REGRESSED

CHAPTER 1

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Or, as Melody Falcon knew only too well, there weren’t only dragons in the Valley. Presently, she didn’t care one little bit. Right now her life depended on avoiding a silent army of predators known as Nam-Chompians (Chompers for short) who had been sent to derail her, devour her, or at the very least turn her into a smoldering, whimpering pile of human flesh; but that wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Not if Melody had anything to say about it.

Melody was a resourceful 25 year-old, raven-haired, sometime triathlete who was presently covered from head-to-toe in the sort of jungle muck and ooze one would expect to collect while running - and falling - through the deepest depths of the Amazon rainforest. Truth was, Melody didn’t know where or when she was - not exactly. But she was certain this wasn’t the Amazon.

That’s because flying five hundred feet above the Valley (which had transitioned into an unfortunate terrain of fetid stinking mountain streams and half dead stands of gloomy, brown and blood-red tall tress) were three glorious, effervescent, highly alert but hardly original dragons acting as sentries for an enraged cerulean Warlord whose name - when pronounced correctly - mostly sounded like Mingus Pha Fla Monk.

The dragons were not in any way organic, but instead had been engineered at some point in the long-ago past; an homage to the extinct original dragons of this estuary region who had perished long ago when the atmosphere of the dark, dank, infested world had became too inhospitable due to the usual; climate change spurred on by carbon emissions and unrelenting pollution. The seismic, catastrophic encroachment of hyper urban expansion into the hinterlands of this world known as Carabas, and a wonton disregard for established protocols and customs, had most certainly hastened the end of times for the dragons, who had been replaced by highly engineered (part organic part mechanical) replicants derived from stored dragon DNA that had been decoded and synthesized at great expense. These dragons were not only more nimble than their predecessors, they were able to broadcast recon telemetry back to a hovering mobile command center which was converging on Melody’s current position at unimaginable speed.

The nimble command and control platform was not a creation fully devised by the inhabitants of Carabas. Instead, the breathtakingly functional device was fashioned from a creature called a Zoompas, which was a forty foot long hollowed-out beetle possessing unbridled titanium-like tensor strength with room for expert, battle-tested beings known simply as Skells, who stood ready to disembark from the highly maneuverable Zoompas at a moment’s notice to hunt down and destroy Melody.

Melody thought through a short list of middling to terrible options presently available as avenues for escape. For starters, there was the jump into a white-water rapid filled with Carabas’ version of carnivorous piranha; or the climb up one of those towering trees, which would only take her closer to the dragons; or she could burrow into the soft, dank muck of the land around her, and hope the angry hordes would pass her by.

None of these options seemed particularly workable, Melody thought, as she huddled under a sickeningly sticky, immense boulder covered in fornication droplets; the unfortunate by-product of the mating ritual between giant, fast-moving sloths. Generally these creatures were arboreal neotropical xenarthran mammals known for their slowness and shy demeanor; not at all like the overly aggressive, highly dexterous, and speedy sloths found in this region of Carabas between the Valley and forest.

But here, ensconced between fog-shrouded methane tinged hills and undulating fast-moving streams that seemed to shift as Melody made her way, one thing was clear: this world contained thousands of species that were so anomalous and distinctive, it was if they had been created to be different on purpose. Examples included those fast moving sloths; intelligent, verbal, highly suspicious toucans; brilliant, cunning ocelots who spoke a Chechen-sounding advanced language known only to them; not to mention those biologically engineered nano-marines (Skells) who could think, feel, run, and kill unlike anything anywhere. Ever. And of course there were the dragons.

Melody looked up to see one of them, Eutherian, flying high above. She ducked low, as if somehow that meant she wouldn’t be seen, when she felt a tug on her sleeve…. she’d almost forgotten. Dammit, she thought. Why? Why was she trapped on this world, with an encroaching maelstrom of certain death barely at arm’s length, while a hundred year-old child she had nicknamed Maisy (mostly because Maisy’s real name was too terrible and difficult to pronounce) was tugging at her sleeve.

She knew the hordes of trackers, soldiers, and Chompers were going to kill her and her young charge if they hung around for much longer, so it was time to go. Melody put out her hand and grabbed one of Maisy’s three arms as if their lives depended on getting a move on right then and there - which it did and she jumped… option number one it was.

Jumping was the best choice, she reasoned hopefully, as she took air from the precipice filled with certain death and splashed into the raging, surprisingly warm, fast-moving river with Maisy in tow. They each sank about ten feet under the surface. Melody was able to quickly and surely get her bearings and she began kicking like her life depended on it. It did. She held on to Maisy with all the strength she could muster and finally, after about twenty seconds, they both crested the surface of the river and took gargantuan breaths of hot, humid, dank air. They bobbed up and down and looked around.

“Well, that wasn’t too terrible,” Maisy whispered in a tiny voice.

