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On the four hundredth anniversary of his exile, Timofey was restless. He couldn’t sit still and drew no comfort from the elegant surroundings he’d created. His home felt like a prison, and a desire to be outside under the stars overwhelmed him. Timofey threw the door open and ran into the night. He needed to move and feel the wind in his hair and the air on his skin.
He ran far beyond his usual territory. Eventually, he stumbled upon a town that hadn’t existed the last time he’d come this far. Timofey experienced a wave of longing for civilization and the company of other sentient creatures. He wandered closer to the village, following strains of the first music he’d heard in centuries into a small tavern.
Dazed, he stumbled through the door and was greeted by an angel. She was pale and pretty, with long, curling black hair and honey-colored eyes.
“Welcome, stranger.” Her voice was clear and melodic.
Her voice seared into his memory. She led him to a seat and treated him like royalty, bringing out food and drink and catering to his every need. After so long alone, his manners were rough and uncouth, and his voice gravelly from disuse. The boisterous tavern jarred his nerves, so he kept to himself. Those who noticed Timofey watched him warily and kept their distance, but Elizaveta repeatedly returned to check on him.
It took him some time to relax, but after he did, Timofey enjoyed himself among the humans. He felt foolish for extending his exile to them, having fallen victim to the Therian mindset that said humans were inferior. He’d been so stuck in his bitter anger that he’d robbed himself.
He loved the small town and was entranced by the lights and sounds. Timofey was enchanted by Elizaveta, and he came back many times to court her before she gave him her heart. He was astonished by how accepting the humans were, far more than his people, and Timofey’s hatred for Therians solidified.
When Elizaveta agreed to marry Timofey, he felt like he had risen from a long slumber. He was happy again. He had always been a talented hunter, and he’d honed those skills during his time in the mountains. Timofey took that role on for the town and regularly delivered fresh meat to the market. He built a small but comfortable home for Elizaveta and renounced his Therian heritage and traditions to live as a human.
Timofey did not tell his wife what he was. He hadn’t changed to dragon form since he’d been exiled. Then Elizaveta joyfully announced that she was pregnant. He knew he would have to confess, and he was terrified about her reaction to the news. At first, she thought it was a poor joke, but his expression when she laughed told her he was serious.
“A dragon? You expect me to believe you turn into a dragon?” She looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. Only in myths were the Therians known to her people. There were no gods in these mountains.
“Yes! Why would I lie about this?” Timofey shouted in frustration. He had to make her understand the danger he’d put her in.
Elizaveta looked hurt. “Then why did you wait this long to tell me, Timo?”
He had the grace to look ashamed. “I didn’t think about us having children, and now I’ve put you at terrible risk. Our union is forbidden.”
She glared at him coldly. “So, I’m good enough to marry and bed a dragon but not good enough to bear your child?”
He shook his head. “My love, it’s not like that, I promise.” His voice broke with emotion when he realized he might lose her. “I left that life behind more than four hundred years ago.”
“It caught up with you,” she growled.
Timofey paled, losing hope. “Do you want me to leave?”
Elizaveta’s face reflected shock, then anger. “Of course not, you abysmal fool! I am angry that you kept it from me, but I still love you, and we wed. Your vow to me before God is higher than your other obligations. We are going to have this child and raise it with all our love. However, you mentioned risks. Tell me about those.”
Relief flooded through him, and he collapsed on a chair. She didn’t want him to leave. It seemed that she would accept what he was, but he was still conflicted. He loved Elizaveta and wanted to build a family with her, but what if bearing his child killed her?
Mating with humans was forbidden on pain of death, but he didn’t know if there was more than prejudice behind the law. To his knowledge, only a handful of Therians had dared mate with a human, and none had lived long enough to sire children.
Nothing less than the truth would keep Elizaveta by his side, so he told her everything he knew. Although he had been a bachelor during his time at court, he knew that pureblooded Therian children were born in human form and could shift a few years after birth and that the mothers typically had accelerated pregnancies.
He knew nothing about Therian-human hybrids.
Elizaveta managed the pregnancy with grace. Aside from unusual cravings, it was like any human’s experience, though it was a grueling six months. The birth was brutal, and though Elizaveta survived, it nearly took her life. They decided not to have more children and poured all their love and attention into their son Maksim. He was a strong, healthy boy, and as far as Timofey knew, Maksim was the only half-Therian in existence. Shortly after his birth, they moved to Timofey’s isolated mountain home for protection.
The boy grew quickly, failing to exhibit any signs that he’d inherited his father’s powers. Most Therian fathers would have been devastated, but Timofey was overjoyed since he had accepted his human existence. He still hated dragons and the nobility in particular. He and his wanted nothing to do with the Therian world.
Though he hated his species, Maksim would be in danger if he ever encountered another Therian, so Timofey educated his son. Throughout his childhood, Maksim heard tales of Therian cruelty and the madness of King Nikoli, who ruled with terror and injustice. So consumed was he with hatred for his people that Timofey neglected to mention witches or vampires and their evil queen who’d driven Nikoli insane.
Maksim believed that Nikoli was a dictator who cared nothing for his subjects and considered them disposable. He’d adopted Timofey’s hatred of the dragons, and since he could not shift, he saw no reason to indulge that side of himself. His father had told him that he’d been wrongly exiled for a minor offense, and Maksim vowed to one day avenge the wrongs committed against his father.
The only Therian trait Maksim appeared to have inherited was a long lifespan. As the years passed, Elizaveta grew old and frail, but Timofey and Maksim remained young and strong. She died in her sleep while Maksim was in his mid-thirties.
Timofey was shattered by Elizaveta’s death, and he withdrew from his son and the world. The joy gone from his life, he spent his time ranting about the mad king and his unjust exile.
Maksim fought to stay close to his father, refusing to allow the abrasive man to push him away. He wanted to please Timofey and worked to earn his praise, though he rarely succeeded. He made regular visits to the human village, but Timofey never joined him.
Timofey’s Home, Wednesday, December 12, 2012
