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Distant thunder rumbles as I stagger into my dark hotel room. After a long conference here in Caligo City, I’ve had enough of dealing with people. All I can think of is being alone, grabbing a shower, having a midnight snack, and –
What? I stare at my bed, petrified. Two glowing red dots are hovering in the air above it. I switch on the lamp closest to me.
And perched on the edge of my bed is an all-too-familiar mechanical crow.
“Mephisto!” My hand flies over my heart before I let out a massive sigh of relief. “What in the world are you doing here?”
He responds with a grating, sarcastic-sounding caw, as if to say, “Hello to you, too!” Glancing around the room, I see no signs of his master waiting in any of the corners.
“Sylus isn’t here, is he? I thought he was going to be in Tulla Island all month.”
Mephisto’s silence is the only answer. Well, this is the last thing I expected. Worn out and feeling dull, I flop back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m too spaced out to react when he flies over to the nightstand.
Summoning my last dregs of energy, I pull out my phone. No texts or voicemail. “He must be really busy, too.” I toss the phone and let out a long breath. “Did he send you here, Mephie?”
His caw is indignant. “Was it Luke and Kieran, then?” Again, he voices denial. “Well, then, why are you here? Aren’t I the last person you’d rather be with?”
I roll my head to the right so I can get a better look at Mephisto. All he does is stare at me. There’s no trace of his stubborn and proud nature as his head hunches forward. In fact, he seems almost…forlorn?
“You’re not…lonely, are you?”
He turns away at once, ruffling his feathers. As if playing things cool is enough to hide the truth.
“A lonely machine, huh?” I shake my head. “Why would you need to emulate loneliness? Who would even program it in the first place?”
Sudden rain pelts the roof above us, disrupting the calm of night with a deafening roar. Sitting up, I look out the balcony window to watch the lightning flash in the hills beyond. Raindrops slide down the glass in mesmerizing lines. Thunder murmurs through the darkness. With the arrival of the storm, I feel more at ease.
I kick off my shoes and, too tired to change, I slip under the covers.
“You know…if you don’t want to be alone, you could come with me to Laurel Farm tomorrow,” I say. “I used to go there when I was a kid and I thought it’d be nice to see it while I was here. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but…”
Mephisto keeps quiet. Shrugging, I tuck myself in.
“Just saying. The offer is out there.”
The wall is painted gold by the warm light of the lamp. I think about getting up to turn it off. But the more my body relaxes, the harder it is to even think about leaving this bed. My eyelids grow heavier and the light fades. In an instant, I’m fast asleep.
~
The skies are still grey the next morning, but the rain is long gone. Its fresh scent mixes with the amber leaves floating down from the trees. If there’s one thing about the area around Laurel Farm that hasn’t changed, it’s the natural beauty. Long stretches of yellow grass are dotted with random thickets and patches of forest. Perhaps prairie land isn’t always the most striking, but its vastness always makes me feel like an adventure could happen anytime.
Driving down the gravel road into Laurel Farm, I’m happy to see it isn’t too busy. A handful of families are running around the apple orchard not far away. And what appears to be a small field trip crew is disappearing into the cider shop. It’s going to be a great afternoon for a nostalgic walk.
When I step out of my rental car, Mephisto immediately flies out and claims a spot on my shoulder. I wince at the slight pinch of his metal talons.
“Um, you might want to wait here a bit.”
Mephisto loudly refuses.
“Yes, I know – you’re not a real crow. But even still, you’re bound to throw people off. Just hang out somewhere until I–”
His talons dig through the fabric of my hoodie. I bite my lip to keep from shrieking.
“Ow! Okay, fine. We’ll go together. But not a peep out of you until we’re outside. Got it?”
The admissions station and the cider shop are combined, so I end up walking through the shop first. The smells of apple, cinnamon, and caramel hit me with every inhale. I know all around me are the things I remember – kettle corn, candied apples, honey sticks – but I barely look at them. With Mephisto sitting shamelessly on my shoulder, I can only think of who’s watching. So far, it’s just a table of schoolkids sipping cider out of apple-shaped cups.