“Guess it could have been a lot worse,” Melody offered, cheerily and with as much optimism as she could muster. A dark shadow crossed Maisy’s face.

“Uh oh,” she quietly offered. “I think there’s something…” And before finishing her thought, Maisy was ferociously pulled under the surface. Melody began kicking furiously, and pulled on Maisy’s arm. A second later Maisy reemerged, drenched, but alive. Melody used her previous training as a high-performance athlete, and kicked the 100 yards from their current position to the rocky, lava-strewn shore.

She gingerly lifted Maisy from the river and checked her feet - they were okay and still there. Then, she navigated past the shards of uneven glass-like rocks filling the shore until she found a soft pad of grass and straw and set Maisy down. The child looked up and offered a shy smile.

“Thanks. You saved my life. Like maybe a hundred times.”

“You’re welcome. That’s apparently why I’m here.” Melody looked up and saw the dragons circling high above the ridge. “But we haven’t any time. Let’s get moving.” Maisy stood up and grabbed Melody’s left arm, and they proceeded to walk between the river and the overgrown shoreline, preferring to stay off the rocky shards and away from the overgrowth that bordered the canopy of the forest.

Melody looked down at Maisy. It was easy to forget that Maisy wasn’t a human child, not at all. She most closely resembled a Megaladapis, or koala lemur. She was squat, with longish arms, fingers, and feet. She had three arms, which was decidedly different than anything Melody could remember reading about. Maisy weighed roughly 100 pounds and possessed a cow-like jaw with a tapering snout. Melody knew the long extinct koala lemur had once inhabited the island of Madagascar on Earth, but none of that original species possessed three arms or the shimmering red-gold fur that covered Maisy from head to toe. And none of those lemurs could speak the Queen’s English like Maisy. It wasn’t like Melody was used to speaking with large-limbed extinct primates, but today was turning out to be that day.

“Tell me again about your shop, about where you work,” Maisy asked as they walked carefully along the shoreline. Melody thought about keeping their conversation strictly business, but she hadn’t the strength to protest.

“It’s called Falcon’s Nest, named for my father Malcom Falcon.” Maisy butted in.

“Malcom Falcon. I quite like that name. It rhymes.” Melody nodded.

“As I told you before, we collect ancient relics, books, and oddities from far-off places.” Melody avoided a particularly gnarly outcropping of volcanic rock, with Maisy right beside her.

“But how did you get here? To this place… which seems so far off from your home?” Melody took a long breath, and sighed.

“I have clients, who visit me from all over. You’re actually one of them.” Maisy seemed happy with this admission.

“I am?”

“You are. And sometimes clients need my help with problems they’ve accumulated from many lifetimes and from many far-off places." Melody thought about how best to describe her work to Maisy. “And I have the ability… well, it’s something I can’t really explain… to travel between different lands and different times like few people can.” Maisy nodded.

“So, you’re saying, I’m a client of yours from one lifetime and you’re here to help me in this lifetime?” Melody nodded.

“Yes. Something very much like that.” Melody looked up ahead and thought she heard a rumble just around the bend in the river, but their route seemed clear.

“But why exactly do I need your help?”

“Because your father the Warlord Monk apparently won’t let your mother the Empress Fila Fa Fla Monk have custody of you without quite the fight.” Maisy was angry, like a small child who wished to be elsewhere.

“My stupid father. I just wish my parents could set aside their differences and get along for once. Silly ninnies can’t figure out how to behave like normal parents.”

“You’d be surprised how many parents, no matter where they live, fight over their children.” Melody heard that strange sound again. She stopped walking and looked to the river.

“But they aren’t like normal parents, are they?” Maisy seemed sad.

“No, I guess not.”

Suddenly and without any warning whatsoever, the beetle-like Zoompas dropped from the sky into the river roughly fifty feet from shore, right by where Melody and Maisy stood. About thirty Skells, battle armor in place, jumped from the Zoompas and clamored to shore, spears and blasters of some kind at the ready. As if on cue, a thousand ground hugging Chompers (which for all the world looked like metal cockroaches with barbed talons and orange-hued outer shells) stampeded from the hills leading down to the shore until they had surrounded Melody and Maisy. Melody whispered to Maisy.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to be fine.” Maisy gulped. She climbed up and now hung from Melody, who held her close.

“I don’t see how,” Maisy said quietly. She was scared. A commotion came from behind where Melody and Maisy stood. The Chompers and Skells, who were ready to converge upon the two fugitives, now gave way. There, riding a giant elephantine-like silver creature called a Gnash, was the emperor himself; the exceedingly blue Warlord known as Mingus Pha Fla Monk. The blue Warlord was about seven feet tall and possessed a hairy torso with a long white beard, hoofed feet, two sinewy long-clawed arms, and a bulging exposed ribbed undercarriage. He stared down at Melody and Maisy and bellowed in a deep, mellifluous voice.

