A Royal Visit

Gentle sound of water falling, soft rustle of leaves in evening breeze, muffled conversation as chairs are arranged and their occupants settle.


[Gideon] “Good evening, and welcome to all our Earthbound listeners, as well as those who may be joining us from afar. We’ve been away for a while, off on a rather long summer hiatus, but I’m pleased to say we’re starting our new season with an especially—ah, here she comes! As I was saying, we’re honored to have Princess Shaila with us today, all the way from the Kingdom of Ambistron in the Land of Isoladia. Welcome, your Highness, to my humble home. The Princess has lately been on a quest to---Alwynn’s Fire, your Highness! What happened to you?”

Squishy footsteps end in a damp plop into chair and heartfelt sigh.

[Shaila] “I’m so sorry for my appearance, Sir Gideon. These clothes were clean and presentable when I started, but I didn’t anticipate ending up in Galvistor’s gullet.”

[Gideon] “Galvistor did this?”

[Shaila] “Well, he—oh, scales!” More squishy sounds as Shaila shifts in her chair, then a splat as she shakes digestive goop off her hand. “Do you have a towel I could—?”

[Gideon] “Of course. My assistant will get one from the cabana.”

Squeak of chair followed by padding footsteps retreating across the patio.

[Gideon] “That dragon needs to exercise self-control around his food. Thank Alwynn he didn’t digest you.”

[Shaila] “Goodness, no! He wasn’t trying to eat me, but he had to swallow me. We had to set down so I could—well, I needed to answer a call of nature, and when I was—”

[Gideon] “Or maybe he needs some kind of intervention. Is there a Cesar Millan for very large reptiles? Some kind of Dragon Whisperer?”

Footsteps return.

[Shaila] “For Gansur’s sake, Sir Gideon! If you’ll allow me a few words I’ll explain. Oh—a towel. Thank you so much, Mistress-?”

[Gideon] “This is my assistant – you may have heard Galvistor refer to her as the Wikipedia Addict. Thank you, sweetheart. Why don’t you have a seat and start your notes?” Chair squeaks again, click of laptop keys. “It’s not Sir Gideon, .your Highness. Just call me Gideon. I’m sorry I interrupted you. Did I understand correctly? You wanted Galvistor to swallow you?”

[Shaila] “Gansur, I’m going to have to wash my hair again…” Sound of fingers squeaking over gooey hair, and another splat as more slime is pulled off and flung away. “It’s been so long since he’s carried me that way, I had almost managed to forget how disgusting the consequences can be.”

[Gideon] Quick intake of breath as several more glutinous plops ensue. Twin chair scrapes as both alien and typist inch chairs further away. “You’ll get no argument from me.”

[Shaila] “That’s a lovely pond. Would it be all right if I took a quick wash to clean this off?”

[Gideon] “It’s a swimming pool. I don’t think it would survi—er, be suitable for such an honored guest. Would you like to use the shower in the cabana instead?”

[Shaila] “Shower?”

[Gideon] “Of course, it’s…ah. I see. No showers in Isoladia. Well, think of it as kind of controlled waterfall. Hot with plenty of soap if you want to—”

[Shaila] “Soap? That would be perfect! A hot waterfall? Where is it?”

[Gideon] To Wikipedia addict. “Why don’t you show the Princess how to manage things in the cabana? Then ask the housekeeper to put her clothes in the washer and bring her something to wear until her own are clean.”

[Shaila] “That’s so kind of you. It will be much easier to talk when I’m less gooey.” Chairs scrape back as the two women rise.

[Gideon] “I meant to ask -- where is the Dragon?”

[Shaila] “He said something about having a craving for shellfish and took off right after gagging me up. It was a long flight and he has quite an appetite.”

[Gideon] Laughs. “So I’ve noticed. Please, don’t let me keep you.”

Sound of footfalls retreating, one set squishy.

[Shaila] Voice fading as they walk away. “Did I hear your master correctly? Put my clothes in the washer? Does she swallow them…?”

A half hour later…

[Gideon] “Welcome back, Princess. Please sit – I had the chairs wiped down while you were gone. You look much more comfortable. I take it you had no problems with the facilities?”

[Shaila] “It was marvelous! So much nicer than pouring water over yourself in the bath. Breedyn—my husband—must build something like that for our chamber. And the clothes—I love these pants. I used to fight with my father, King Harrimore, about wearing pants in order to ride Galvistor. It’s not something easily done in a flouncy dress.”

