Purgatory

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t supposed to be any, not in this valley or any other. Doctor Faulkes had stollen the Seven Seed-Egg stones from the Dead City on Travon II. Recovered them, he said. And Var-Don the Travon Queens-Pair had found him and the stones aboard the LORES Valkyrie, just before the Queens-Pair Cleave and the nymphs’ emergence from the stones. And Doctor Faulkes’ Purgatory, his penance for his theft was to nurture the nymphs as they morphed toward adulthood, into what would be called dragons by those who did not know.

Travon nymphs take a very long time to mature, at least in human terms. Faulkes would have died over a hundred years before the first nymph sputtered blue-green flames from its nostrils. But Doctor Einrick Deaver Faulks was no longer just human for he had been infused with the gold laced blood of a Travon Queens-Pair and would not know a human death for untold years. It was not the gift of immortality he might have imagined. All whom he had known when his charge began were long gone. The Queens-Pair had ceased to exist as such upon the Cleave. Once Var-Don, then Varaal and Doneal, a cleft pair gone to regenerate their union back on Travon II. Too far to be of any assistance for another century here in the valley.

For six hundred years, the once vain and arrogant scientist watched in rapt awe that his younger self never knew when leading his team across the known and accessible galaxy, exploring the regions for new entries into his expansive trove of scholarly papers and publications. His academic credentials within the Galacto Consortium Acquiesse had given him first berth on the Long-Range Expeditionary Ship Valkyrie. Some might say it was an interstellar yacht. It was certainly not the military transport for which it was commandeered, ending Faulkes’ life of disinterested social interplay and interrupted research. There is a story in that.

Now a rapture moves through Einrick’s gold laced veins as he monitors his charges. The nymphs have grown. Some have sprouted wings of translucent skin webs, some favor the surface, moving heavily on ever more massive, clawed feet. And then there is Sween, all serpentine and slithery. Each of the seven creatures shares some characteristics, while each is unique. As Doctor Faulkes has been able to sneak peaks at various archaic records and tales of the far-flung inhabitants of this planet, he notes that his “children” have created quite a stir. They have in fact become what these people call Dragons. Despite his efforts, one or more of the kids manage to leave the valley and scare people from time to time.

In truth, the Travon youth have never done any of the deeds upon which blame has been laid to them. Sure, from time to time a small fire is accidentally set with a sneeze, but they understand they are guests here, at least Einrick thinks they understand. Communication continues to be an evolving challenge. No, to date, every incidence of Dragon misdeed investigated has turned out to be Dragon scapegoating. And the sooner either Varaal or Doneal or a reunited Var-Don returns to this remote and backward planet the better. This valley is losing its isolation more each year and the temporal distortion pylons are far beyond their expected service life. The dragons need to be returned home and relegated to the status of myths, legends, and deities of this planet.

A sadness comes with the thought. What will become of the once famous and distained Einrick Deaver Faulkes, PhD, MD, etc. etc. etc. He’s not welcome on Travon II, despite his long service to the future generations of that world. This is his purgatory.