Synopsis: Darius and Cynthia Jem are as unlikely a couple as one could expect. Who could have ever imagined that an egotistical werewolf and a once-harmed, peace-loving fey-dragon would be compatible with one another. But through trials and tribulations they have crafted a bond that has lasted a lifetime, and they now reflect on the origins of their past as they gaze towards their shared future.

*******

The Fey-Dragon

by K9Lupus


Even after all of this time, his beloved Cynthia was still as lovely as the first day they had met those many years ago. It baffled Darius to consider just how much had transpired since then. On their many adventures they had tasted the often sweet, sometimes bitter fruits of life's affairs. At each other's sides they savored countless, wonderful whimsies and endured terrifying tragedies. But the world would, nor could not shake them from their unexpected life path; they had pledged to be together, and both were far too stubborn to consider otherwise.

Darius never tired of seeing the warm glow of the early morning light illuminate Cynthia's yellow scales with a pale orange blush, or the way the sunrise seemed captured within her broad, butterfly-like wings as she sat seated beneath her favorite tree in front of their lovely home. The way she sipped her honey tea there, every day she could, with a contented smile across her muzzle eased back at least some of the seemingly never-ending exhaustion of new parenthood etched into Darius's strong features. Getting their son Zeydaan to finally sleep was as much and honorable a victory as any past successful siege to a warring land. Those days were far behind Darius now, and in place of his previous unfiltered drive towards power was a newfound peace immersed in the light of his family.

“Thought I might find you out here,” Darius said with his hands folded up against his hips in a mock, accusatory expression.

“Where else would I be?” Cynthia answered back without so much as a glance up from her tea. A grin creased the edge of her muzzle before she gently patted the ground beside her. Darius happily took up the invitation, and sat down at his beloved's side.

Silence filled the space between them, but there was so much more they had learned to attend to during such moments. The quiet puff and fall of their breathing mixed with the gentle summer breeze tossing the leaves above them into a haphazard sway. The scent of Cynthia's tea wafted around her in a sweet perfume and all the while the sun continued its slow, unstoppable rise above the distant hillside.

“Today's going to be a great day,” Darius spoke with hushed breath into the boundless ether.

A quiet clang rang out as Cynthia lowered the cup of tea from her lips down to its saucer, and set it aside with a twist of her head towards Darius, the smile still on her face.

“Each day is great with you,” she said, reaching over with her hand to lace her fingers with his, still warm from the ambient heat of the tea.

Darius completed their hand hold, chuckled a booming sound, then flashed Cynthia an incredulous quirk of his brow.

“I don't know about every day. We've been through some pretty outlandish affairs if I do say so myself.”

Cynthia grinned, showing off her array of glistening fangs with all the unyielding, loving adoration that could be ascribed to the stunning Fey-dragon Darius Jem had chosen to be his.

“Those are the spices of life, and we have managed to enjoy a full rack's worth. It means these earned moments at your side are all the more flavorful and nourishing.”

Her gaze softened as she studied the sleepless bags under Darius's eyes, appreciating his presence more than she could ever hope to express.

“Thank you...for everything.”

The weight of her words rang true in Darius's heart, and he brushed his thumb over one of her scaled knuckles.

“For you, anything. That's the easy part. It's when other people have gotten in the way that it gets all mucked up,” he roared in a boisterous laugh. He gathered himself, and a thoughtful air entered his expression once more.

“Been thinking a lot about times before. Not sure why. We have so much we enjoy now that I feel foolish for holding onto the past like that.

Cynthia hummed a melodious tone that faintly rumbled through her elongated neck.

“The past is what we use to inform the future dear Darius. And the future is exactly what is sleeping soundly, thank the gods, up in his room of the house you so lovingly crafted for us.”

A worn, sleepy smile traced its way onto the edges of Darius's lips.

“Do you remember when we first met one another? It was through a tea portal just like what you're sipping right now.” he reminisced, his eyes glazed over in loving memory.

“Oh how could I ever forget such a grand and brash occasion as laying my eyes on you. You were really something to be seen back then.”