[Gideon] “I can only imagine. And the jeans are very attractive on you, as well as the T-shirt. But the towel…” Squeak of chair as he turns toward Wikipedia Addict. “Didn’t you show her how the hair dryer works?”

[Wikipedia Addict] “Yes, sir. But she didn’t like the noise.”

[Gideon] “Ah.” Clink of glassware. “Princess, I thought you might like something to drink. Would you care for iced tea?”

[Shaila] “Ice! You must have an excellent basement to keep ice in the heat.” Sips. “Very good. Thank you. I hope whichever servant’s ‘jeans’ and shirt I’m wearing won’t mind my use of them.”

[Gideon] “Oh, no, those don’t belong to my employees. The shirt is Hannah’s. She’s…well, let’s just say it’s a relationship in transition.”

[Shaila] “Her people must be very brave to wear their heraldic motto so boldly in your presence.”

[Wikipedia Addict] Snickers. “She’s wearing the shirt that says ‘Aliens Don’t Scare Me, I’m a Texan’ on the back.”

[Gideon] Dryly. “Hanna has a unique sense of humor. But enough of my world. You never did tell me why Galvistor took it on himself to swallow you.”

[Shaila] “That’s right. You thought he was trying to eat me. First of all, you should know it is a Dragon Law, a primary law at that, which dictates they do not digest a species of equitable intellect.”

[Gideon] “Yes, I remember something about that.” Pause. “Although I think he had some questions at the time as to what constituted ‘equitable’.”

[Shaila] “The mere thought of eating a person would gag Galvistor! I offered myself to such a scheme once, and he was appalled.”

[Gideon] “You must have been very upset to consider such a thing.”

[Shaila] “I was, and I was very young and self-centered. I wanted my way and would have it, and knew Galvistor would only take me seriously if I tried to force him to swallow me. Not just swallow me, you understand, but eat me. Digest me. Of course, he wouldn’t and in the end I got my way. But…that was a while back. As I was trying to say earlier about my current condition, we stopped so I could take care of personal business and before I could remount Galvistor, a Gryphon came out of nowhere. There was no time for niceties and Galvistor had to swallow me so he could handle the situation. He couldn’t flame, of course, not with me inside, so he had to out-fly the beast. We were already late for this meeting, so he simply brought me via his gullet.”

[Gideon] “I’ll concede it was an emergency. But whatever the reason, you must admit it is a bizarre method of travel.”

[Shaila] “Bizarre? I’ve never thought about it. Messy, yes. And dangerous if one is inside too long—not enough air, you see—but it’s something Dragons can do. And it’s proven quite effective when necessary. I’m surprised, considering you aren’t human, that you would find any form of travel bizarre.”

[Gideon] “You have a point. Is ‘gullet travel’ common in Isoladia?

[Shaila] “I guess just the Royals use the method, now that I think on it. Dragons don’t interact with commoners all that much, other than the ones who are part of the various courts. Dragons are very long-lived, you see, and before the Veil faded, when Isoladia was still cut off from the rest of the world, they produced very few young. A natural balance, Galvistor says.”

[Gideon] “Perfectly understandable. My own species has evolved with similar limitations.”

[Shaila] “His exact words, if I recall, were that Dragons reacted to prevent their territorial natures from overlapping in a finite space. That one took me a while to understand. He always uses large words, I’m afraid. Anyway, now, with the Veil gone, they are able to expand outward. I’m told there are more eggs being laid because the former boundaries have been removed. A wonderful circumstance, I think. Dragons are marvelous creatures. There should be more of them.”

[Gideon] “Not in Houston, I hope. We already have enough traffic.” Silence. “A joke, Princess. The nearest human city to us is rather crowded, and I’ve noticed a Dragon takes up a great deal of space. Galveston seemed to have difficulty controlling his bulk, not to mention his tail.”

[Shaila] “True enough. Except for one small area, my father has banned any of them from landing in our garden. Galvistor has cropped more bushes and trees than I can remember. He can be quite intimidating even when he doesn’t mean to be.”

[Gideon] “So I’ve experienced. That small hedge behind you used to be a great deal taller.”

[Shaila] “I’m curious. Since you don’t have Dragons and I’ve seen no evidence of a stable or horses, how do you travel about? Galvistor said your, uh, body, is only temporary. He said you are really just a very bright light, although he has been known to exaggerate. Do you just, well, float from place to place?”

[Gideon] “When I’m in my energy form, yes. But I most often stay in my human form. Much less disconcerting to the neighbors. The people of Earth have a number of machines to provide transportation by air, water, or land. Forgive me, but from your limited experience with plumbing, would I be correct in assuming technology is not a focus of the Isoladian people?”