“Put down that ingrate and step back.” He punctuated the sentence with a series of high-pitched guttural clicks and whistles which instructed the ground hugging Chompers and fearsome Skells to advance slowly. This time it was Maisy who called out.

“Father I don’t want to come with you. I wish to be with mother. You know that, but somehow my desire isn’t good enough for you.” The Warlord, who wasn’t used to having his commands ignored, shouted again.

“Daughter, I’m not asking… I’m instructing you.” Maisy was even more defiant.

“No, I won’t come with you. And you can’t make me.” At this, the apoplectic Warlord who had changed color from cerulean to a much more inflamed looking burnt umber directed his minions with another rapid, high-pitched, unintelligible warble.

A rather imposing Skell stepped forward, took aim, and unleashed one deadly spear meant for Melody. The weapon sprung forth too fast, and with too much precision for Melody to do anything but turn slightly to try and avoid a direct hit. The projectile missed Melody, but struck Maisy in the shoulder between one of her arms and her torso. It was a shocking blow, but somehow the weapon avoided killing the child outright. She screamed in pain. Her father called out.

“Ahhhhhhh. Leave the youngster and we will repair her wound.” The Warlord jumped from his giant mount and began trundling to where Melody stood. She was about to put Maisy onto the ground when a giant whale-like creature - a glorious emerald green 50 foot-long being called a Smersh - emerged from the river, and breached the surface, splashing its massive girth onto the roiling body of water. Riding the whale was a magnificent women: this was the Empress Fila Fa Fla Monk, who most closely resembled the Green Tara, known on Earth as Sgrol-ljang, the Nepali princess, the Goddess of Action.

The Empress Monk wasted no time, and began singing the most beautiful song Melody had ever heard. This wasn’t a benign song meant to soothe; instead the three dragons, who clearly had switched allegiances to the Empress, came into view and hovered beside the whale, a thousand year-old creature known as Sur. The Empress called to Melody.

“Is the child still breathing?” Melody looked down, and saw that Maisy was alive, but her color was now pale, not at all inviolate, and she seemed to be fading. Melody shouted back.

“Yes. But the wound is worse than I thought.” The Warlord was converging on Melody and Maisy, his minions flanking on either side

“Put that child onto the ground and back away,” he barked.

“You will not touch her. Not for all the plankton in all of the seas.” The Empress Monk emitted the most heartfelt, high-pitched screech Melody had ever heard. At this, the dragons each spun three times around in counter-clockwise unison, then looked to the shore and fired, spewing the most destructive plume of preternatural hell-fire ever witnessed by human and non-human alike.

The force of the conflagration incinerated the Zoompas, all of the Skells, and most of the Chompers. The survivors scurried along the maggot infested ground to the the hillside high above the river. The Warlord, who was now ensconced in a gold-tinged force field, spun around and fired what seemed to resemble an ion cannon at the Empress, but his feeble attempt was met by another fusillade from the dragons. Realizing that any effort to destroy the Empress and the dragons was futile, the Warlord Monk retreated to the Gnash. He mounted the giant creature, turned, and galloped away from the dragons, the force of a thousand mighty volcanos dissipating behind him until all that was left was a mud soaked trail, filled with heavy footprints left by the surprisingly quick creature.

Melody turned back, Maisy still in her arms and walked to the shoreline. The Empress Monk stood on the whale creature Sur as a purple bridge formed, allowing the Empress to move quickly to shore. She stood before Melody and looked down upon her child, the three dragons having moved to encircle them. Maisy was now barely conscious and breathed rapidly, uneasily. Her mother gently took her from Melody and held her tight. The child opened her eyes, which fluttered and struggled to remain open, but she knew her mother was near.

“I’m so happy to see you.” The empress looked stricken.

“And I you.” Maisy took another uneven breath or two. Her eyes opened wider, then closed. And there, by the shore, with Melody and the dragons looking on, Maisy perished in her mother’s arms. Melody was stricken with grief and cried out.

“No. Please tell me there’s nothing you can do.” The Empress Monk now had tears streaming from her magnificence.

“There is nothing we can do. Once death arrives, it is irrelevant what else we try.” She turned to Sur. The giant whale angled her face and looked to the sky, tears forming and falling from her eyes. The Empress turned back, clutching her now dead child.

“Maisy will never grow old. Nor will she ever be forgotten. This means certain war with her father. War for control of Carabas. And war for the right of all decent beings to live in peace. The Empress stepped even closer. “I know you tried bringing a just end to the divide between the child’s father and I. Nothing more can be said. It’s now time for you to go.” The Empress held out her hand. In it was a remarkable ruby-red gemstone which seemed to be lit from within. Melody leaned forward and kissed Maisy’s head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were a gentle, loving soul. You deserved to live forever. And now… “ Melody wiped the tears from her eyes. “I will try again one day. I promise. You have my word.” The Empress Monk looked down at Melody.