Darius glared at her, and now it was her turn to lean flush against the tree in a chorus of laughter.

“To think two monstrosities such as us would find happiness. It does indeed lurk in the strangest and most unexpected of places. I remember that day all too well. It was the best day, for both of us, even if we didn't know it at the time.”

*******

The world was a much different place then, those centuries long ago. Full of narrowed beliefs, greed-filled eyes, and boundaries of misunderstanding cast in blood and sealed away within stone walls, mankind separated itself from their wilder kin who dwelled within the frontiers and outskirts they had been relegated toward. Although they too spoke their words and walked as they did, they bore such profound and unmistakable features of the animal world that man could only look upon them as other. And what was other they feared.

In their lust for glory, one clan of man baring the family crest of Jem adorned with its spiral-horned ram sought out the lurking, golden dragon of the woods. They found her, and introduced her to the unfounded cruelty of the world she had been shielded from since birth as they set her forest ablaze.

The other animal-folk and wild creatures scattered, their eyes rolled back in fear as they fled the ravenous flames. The dragon stayed to meet the assault that approached her like a wave of leather and steel flowing across the charred grass. The people, cloaked in furs and breath laced with drunken cackles of the riches and glory that awaited them approached with a glint of shimmering, confident conquest radiating in their gaze. This unfathomable siege of life was not their first time the dragon realized sadly.

To her surprise however, pushing through the throng of men was a boy, nearly a young man who ran unabashed to stand still between both sides.

“No!!! They've done nothing. They're already gone for the farms. Leave her alone!” the boy shouted out to the crowd.

A burly man with a ragged beard signaled to his men to stop with a clenched fist, then loomed over the boy with a misshapen smile peppered by missing teeth.

“You'd do your best to skidaddle now little Patrick. Wouldn't want any blood on ya. Take a gander though because these are the moments when true men are forged!”

The crowd behind him erupted into cheers, and Patrick trembled beneath the weight of his helplessness. The boy had grown so tired of watching the same scenes play out again and again before him. This time it would be different. He gritted his teeth hard, shoved against the man's mighty chest, who moved scarcely an inch back before Patrick doubled at a sprint in the opposite direction straight towards the dragon.

The beast with the butterfly wings, wondered if this was perhaps another ruse to lower her guard. She reared up and made herself as bold and bright as she possibly could in the light of sun shining down on the charred remains of her once verdant forest. Still the boy ran toward her, and with the dragon's eye fixated upon his small face etched with determination, Patrick's arms flung out on either side of him as if he deployed his own fledgling wings.

“I'll protect you,” his soft words rippled out, only audible to the dragon's acute hearing before the appearance of the arrow plunged through his chest appeared as a horrifying monolith. The boy stumbled forward to close the last of the distance between him and the dragon, his arms coming to rest in a loose hug across the base of her broad neck. The dragon's eyes widened in disbelief, and still the boy's shaky breaths came until they didn't anymore, and he slowly slid against her to rest lifeless upon the ground, a red streak of blood marring the otherwise pristine white of her neck and chest scales.

“You now know the ways of the world dragon. The weak are culled. The strong thrive,” the burly man said with a grin buried within his beard that crinkled his cheeks before he raised his closed fist high and opened it to signal the rest to charge forward.

All the dragon could remember afterward was the searing fury that boiled her in her blood that found its mark against each of her attackers as they fell in clumps to her mighty claws, teeth, and tail. At the end of it all, only she was still breathing, her legs weary from her exhaustive combat. She wheeled her head around the battlefield to where the boy, Patrick they had called him she remembered, still lay with his arms stretched forward toward a different path than the rest of his brethren had wished to take, one of a foolhardy peace, but a peace none the less.

You had no role in this tragedy. That is clear from your actions and your sacrifice. May you go on to be better than they, to remember what they have forgotten of the connection between us all.

