Eating Your Weight: A New Mentor

[A New Mentor]

Nobody should have to wake up this early, I thought as I trudged my way through the Familiar Forest at the buttcrack of dawn. My boots sank into the ground with every step, and I could barely even keep my eyes open.

​Why had I agreed to this again? Right, because the alternative was being stuck in the Underworld indefinitely, unable to go home or see my parents or do anything even remotely resembling a normal life. So here I was, stumbling through a dirty magic forest, looking for a dragon that had knocked me out like a misbehaving child only a few hours ago.

​Great start to my morning.

​At least there’s no mosquitoes in the underworld, I thought as I idly scratched my brow.

​Though that did make me wonder where they go when they die. If all dogs go to heaven and all cats go to hell, where do the bloodsucking parasites go?

​Probably super hell. I decided. Same place as the people who invented taxes and blue raspberry. The worst flavor of anything ever.

And I would maintain that until death.

​My face scrunched at the mere thought of the flavor as I emerged into a familiar clearing.

​Tiamat’s lake was calm, only disturbed by the waterfall tumbling from the cliff above. Like last time, not a single creature was nearby, not faeries or Imps...

​And curiously, no dragon.

​I stood at the edge of the clearing, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. I could smell her everywhere, the cloying scent of a powerful beast that made my chest rumble with something hot, but the beast itself was nowhere to be found.

​“Tiamat?” I called out, my voice echoing across the water.

​Nothing. Just the sound of the waterfall and the distant calls of forest creatures.

​I waited a beat, then tried again. “Tiamat! I’m here for the training thing!”

​Still nothing. The waterfall continued its endless cascade, seemingly mocking my presence.

​My eye twitched. I had dragged myself out of a warm bed and the embrace of a beautiful woman, and stumbled through a forest full of creepy crawlies before the sun was even properly up. The least she could do was be here when she said she would.

​“Hello?” I called a third time, irritation creeping into my voice. “What, did I get the wrong lake or something?”

​The forest remained stubbornly silent. I clicked my tongue, anger and annoyance curling in my stomach.

​Fine. If she wanted to play that game, she could play it by herself. I had better things to do than stand around like an idiot waiting for someone who couldn’t be bothered to show up.

​I turned on my heel, preparing to march back the way I came. I would go back to the manor, crawl into bed with Miyo, and pretend this whole mess had been a bad dream. Serafall could find someone else to help me, I was sure. Or I could figure it out myself—

​“You must have a truly pitiful amount of discipline if you’re willing to abandon your search for power so quickly.”

​I stopped mid-step, and my eye twitched again at the sound of the voice. It was smooth as silk, cold as ice, and dripping with condescension that made my blood boil.

​I turned, prepared to give the dragon a piece of my mind about punctuality and common courtesy and maybe a few choice words about leaving people standing around in forests at ungodly hours, only to freeze at what I saw.

​A dragon head was peeking out from behind the waterfall, regarding me with icy disdain. It was entirely blue, covered in glittering scales that caught the morning light and scattered it like sapphires. A pair of silver horns jutted from its forehead, curving backward in an elegant arch and ending in deadly points. Its muzzle was longer than Nidhogg’s, more angular, but no less deadly, as shown as its lip curled, revealing row upon row of teeth that could probably tear through steel like paper.

​The feeling in my chest burned bright, the bonfire of instinct behind my ribs flaring high and hot. My hands clenched at my sides, and I felt my fingers curling, nails digging into my palms hard enough to leave marks in a mimicry of yesterday.

​Here is a powerful opponent, something whispered in the back of my mind. Challenge her. Show her your strength. Dominate her.

​I grit my teeth, forcing the instinct down with everything I had. It was hard, but I remembered yesterday. Remembered the ease with which she had swatted me aside like an annoying fly, and how literally nothing had changed since then. If I attacked now, I would lose just as easily, and lose any chance of actually learning something from this arrangement on top of that.

​So I locked the instinct tightly inside, shoving it into a mental box and sitting on the lid.

​“I’m not gonna go running around the forest searching for you,” I forced out, the words coming out roughly. “I was told to be here at dawn. I’m here at dawn. If you want to play hide and seek, find someone else.”

