Daddy Dearest...

The thunder rolled forth from the urn, pushing Drake further back from the table. His face was a frozen mask of fear and uncertainty. His hands were down at his sides. The right fist had slipped into a pocket, like he was fumbling for something inside his pants.

Seeing Cerrydwen laying on the ground, her face scrunched up in obvious agony as she clutched her shattered wrist with her good hand, the bear finally saw fit to get up off of my chest and waddle over to her.

Despite the still shuddering earth, I took this opportunity to sit up, but I was more busy going back and forth between watching Drake and glancing at the now glowing urn as a vaporous cloud of dark energy spilled forth from the mouth, slowly growing in a man-shaped form.

Drake had finally found what he had been searching for, pulling out a large silver ring set with a small dark stone. He took one brief moment to look at the ring before returning his attention the growing man-cloud. He clenched the ring in the palm of his now sweaty hand. Beads of sweat were now dripping from his head. His dress shirt was showing several sweat stains as well.

The man-cloud solidified. Two fire-red eyes formed in its head, a mouth appeared. It took a step towards Drake, one translucent arm reaching forward. The mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged, yet. As the creature moved away from the urn, it crashed to the ground, now a hollow bronze shell.

As the creature stepped forward, Drake stepped back, coming closer to where I now sat up. He glanced back to where I was, stammered out a barely heard sentence. “Rusty, this ring, it is absolutely critical that you take it.”

“What are you taking about?”

The man-cloud leaped forward, forming into an arrow that pierced into Drake’s chest. Drake’s back arched in agony as he was blown backwards and spun around, landing face first in the dirt at my outstretched feet. His body began spasming in violent bursts as he flopped about on the ground like a fish gasping for breath. His voice cried out in tortured wails, his eyes had rolled backwards in his head. The hand clenched around the ring remained sealed shut, as if it was the one part of his body he could still control.

The thrashing, wailing and agony continued for several moments, then all went silent and still. The hand holding the ring unclenched and twitched just enough to propel the ring btween my legs. It rolled to a stop and fell onto a side, little bits of smoldered flesh still attached to it. Looking up from it, I could see the palm bearing the scars of the ring, a large black circle evidence of where the ring was.

Unsure of what else to do at the moment, I reached down and grabbed the ring with my left hand and quickly stuck it in my inside jacket pocket. I then got up, looking over to where the naked form of the Frau was fretting over Cerrydwen and her broken arm.

I was just about to head over to see if I could do anything, when Drake’s body stirred again. I stepped back, not sure what was happening.

The body twitched again. A new round of convulsions began, though this time, they started out violent, but calmed quickly as he gathered himself and pushed up into a kneeling position. I got the distinct impression that someone new was trying out the body.

That feeling was confirmed as the former face of my enemy looked up at me with eyes more human than I could ever remember, and he smiled. Not the thin, smirk that I knew so well, but a genuine smile. His voice cracking, the being spoke, haltingly at first, then more sure. “I am Dracaar, is it you I have to thank for my release?”

Shaking my head, I pointed over to Cerrydwen and the Frau. “No, it was those ladies who released you. Thank them for your freedom.”

Dracaar shifted his look to the two ladies and clucked his tongue as he strode over to them. “I see that you have suffered at the hands of my wayward son. Please, let me help you.”

Frau moved enough for the figure of Dracaar to kneel down and touch Cerrydwen’s limp and swollen wrist. A warm yellow energy leaped from his fingers and entered her arm. Cerrydwen yelped in shock, but was soon able to move her fingers and hand without any pain.

Even as I watched this, I could see Drake’s former body continue to shift and fill out. He seemed to be gaining in height, weight and muscle mass, filling out from the rail thin frame that Drake had carried into a fuller, stronger, taller form that resembled more a linebacker than a bureacrat.

When the figure turned back to me, I could hardly recognize the face of my former foe, as his cheeks had filled out, his chin took on a much stronger cast, his eyes had a warm, charismatic feel to them. His voice, when he spoke again had a deep, sonorous quality that was also new, yet quite pleasing to the ear, even if the words themselves gave pause.

“FREE AT LONG LAST!” His arms were outstretched as he called out. He looked around at each of us, dropped his arms and lowered his voice. “I have much to do. I must take my leave now. I will have need of capable servants in the near future, serve me again, and you will be rewarded byond your wildest mortal dreams.”

With that he turned on his heal, strode to the table and grabbed the other urn. Energy gathered about him and the urn, culminating in a bright flash that faded to reveal an empty table and Dracaar missing.

We looked over at each other in awe, and more than a little fear. Frau was the first to speak. “What have we just released?”