the dragon’s eye

somewhere near gulgudden, there’s a rock.

it’s not a big rock when compared to uluru, but it’s still significant.

it’s said that the rock, called ungulla, was raised from the earth by the world makers from the stars who called it a gateway between worlds.

in the time of the third fall of capitalism, before the coming of the lords of equinox, i found myself sitting at the base of the rock and staring up at the stars.

i’m still not sure how i got there. i was sure it wasn’t too many days before that i was sitting in my room watching tv. some history doc about the fall of the telluric curtains which once split the world into many.

after that – blankness.

i lay on the sand and felt the tentacles of life reaching into me.

ants scuttled. a snake weaved. a wallaby paused and considered its next step.

a dingo crouched.

i felt a gentle brushing as a hopping mouse whipped along the base of ungulla and it was only as its tail brushed the rock that i realised why i had come.

there’s a world – far beyond the stars. once called nibiru, it sails in the dark places of the solar system where even the sun dares not spread its wings. it fells behind the veils of magnetic dust and remains hidden for centuries at a time. sometimes, for brief moments, it dares to slide close beside this planet – its sister planet – and breathes a kiss of icy wind across the world.

it’s said that only in this brief moment as the two worlds whisper their love by touching magnetic belts, that the gateways burst with energy and if you’re of a mind and have one, you can gorge on that power, or step through it as is your wish.

to see nibiru!

its black skin merely a veil behind which paradise lays in wait.

i’ve heard of creatures on nibiru which seem straight from mythology.

sea monsters the size of islands, and unicorns and the magnificent mammoths which once were transported to this world to pull the giant lodewagons of the world makers as they formed the grazing lands of europe and asia.

and, sailing the black ink-stained skies of nibiru – dragons.

dragons with wings so dark they swallow the sun’s meagre light – a light which erupts from their eyes like small volcanoes to light their way. those magnificent wings barely beat, they simply glide through the magnetic streams, their mouths open to swallow the raw energy of the universe as in their bellies lie the greatest of machines which smash atoms against each other with such power only the immortal power of a dragon could contain.

it’s said these beasts can slide through space and time as though neither existed. as though the universe itself was merely a vehicle on which they might ride.

and, if you have tasted of the gateways, it is said you might call one beast from the sky and it would bear you forever through the abyss from star to star and world to world.

i lay there, arms outstretched, feeling the very earth beneath me breathe in anticipation, and i dreamed of dragons with their solemn eyes and shining fangs.

scales which pierced the cold vaccuum of space.

“what are you doing?”

i started. “i’m sorry?”

a face, small and amused, stared down at me.

“i asked what you were doing. don’t you know this is ungulla? it’s dangerous to lay here beside it. strange things happen to those who sit by this rock.”

i shrugged. “that’s why i’m here.”

she smiled. “that’s silly, you know. no one invites uncertainty. at least, no sane person would.”

“really? i thought that was the essence of being human? explorers. thrill seekers. politicians.”

“politicians?” she laughed with genuine pleasure, and i have to admit to feeling a sense of pride i could make her do so. “don’t speak of humanity. it’s an abstract concept. hardly worth discussing. have you seen the rock glow, yet?”

“it glows?”

“of course it glows. it’s alive, you know.”

“i know.”

“you’re an odd man,” she said, sitting down beside me, her legs crossed in the way of a prophet. “i like you, though.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“oh, i don’t think you should say such things,” she said. “you don’t even know my name.”

“and you don’t even know mine,” i countered.

“i know your name,” she said, and her smile grew so wide it looked unnatural in the dull light of the moon. “i’ve always known your name. can you guess mine?”

i lifted myself up onto my elbows and stared into her shining eyes. they were the colour of glaciers in that single moment they shatter before drowning in the sea. i shook my head. “i’m not good at guessing.”

“that’s a shame,” she said. “now you’ll never know my name.”

“where is your home? do you live around here?”

“my home is everywhere. sometimes i live here, though.”

“i didn’t see any houses.”

“there aren’t any.”

“then how do you live?”

“did you know the men who lived here before the first capitalist wave lived inside the grace of the land?”

“what do you mean by grace of the land?”