​Tiamat’s head lifted slightly, angular features shifting as she studied me. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, but it was gone before I could place it.

​“Indeed,” she said, and her tone had shifted, losing some of the disdain that had been present before. “You have at least some capacity for self-control. That is good, and surprising, given your outburst yesterday.”

​“I’m full of surprises,” I managed through gritted teeth.

​Tiamat’s muzzle twitched, the dragon equivalent of a raised eyebrow. “We shall see. Nevertheless, patience is a virtue. I was simply getting my home in order. It has been long since I have had guests.”

​Tiamat’s head ducked back behind the curtain of water, disappearing from view. I stood there, waiting with barely contained impatience as the sound of the waterfall filled the silence.

​Then the water split again, and I felt my breath catch.

​Tiamat emerged in human form, and even my sleep-deprived brain couldn’t help but take notice of how absolutely beautiful she was. She wore a low-cut dress of silver and blue that clung to her curves like a second skin. The neckline plunged deep to show off an ample amount of cleavage, while a slit along the thigh revealed flashes of pale skin with every step.

​I fought to keep my eyes firmly locked on her face as she waded across the lake, the water parting around her thighs yet somehow not getting her wet. Her long blue hair flowed behind her like a river, and those dark blue eyes never left mine, pinning me in place with an intensity that made my chest burn all over again.

​She walked right up to me, somehow completely dry after the endeavor, and it was then—in the middle of trying not to stare at her chest—that I realized something I had somehow missed yesterday.

​Tiamat was tall.

​Now, most people were tall compared to me, but Tiamat was a different story altogether, easily two feet taller than I was. Chest to chest as we were, I had to crane my neck just to maintain eye contact, which was not really doing wonders for the instinct screaming at me to establish dominance over my fellow dragon.

​Tiamat stared down at me, high cheekbones and sharp jaw poised in a cool expression.

​“What do you feel, little hatchling?”

​I blinked, the question catching me off guard. “What?”

​“What do you feel,” Tiamat repeated, her voice oddly patient. “Right now. At this moment. Tell me.”

​I frowned, trying to parse what she was asking. What did I feel? Tired, annoyed, impatient, and fighting the urge to punch her in the face.

​But something told me that wasn’t what she was looking for.

​“I feel...” I started, then stopped, actually trying to sense the answer. “Hot? Like there’s a fire in my chest that won’t go away.”

​“Does it speak to you?” She prodded.

​I nodded slowly, trying to articulate what I was feeling. “It wants me to kick your ass. Or get my ass kicked trying, I guess.”

​Tiamat’s smile was all teeth. “You would be in for much more than simple humiliation were you to raise your hand against me again. But it is good that you are honest about your weakness.”

​My eye twitched at the word, but I forced myself not to snap back. She wasn’t wrong, after all. Yesterday had proven that pretty thoroughly.

​“That heat in your chest,” Tiamat said, circling around me slowly. I tracked her movement, my body tensing as she moved into my peripheral vision. “That is your draconic instinct. It is the blood of a predator, the soul of a conqueror. It recognizes a threat and the opportunity that threat poses. And it demands action.”

​Her words echoed what Nidhogg had already told me but I still listened intently. She stopped behind me, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

​“Right now, it sees me as both,” she continued, her voice a low purr that somehow made the fire in my chest flare hotter. “A threat—your pride, your very existence. And at the same time, an opportunity to prove yourself, to claim dominance over a powerful foe.”

​“Sounds about right,” I managed, my jaw tight.

​“Every dragon feels this,” Tiamat said, her footsteps light as she circled back around to face me. “From the lowliest wyrmling to the most ancient of our kind. It is not a flaw, nor is it something to be ashamed of. It is simply nature.”

​She reached out, one elegant finger coming to rest against my chest, right where the heat burned brightest. I flinched at the contact, but didn’t pull away.

​“The difference between a dragon and a feral beast is not the absence of this instinct, but the ability to master it. To hear the voice that demands violence, and choose whether or not to answer.”

​Her finger pressed slightly harder against my scales.

