a collection of tales [[ chronocompass writing ]]

He awoke nameless, shapeless, faceless. A shadow of himself. He existed, but he couldn’t remember why. He was present, but for what reason? The stars dancing in his vision didn’t give him any explanation as to why. Opening eyes he had only just remembered he had, he stared up into the night sky and wondered who he was supposed to be.

Take in the surroundings, first. He was lying on a hill, grass wet with dew around him. Despite how cold the night must have been, he didn’t even feel a chill. He flexed one hand - ah yes, he had hands - and then the other, and then both feet, and at last he sat up in a whirl of shadow and shine. His eyes blinked curiously as he examined himself. So much gold, so many trinkets taken from some poor traveler or another. He was piecing himself back together, and he knew, conviction strong in him, that he wasn’t the sort to go around and buy things.

No, as he sat among the grass and listened to the sound of crickets, chirping a melancholy song, he knew he was made for greater things. He was to conquer the world, not the other way around. It didn’t matter if it were through tricks or traps or riddles - he was going to forge his own story, and he didn’t care what anyone else had to say about it.

Anyone else... he reached his mind out, remembering stories and riddles and the sound of rain and moonshine, and felt another awareness at the edge of his own. Several, in fact. Right, he had a rider. A dragon rider. How such an obvious fact had escaped him he didn’t know, but upon probing at his rider’s mind, he realized that to the odd feathered fellow sleeping in a canoe at the edge of the forest, he didn’t exist. The winged man didn’t know about him. Which meant he could make his entrance however he liked.

He knew he wasn’t new to this world - the trinkets he half remembered collecting were proof enough, but he was fairly sure that this was not how dragons got their start. Usually it was something involving an egg, and a lot of waiting. He was not a patient dragon. Perhaps that was why he had died, or done whatever made him forget everything, and landed him on a hill, in a field, beneath a sky that promised an eternity of adventure and trouble.

But adventure, for a dragon, meant a rider. A link to keep him alive, and a link he meant to ensure was on his side. He closed his eyes and concentrated on where his rider was right now, pictured the place in his mind. A grimy fellow, red feathers slicked with mud as camouflage. Canoe overturned to make a shelter from the wind. He saw trees, swaying in the night time breeze, and beside the feathered man, two other dragons. They, too, were asleep, curled up in a pile such as he could barely tell them apart. They were red and blue and fire and rage. Powerful. But not smart, not as smart as him. He could use that to his advantage.

His awareness turned back to his rider, still fast asleep. He gave the man’s mind a poke. No response. He was too locked into his own dreams. Thankfully, dreams were no trouble for the shadowy dragon, and he slipped on in as easily as if it was home. In a way, it was.

The rider was dreaming of a hunt - in the dream, he and his two dragons - the ones he knew about, at least - stood in a field, facing down a ferocious beast with horns and fangs and dark eyes. The dragons, the siblings, lunged for the creature at the rider’s command. Fire flashed in the sky, claws shone, and the battle began in a flurry of chaos.

He did not intervene. Neither did the rider, at first - the feathered man watched and waited, a spear held high, almost a statue if not for the wind ruffling his feathers. He pulled up beside the man, an invisible witness, and the two waited, waited, until there was a gap in the fight. The perfect moment. The spear swung true, flew through the air as if a bolt of lightning, and hit true. The beast did not remain upright much longer afterwards.

He smiled, a toothy, fanged thing that would have made him look monstrous to anyone looking. This person, this being fate had chosen to stick him with, seemed quite the dangerous man.

He really, really liked dangerous.

The two red and blue dragons were dueling in the dream, now that the main fight was over. They chased each other across the field, and he watched them go gladly. It would make the first part of his job so much easier.

He coalesced into something visible in the dream, into something more like his actual form. No longer an invisible bystander, he whisked the tip of a ragged wing across the rider’s back. As the man whirled to face him, ready for battle, he merely made himself vanish and re-appear behind the man. In dreams, such things were so simple. “Not bad,” he said, smiling that same unnerving smile. The man turned around once again, and this time he stayed present under the rider’s gaze. “Do you hunt like that often?”

The man hesitated to respond for just a moment, a moment that he took as a victory. His rider was unnerved. As he should be. “All the time. Everyone needs a problem solved, after all. As long as they’re willing to pay, I’m willing to hunt.” The man’s expression was guarded, face closed off. Either he didn’t know this was a dream, or he could sense something was different.

“Yes, I can see that. But tell me, do you hunt for the gold, or for the fun?”

The man shrugged, wings moving out to balance himself. “Bit of both. There’s trouble all over the chronoscape, things that are a thrill to track down. Pity they’re of no help.” The rider gestured out across the field, where the two dragons were still tussling in the dirt.

“Ah, of course. They can fight, they can burn down a forest or be a good distraction, but we both know they don’t have a brain between them.” He waved a hand toward the dragons, as the rider had moments ago. “You have the brawn of the operation... it looks like you’re in need of some smarts on the team.”

“It’s not a team!” the rider snapped, face contorting in sudden anger. “I didn’t want them in the first place. Turns out, with time, they didn’t want me either. Any smarts they have are spent arguing with me.” The man grimaced up at the sky. “I work alone. Was supposed to work alone. All of this dragon nonsense is ridiculous.”

He nodded in a way that he hoped looked understanding. “I can see why you’d think that’s better. Easier. You’re a skilled man, I can tell. Seeing the future, taking down the most wanted all across the galaxy. It surely couldn’t have been easy, leaving your home behind, your glorious society. But how more powerful could you be if you could read minds as well?”

“...How do you know about all that?”

“Like I said. Mind reader.” He winked with two of his three eyes, smirking all the while. “You want to go solo, I get that. But with my powers? You’d be unstoppable. Able to tell lies from truth with the flick of a finger. We’d do great things together.”

The rider paused. He could tell the man was pondering what he’d said. “And what would you want in return?”

He shrugged. “You go places. You see things. I want to come with you, trick anyone that gets in our way, and leave chaos in our wake. I’m just in it for the fun.” He wanted more than just those things, of course. He wanted to become a legend, gain every golden trinket in the whole star system, and do so all in the comfortable shadow of someone else. But the man didn’t need to know that.

“How will I find you?” The man asked, wary but willing.

“You shake my hand, and when you wake up, I’ll be there. Your new best friend.” He extended a hand wreathed in shadow and stared, unblinking, at the man across from him. The two other dragons romped across the field, spreading fire and fury, and it was to this backdrop that the man shook his hand.

“The name’s Tenoch,” The man said. “What should I call you?”

He pondered what he remembered, thought about the bright new future in front of them. Tenoch needed a name, a face that would go down in history. The shadowy dragon needed only anonymity. And staying unknown when one didn’t remember their own name was so, so, easy.

“Call me Anonymous,” The dragon said, as the handshake solidified all of his half formed hopes and dreams. His grin widened. “Non, for short.”