[Shaila] “I don’t understand either word, sir. Plumbing? Tech—tech—?”

[Gideon] “Technology. Plumbing refers to the piping involved in channeling water from place to place, as required for the shower and toi—never mind. I think you just answered the question regarding technology. Your world is obviously at a less advanced stage.”

[Shaila] “Why, we are quite advanced! Breedyn, himself, helped redesign our castle to a more battle-worthy condition. Our weaponry is as good as that in any other Kingdom!”

[Gideon] “Fascinating. Then yours is more a medieval society.”

[Shaila] “Medieval? That sounds somewhat…mid-something. Are you insulting me, sir?”

[Gideon] “Absolutely no insult meant, Princess. It’s merely a reference to a society without advanced, well, technology. That is, equipment. Machinery. Expertise in—well, let’s move beyond that. I hope you don’t mind if I turn our conversation specifically to your own life. Much of our audience is fascinated with royalty, and I know they’d like to hear a bit about what it's like to be the Princess. For instance, during one of our recent visits with Galvistor, he mentioned the events leading up to your marriage.”

[Shaila] Pause. “Did he? Exactly what did he mention?”

[Gideon] “Something about a certain amount of drinking, followed by a song-fest?”

Typing stops abruptly as Wikipedia Addict dissolves in a fit of coughing.

[Shaila] “I see. Actually, I know little of the circumstances. That was between him and Breedyn. They were—well, they were enjoying a bit of my father’s Zacra, a potent brew that I don’t indulge in. It goes to the head very fast, and Galvistor does like to drink and sing. But Breedyn isn’t- wasn’t used to the Zacra, so naturally I went to see what they were up to…Galvistor didn’t discuss my part in the situation, did he?”

[Gideon] “Well…he might have mentioned something about your future husband falling on your—”

Very loud coughing by Wikipedia Addict.

[Gideon] “—but I probably misunderstood. He was inebriated when he spoke of it.”

[Shaila] Disapproving. “A condition he suffers all too often.” Clears her throat. “Whatever Galvistor told you was, I am sure, an exaggeration. There was drinking and singing, and Breedyn did fall on me. By accident. But there was nothing extraordinary about it. We did marry shortly after, but I assure you there was no- no impropriety. None whatsoever.”

[Gideon] “Naturally. One would never imply a princ—”

[Shaila] “Just because my father had some plan laid out for our nuptials doesn’t mean that I was involved.”

[Gideon] “I’m certain you weren't.”

[Shaila] Agitated. “Although it was important that we find a man who could handle the changes coming once our separate worlds came in contact, it’s not as if I needed to trap a man.” Chair squeaks as she rises. “Very well, Breedyn did once accuse me of—”

[Wikipedia Addict] “Uh, sir, perhaps we should take a break. Maybe have some refreshments? Why don’t I run into the kitchen and see if your chef has, um, chips and dip, or something. Or maybe some fruit?”

[Gideon] “Excellent idea, sweetheart. Ah, Princess—”

[Shaila] Pacing. “I have to have a talk with that Dragon about his loose tongue and—”

[Gideon] “Let's get something to distr—that is, something to nibble on while we talk. You must be hungry after that flight.”

[Shaila] Stops abruptly. “Did you say 'chips and dip'? Do you mean wood chips? Cow chips? Do you eat such things?”

[Gideon] “Trust me, these come from potatoes or corn. And fruit is—well, I suppose you do have fruit where you come from. Afterwards, you can tell me more about your world."

[Wikipedia Addict] Clears throat. "Maybe she might like to hear about your people, sir?”

[Shaila] “Fruit would be nice…and yes, I would like to hear more about you and your people, Sir Gideon. My life, after all, is rather ordinary. The Veil is gone, and for better or worse, Breedyn’s world and mine have blended. The Dragons are a bit more aggressive than they used to be, but still basically civilized. They help us contend with the monsters that seemed to have awakened after the Veil faded—oh, it’s all quite ordinary. Really. And besides, the details are in the book, should one choose to learn more about me and mine.”

[Gideon] “Which would be The Dragon's Veil of course, soon to be followed by The Dragon's Vision. Shall we adjourn to the house, then? I’d be more than happy to show you my own little corner of Earth. It belonged to my mentor before I was born, which was about a hundred and fifty years ago, when…”

Voices fade out along with two sets of footsteps. Laptop keys continue to click.

