Chapter 14: The Saurian

As we journeyed into the unknown galaxy, we found many planets capable of supporting life. There was only one problem, they were taken. And thus, humanity came to discover that not only were we not alone in the universe, but we were incredibly outmatched. The alien races that our convoy encountered were as advanced as they were numerous. Even more incredible was the fact that some of our ancient myths and legends had somehow been inspired by these nonhuman creatures. It seemed as though some of them had visited Earth before. As humanity found itself surrounded on all sides with no allies, an old saying from my father came to mind. “You can never have too many friends.”

Éclair dragged Ryan through the corridors of the Ministry’s interior. She noted somewhat amusedly how awestruck Ryan was by the glass columns with lava running through them as they descended from the ceiling to the floor. He gawked, engulfed by the intricate art displays on the walls depicting various Elementals and their exploits. Only these works of art had been done entirely in flames, and some of them were even made out of lightning. Éclair had contributed a few art projects herself, but they were displayed in the colder areas of the Ministry since her natural element was ice.

            As they walked down the red carpets through the massive hall, already buzzing with busy Elementals going about their day, they finally came to the chamber of the Wielder Council. Finding the room they met in sometimes proved difficult since it'd been formulated psionically to teleport every so often, but it usually remained in the same general area of the headquarters building.

More than that, Éclair sensed the immense psionic energy emanating from the powerful Wielder Elders inside due to her sensory psionic abilities. Wielders were a level above Fourth and were considered Elemental Masters capable of reducing entire cities to ash. Just standing in their presence could cripple a person, especially if they got angry, but Éclair had no other choice now that the prophecy had come true.

            Guards blocked Éclair's path, holding up the spears in front of the door. Instead of waiting for them to tell her that she needed an appointment, she just froze their pants like she normally did when she needed to speak to Saria quickly. With a wave of her hand, a coat of ice appeared on the men’s private sectors, forcing them to their knees.

The guards held their crotches and shivered pathetically as Ryan said, “What the heck did you do to them?”

Éclair shrugged at him and said to the red-armored security guards on the floor, “Sorry, boys. No time to go through the proper channels.”

Éclair thought she heard one of them say something like, “Not again” and, “My manhood is so cold,” but they mostly just moaned. She knew they’d be fine after a few minutes, so she didn’t feel too bad. Plus, she always made a point to make it up to them later by sending them part of her pension. A small sacrifice given her quite substantial inheritance.

With Ryan in tow, Éclair entered. The council now talked about preparations for the coming training year. As usual, they weren't discussing anything of particular significance. The Wielder Council comprised a group of thirteen individuals with the Minister of Fire as the head, a similar setup for all the Ministries. The Wielders sat in a circular chamber at a round table with fiery floating images of runes and different sections of Tarrus under the Ministry’s protection.

The proctor of Squad 99, Eramar Razor, who had once been a member of the Grim Team himself before Éclair and the others came to the Ministry, also attended the council as he sat next to Saria at end of the table opposite to the door. Everyone stopped and stared inordinately at the intruders. Éclair put on her most serious face, because even though she'd already done this several times, it was still very intimidating to be in the presence of such powerful Elementals.

Saria rose from her seat, angry enough to spit fire, which she could. “Éclair, how did you… Don’t tell me … You froze the pants off the guards again. Damn it, girl! We can only let that slide so many times!”

They don't call her the Minister of Fire for nothing, thought Éclair.

Before Saria got angrier, Éclair proclaimed in a loud voice, but with just a tiny bit of fear, “My lady. I apologize for the interruption, but you told me that if my prophecy of three years ago ever came to light, that I should come to you immediately. I am here today to tell you that the prophecy has come true.” Éclair then gestured to Ryan, who wore a dumbfounded face as usual. “This is Ryan Uruks, the child of the lion and the dragon, destined to become a member of Squad 99. He saw the lion in the flames, just as I did three years ago.” 

Saria looked like someone dropped a rock on her head.

Most of the Wielders seemed baffled. A few wore horrified expressions on their faces, like she'd just told them that the Dark Dragon Lords were returning.

One of the Wielders rose. The skinny one with the pencil nose. “What is this? Why does our council continue to suffer this girl’s shenanigans? Get rid of her! We have important matters to discuss.”