“You must journey home. Before the Warlord mounts a counter attack.” She held out her right hand, the giant ruby-red gemstone upright. Melody reached under her shirt, and removed a pendant hanging from a black leather strap. The glowing pendant closely resembled the Empress Monk’s ruby-red stone. She held the stone in her right hand, took a final step closer to the Empress, closed her eyes, and they touched stones.

And there on that shore, with Sur the thousand year-old whale and the three dragons looking on, a luminescence brighter than 1000 suns emanated from the junction of those two stones. A terrific wind whipped, dirt flew everywhere, and the trees swayed against hurricane force winds as the power and magic of the event enveloped everything and everyone until there was nothing left but incredible blue white light.

Melody opened her eyes. She now stood, where she always stood in moments like this, under a hundred year-old grape vine arbor made from reclaimed limbs from the front yard of her and her father’s curio shop. She looked up. The sun was low on the horizon and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. She took a breath, then remembered exactly when and where she was.

Melody ran around the vast expanse of the rambling home that housed Falcon’s Nest until she found the front door. She continued running through the pristine wooden hallway that connected the main entrance to the salon in the rear where she conducted most of her sessions. She opened the door and stood in the doorway, quietly… and just stared.

In front of her sat an elderly woman, dressed impeccably in a blue linen suit, a cashmere scarf draped on her shoulders, with a breathtaking white south sea cultured pearl strand necklace with cage clash and hand-knotted silk cord around her neck. Melody wasted no time and eased into the room. She sat in a chair opposite the woman, sipped from a cup of water, then clapped her hands, once.

“Okay. Maisy. You can open your eyes.” The woman’s eyes fluttered open. “How are you doing?” Maisy raised her left hand to her right neck and squeezed.

“Well, I think the pain’s still there, but maybe it’s a little better? I think some Tylenol might help too.” Her eyes focused on Melody. “How was the regression? Did you see anything… anything at all worth mentioning?” Maisy smiled, a hopeful look on her face.

“You know, this time not so much. Might have to work on my technique just a bit.” Melody got up and hugged the older Maisy, who seemed surprised by the gesture. Melody was misty eyed.

“You take care of yourself today, please.”

“Count on it,” Maisy smiled. “What choice do I have?”

Later, when the older Maisy was gone, Melody wept for the child on Carabas who was unlike anyone or anything she’d ever met. That Maisy had perished in her arms not an hour prior, and Melody was convinced that whatever it was that allowed her to travel through time and space was an aberration and she wasn’t going to experience the heartache again. No matter what the circumstance.

Mel’s father, Malcom Falcon, edged his wheel chair into the wide doorway and sat quietly while his daughter processed what had just happened. He had been handsome once. Debonair even. Now, though a shell of his former self, he still possessed a certain flair. It was clear Melody was close to her breaking point. She turned to him, angry and more than a little overwhelmed.

“It’s unnatural. To find places, times, worlds in this universe so like ours, but so unlike it at the same time. I don’t know if I can make another journey. Not like that. I’m not doing well. In fact, I’m really upset.” She sipped from her glass and wiped more tears from her eyes. Her father looked disturbed.

“Well, I’ve got some news. Not sure if it’s good or bad, but there’s been a development.” Melody looked stricken.

“I’m sure I can’t take anything else. Not today. Maybe not for a long time.” She looked at the floor. Her father said what he had to say quickly, and with no emotion, which later-on surprised Melody.

“It’s your mother. She seems to have surfaced sometime in the Middle Ages. Left clues, even, to her whereabouts... but she can’t return until you go get her.”

“That’s impossible. She’s gone. Dead. Just a long-ago faded memory.”

“Well, that’s not entirely true as it turns out. She’s not gone or even dead. She’s just not in this time or place.” Malcom could see he was getting nowhere fast. “Take a night to think about it, then in the morning we’ll map out a plan. Seems like you’ll be going again before too long. So ease up on the guilt. There was nothing you could do to save Maisy in that lifetime. Lord knows I’ve tried a few times and came up empty each time. Remember, how do you think I wound up in this thing?” He banged the wheelchair with the edge of his watch.

“But, she was just a child.”

“And still is. Who knows? After this business with your mother is sorted perhaps you can try again.” Malcom turned his wheel chair and eased from his distraught, exhausted daughter. She thought about what he’d just said. After a minute or two, she called out.

“I’m going back... to help Maisy. To save that life. I’ll find mother, wherever and whenever she is, and I'll bring her back if that's even possible. And next time, with Maisy, there’ll be no doubt. And no failure.”

That last part sounded like she was convincing herself of the obvious. Maybe she needed convincing. But there was no doubt. None, whatsoever. Melody took another sip of water, then closed her eyes.