[Wikipedia Addict] Typing. "Note to the audience," Muttering. "Darn it, I probably should have mentioned it to my boss before she got here." Louder. "Well, if you want interesting details on 'gullet travel', Galvistor wrote about it in one of his earlier blogs. Look it up at http://www.thewritingdragon.blogspot.com in the archives."

Laptop clicks shut, footsteps scurry to catch up.

Dragons, Aliens and Females - At The Beach Part Two

Sound of fire crackling, hiss as logs are adjusted, wood added. Soft footfalls as alien returns to his seat in the sand.

[Gideon] “There, I think that should do it. Enough heat for you, sweetheart? I hadn’t expected to be out here until the wee hours of the morning.”

[Wikipedia Addict] “It took a while for the clams to--” Hiccup, muffled giggle. “S’cuse me. For clams to, uh…do clam stuff.”

[Gideon] “I assume you meant the baking. Considering we just ate something which had been entangled in bushels of ocean bottom plant life and subsequently buried, it wasn’t bad, was it? But perhaps you’d better slow down on the ale. It’s a little strong for humans.”

[Galvistor] “Yes, a fine brew, dark stout.” Sound of a long, loud slurp from keg. “A keen spirit--” Hiccup followed by resounding belch. “Beg pardon. Ambrosia—although I do not equate it to the favorite brew of my land, Zacra. The gods know no more delectable, pala—palatable, mouth-watering a flavor than Zacra.”

[Wikipedia Addict] “Za…Zappa? Like in Frank?”

[Galvistor] “Zacra, my dear human. It’s a very ancient recipe, modus operan—operan—uh— formula. Worth my weight in gold.”

[Gideon] “A pricey beverage indeed.”

[Galvistor] “Alcohol in its purest, clearest, most virtuuuuuous form.” The swoosh of a clawed foot being used as emphasis. Squeak of overturning beach chair, thump of chair and occupant hitting sand, human squeal. “Sorry again. Help her up there, Gideon, that’s a good alien. Ah, Zacra. Why, s’been known to lay even a Dragon low. Bring’im belly down.” Hiccup.

[Gideon] “That would explain much about your current position.”

[Galvistor] “A Dragon, not this Dragon.” Pause. “Oh, all right. There was one incident. Episode. Occasion, if you will, when I will admit to inebriation. Intoxi—toxi—I had a snoot full.” Deep chortle. “S’what led to Captain Sol becoming Prince Sol, don’t you know. Led’im straight to the--” Hic “-altar.”

[Gideon] “I guess getting him drunk must be more humane than driving him there at gunpoint.”

[Galvistor] Grumble. “I resent the--” Hic. “implica—suggestion. I wash never a part of the scheme, design, plan that resulted in the Captain and Princess Shaila’s taking vows! Least not that part of it.” Sound of another long guzzle. “That was good King Harrimore’s doing.”

[Gideon] “Are arranged marriages common in – whatever that place is called where you come from? I can’t imagine my…well, I don’t know many women who would put up with it.”

[Galvistor] “S’called the Kingdom of Abi—Ambistron, in the land of…what land is it?” Hic. “Ah—Isoh—Isoladia. Had to happen, you know. The Prinsh—Princess had no choice. Because once the Veil faded, fled, dissipa—dishipa—the darn thing went away!—all that outside violent filtered in. Everyshing—thing—went chaotic. Dishordered. Topsy-" Hic "turvey. Calm became aggression. Fisticuf—fisti—fights broke out. The King needed someone in charge who knew how to handle-" Hic. "the new shituation. Captain Sol suited. Most appropriate male around. A warrior, after all. He fit the bill. Sho to speak.”

[Gideon] “So did you or did you not get this poor soldier…plastered, I think is the word?”

[Galvistor] “Why, I whas innocently enscon—en—laying around the Zacra storage cave when the Captain came to me. I did not force Zacra down his narrow human throat. Of course, once he fell, plunged, went face first into an open keg, that was all she wrote.”

[Gideon] “He tried to drown himself?”

[Galvistor] “Course not! Sol ish not the shui—suicide type. The keg was open. He wash trying to get a drink. Not to say he wasn’t depressed. He wash. I was desh—depressed. Sho we joined forces. And drank. And drank a bit more.” Scuffling sound of dragon stretching out neck toward alien. “If I’m not mishtaken, you are deshpressed tonight, too.”

[Gideon] Long pause. “I’m…it’s a long story. What made you so sad?”