The dragon breathed wisps of silvery, frosted breath into the boy, and shortly after, the foreign intrusion of the pierced arrow pressed free of his body through the force of the newly stitched together tissue. The boy sat up with a start, frantic and alarmed and looked into the dragon's watchful eyes. Then he saw everything else. The violent carnage before him overwhelmed Patrick and caused him to fall unconscious once more. The dragon spared the boy one last pity, and picked him up within her teeth to place gently on her back to return to the outskirts of the nearest settlement.

The dragon understood the cost of what she had bestowed upon the boy. Fey magic is deeply rooted, and all benefit must come with its complement. The magic she had placed upon Patrick echoed out not only through him, but throughout his entire bloodline, cursing the family to adopt increasingly more profound change towards a more wild, wolven form with each successive generation.

The family bared a powerful grudge towards the dragon for this last mockery placed upon them, and so they came after her in force, again and again in desperate hopes to remove the curse that they all failed to realize had been the source of their very life to begin with.

While man and the other wild-folk in that time had made strides towards growing closer together, the golden dragon still carried knowledge of their violent capacity within her, and so while others moved closer, she stayed far away until one had discovered a means of reaching her.

*******

This will be close enough I suppose, Darius thought as he set down a place setting in the middle of the thick, lush woods, shadowed by the all-encompassing canopy of the trees above struggling against each other for light. Looking at the forests' grand splendor now, you couldn't imagine that it had suffered such a devastating blow in years past by his own family's hands no less.

This was something he knew he must do, for it was only just and proper to thank the one that had catapulted his life into the extraordinary. He stared down into the wide bowl filled with a plethora of herbs cradled between his folded legs, and poured a healthy stream of heated water fresh from the fire to a billowing steam. As the tea set, Darius focused his mind on the image of the one he wished to reach, a figure lost to time and myth, but undoubtedly real as his life cast between man and the wild-folk was visceral proof of her influence.

The tea swirled, and as the leaves arranged themselves outward, an image began to form within the liquid. The dragon was there, in a form much closer to that of the wild-folk than the feral beast of legend that had been described to him. The dragon became aware of the magical presence about her and grunted a short-tempered growl beneath her breath.

“You would have to be bold and foolish both to think such magic would go undetected by me,” the dragon said, fixing her eyes towards the shimmer rippling within the nearby stream at her side.

“I happily welcome your complement of boldness, but I will have you know that I am no fool. I'm an adventurer; a gatherer of stories, and the centerpiece of many a tale, but you, fair dragon, are the centerpiece of the most imperative of tales concerning me.”

“What do you mean?” the dragon asked, crouching before the portal in the stream to look at her unwelcomed guest.

“I am of the Jems that have long sought out your end,” he stated matter-of-factly.

A snarl lashed out and spattered some of the contents of the tea around Darius.

“A fool and a fiend both!” The dragon's pupils narrowed to slits, and Darius understood that if it was well within her power, she would swipe her claws out to reach straight towards him at a moment's notice.

"So you sought me out like your ancestors to break the curse with my head?" she hissed.

"I despise my family; breaking the curse would be doing them a favor, and I don't have any intentions of wiping away the debts of so foul a lot."

"Then why are you here?"

“Contrary to what you may be....most reasonable to assume, I'm actually here to thank you. The others may view what has befallen our clan as a curse, but I know well and true of the gift of the strengthening, lupine blood you bestowed upon us that day. My transformations have allowed me to live in both worlds as I best see fit and master my body in ways no other could possibly understand. No one except for you.

At a whim, I am stronger, faster. I can track others for miles with my heightened senses–yet maintain my stamina and my intellect all the while. I heal with utmost haste; a deadly blow for one man would be a flesh would for me, and I can even move my organs in the blink of an eye. Should I ever have the pleasured indulgence of making enemies, my face can be erased beneath the waves of shifting skin. I have become what men in times past have only dreamed of – capable and unafraid.”

At that, the dragon watched as the man with the wolf-touched blood curled his hand upward, his fragile, delicate human fingers soon replaced by thick-set and furred over weapons tipped with curved, ebony claws. The ends of his ears stretched into triangular tips, and a haunting crimson glow strengthened his piercing gaze.