Another elder, a high elf named Krystofosis, spoke next. “Silence, Armorus. You speak of things you do not understand. The Fire Minister herself told me of this prophecy. If she believes it is worth notice, then we should heed young Éclair, and her companion … I’m sorry, lad. What was your name again?”

More Wielders got up to argue. Only Eramar remained silent. As the room dissolved into turmoil, a column of fire originating from Saria roared through the air and drove everyone to their seats. The air felt so hot that Ryan’s eyebrows and hair got singed a bit, though Éclair knew enough to duck when the Minister was in a rage. His expression seemed to be a cross between childish wonder and pure terror.

Saria Kaves, arguably the most powerful woman on the planet, studied Ryan carefully before turning to Éclair and saying, “You’re absolutely sure that you heard that voice again … the one from the Fire Spirits.”

Éclair wasn't sure what she meant by Fire Spirits, but she knew she heard the same voice that had come out of the sacred flames. “Yes, my lady. I will stake my life on it.”

Saria sat back in her chair and sighed. She muttered, “This is just what I need. The nerve of him … dumping this on my plate now of all times.” Saria then addressed Ryan. “Did you pass the Test of Flames, boy?”

Ryan looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole as he said in a meek voice, “If by ‘Test of Flames’, you mean that very traumatic near-death experience with the fireballs and the fiery lion … then yeah, I guess I passed it … I think. Though, for the record, I’m probably scarred for life now. Just thought you should know when you get my therapy bills.”

Though Ryan joked around, as usual, he still seemed to be having trouble finding his voice. However, the fact that he still had the courage to make light in front of the Minister wasn't lost upon the council. Many of the Wielders seemed baffled by Ryan’s clear lack of decorum. Others acted bewildered by Ryan’s description of the lion in the flames, discussing it in hushed tones amongst themselves. But some seemed to comprehend what Ryan said and appeared worried.

Just what is going on that Saria isn’t telling me, thought Éclair to herself.

Saria, who had remained quiet throughout this exchange, rubbed her forehead as if troubled by problems she wished to forget, and then she rose from her chair as if coming to a decision. “The flames have spoken. Ryan Uruks must join the ranks of Squad 99.”

Many of the Wielders objected immediately. “This is not our way,” said one. “Squad 99 comprises our elites of the future, the finest students to join our ranks in years. We can’t let an upstart Grunt join without even going through the rights of passage!”

Another got up and said, “This goes against all our most sacred traditions! Also, why isn’t he wearing shoes?!”

One melancholy Wielder just groaned and said, “Who cares about his shoes?! This isn’t important enough to be brought to the council’s attention! Let the Fourths deal with it!”

A fat Wielder with a large red beard decided to say something totally random and off-topic. “I’m hungry! Can we get some fried pickles in here? And those drinks with the little umbrellas inside them?” Most peculiar of all, he said it with a completely straight face, as if he spoke about the most serious subject imaginable.

Then Eramar rose to his feet for the first time, and every mouth in the room closed. “I propose a compromise. Since the brat has caused such an inconvenience, I say he should still continue his lessons as a Grunt while working with Squad 99 all he can. If he really is exemplary, he should graduate from Grunt to First in no time.”

Ryan’s old rebellious streak came to light again as he protested. “Hold on a second! How am I supposed to keep up with my regular lessons as a Grunt while training alongside the best of the best?”

Eramar smiled in amusement. “As the old saying goes, ‘if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.’ Fire pun intended. Part of Elemency is learning how to adapt in tough situations. If you don’t like it, then you should run back to the little Lioness while you still can.”

That seemed to hit a nerve. Leave it to Ryan Uruks not back down from one of the most powerful men in the Ministry of Fire. All reason and intimidation lost in a fit of rage, Ryan stomped to the table’s edge and pounded a fiery fist in front of Eramar. Éclair almost thought she felt an electrical current emanating from him.

“What’s your problem, you greasy old fart! I don’t care if you were my hero at some point … if you say another word against Auntie Hannah again, then you and I can take this outside!” cried out Ryan, glowering with contempt at his former idol. 