[Galvistor] “Females, of course. What elsh could lead a keen-minded Dragon to imbibe? Shwallow brew. Drink.” Hic. “My Riastor was castigat—casti—mean to me. Seemed to think I was shirking m’duty in naming our young. The Captain—he was confused. Wanted to return to his own land, don’t you know? But—there was the Princess. He’d not admit it, but the Captain was attracted. Drawn. In lusht—uh—lust. You’d know all about that, at leasht part of the time.”

[Gideon] Half moan, half laugh. “Trust me, those feelings follow me right into my Olam form. So you drowned your Captain’s sorrows, then. How did that lead to a marriage?”

[Galvistor] “He was tittering. Tottering. Shwaying most dangeroushly. The King had sent his daughter to the cellar to--” Hiccup and belch, flaming exhale quickly stifled. “Oops! Shorry, little Wi-uh-Wikeda Addit. Woke you right up, didn’t I? Never know what’s going to ignite the old inshendi—incendiary innards.”

[Gideon] “I imagine it was the four kegs of alcohol. You were saying?”

[Galvistor] “Ah, yesh. Yes. The Princess arrived to interrupt our gaiety, and the Captain—poor drunken soul—fell on her! Mosht indecorous! Indecent. Inappro—appropriate. Landed right between her legs. I’m most certain that, had he not been indish—indisposed, t’would have resulted in a premature mating! Ash it was, King Harrimore arrived, took one look, and was mosht upset. Well, perhapsh not really upset. Took care of the problem of making the Captain a Prince to inherit the Kingdom, did it not? A quick rite, marriage, shtand before the altar was required.” Another long swig. Lips smacking. Sound of keg being tossed, splintering wood. “Have you ever had shuch—such an interesting circumstance, old man? That ish, old alien? Old bright light?” Scuffling sound of dragon stretching out neck again, toppling sound of lost balance, human squeal. “Oopsh. Didn’t shee you there. I wash just about to ask your alien if he wash upshet because he hadn’t landed lately between his female’s le--”

[Gideon] Laughing. “Galvistor!”

[Galvistor] Hiccup. “You’re right. Correct. Mosht accurate.” Whispers loud enough to be heard halfway up the beach. “We need to do thish without the presence of a female. She ish already the color of King Harrimore’s bright red tights.”

[Gideon] “Sweetheart, you were dozing off, anyway. Why don’t you go curl up in my car? No, leave the chair and the rest of your things. We’ll carry them back as soon as the fire goes out. We won’t be too much longer. It’s that way, sweetheart. There you go. Keep the ocean on your left.”

Acquiescing murmur, sound of trudging footsteps fading off into the distance.

[Galvistor] “Ah. Alone at lasht! Two males engaged in male-only collush—collusion. Feel free, old light, to share all. Shpill the beans, lentils, seedpods—whatever your preference.”

[Gideon] “It’s nothing, really. It’s just that…” Long pause. “Alwynn’s Fire, why do women have to be so damn stubborn?”

[Galvistor] “Females are the bane of male existence. Whatever the sphec-uh-species. Wholly unreasonable. Unlike we males.”

[Gideon] Rises, irrated footfalls as begins to pace. “I chose Hannah because I thought she was sensible. Galvistor, I’ve had—well, there’s no need to go into numbers. Let’s just say I’ve sampled more than my share of Earth females. Long-legged, full breasted, lips that make a man want to--” Pause and sigh. “But I didn’t want a gorgeous woman. I wanted Hannah. You would think she would be grateful, wouldn’t you?”

[Galvistor] “Ummm. Perhapsh therein lays your difficulty. I’ve yet to encounter, meet, come across a female who enjoys admiration for their common shense. Sense. Females are too cogni—cog—aware of their own attributes. Shelf-centered, as it were. Unlike we males, who are ever about doing onto othersh.”

[Gideon] “Aware of her attributes?" Pacing resumes. "Well, you wouldn’t know that from looking at her. She dresses like she picks clothes at random. And you should see what she drives. For our first meeting, I precisely calculated what it would take to roll an ordinary vehicle to a gentle stop, right where I wanted it. Instead, her wreck of a van nearly caused a major highway accident. But is Hannah grateful I want to take care of her? No!”

[Galvistor] “Females like to think they can take care of themshelves. Ergo, they’ve no appreciation of things, actions, meashures done for their own good.” Sigh. “One moment, if I may?” Sound of another keg being broken open. A slurp, loud and long. “Princessh Shaila, in particular, will do things her own way. Your female shounds much the same. Unappreciative. Shtubborn!”