​“You cannot silence this voice. It will always be there, whispering in your ear, urging you to fight, to claim, to dominate. The question is whether you will be its master, or its slave.”

​She removed her finger, stepping back.

​“Yesterday, you were its slave. Today, we begin the process of changing that.”

​I stared at the area she poked, feeling the fire roil under my skin. Slowly, I looked up at her. “And this will help me go back to normal?”

​“No.”

​The word was flat and I blinked at her. “No?”

​“Your transformation is irreversible,” Tiamat said. “Your soul is not what it once was. As you grow older and more powerful, those changes will only deepen.” She gave a small shrug. “You will never be what you once were.”

​I stared at her, a cold pit settling in my stomach. I had expected as much, honestly. Nidhogg had said something similar, after all. But hearing it stated so bluntly was...

​“But,” Tiamat continued, and my head snapped up at the word. “Once you have control, I can teach you a new trick.”

​Before I could ask what she meant, Tiamat stepped back. Her body began to shift and morph, her form rippling like water disturbed by a stone. I watched with a slack jaw as her features rearranged themselves, bones and muscles shifting beneath skin, colors bleeding into one another like paint on a canvas, until finally, a completely different person was standing before me.

​Gone was the pale blue hair and dark blue eyes. In their place was a cascade of multicolored locks that shifted through every shade of the rainbow, framing a face that was utterly foreign. Her nose was larger, and her jaw was broad instead of sharp like before.

​And yet, despite all the changes, she was no less beautiful than she had been before. It was the same beauty, just... rearranged.

​“This,” Tiamat said, peering at me through irises that were yellow as the sun. “is an ability that does not come naturally to our race. But for beings like us, it is a necessary one.”

​I continued to stare, my brain struggling to process what I had just witnessed. “You can just shape shift like it’s nothing?”

​“Not quite so easily,” Tiamat corrected, turning her head to examine her reflection in the lake’s surface. “It requires concentration and an intimate knowledge of one’s power. But yes, the ability to alter one’s form is within our grasp.”

​She turned back to face me, those yellow sun-eyes boring into mine.

​“There are many reasons a dragon might wish to change their appearance. Should you master this ability, you would be free to walk among lesser beings more or less unnoticed.”

​“You’re saying I could learn to do this?”

​“If you master your instincts, yes,” Tiamat nodded. “The power is already within you. It simply requires the discipline to wield it.”

​I looked down at my hands, at the black scales that crawled across my skin. Since I had been reborn in that cave, I had been worrying about how to hide these changes from everyone I knew. And now Tiamat was telling me that I could learn to just... stop looking like this with a bit of practice?

​It was almost too good to be true.

​“What’s the catch?” I asked suspiciously.

​Tiamat’s new lips curled into a smile that looked wrong on her unfamiliar face. “There is no catch. Only work. Hard, tedious, exhausting work. The kind of work that most would abandon before they saw any real progress.”

​She stepped closer, looming over me once again.

​“The question is whether you have the fortitude to see it through.”

​“I do,” I said.

​Tiamat studied me for a long moment, those alien eyes searching for something in my expression. Whatever she found seemed to satisfy her, because she gave a small nod.

​“We shall see. Follow.”

​She turned and waded back into the lake, the water parting around her. I followed a beat behind, the cool water rising to my knees as I pushed through. Tiamat disappeared behind the waterfall, and I braced myself as I stepped through the curtain of water.

​I expected a cave. Maybe a ravine, or some kind of underground lair befitting a dragon, hoard of gold and all. What I found instead made my jaw drop.

​A beautiful field stretched out before me, filled with flowers of every color imaginable. Reds and blues and purples and yellows, all blooming across a rolling hill of green grass. The sun flooded the space, unfiltered by the trees that choked the rest of the forest, casting a warm glimmer over dew-soaked leaves and petals.

​And in the center of it all stood a cabin so massive it was practically a two-story house, built from warm wood and stone.

​I stood there, gaping like an idiot as I took in the sight. The air was different here, lighter almost, compared to the rest of the Underworld. Birds sang in the branches of trees that bordered the field, and I could see small creatures darting through the undergrowth at the edges of my vision.