At the admissions counter stands a middle-aged woman, wearing a red vest and a name tag that reads Paula. She looks up and smiles.
“Welcome to Laurel Farm! Is it just going to be–” Paula sees Mephisto and immediately frowns. “–you today?
“Yep.”
“Sorry, is that a–?”
“Drone! It’s a drone.” Putting on a smile, I hastily add, “It’s supposed to look like a crow.”
“…I see. Uh, if it’s just you, that’ll be twenty dollars.”
I hand Paula my credit card. As she’s running the payment through, I see Mephisto looking directly at the table of schoolkids. They haven’t taken their eyes off him this entire time.
Whatever you’re thinking of, Mephie, please – don’t do it.
Right on cue, he lets out the loudest caw I’ve ever heard. Paula jumps while all the kids fall apart with laughter and cheers of admiration. I keep my fixed smile on as Paula hands me back my card.
“You didn’t say the drone could sound like a crow,” she remarks incredulously.
“Oh, it’s a wildlife photography drone. It’s meant to pass for the real thing so it can blend in. You get better pictures that way.”
Paula nods, somewhat impressed. “Huh. I’ll have to see if my son’s heard of it. He’s really into his technology. Collects anything that flies, you know.” Handing my card back, she takes one last glance at Mephisto before saying to me, “Enjoy your afternoon, miss.”
The cool air outside takes the edge off the self-consciousness burning my face. But before I can chastise Mephisto, he’s grabbed the pull-string of my hoodie. I wrestle it free from his beak.
“You just couldn’t help showing off, could you!” Sighing, I look off into the distance. “Well, at least that’s over with. Come on.”
Turning left, I walk into the orchard. Of all the trees around, they are the few retaining any green leaves. Faded red apples hang from the branches and lie rain-kissed in the grass, releasing a sweet, tangy scent. Breathing it in with the warm notes of autumn, all the tension I had before slips away.
“I used to come here for monthly field trips in elementary school,” I tell Mephisto with a smile. “Caleb and I would run around these trees playing tag with the other kids. When the apples were ripe, we’d all pick some. And we were always given seedlings so we could grow apple trees at home…I don’t think any of the ones Caleb and I got survived, though.”
Finding an unspoiled apple on the ground, I pick it up. Mephisto watches curiously as I buff it on my sleeve until the skin shines. He cranes his neck to get a closer look.
“What d’you think? Would you eat one if you could?”
Deciding I’ll save it for later, I tuck the apple into my hoodie pocket. I look up as I feel Mephisto release me. He’s flying towards the path I was searching for – a boardwalk disappearing into a rust-colored forest. Eager myself, my footsteps pick up until I’m running. I don’t slow down until my shoes hit the weathered, silvery wood.
Catching my breath, I look up into the treetops. The leaves whisper and tremble as a slight breeze sails over me. The further down the boardwalk I go, the thicker the forest gets. It isn’t long before I can’t see the prairieland at all.
Mephisto circles back to me, careful with his landing. He adjusts himself on my shoulder and, seeing the look on my face, emits an inquisitive croak.
“I’m just hoping it’s still here.” He croaks again. “Oh, it’s just this little playground of sorts. I went to it every time I came here…” I breathe in, holding back hope as hard as I can. “Places have a habit of changing when you turn your back on them too long. You never know how different things are after you’ve been away for several years.”
And it’s been more than several years for me. So many things that used to exist when I was younger are either gone or transformed into something different. Every time, it makes me feel like it isn’t just evidence of the past itself disappearing – it’s my past slowly disappearing, too. One of these days, no matter how much I want to deny it, there’ll be nowhere left to hold the old parts of my life anymore.
So far, nothing here looks different. But as I remember running down this boardwalk, laughing myself silly as I chased Caleb and my friends through the forest…the thought that even a little part of this place could change stings. There has to be somewhere left that can guard what I’m afraid of losing. Some place I can turn to when the rest of the world is unrecognizable.
Something cold touches my neck.
Is Mephisto nuzzling me?
“What are you doing?” All he does is come closer until his metal body is pressed against my skin. It’s cute, but a little suspicious. “You’re not being nice to me…are you? It’s just because you don’t want to disappoint Sylus. Since he can see through you and all. Right?”