[Gideon] “You’re absolutely right. And not only was I doing it for her own good, I was trying to save her whole planet. And is she content? Of course not. She wants more.”

[Galvistor] “My profoundest shympathies. Uh, exactly what does your Hannah want? Need? Desire?”

[Gideon] “To have half the say in everything I do. Can you believe it? I’m an Olam, for Alwynn’s sake. Of course I’m more capable of dealing with the alien threat to Earth’s future than a human. My plan required someone like Hannah just to get it going, not to carry it out.”

[Galvistor] “S’no wonder you’re done with her! Good riddance. Fare-thee-well. A suitable dismishsal. Have s’more from this fresh keg.”

[Gideon] Thud as alien ignores the offer and sits. “Ordinarily I’d agree with you.” Long pause. “But now it’s become …complicated. Galvistor, now I need her.”

[Galvistor] “Need? As in want? Require? Have a compulsion for? Ummmm, indeed, that ish a preserved vegetable! Uh…marinated cucumber? No—I believe in your vernacular it is referred to as a pickle. Being in a pickle? Whatever. Perhapsh if you logically explain the inconvenience of her attitude she will seek to alter it?”

[Gideon] "Explain the inconvenience of her attitude? Oh I can just hear her response to that." Muffled snort. “I'd be treated to just how inconvenient I am. I know you mean well, Galvistor, but that wouldn't work on Hannah.”

[Galvistor] “Ah, well, been there, done that. When faced with an immovable object, obstinate entity, obdurate female, s’nothing left for a male to do but to engage in alcoholic conshumption. Wallow, as it were, in drunken companionship. Forget females for a time and indulge our robust male/manly/Dragon thirst!" Pause. "However, I mush note—you appear remarkably-" Hic "shober—uh, sober, non-intoxicated, straight brained, old light.”

[Gideon] “My human form can’t get drunk any more than it can catch a cold. My body just absorbs whatever nourishment it needs for maintenance.” Wistful pause. “Hannah once said I was doomed to be the eternal designated driver. She has a way of looking at things…” Trails off, deep sigh.

[Galvistor] “Then I shall cheer you up another way. Did I mention I shing—sing? Quite well, if I shay so, myself. Would you care to hear the shong I taught the good Captain?”

Clearing of a long throat.

“Ohhhhhh—ahem—” Cough. Another throat clearing.
“...Females, they are turbulent,
with tongues mosh often virulent,
Fractious, shurly, and defiant.
Aggressive, sullen, incompliant.
They attract ush like a flower—
a hungry fly-trap, sharp and dour!
They draw us in and then devour!
Oh, woe the male who can’t eshcape
that rounded breast, that scented nape.
That throbbing heart, so hot and callus,
they’ve got us by our dangling phall—”

[Gideon] “Galvistor!” Clap of hands over ears to block booming voice, choking laugh. “I don’t think we want to attract the attention of anyone else who might be out tonight.”

[Galvistor] “Oh…perhapsh it is a tad risqué for these environs. Interesting, though. If I recall, that’s exactly the point at which the Princess halted our revelry, too. Oh, well.”

[Gideon] “Why don’t we call it a night? Come help me kick sand over this fire.”

[Galvistor] “Quite right, you are. Dawn mush be shoon to break. However, let ush enjoy--” Hic “--a few more minutes of the shurf breaking. The cool breeze. The fire dying…I am quite comfort—comfo—” Snore.

[Gideon] “Galvistor? Galvistor??” Muttering in non-Earth language, stomping around, grunting shove at huge, inert body. Huge sigh. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea…”

Gideon Interviews Galvistor

[Gideon] “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for joining us for our first formal interview. We hope to have many more as we introduce you to the inhabitants of our diverse worlds.

“Tonight I’ve moved from where I usually dictate my half of this blog, my own very comfortable study, in order to accommodate our first interviewee, my fellow blogger, Galvistor.

“We are in…well, there’s no polite way to put this. I’m perched on a rock in a cave. A very hard rock in a very damp, dark, and cramped cave. I’m sure your imagination can fill in the details of darkness and dampness, but believe me, I am going to need to tell you why this cave is cr--”

Muffled curse, scuffling and several odd thumps…

“Sorry about that. We’re having to make a few adjustments, because as I was about to describe, tonight’s guest is a bit large and I was sitting in the wrong spot. Had to duck a tail. Um, the tail of our guest, not someone who’s following us. Although I imagine any number of people might follow us, if they saw what I’m seeing now. Galvistor, you are…there’s not another word to describe it except magnificent.” …coughes… “Shiny black scales, great gleaming claws…very nice, uh, jaw tendrils. I wonder, however, about that trickle of green-tinted smoke snaking from your nostrils…” more coughing… “Could you do that a bit less, just for a while? This body’s only human.”

