was entirely unfazed, before focusing on the Emperor.

Her stare lingered a little too long. His feet shuffled restlessly. His eyes stared fixedly above her head as if he were trying to ignore her—and clearly failing.

“An Emperor.” Her voice was cold, dry, and dusty. Somehow, in those two words, she managed to cram the idea that he was the first one she’d ever seen, and life would be so much better if only she hadn’t. In fact, that could still be remedied if she didn’t have to continue looking at him, starting now.

The Emperor began to shrink before that withering gaze. But Flux, who was clearly immune, wailed, “No, you can’t send him away!”

“‘Can’t’?” Again, with just the briefest syllable, Mamba’s disdain poured forth in waves. Flux stubbornly planted herself before the Skydancer, feet braced as though against a landslide.

“I like him! He’s nice, and he talks to me, and I like the three heads! He’s so interesting! Pleeeeaaaase, can we take him?”

“Take me where?” the right head asked. He still wilted a bit as Mamba looked at him, but managed to smile.

“Nowhere.” The answer came after a silence that seemed just a beat longer than necessary. Mamba rasped, “This child and I are nomads. We roam the wasteland freely. We call no place home.”

“It’s fun!” Flux bobbed her head eagerly. “Come on, come with us, pleeeaase! I know Mamba’s acting all huffy, but she’s really nice, I swear!”

“Well...”

The left head blinked. “You’re not actually thinking about this?!”

The other two frowned at him. Ignoring Flux’s babbling and Mamba’s steely silence, they moved a short distance away and hunkered down. The left head muttered, “Imagine slogging for miles and miles with that non-stop yapping in our ears. We’ll go insane!”

“I think we already are,” the middle head sighed. The left one snarled, “Well, aren’t you a bloody ray of sunshine.”

“I don’t know...I think it isn’t all bad. See, Flux has calmed down now.” The right was nodding, but he seemed more somber than usual.

“Mamba can control her, and...ooh, fine. I don’t like being alone anymore.”

“What?!”

“It’s quiet. It’s so quiet...” The eyes, like huge, round moons, stared fixedly into the distance. The others slowly quieted down, and together, they remembered—

The silence, deafening. Dried blood caking their scales. The stink of burning flesh; and the soft sigh, the whisper, of once-living things being squelched beneath their weight...

They talked further together, the three of them, about what might happen if they took up Flux’s offer. They argued among themselves, they debated the pros and cons.

But most of all, they remembered...

“We would like to accompany you,” the middle head concluded later on, addressing Mamba. The right politely added, “If you’ll let us.”

The left just spat off to the side. Flux whooped and began another happy dance, but Mamba remained deathly silent. She rose and began walking, moving unhurriedly towards the horizon.

The Emperor stared after her, unsure what to do. Flux assured them, “She likes you!”

And in a sudden cynical flash, the Emperor understood that the silent follow-up to that was: “...For now.”

And then Flux was shoving his haunches, trying to get him to walk. “C’mon, we’re nomads now! We gotta keep moving!”

~ ~ ~
Whatever misgivings the Emperor might’ve had, it soon became apparent that traveling with others had its benefits. Mamba had mastered survival in the wilderness, and Flux displayed similar flashes of knowledge from time to time. It didn’t take much guesswork to realize she’d learned these from the Skydancer.

“So d’you just copy everything she does, or does she actually tell you stuff?” the Emperor asked one night. They had stopped for a break, and Flux was digging through the ground for something to eat.

“She talks to me, honest! Sometimes.”

They all looked towards where Mamba sat, her back to them. Perfectly still, like a statue. “Recharging?” the Emperor thought—and not entirely facetiously. Given how much of Mamba was mechanical, it probably wasn’t just a figure of speech.

Sparks crackled from one of Flux’s paws. She scowled at it. “Ugh. Mamba’s gonna ramble at me again. Psst, don’t tell her, OK? I’ll do it...later.”

Two of the Emperor’s heads turned to check Mamba’s reaction. They expected her to be glaring at them, but to their relief, she was slinking into the darkness, probably to check on something she’d noticed. “Or she got tired of all the yammering again.”

Meanwhile, the right head asked, “Is it difficult, having mostly mechanical parts?”

“Mamba takes care of me. Always has.”

“But what if Mamba isn’t around?” the Emperor wondered.

Flux’s grin remained stubbornly in place, but the question must’ve flitted through her mind then, too. Her eyes seemed a bit distant. “She told me I’d need bigger limbs. Said it’d be a lot of trouble. But still...”

“But still, you’re going to tell her. And no matter how much she rambles, she’ll turn right around and fix you. Always has. Always will...”

And then, like a bolt from the blue, Mamba dropped out of the sky. She landed between the two dragons, nearly startling the life out of them (again). They all heard a sharp intake of breath as Flux prepared to scream.

“Be quiet! Something’s out there...”

She shot a quick backwards glance over one shoulder. Farther into the desert, there were several high, rocky crags. It had been difficult to tell in the darkness, but it seemed there was...something atop them now? Someone watching?

“Be prepared to leave,” Mamba hissed, but paused when she saw Flux’s damaged paw. In a flat, hopeless voice, she growled, “Broken again, I see.”

“I can still walk,” Flux protested, but the Skydancer was already shaking her head. The Emperor didn’t argue either: All three heads had spied movement among the rocky crags. Several slinking shapes, clearly approaching.

“I hope you’re as good in a fight as all the stories say,” Mamba droned. The Emperor barely heard her; he was slavering now, almost trying to taste the air. One part of him—he wasn’t sure which—chuckled, “Hey, if it isn’t a challenge, it’s a meal.”

They could barely get the words out. The ravenousness was rising higher, threatening to drown out the world. They had time for one more brief thought, as the figures grew closer: “Perhaps the hunger is good for something, after all.”

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
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