A stunned silence swept over the crowd at Ryan’s display of insolence and bravado. There were very few people in the universe who were dumb enough to challenge the Demon Slayer. Of all the members on the council, excluding the Fire Minister, he was more feared than anybody in the Ministry of Fire … and with good reason.

 Eramar grinned slightly at Ryan, as if grudgingly admiring his courage. “You’re Brianna’s son alright."

Saria turned to Eramar with a bemused expression. “I think you may have been wrong about this one. He doesn’t seem that easily intimidated.”

“That’s only because the boy doesn’t know me that well.”

Saria nodded. “Not yet perhaps. I’ve made my decision. Ryan Uruks shall join Squad 99. And Eramar shall bring him up to speed in the basics of Elemency until he’s ready to graduate from Grunt to First.”

            Eramar looked even more surprised than Ryan did. “My lady. I am no longer part of Squad 99. I’m a member of the council now. I haven’t had a student under my tutelage for years.”

            Saria spoke with part sympathy, and part bemusement. “You’re always complaining about how boring it is for you here, how you weren’t suited for desk life. I’m doing this as much for your benefit as the child’s.”

            A sorrowful expression fell over Eramar's face. “My lady. After what happened before, I hardly think that I am qualified to train another-”

            Saria paid him no heed. “It is decided. Éclair, accompany our bold young friend to his quarters and inform the rest of your squad of this development.”

A curious and almost dangerous glint flashed in Saria’s smile as she said, “I’m sure Grafael will be more than eager to meet our newest addition to the Grim.”  

Éclair had been so frantic to get Ryan accepted as a member of the team that she'd forgotten all about Grafael’s ‘initiation’ ceremony. Of all the members on the team, Grafael was the most, well, ‘enthusiastic’ might be a word for it. The big guy meant well, and Éclair loved him like a brother, but sometimes he tended to get a little out of hand, especially when it came to new members in the squad. As far as Grafael was concerned, Squad 99 was the most distinguished position within the Ministry of Fire, and anybody who didn't demonstrate the skills of a perfect warrior, in Grafael’s opinion, shouldn't even be considered to join.

            There had been others who'd been accepted into Squad 99 officially, but after getting a taste of Grafael, they bolted. Éclair didn't really blame Grafael for his treatment of some of the others. Many of the candidates were stuck-up, privileged brats raised by some of the noble Elemental families; pampered since birth with the belief that the universe was their toy to play with.

Elementals like that simply saw Squad 99 as a means to prestige, with it being the only team to earn the name Grim within the Ministry of Fire. These Elementals graduated top of their Grunt class, passed all the exams, and generally thought themselves infallible. However, after a little intimidation by half a ton of pure Saurian muscle, they showed their true colors as the spoiled little wimps their parents had raised them to be.

Though Ryan shared little attributes in common with those former candidates, Grafael would still see it as his duty and honor to test any new additions to the team. And the fact that Ryan was still a Grunt wouldn't help his case.

            Poor boy, thought Éclair. 

            After Éclair dropped off a confused Ryan in his quarters, she decided to meet up with Grafael and the others. Truthfully, Éclair missed her big lizard more than she was willing to admit. Grafael had been away on assignment and she hadn’t seen him in a few weeks. Éclair and Grafael had been through a lot together and the dumb brute declared Éclair to be his protectorate.

It meant that he literally made it his life’s mission to look after Éclair and to give his life to protect her if need be. No matter how much she complained about his constant vigilance, the giant lizard refused to relent. In Éclair’s heart, she actually felt glad to have a friend who cared about her enough to swear his undying allegiance to her, but that didn't make his macho ways any less annoying. Éclair knew that Grafael would be devastated to find out that she had the audacity to go on a mission without him there to protect her. And yes, he would use the word ‘audacity.’

Might as well get it over with. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be so distracted by the fact that I went on a mission without him that he’ll forget all about testing Ryan. The boy just made it to the Ministry after dreaming about it for years, so I don’t want Grafael scaring him away; or worse, sending him home on a stretcher.

Éclair stopped at the door to her quarters; she knew he was inside waiting for her. She sensed the lizard-man’s presence just beyond the door. So, bracing herself for the melodrama, Éclair walked through the threshold.