[Galvistor] “Apologies. Just a little internal combustion, heat, temperature regulation, if you will, to warm my gullets. The last time I visited this cave it was drier. Next time I shall assess the situation prior to suggesting a location for our meeting. There you are, the smoke is suppressed, contained, restrained to a more environmentally friendly level.”

[Gideon] “Thank you. And thank you for pausing in what I’m sure is a busy schedule for this interview.”

[Galvistor] “Yes, yes, and thank you for accommodating my requirements, needs, requests.” Muffled exclamation from interviewer as huge claw whooshes through air to tap against scales… “You can see why I find human habitats a tad restrictive. Restraining. Limiting. I don’t recall this cave being quite so tight. But then, my mass has increased since then.” Sound of wing scraping against ceiling… “S’not as if one can consciously oppress their body parts.”

[Gideon] “Actually…but we’re discussing you. Would it be correct for me to assume, from your appearance, that you are a type of reptile?”

[Galvistor] “Am I a reptile? Well, yes…and no. Rather, I am at the higher end of the evolutionary scale of that particular Class of Creature. You know, of course, the Classifications, having studied human-kind as you have?”

[Gideon] “I’ve never spent much time stu--”

[Galvistor] “Animalia, Chordata, down to the Class of Reptilia…the Order however, that is where we Dragons made our bold move toward being beasts of uncommonality.”

[Gideon] “Uncommonality? ”

[Galvistor] “Isn’t that a word? Of course it is! I said it, didn’t I?”

Sound of tapping on a keyboard.

[Gideon] “My assistant has Wikipedia up and she can’t seem to--”

[Galvistor] “How rude! Well, if it’s not in the dictionary, it ought to be! In any case, we are the Order Dragonis…”

More keyboard tapping.

[Gideon] “Ah, shouldn’t that be Order Dragonia?”

[Galvistor] “Yes, yes, I know most Order groups end in an “a”, but did I not say we strive for uncommonality? Difference? The unusual? What other beast can you speak of, expound on, discourse about that has wings and tail and claws and a superior verbal capability all rolled into one?”

[Gideon] “Have you ever met an Xatrobrian? Although I’m not sure if they have wings under their armor. For that matter, I guess no one would consider them verbally skilled. Or even verbal.”

[Galvistor] “A what? Never heard of it. Where does this creature reside, live, linger in residence?”

[Gideon] “On a very hot and swampy planet. I narrowly missed being sent there once.”

[Galvistor] “Well, should I ever endeavor to reach such a rather severe sounding habitat, locale, place I’ll look the beast up. Although I am disinclined to visit swamps. Nasty places, bad smelling. And with my superior olfactory system, I know bad smells when I encounter them.”

[Gideon] “You have impressive nostrils, I must admit. I’ve never seen any quite like them.”

[Galvistor] “Indeed? Don’t get out much, do you? Meanwhile, I digress. My fellow Dragons and I are of the Order Dragonis, without an ‘a’, which sets us decidedly, assuredly, without fear of exaggeration, apart from all other reptiles. Princess Shaila, the heroine of my books, once referred to me as a ‘begetter of toads and snakes.’ A recalcitrant female, the Princess, but that is a whole other discussion.”

[Gideon] “I know exactly how you feel.”

[Galvistor] “Do you? At another time, that will be a delightful dialogue. In any case, I informed the Princess in a very firm tone that toads are wholly unrelated and that a snake’s evolutionary path is much lower, lesser, fundamentally unrelated to such as I.”

Abrupt silence.

[Gideon] “Galvistor? Why are you staring at me like that?”

[Galvistor] “May I ask, with all due respect, deference, esteem—exactly what Classification do you fall under?”

[Gideon] “I don’t believe there’s a classification for the Olam. Are your eyes sensitive to very bright light? No? Then if you like, I can change for a moment into my real form.”

Faint humming sound, followed by a pause…

[Galvistor] “Fascinating! If I may…” Sucking sound of huge inhalation. “Oh dear…ah, ah, AHHH—” Eardrum-shattering sneeze. “Oh.” Sniff. “Bless me. No one else will.”

Short pause, followed by faint, damp hum. Human sigh.