Mephisto’s indignant response doesn’t assuage me.
“You’re his eyes and ears at all times. How am I supposed to believe anything between you and me is–”
I flinch when he flies off my shoulder. But instead of flying away, he flaps in place before me. Sensing he wants something, I hold out my wrist to him. He lands on it, grips tightly, and stares directly at me. His red eyes beam for a few long seconds until he blinks. Then they’re duller. Blinking again, they grow bright like before.
“Huh?” As he repeats this a few more times, the realization hits me. “You’re saying your eyes are brighter when you’re live or recording something?” He bobs his head. “Mephie, why are you telling me this?”
Whatever answer he has, it’s too complicated for him to vocalize. But the way he tilts his head at me is good-natured. Friendly, even. Is he really being sweet to me? Does this mean he…trusts me? Regardless of the reason, I feel like I’m seeing a different Mephisto altogether.
“Well…thank you. If that is true, then…thanks for letting me know.”
He flutters back to my shoulder and lets out a decisive caw, as if saying, “Let’s go!” I can’t believe this moment is actually happening. But I’m glad he’s with me. It’s much better than walking down this forest path with only my thoughts to keep me company.
A few minutes later, my eyes catch sight of what I was looking for. My heart leaps, but I don’t dare get excited just yet. I pick up my pace until I’m standing before it.
Nestled amongst oak trees and wild sumac is the nature playground.
And it hasn’t changed at all! Three wooden platforms are wedged between some of the older trees. A wooden xylophone lines the railing on the left side. In the center, a box flowing over with brightly colored satin and tulle sashes sits. Nets of thick rope are tied to some of the tree branches for kids to grab onto and swing. And further along the right, a telescope mounted to the rail points towards a pumpkin patch and the grand Leyton Lodge in the distance.
It’s like I’m nine years old again. I go over to the box and take the sashes out one by one, stringing them over the lower-hanging branches. When I’ve arranged them into a canopy of pink, yellow, blue, and red, I sit down on the box. Flickers of childhood stir within my mind.
I grin as Mephisto pushes acorns across the platforms. “You like this place, too, huh? This is where we used to play our game Rescue the Princess.” I can’t help feeling a little silly saying that out loud. “It wasn’t much of a game, really – just a little make-believe. I was the princess and this was the fort of the bad guys who held me captive. Caleb and some of our friends would be the good guys who’d rescue me.”
Reflecting on it, I add, “It kinda got boring after a while. Everyone took forever with their fights and duels. And ‘the bad guys’ argued endlessly with Caleb over who would win – he won all the time, which they didn’t think was fair or fun. While they did that, I’d look through that telescope and pretend I was a spy. Or I’d throw on some of these sashes and twirl around. Or…”
A sudden rush of memories hits me out of nowhere. Memories that haven’t crossed my mind in well over ten years. “Isn’t that strange?”
Mephisto turns back, hopping onto my lap. He caws, seemingly asking, “What is it?”
“I just remembered something. When I wasn’t playing spies or dancing, I’d sit here and pretend a dragon was coming to take me away.” The look Mephisto gives me makes me feel even sillier than before. “I mean, that’s what dragons did in the stories I heard. They were always kidnapping princesses…it happened a lot in my dreams, too.”
I sit back in shock, running my fingers through my hair. “Wow…you’d think Sylus’s book about dragons would have reminded me. How could I forget those dreams for so long?”
As my recollections grow more vivid, Mephisto hops back onto my shoulder. He nestles within my hair like a real bird huddling for warmth.
“I had these recurring nightmares,” I tell him. “There was always this dragon in them…a black and red one. It didn’t matter how the dream began – he always found me and took me to his cave. I’d wake up right at the moment he was going to eat me alive. Of course, I’d scream every time. I remember going to Grandma’s room night after night, begging her to let me sleep in her bed. Which she didn’t.”
The grumble Mephisto makes startles me. “Well, she wanted me to be brave. That was always a sticking point with her. It wasn’t from a place of meanness or anything like that. She was good to me. Really. It’s just…”
The words die on my lips. Frowning, my mind is flooded with troubling sights and sensations.