“well,” she said, picking up a small stick and whirling it around as she talked. “the land gives, if it feels generous. these days it’s not so generous. it’s scarred and bitter and wants to be left alone. it has lost its trust. but, once, it trusted and gave in abundance. those who lived here lived well. they needed no houses, and no belongings, as the land always provided. how they lived is still something modern scientists claim to know, but that’s because they assume all who came before were as children to all who will come after. those who came on the first wave always assumed the men who were here before were simply waiting for them to arrive and had spent thousands of years barely surviving. they believed they brought life to this land.”

i watched as she scooped sand into her small fist and then let it rain out between her fingers. “unfortunately,” she said. “they brought death instead.”

little bones littered the sand around us. i hadn’t noticed them before.

i nodded. “it’s the way of men.”

“it is. so obsessed with their houses they haven’t the eyes for the world. yet, you sit here. amid death and the ghosts of the dead, and you wait beside the rock which has not had company in nearly four thousand years.”

i shook my head. “my girlfriend said i have a screw loose.”

“she was right,” she giggled. “you definitely have a screw loose. you don’t even know the kind of power you’re playing with by staying here.”

i grinned back at her, and was pleased to see a slight stirring of uncertainty in her gaze as i said, “but i learn quickly.”

her eyes narrowed. “you’d better.”

i eased my grin and settled back. “i’m trying.”

“tell me – do you know the first law of magic?”

i began to reply, but before a word could escape my lips, the rock twitched.

i felt it move, though it seemed not to have done. it was as if something inside it had awoken. as if a heart, buried deep within had suddenly begun to beat.

slowly, almost achingly slowly, it began.

a beat.

thrumming in the sand.

the dingo ran.

the wallaby fled.

the mouse died as the snake pounced and as the blindness of the kill faded from its reptilian senses, it too slithered far from the rock’s presence.

i felt the sand bouncing on the surface of the planet’s skin, and i looked upward at where nibiru emerged from behind its veil.

dark purple light swelled in the sky, and ribbons of blue and green washed the atmosphere high in the night as the magnetic fields clasped each other with the gentleness of lovers’ hands entwining.

“you see it?” she asked, curiously. “nibiru?”

“of course! it’s beautiful!”

the skin of the world was smooth, like glass, and only subtle eruptions of shadow gave it any depth. it was larger still than three times the moon and so much more distant. it bared itself against the sun and i could see the solar rays cutting ridges deep into the icy hood of the world.

“not many can, you know,” she said in a quiet voice. “nibiru’s light is on a wavelength not many can see. it’s a gift to be able to see it. maybe only one in a billion are seeing what you see.”

i looked at her, incredulous. “how can they miss that? it’s a new world! it must surely take up half the sky! the very colour of the magnetic fields smashing against each other is breathtaking! how can this be invisible?”

she shrugged. “i don’t know.”

as she said those three words, something thrilled down my spine. she watched me closely as i rippled my shoulders and sat back. i noticed then a streak of green winding through her black hair. i thought it a strange colour to ripple among those dark strands. “why do you look at me like that?”

“those words, they mean something to you?”

i chewed my lip. “i think so. i just don’t know what.”

she smiled and patted my hand. “that’s okay,” she said. “you’ll know the meaning of them soon, i’m sure.” she stood, then, her white gown shining darkly in the shadow of nirubu, and walked toward the glowing rock. “my name is alia. follow,” she said. “if you will. or not, if your will is not sufficient.”

and then she blurred, and lightning struck.

as the spots of light cleared my eyes, i saw only the glowing rock of ungulla bathed in the purple light of nibiru.

i reached out and touched the rock.

i expected so much. a chill of cold. a sudden spark of energy. anything.

instead, nothing.

i slapped my hands onto its surface.

nothing.

“come on!” i grunted. “how do you work?”

the rock remained unmoving, glowing almost smugly in the night.

i looked up at nibiru, and noticed the curtains pulling away. soon it would be gone.

“let me in!” i yelled, hammering at the rock.

i cried to she who had gone before me. “you didn’t tell me how it worked!”

i crisscrossed the air between me with the only runes i knew – shadows of power, i knew.

the rock shifted in the sand, its heart pounding with a near frenzied rhythm. i suddenly realised how close the voodoo priests had been to opening a gateway between worlds.

i reached, with my heart, my soul and my mind entwined as one. i reached with my fingers, my fists and my arms.

i railed at the rock.

i begged it.

i enticed, threatened and abused it.

and still it would not open.

i could almost see the eyes of a dragon staring out at me through the rock. splintered and flashing with a fire stolen from the universe’s very heart. the humour filling its eyes was born of the knowledge that everything we mortals knew of the universe was wrong. it was the humour of an elder gazing at the arrogant certainty of youth – gentle teasing fledged with tolerant understanding.

the dragon in my mind reared against the rock, its talons unsheathed and slicing through the very fabric of the world as they scored the rock’s cold bones.

tell me – do you know the first law of magic?

when you try picking a lock with slender slivers of metal and there’s a sudden click, there’s a brief moment when your heart soars, even if there’s nothing behind the door.

that clicking sound filled my mind as i spoke three words which attacked the world with a rushing noise like a waterfall rushing downward and exploding on a jagged carpet of stone.