​“What is this?” I breathed.

​“The only place I can find peace anymore,” Tiamat said. She had resumed her original form at some point and gazed out at the field with an expression that might have been fondness. “My own personal sanctuary, where none dare tread.”

​She glanced back at me, one elegant eyebrow raised. “You should be grateful that you get to see it. You are the first in a very long time.”

​I shook my head slowly, still trying to process the impossibility of what I was seeing. “But how? I flew over this forest yesterday. I didn’t see anything like this.”

​“You didn’t because I didn’t want you to,” Tiamat said, and left it at that.

​I looked around at the field again, taking in the flowers and the cabin and the impossible beauty of it all. A niggling worm of worry worked its way into the back of my mind, and I turned to Tiamat with a frown.

​“Are you sure we should do this here?” I asked. “I mean, I nearly burned down part of the forest yesterday just by powering up. I don’t want to destroy this place.”

​Tiamat tilted her head, blinking blue irises in silent confusion. “Destroy it?”

​“With the training,” I clarified. “If we’re going to be fighting, I don’t want to–”

​“Fight?” Tiamat laughed incredulously. “You expect to battle me?”

​“Isn’t that the entire point of this?” I asked. “To get a hold of my power through combat?”

​“Just so,” Tiamat agreed, her amusement fading into something more serious. “But fighting would be a waste of time. You would learn nothing from being crushed repeatedly, and I would gain nothing from the exercise.”

​Harsh, but fair.

​“Then what are we doing?”

​Tiamat gestured to a patch of flowers near the edge of the lake, their petals a soft lavender. “Sit.”

​I stared at the indicated spot, then back at her. “Huh?”

​“Sit,” she repeated, her tone brooking no argument.

​I closed my mouth and walked over to the patch of flowers, lowering myself onto the grass. The ground was surprisingly soft, and the flowers brushed against my legs as I settled into a cross-legged position.

​Tiamat moved to stand before me, her tall form blocking out the sun.

​“Meditate,” she said.

​“Meditate,” I repeated flatly.

​“Yes. Close your eyes. Look inward and find the part of you that seems to acquire dominion over your common sense.”

Unwilling to argue, ​I closed my eyes and did as she said, turning my attention to my inner world.

​It wasn’t hard to find. That ball of heat in my chest, my magic but also not, sat there like a second heart. It roiled against my touch, churning like a miniature sea, but I was already practiced enough to soothe it. I cupped it gently in mental fingers, holding it steady the way one might hold a struggling cat.

​“Smother that feeling,” Tiamat’s voice came from somewhere above me. “Ignore every influence it places upon you. Let it rage, but do not let it move you.”

​I tried to focus on the heat, on the way it pushed against my mental grip, demanding to be let loose, but I pushed back, forcing it down, smothering it with my will alone...

​And then I caught a whiff of something. A cloying dragon smell that made the heat flare bright and angry. Tiamat’s scent, exponentially more powerful than what I had smelled yesterday.

​A growl rumbled deep in my chest before I could stop it. I tensed, waiting for Tiamat’s disappointment or annoyance at my immediate failure. But instead, her voice was almost approving.

​“Well done.”

​My eyes opened. “I literally just growled at you.”

​“Yes, but you managed to find and hold the instinct before that,” Tiamat said. “That is more than most achieve in their first attempt. We will continue doing this for as long as it takes. Once you master this step, then we will move on to the next.”

​I nodded, preparing to close my eyes and dig inward again. Before I could however, Tiamat held up a hand. “Hold a moment. First, there is another I wish to converse with.”

​She turned her attention downward, her blue eyes fixing on where my hands rested upon my lap.

​“Are you going to remain silent forever, Nidhogg? Or have you returned to your old habits of napping for centuries?”

​The back of my hands immediately began to glow, a third presence inserting itself into this little slice of peace and quiet.

​“Tiamat,” Nidhogg’s voice rumbled. “You would do well to remember who you speak to.”