The near-pitch darkness of the hallway between Grandma’s room and mine. Hot slick tears running down my face as I tap her shoulder. My pulse pounding in my ears. Hair plastered to my forehead with sweat. Shaking uncontrollably. Her half-open eyes giving me that knowing look before she’d say, “It’s only a dream – you’ll be fine. Everything will be better when you’re asleep again.” The rustle of her thin blue blankets when she’d turn away from me. And the panic churning in my stomach as I walked alone through the darkness back to bed. Still gulping down sobs, still warm with the feverish heat of fear.
It’s like a punch in the gut.
Why? I mean, sure, it was rough to keep handling the nightmares on my own. But I did get over them. In the end, Grandma was right – I would be fine. I learned that without her comfort or further reassurances.
So why does it hurt to remember waiting by her bed? Why is the childish hope that she’d embrace me instead of sending me away so vivid, so painful?
Does it really matter now?
I’m pulled out of my thoughts when Mephisto gently tugs at a strand of my hair. I sigh.
“I don’t know. She wanted me to learn early on how to face things – how to rely on myself. That’s just the way it was.” Pushing past the heavy parts of the memory, I continue. “At least Caleb was always there so I wouldn’t feel alone. And I also had my mountain of plushies.” I laugh as I remember the dozens of small, soft animals and dolls gathered around my pillow. “I never felt safe sleeping without them.”
The noise Mephisto makes sounds too much like a dry chuckle.
“I sleep just fine without them now. But what’s wrong with having a few as a grown-up? They’re cute and nice to have around,” I insist. “Don’t judge me for my plushies, Mephie! Anyway…”
After a moment to reorient my thoughts, I say, “Eventually, I got sick of the nightmares. I hated being afraid all the time. More than that, I hated how powerless I felt in them. But I didn’t know what to do at first.”
The more I speak, the more it dawns on me why I’m only remembering all this now. Because this was where I made a change.
“Then…when I was bored during a round of Rescue the Princess, I thought of the dragon. I wondered what would happen if he showed up right then and there. If I’d have any control while I was awake. So I daydreamed. I imagined him taking me away before Caleb got to me first. I played out so many scenarios of what would happen in my head. Sometimes I’d pretend I had superpowers or a different kind of Evol to use. Other times, I’d talk or charm my way around him. I couldn’t always imagine an outcome where I won, but it was better than nothing.”
Mephisto lets out a throaty, questioning coo. Smiling at his adorable response, I say, “It did work. I mean, the dreams were still scary at first, but they didn’t end like they used to. I didn’t have the kind of strength or powers I hoped for. But talking to the dragon made a difference. The longer I could keep him listening, the longer I survived. Over time, I realized he’d lost the desire to eat me. He liked hearing me talk. He was…curious.” Warmth spreads over my heart the more I think of him. “In the end, all he wanted was a friend.
“From then on, my dragon nightmares became happy dreams. I stopped making up scenarios about fighting or escaping him. Instead, I’d imagine what adventures we’d have once I fell asleep. We’d hunt for treasure, attack castles, fly everywhere – we did everything together. And we told each other fairytales, too. I don’t remember any of the ones he told me, though. I don’t even remember if he had a name or if I made one up for him. I just remember that he made me happy.”
The memories of the dreams don’t come back quite as strong as other memories of mine. They’re more like a montage of brief snapshots, changing almost too quickly for me to see. The moments are too faded with time. But as I relive the rush of dragon wings, everything I felt returns to me. The euphoria of soaring through the clouds. Excitement over dazzling gems we’d uncover in the mountains or steal from kings. Intense concentration as we counted gold late into the night. The way my heart stopped any time his bewitching red eyes looked at me. How the darkness lost its terror whenever he told me a new fairytale…if only I could remember even one of them now.
If only I could remember his voice.
I shake my head in disbelief. “How could I have forgotten him when he made me feel so alive?”
Silence stretches out as I’m lost in thought. Mephisto is the first to break it.