“i don’t know.”

and ungulla was pleased.

it split its face into a grin and opened.

i saw the world washed out before me and it was not this world.

it was nibiru.

it beckoned, and i stepped forward.

one foot etched into the sand a print which i knew would remain forever among the bones of dead animals.

a second step and i knew the print would burn forever in the sand, warming the rock’s belly until the world had fallen apart.

a third, and i left no print at all as my foot landed on the smooth skin of nibiru.

the wind was gentle, and cold. the black skin of nibiru was frozen solid and beneath the murky darkness i knew warm water seethed against volcanoes shrugging violently against the core. the ripping of magnetic belts between the two worlds charged the volcanoes deep in the belly of the world and the steam showering out of cracks in the ice bathed the atmosphere as though cleansing it entirely.

i knew if i walked for many days to the north, i would find a hole in the ice, and this hole would lead me to a vast section of tunnels and these tunnels would lead me to a cavern deep in the world. this cavern would be filled with living things, and the glow of plantlife growing on the ceiling of the cavern would reveal a world unique in its beauty.

the people here were studied. they had built gateways to many worlds. they collected a library the likes of which had never been seen. i would browse these works for many years, i knew it.

but, first, i knew there was something more powerful waiting for me.

i stood on the glassy skin of the new world and faced the wind.

i called a name, and the dragon descended from the skies on black wings.

its eyes burned in the echo of the veiling, and the last splinter of light of my old world’s passage was consumed within its pupil. the engine which powered this beast was strong. it would feed on the other worlds it now had the power to reach.

i am young, the dragon said. i have waited so long for this moment – for the two worlds to join. for in their joining i am finally able to leave this world for the first time. the power of the two belts linking surges through me and i am whole.

i reached up and pressed my hands against the dragon’s scales. they were cold, like shards of ice. “you’re very cold,” i said.

the stars will warm me.

i realised then just how cold i was. my skin was turning blue and the breath left my body in mists. “i think i’m dying,” i said. my brain seemed to be turning to fog.

the dragon roared, amused. no, you’re not dying. you are simply changing. this world changes all. fear not the cold, little mage, for the stars will warm you, too.

“mage? i’m not that.”

and i was no dragon until the belts were joined. before that, i was still a child. when you stepped through the gateway and called my name, we set ourselves on a path – a path we must follow.

the ice in my blood made my heart beat slower. i felt like slush lined my veins and i blinked against the sudden flickers of colour which infected my vision.

don’t fight it, said the dragon. let it happen. tell me, little mage – do you know the secret name for the universe?

i thought about it as best as i could as the rushing of ice crystals swirled through my body. my skin was pale, almost too pale. small crystals of ice clung to my fingers. i felt my cheeks cracking and my lips stretched tighter across my face. my teeth chattered.

the universe?

it’s just this place.

a place out on the highway. where the insects zig and zag across the road beneath a lamp post – the only lamp post for hundreds of kilometres. a place where bats swing through the zigs and zags to feast without noise, and the eyes of predators gather to witness the spilling of blood.

it’s not a place of death.

it’s a place of life.

the clay of the earth clings to the lamp post.

it reaches upward and its cracked skin breathes the sun and spits out the rain.

a puddle beckons for attention.

a tongue streaks out and is moistened.

the world is on fire when the sun hits its peak.

an insect gives voice to its desperation.

here, there is desolation.

and only here, in the bones of a dying world, is there humour.

i raised my head and stared into the eyes of the dragon – cold and like a glacier which shatters and sinks into the depthless ocean. “home,” i said, and my teeth stopped chattering as the change was complete. “it is home.”

and alia nodded, softly. she bowed her head and i climbed her back and held on as she threw herself into the air, those tremendous wings beating steadily against the pull of gravitation. the glitter of emerald streaked down her ribcage.

the world flickered before us.

the fluttering of wings – not an angels, not a butterfly’s – and the very fabric of the universe melted away as the engine screamed fire into the sky.

hold on tight, little mage, she said. it is time to go home.

Tags: chaos magic, discordian, dragons