​I felt Nidhogg’s annoyance at the way she addressed him, in part thanks to the fact that he had directed that same tone at me more than once when I was about to overstep my boundaries with him. Usually, I took it to mean that I should change the topic or cut the conversation short, but Tiamat seemed utterly unbothered by the threat in his tone.

​“I am not so certain of that myself,” she replied. “I remember a time when you recoiled at the idea of joining the Five Great Dragon Kings, deeming us… what was the word you used. Ah, yes, lesser.”

​The word was filled with derision, and I found myself somewhat commiserating with her reaction. The woman before me was many things, but lesser was certainly not one of them.

​Tiamat’s head tilted as she continued. “And yet here I find that you have willingly given a human so much of your power that she is full to bursting with it. And burst she did.”

​Blue eyes narrowed. “Pray tell, what changed, oh great Devouring Dragon?”

​Nidhogg was silent for a long moment, and I would have thought he retreated back to the inner world if not for the persistent glow burning on the back of my hand.

​After a long moment, his voice came again, this time much more calm. Introspective, almost. “I find myself asking the same question, more often than you can imagine. I have not yet found the answer, but I will tell you this much. This girl, though young and undoubtedly foolish, has proven to be worthy of the scales she wishes to hide. I would see how far she can go, if nothing else but to sate my boredom.”

I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with Tiamat’s presence. Meanwhile, Tiamat’s brows crept to her hairline at his words.

"​Interesting..."

​The word hung in the air between them, and I felt like I was stuck in the middle of something I had no business being near. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but somehow, I felt there was no hostility to be found here.

​“You find something amusing?” Nidhogg asked as she began to smile.

​“I find many things amusing,” Tiamat replied. “But this is fascinating. The great Nidhogg, who once declared that he would rather gnaw on the roots of Yggdrasil for eternity than involve himself in the affairs of the world, has taken a pet.”

​“She is not a pet.” Nidhogg growled, surprising me with the speed and power of his reaction.

​“No?” Tiamat smiled while I remained carefully silent. “Then what would you call her? A partner? An equal? You, who has looked down upon every being who dares linger in your presence for millennia?”

​The glow on my hands pulsed. I could feel Nidhogg’s irritation bleeding through our connection, but also something else.

​“She has potential,” Nidhogg said finally. “Potential that I intend to see realized. What she becomes is her own doing. I am merely an observer and at times, a catalyst.”

​Tiamat hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. “A catalyst. How diplomatic of you.” She paused, then added, “Given your history, I imagined a being such as you would be incensed to find yourself in such a position. Don’t tell me you’ve grown to enjoy it as Ddraig has.”

​The silence that followed was deafening.

​I sat there, frozen, uncertain whether I should speak or remain silent. I had never seen anyone dare to speak to Nidhogg like this. Even I tried not to rile him up this much, and riling him up was like, my third favorite thing to do!

Nidhogg's voice was almost resigned as he said, ​“You always did enjoy poking at wounds, Tiamat.”

​“Someone has to,” she replied, unrepentant. “You are so terribly serious. It becomes dull after a few centuries.”

​“Hmph,” Nidhogg huffed. “Keep an eye on this one, Naomi. It seems that centuries among devil-kind has given her an even sharper tongue than usual.”

​Nidhogg’s presence retreated back into my soul, leaving me staring at my hands. Tiamat frowned, looking a moment away from rolling her eyes as he disappeared.

​“There he goes, skulking back into his lair to pout. I suppose some things never change,” she turned to me, eyes assessing. “Still, I believe I got what I needed. If a wyrm as proud as he believes you have potential, then you may yet satisfy your vendetta. And mine as well.”

​I raised an eyebrow. “You have something against Ddraig too?”

​“Indeed. He owes me a great debt that I am intent to repay.”

​I sighed. “Man, this guy’s really important among other dragons, huh?”

​Tiamat merely nodded. “The Heavenly Dragons have accrued a great many enemies, though few were strong enough to contest their incredible might.”

​“And you are?”

​Tiamat’s face darkened. “For the sin he committed, I would have found a way.”

​Honestly, I believed her.

​“Now, close your eyes again and find your center. We have much work to do, and the day grows shorter.”