“You really want to know how it all ended?” I can’t help raising my brow at him. “You’re unusually patient today. It’s not because you’re recording this for Sylus, is it?”
I can’t get a good look out the corner of my eye to see how bright his eyes are. Then again, if this is being saved, it’s not that big a deal. I probably would have shared all this with Sylus at some point anyway. After a moment, I go on.
“Well…I liked drawing the dragon and me flying over mountains or surrounded by gold and jewels. And when I was done, I liked sticking the drawings on the fridge. But every time I did, they disappeared. Grandma said she didn’t take them down. Caleb said so, too, but…I knew it had to be him.”
Mephisto voices his surprise.
“It wasn’t hard to guess. He didn’t like hearing my dragon daydreams when we played Rescue the Princess. He’d wake me up at night ‘to stop the nightmares from coming’, even though I was sleeping well again.” The grumbled response makes me laugh a little. With a shrug, I explain, “We relied on each other a lot, Mephie. He always wanted to be there for me and maybe he thought I’d need him for everything. But…I think the dragon made him feel like he was being replaced somehow. I didn’t want him to feel bad, so…I let my dragon go.”
If there’s one bit about those dreams that’s coming back with crystal clarity, it’s the sorrow of saying goodbye. Why does the pain of the past linger more than anything else? I close my eyes against the memory.
“I…don’t remember much of that last dream. What I do remember is…crying. Kissing his scales and crying before saying goodbye. I never dreamed of him again.”
With my story at an end, I grow quiet. I open my eyes to the autumn trees, the colorful sash canopy, and the vast gray sky. The bite of the cool breeze grounds me in the present, reminding me of where I am and who I am now. Not a child on a field trip who dreams of dragons – an adult and a hunter on a trip. Accompanied by a mechanical crow.
Speaking of which–
“Seriously, though, have you been recording all this?”
Grabbing Mephisto, I hold him out in front of me and look into his eyes. Bright, bright red.
“I knew it!” I click my tongue at him in half-real, half-mocking disapproval. “We’re going to need to set some boundaries before I pour my heart out to you again. Got it?” He grudgingly croaks his agreement. “Just consider yourself lucky this time. Because I do want Sylus to hear this. All of it. And I have something else I’d like you to save for him.”
I stare into his glowing gaze, imagining Sylus looking back at me. Thinking of all that I’ve said, I can’t help feeling vulnerable and a little shy, knowing he’ll have those parts of my past now. But my voice is steady when I speak.
“If you’ve ever wondered where my persistence and my love of plushies comes from…now you know. Maybe it’s a childish origin, but you don’t know what those dreams used to be like. Or how scared I used to get as a kid.”
It takes a bit for me to think of what to say next. But Mephisto’s presence keeps me calm the whole time. “Like so many other parts of my past, I forgot those dreams. But I didn’t forget what I learned from them. Taming that dragon taught me perseverance. No matter how outmatched or afraid I was, I always had to try.”
Then I flash a daring grin. “Look how that turned out. The girl who once tamed a dragon became the hunter who tamed the leader of Onychinus! If he denies it, he’ll have to prove his spirit is still wild. And if it is wild…well, he’ll have to contend with his tamer.”
I let a second fly by before I drop my bravado. “Okay, Mephie. That’s all I wanted to add.”
Setting Mephisto down on my lap, I can’t help laughing like a schoolkid pulling a prank.
“That last bit will rile him up for sure!” I wave off Mephisto’s warning. “It’s fine! He likes it when I tease him. And I don’t mind the consequences.”
“Ha!” It isn’t simply a caw. This is Mephisto laughing at me like he knows exactly what I’m talking about. He probably does, doesn’t he? Heat blooms across my face.
“That’s just rude! I thought we were friends.” He loudly declares otherwise. “Alright, we’re allies. How does that sound?” Stubborn, he neither accepts it nor refutes it. “Well, we have plenty of time to build a true friendship. One of these days, you’ll admit that you care.”
With a sigh, I stand up. “Anyway…we should probably head back. It’ll be late soon.”