Éclair stepped into her quarters to be confronted by an eight-foot-tall, blue-scaled Raptor Warrior in full red and silver armor, lethally armed with a large battle hammer that weighed close to his own body weight. Saurians, or Wingless Dragons as some called them, had long been feared throughout the universe as the strongest and most ruthless warriors to ever exist, and this one did not look happy.

Grafael T’Macor’s azure reptilian eyes fixed on Éclair like a bird of prey. The muscles in his neck bulged with the slightest movement of his body. The large reptile had more muscle in his clawed fingers than most men had in their whole bodies. His scales were rough and very sharp with a light-blue glow similar to jewels. Three sharp spikes rested on top of his head. His face was lizard-like, yes; but also possessed a human quality and intelligence that made him seem even more intimidating. He had small, slightly pointed ears on the sides of his head, slightly Elf-like, though not nearly as prominent.

His jaw was slightly elongated, but his face and eyes were of such a quality that it almost gave off a semi-humanoid appearance. Whenever a Saurian got angry, his jaw stretched out even further like a serpent, and his fangs extended like knives.

Grafael’s tail twitched and thumbed against the floor impatiently. Most people spent so much time thinking about how imposing the Saurian’s front is that they forget the fact that he is a dinosaur, and dinosaurs have tails. It is often the Saurian’s tail, which is also attributed as their symbol of honor, that is the most deciding factor in battle. Saurians used their tails with whip-like precision and speed to crush bones and raise contusions. All in all, Grafael T’Macor was just as frightening as the day that Éclair had first met him, and yet she stood in his presence completely unafraid.

             Grafael glared at Éclair and began his usual rhetoric in his deep, drum-like voice. “Éclair Hamashe! You have shamed me! By the powers of Rhuknor, you have shamed me!” Grafael’s vocal cords were much more powerful than the average human, so even when he spoke normally, it usually sounded like yelling.

“How dare you dishonor me like this? You have the audacity to embark upon a perilous mission without me?! Do you not value your own life? Do you not value me? If anything were to happen to you, my honor would be disgraced! I would have to travel to the Moons of Sorrow; there in the Wailing Pits of Despair would I mourn your loss without food or water until death finally took me at last!”

            Éclair waited patiently for the Saurian to finish. Grafael was one of the few confidants privy to Éclair’s true family name. Despite the intensity of his words, she knew that he just acted overdramatically. Give him a mug of his favorite drink, an ancient beverage called Dr. Pepper which was curiously intoxicating to Saurian physiology, and he'd be as cheerful as the sun.

The thought made Éclair smile. When she'd first met him, once she got over how big and scary Grafael looked, she found him kind of hilarious. Plus, Éclair stayed with him long enough to know him to be a very gentle creature at heart, but he'd sooner die before admitting as much to anyone.

With an indifferent wave of her hand, Éclair said, “It’s not like I can’t take care of myself, you know. You trained me in hand-to-hand combat yourself, and I’m almost at Second-Level of mastery. I’m already considered a full-fledged Elemental - plus I’ve been on plenty of missions without you before, and I’ve never had so much as a scratch since joining the Ministry.”

Grafael winced ever so slightly with hurt.

Despite his bluster, he was really very sensitive, so Éclair decided to speak less harshly. “And you know that I do value you, Grafy. Heaven knows, you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. But I think you also know that you can’t always be there to look after me. Sometimes you’ve got to give a bird some space so she can fly.”

Éclair immediately regretted what she said. Most Saurians of the core worlds considered it an insult to use metaphors in a sentence. Saurians said what they meant and they meant what they said, and anyone who tried to disguise the meaning of their words with clever symbolisms was most likely attempting deception and was unworthy of honor. In some cases, people who used sarcasm were killed on the spot. Be that is it may, Grafael knew her well enough not to be too offended, and as belligerent as he seemed, he was actually quite liberal for a Wingless Dragon.

But that didn't mean that Grafy was entirely unoffended. “So this is what our relationship has come to. Without nary a word of warning, you spurn me, sprout your metaphorical wings, and fly to where I cannot follow. Oh, the shame upon my honor. That I would live to see the day that you, my most precious comrade, would insult me so much that you would dare to use a metaphor in my presence.”