“My clan has wronged you, but I will not apologize for them. Instead I will share that I hate them too because I know better, and I am better than them. They have been destructive and cruel in their restless tactics for far too many years. It must end. We share this goal in common dragon. The boy who started all of this those hundreds of years ago had the ambition for change, but lacked the cunning I possess. He is the spark, and I shall be the fuel that burns bright for generations more.”

Despite Darius's intimidating showcase of his magical endowments, the dragon experienced a sense of ease in the display and banter this man brandished with such bold disregard for sensibility. It was clear he did not place his worth in the length or sheen of a polished blade sheathed at his hip, or delighted in the overlay and misdirection of words used like spells by humans to deceive one another. He bore a welcomed clarity–what you saw was exactly what you got.

“But I go far beyond myself speaking of such indulgences. I am Darius, and I would rather call you by a name too than claim I know you by your form alone. I doubt any of my clan has granted such a basic decency to you.”

The Fey-dragon pulled her head back. None of the Jem hunters had ever entertained such a notion with her; a new trick possibly, but then her thoughts drifted centuries back to the invoking phrase that began this whole ordeal for her, echoed in this strange man's derelict manners.

May you go on to be better than they...

Perhaps this was the time of change she had been waiting so long for.

“You would give me your name so willingly...Has your mother never warned you the fey should not be trusted with names?"

"My mother couldn't be trusted to keep her own mouth clear of both the affairs and garments of others.”

Silence filled the space between them. Then a tentative understanding.

“Cynthia. That is the easiest name for your kind to understand.” Then rippling swirls of earth and water coursed over her, eroding the scales from her body in places to assume a human form of a lovely woman wreathed in adornments of nature's bounty. She watched as Darius's brow furrowed.

"Oh, don't be disgusting- if I wanted to talk to a human, I would."

The dragon Cynthia was so blown away by the sheer honesty underlying his words, she could not help but be drawn towards him with greater interest.

"My goal is to become your equal, but I hope to never reach it. Join me, and together we can leave our mark on the world,” he said, leaning closer into the portal with a smug, contented smile.

“You're a cruel, unruly man Darius Jem, but in your words and actions I see something which may very yet be able to salvage was has been wrought across the world. And just to be abundantly clear, this is a professional matter.”

“Agreed. I completely despise children,” he said with a knowing sneer.

"Perish the thought! Could you imagine what ridiculous homunculus would end up if that happened – man, wolf, fae, dragon..."

"Or a wolf that turns into a dragon?"

"Don't make me laugh, Jem," Cynthia said with the greatest ease she had felt in centuries.

“How will I find you?” Darius asked in a softer, gentler tone.

So this is the man beneath all of that puff and show. Intriguing.

“Don't worry, I will find you,” Cynthia said with a flash of fang, and a wink of her eye before the water of Darius's tea stilled back into nothingness.

The wheels of fate had turned today for the golden dragon and the kin of the boy who trudged towards a path all his own, for now their strands were woven inexorably through time, and with time, through love.

END

*******

Recent commission completed for of some background lore exploring the origins of their character Zeydaan through the eyes of their parents Darius (a cursed werewolf) and Cynthia (the fey-dragon who put the curse on Darius's family to begin with hundreds of years ago).

Thumbnail image courtesy of repurposing 's fantastic reference sheet for the characters in question of the story here. Please be sure to check it out and leave a fave and comment on the original work. :)
Darius and Cynthia Jem Reference Sheet

Happy to work with again on this project, and hope you all enjoy it too!

~Lupus

*******

Interested in getting a story commissioned by me? I am currently open! I'd love to get the chance to bring your ideas to life. My commission info can be found here:

K9 Lupus Commission Info

If you'd like to gain early access to more work like this and other transformation stories/illustrations, please check out my Patreon page at the link below where you'll gain access to exclusive content and story updates before they are publicly released by choosing to support my work for as little as $1. Every bit goes towards me continuing to do what I love and sharing it with all of you.

Click here to check out my Patreon page!

Would love to have you join "The Wilderness" Discord Server to chat and share your work with others here on FA.