Before we leave, I walk over to the small telescope pointed towards the pumpkin patch. I peer into the lens, training my sights on the Leyton Lodge. The large, elegant building has long windows through which I can see the glow of antler chandeliers. A lot of my school friends’ families would go there for winter vacations or weekend getaways. I always envied them for that.
Mephisto sounds inquisitive as he looks at the Lodge as well.
“I’d pretend that was one of the castles I’d raid with the dragon,” I say, smiling. “Sometimes, I’d imagine that it became our home. Unless, of course, I was playing spies – then it was the enemy base. I’ve never been in it, though.”
Putting the playground behind us, we continue down the boardwalk until the forest opens back up to the orchard. Slivers of late afternoon sunlight pierce through the clouds. Parents are rounding up their kids, baskets of apples hanging from their arms. Looking at the kids, I can perfectly imagine the heavy tiredness they’ll feel once they’re riding home. The way their vision will grow dull and hazy as they fight sleep by watching the world rush outside.
It’s such an old feeling that I can’t remember the last time I felt that way. But unlike a lot of other things, I haven’t forgotten it.
Glancing at Mephisto out the corner of my eye, I begin to wonder about his life. How it started, what things were like before I came around. What made Sylus think of creating him…and why…
Mephisto caws at me when I stop in my tracks.
“I’m just wondering…about you, actually. I wasn’t wrong when I told that receptionist you were a drone. You kind of are. And sure, being a crow helps you go unnoticed. But…Sylus doesn’t make random choices. There’s a reason you’re a crow and not something else. A reason why you sound and act like one, even if you’re not following orders. Why you’re perfectly birdlike when underneath it all, you’re just a machine.”
Not a sound out of Mephisto. He’s been so vocal about nearly everything else this whole trip. Why would he be quiet about himself?
“I remember how well he took care of the dove I found ages ago. He takes good care of just about any animal. Did he take in a crow at some point? If so, maybe he grew fond of it.” I wait for an answer, receiving none. “It would explain the way he looks at you sometimes.”
Finally, Mephisto speaks up. Confusion colors his raspy reply.
“I know he says you’re no pet. But don’t think I haven’t noticed anything. There’s a look he gives you now and then – as though you’re fragile and precious. Like you’re more than a machine. And no matter what he says, it’s clear he cherishes you.”
To that, there’s no response. I can’t help frowning, wondering what his silence is all about.
“Why were you designed this way, Mephie? What’s your story?”
He sounds indifferent when he croaks at me, as if saying, “Why do you care?”
“It’s just…I’m thinking I should have been more curious about you from the start. There has to be more to you than meets the eye. You have secrets of your own, don’t you?” Quietly, I ask, “Would you ever trust me enough to share them with me?”
For a second, he appears to be thinking things over. Maybe there’s something he’s willing to tell me, after all.
Just as I’m getting my hopes up, he takes off for the skies.
“I’m guessing that’s a no for now.”
He’s heading in the direction of the Leyton Lodge. He doesn’t go very far before circling back towards me. Flying back and forth like this, he caws at me over and over.
“What? You want to visit the Lodge?” This bird won’t stop being confusing today. “Why?”
When I stay where I am, Mephisto flies back and lands on my wrist, exasperated. Then he opens his beak and, in a gravelly voice, says, “Castle.”
My eyes are wide open. I’ve never heard him speak a clear word before. “Mephie, you can…talk? Did Sylus upgrade you with speech or something?”
Instead of answering my question, he opens his beak again and croaks out, “Castle. Dragon. Castle.” Looking over at the Leyton Lodge, I realize what he’s trying to tell me:
I listened. I see what matters to you.
Raising my brow, I say, “It’s a finer establishment than the cider shop. You’re bound to draw lots of attention. Are you sure you can withstand everyone’s wary eyes?”
His retort is haughty, like he’s saying, “So what?”
“Alright then. You’re no dragon, but you’ll do.” I grin. “Race you to the castle?”
With a joyous cry, Mephisto takes off and so do I. Higher up, he gets the advantage of the wind to push him further along. But that doesn’t stop me from charging through the yellow grass. Giddy laughter bursts out of me as though I’ve gone back in time – as though I’m nine years old and chasing my friends, pretending I can fly with the wings of a dragon.