Éclair rolled her eyes. Here comes the suicide threats.

“There is only one way to regain my dignity after this infraction,” declared the Wingless Dragon, bringing his tail to dangle by his head. “I will use my own tail to strangle myself right here so that the last thing that I see is you, strong and proud as you are now. Then I may not behold the dangers that await you … the dangers that I will not be there to vanquish for you.”

Éclair tried to stop him before he started going overboard. “Come on, Grafy. Don’t be like that.” Éclair purposefully used his nickname that he hated to draw him out of his daze, but he was on a melodramatic roll.

“No! You’re right! Far too easy a death for the heir of T’Macor. Even in my shame, I deserve one last chance for glory,” continued Grafael as he paused in thought for a moment, and then snapped his clawed fingers. “I know! I will go to the cursed worlds of the Forbidden Galaxies. There I will challenge the entire Morlock Horde to mortal combat. I will lay siege to their armies, upheave their fortresses and destroy as many as I can until my dying breath.

“I will perish with thousands of my ancient foes plunging to the depths of oblivion with me. It will be a battle worthy of remembrance. Songs will be sung … stories will be told. And maybe after I have achieved superb glory in death, I can count on a tiny bit of sorrow from the proud Éclair Hamashe who condemned me to my fate.”

This guy should write poetry, that is if he didn’t consider all poets to be spineless cowards who deserved to be slain on sight.

Grafael was one of the few beings who could say Éclair’s last name out loud. Although it didn't worry her since the psionic spell had been weaved to make it impossible for anyone to even hear the name Hamashe, so her secret would be kept even if he screamed her last name.

Éclair crossed her arms impatiently. “Are you done yet, or are you really going to kill yourself?”

Grafael pouted sheepishly as he turned from Éclair, and for once spoke in a soft voice. “I guess … if you say you’re sorry … just a little. Then I suppose I may postpone my demise … this time … maybe. But only if you are sincere.”

Of all the stubborn warriors in the galaxy, I get stuck with one who wears his feelings on his sleeves.

Éclair huffed but took on a more contrite posture. After being with the chauvinist brute for so long, Éclair grew accustomed to his antics. Besides, if Éclair refused to make allowances for her friends, how could she expect them to make allowances for her? So Éclair hugged Grafy the way she always did when they made up. A difficult undertaking since she only came up to his midsection.

“Alright, alright,” conceded Éclair. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that I was going on a mission. But honestly, you worry too much.”

Grafael exhaled, the battle driven out of him. “I only worry, my lady, because you are all that is left to me. Without you, my life would be void and meaningless, and what little honor I have left would be gone.”

The Saurian Warrior’s words, so full of sorrow and misery, almost brought Éclair to tears. Éclair knew the sordid details of Grafael’s past … how his homeworld abandoned him and how he'd been forced to live his life in exile on an alien planet. Éclair locked eyes with the Saurian, full of both pride and anguish.

“Don’t worry, Grafy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Grafael smiled down at her with brotherly affection. Éclair then reached up and tickled Grafael under the chin. All of the Dragon races had a soft spot on their otherwise impervious bodies that if tickled, it made them go to pieces. Éclair tried it out whenever she got the chance because not only did Grafael get a kick out of it, but watching him turn different colors and laugh maniacally was a riot. The experience could be described as kind of like scratching the spot on a dog that made him wag his tail and thump his legs. Try as he might, the Saurian failed to contain the mirth that poured from his mouth.

“HA! HA! HA!”

Grafael's laughter sounded like a mini earthquake. Without further ado, Grafael scooped up Éclair like a doll, and tickled her as well. They laughed themselves silly as they got into a tickle fight. That would’ve been fine, except for the fact that Leon walked in to see Éclair giggling like a little girl.

“Leon,” Éclair stammered with a fair bit of panic as she disentangled herself from Grafael.

Leon smiled his silky-smooth smile that melted Éclair’s heart and spoke in his perfect, fluid voice. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.” He had an amused expression on his face.

This is the worst possible timing!

Since Éclair had just returned from a mission, she hardly had the time to shower and put on a fresh dose of perfume. Her hair was a disaster, and her clothes were still dirty and tattered from fighting the mercenaries yesterday.

