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As I stepped cautiously into the dimly lit passageway, the air grew heavy with an intangible anticipation and I felt like I was entering a new world. My heart pounded in my chest, matching the rhythm of each cautious step I took. The stone floor echoed beneath me, amplifying the sound as if it were a blaring alarm. When Drake put his hand in mine… The sight of the magnificent chamber and the falls was simply stunning.
The mansion is stunning.
From where I stand now, I can see that the cavern’s roof is adorned with glittering stalactites that drip with a mysterious luminescence. There are plenty of things about this magical place to draw my attention.
Absolutely none of them matter at the moment.
The intangible anticipation for this place doesn’t do justice to what I see now. It’s a dragon.
A real dragon.
I must be high.
I must have died on the mountain. No. I’m in a coma and all of this is a dream. I look around and call, “Drake? Where are you?”
And the dragon says, “I am Drake.”
The voice is his. It’s exactly his voice. I stare in wonder. The dragon’s body is enormous but in relation to its form, slender. The slender body appears like a living spectrum, shimmering with ethereal colors that cascade across every scale. As the dragon lifts its head, vibrant hues envelop the cavern, reflected by the light or, I suppose, by the dragon itself. The sight leaves me spellbound in its kaleidoscope brilliance. Its wings, nestled against its body wings, send prismatic rainbows arching through the air, dancing playfully on the cavern walls. It is as if the dragon itself is a walking, breathing embodiment of all the colors and…
“Are you really Drake?” I ask.
“It’s me,” it says.
No. Notit. He. He says it.
And… well, I don’t know how it happens but all the fear is gone. Instead, I’m just enthralled. It isn’t just the visual spectacle that enthralls me. The air is alive with a scent, both exotic and otherworldly, wafting from the creature's every breath. A heady mixture of smoky sulfur, hints of wildflowers, and arcane energy (if that makes any sense) envelops my senses, seizing my attention as though I’m being pulled into a trance. Each inhalation fills my lungs with the intoxicating aroma, leaving me yearning for more while simultaneously fearing the consequences.
It's like a kiss.
Like a kiss after he’s smoked one of his aromatic pipes.
It almost sounds like music, though. What I mean is the sight of him appeals to everything about my senses, so it’s kind of like… Hell, I can’t explain it. It’s like I’m seeing music. As I stand there, enraptured, I can almost hear whispers of long-forgotten legends and secrets, carried upon invisible currents that only this mythical creature possesses.
Through the tangible silence, I reach out hesitantly as if to touch the mirage of colors rippling before me. The dragon's radiant gaze—no, Drake’s radiant gaze--meets mine, and he does away with my hesitation by simply leaning forward so his massive head, larger than me, is against my hand. “You were… you were the dragon I saw on the mountain.”
He’s suddenly in front of me, human again, and my hand is on his cheek. “But you didn’t look like this there,” I say. I realize I’m whispering.
“We have certain… qualities,” he says, “qualities that are only available to us underground. Above the earth I am…”
I giggle. “I saw you, remember?”
Okay. Reality check. I just discovered there’s an impossible wonderland in the center of this mountain. That’s insane enough, right? Then, I see a real dragon who happens to be the father of my child!
And I’m giggling?
“This is a whole lot to take in,” I say, looking around in wonder again. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to figure it out.”
“What would you like to do?” He asks.
Listen, if you paid me a million dollars, I just wouldn’t be able to come up with the right words for why I say what I say. I don’t know why the one thing that I’m sure about is Drake. I say, “I would like you to take me home.” I can see the disappointment on his face and I point to the impossible mansion. “My new home, Drake. Our home.”
Epilogue: Three Years Later
Sienna
"Oh, Drake," I whisper softly as his hands move lightly over my skin. I have to say that it's strange to be both comforted and calmed by his attention and simultaneously stimulated and excited.
I think it must be the romance of the moment.