Éclair tried to subtly pat her hair down as she attempted to distract him with idle conversation. “Oh, Leon, what perfect timing! We were just talking about you.”

“We were?” asked Grafael.

Éclair gave him a quick kick in the shin that would’ve brought any other man to tears, but being a Wingless Dragon, Grafael hardly noticed. However, Éclair certainly noticed the backlash to her foot, and it took all her willpower to keep a straight face.

Luckily, Leon seemed not to heed Éclair’s disheveled appearance as he turned a serious expression on Grafael. “So, have you heard?”

Grafael smiled wickedly. “Oh, yes. Rachel told me a few moments ago. So, we have a new addition to the Grim, and an unchallenged Grunt no less. I will remedy that soon enough.”

Éclair felt like someone slapped her in the face. So much for keeping him in the dark and sparing Ryan.

“Wait! How the Graymor did Rachel find out?!”

Rachel seemed to materialize right behind Leon grinning evilly.

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

“You’re not the only one who has the council’s ear, you know. Nothing stays secret for long, especially from me.”

Éclair had to admit that her conniving stepsister did have an annoying habit of knowing everything.

Leon regarded Éclair with his dark eyes, which she found both intoxicating and uncomfortable. “You are sure of this. The prophecy from three years ago is coming to light.”

Éclair tried to appear as confident as possible, but it was difficult enough to keep from drooling at Leon's perfect physique. “Yes, absolutely!”

Leon’s face betrayed the tiniest bit of annoyance, but he also seemed resolute at the same time. “Then as much as we may not like it, we have to accept the Grunt into our ranks.

Grafael growled like someone had just drawn pictures on his tail. “Not until I am certain he is worthy of this mantle.”

Éclair wanted to object, but Leon beat her to the punch. “Listen, Grafael. I don’t like it any more than you do. Not only is the council going over our heads, which annoys me more than you know … on top of that, it’s some second-rate punk that we just scraped off the streets. But orders are orders, and the council won’t take kindly to you beating the living daylights out of the boy … especially after what happened last time.”

Grafael seemed ready to explode as his nostrils flared indignantly. “That rapscallion got what he deserved. Not only was he a coward, but he also insulted the honor of Lady Hamashe. He earned my wrath ten-fold and should consider himself fortunate that I left some bones intact.”

Leon smiled ever so slightly. “I know, or perhaps you forget that I was the one who helped throw him out the window. But that doesn’t change the fact that you tend to go overboard in situations like this. So perhaps we should just let it slide this time, huh?”

Leon had such a smooth way of talking that Éclair thought his manner convincing even for a Wingless Dragon, but Grafael proved too stubborn for him. “What if I don’t challenge him outright like the others? Instead, I will test his fortitude and see if he is a being of decency and honor through more democratic means.”

“Oh, no,” said Éclair. “I’ve seen the way you like to ‘test’ people. You could make a full-grown Griffin beg for his nest. And you wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘democratic’ if I gave you a thesaurus. Besides, he’s already passed the Test of Flames.”

“You know that the Test of Flames is not always an accurate way to gauge a warrior’s mettle,” said Grafael. “All he had to do was stand there. Any novice can do that.”

“Exactly! He is a novice! Which means that he’s not ready for this kind of test,” replied Éclair. “I say that if there must be some kind of initiation, then I should be the one to test Ryan. Even if he's an inconvenience for the team, we still need him … preferably with all his bones intact.”

“Won't break anyone's bones unless they deserve it,” mumbled Grafael.

Leon held up his hand. “I think Grafael’s right. We all have gone through the rights of passage. We have all earned the right to be here … but Ryan Uruks has not. Even if it means annoying the council, Grafael should be the one to test the boy.”

Éclair wanted to object, but she knew that once Leon had made up his mind about something, nothing would budge him. One of the few defects about his personality, but Éclair had learned to cope with most ignorant, male chauvinistic behavior.

Before they left, Éclair held up a finger and addressed Grafael in a cold voice. “No fighting! Right, Grafy?!”

Grafael chuckled and said, “Please. What do you take me for? Like I’d be caught dead battling an amateur.”