[Gideon] “I suppose I should have anticipated that.” Sound of damp splat followed by low muttering. “One does not sniff an Olam. And my suit--”

[Galvistor] “I do beg your pardon. It's instinct, you know. Impulse. Nature. One simply has to take a little sniff in order to, well, evaluate a being. You have an interesting smell, at that. Rather energetic and crisp, like stratospheric ozone. Can that be dry-cleaned? The suit, of course, not the smell.”

[Gideon] Another sigh. “Perhaps we should change the subject. I’m sure the members of our audience have read other books containing creatures who call themselves dragons and they must have misconceptions as to the true nature of your type. Are you really as violent as we’ve been led to believe? For instance, have you ever been in a fight?”

[Galvistor] “There was a time when I would have resented the implication that I would lower myself to engage in a fight. A brawl. A clash of wills. However, times change and one changes with them. I hesitate to discuss my last fight—or the one before that. No fond memories to either one. Life changing circumstances, both--”

[Gideon] “Life changing circumstances are often the most interesting.”

[Galvistor] “Very well, I will tell you of those, but all in good time. Probably not today. One should begin at the beginning, I suppose. My first fight—ah! An interesting tussle more in line with my intellectual nature. Not that there wasn’t some physicality as well. If one must call it a ‘fight’, it came about because that sneak thief Azurstor had the temerity, nerve, impudence to filch a deer from my forest.”

[Gideon] “You have a forest? Then why are we stuffed into this cave?”

[Galvistor] “Well, alright, the King’s forest. But I’m responsible for it. During my brief sojourn outside the Veil, some of the other Dragons apparently thought I was gone for good because they began snatching, stealing, looting deer and who knows what other food beasts from the forest. I caught Azurstor—”

[Gideon] “Wait. Slow down. The King? The Veil? Who did you say is Azurstor?”

[Galvistor] “Azurstor is the blue Dragon that flies for the Kingdom of Roberyll. The only claim to fame for that small realm is that it contains The Only Sea. At least the only one in Isoladia. Where was I?”

[Gideon] Pause. “Hunting deer?”

[Galvistor] “Ah, yes, the blue thief was caught in the act! I had no recourse, choice, option but to attack. Well, what can I say? I wasn’t quite myself. The air outside the Veil had skewed my thoughts toward a more violent and most unnatural nature. I tore the reprobate’s wing. Stalled his flight in a most satisfying manner.”

[Gideon] “And then you ate him, of course. So the whole sacrificial virgin dietary requirement is just a myth?”

[Galvistor] “Virgin? Sacrifice? Great God Gansur—what a distasteful thought, and totally without merit. No, I did not eat the rascal! One does not consume a species of equitable intellect, no matter how aggravating they are. One certainly does not consume their own species!” Pause. “You don’t, uh, do such a thing, do you?”

[Gideon] “In my Olam form, I don’t even eat.”

[Galvistor] Sniff. “Ah. You have my most profound sympathy. Well, moving on. I did injure Azurstor, but I saved him from a nasty fall. A thousand years of civility, after all, are entrenched in my bones. Afterwards the disgusting creature had the gall to deny his culpability. Guilt. Fault. We had a marvelous oral encounter at that point.”

[Gideon] “Just a moment. Are you telling me all you did was rip his wing and give him a good scolding? What kind of fight is that?”

[Galvistor] “Verbal, my good man. Or…whatever you are. We engaged in a copious, profuse, bountiful exchange of words. Would you care to hear a few of our most memorable exchanges?” Silence. “I shall share them in any case. Do you good to learn from a master. Let me see…ah yes: I called him a ‘rapacious reptilian maggot’. To which he replied by calling me a ‘macrosomatous lizard’. I returned with a ‘miasmatic makebate’, and he countered with ‘mephitic megalonisic’. I got him one up with ‘microsephalic malefic medivor’, and he shot back with ‘mangy mordac—”

Sound of frantic keyboard tapping.

[Gideon] “I’m afraid my assistant has Wikipedia up again.”

[Galvistor] “Busy little fingers, aren’t they? Very well, but if you must please look the words up later. Otherwise we’ll be here all night! In any case, that’s as far as it went. Princess Shaila and Prince Sol—of course, he wasn’t a Prince at that point—interfered. Interjected themselves directly into the fray.”

[Gideon] “By…?”

[Galvistor] “Why—she yelled STOP, and of course, we did. I am civilized, after all. She is my Princess. To hear is to obey.”

[Gideon] “The women of Earth would adore you.”

[Galvistor] “I don’t do everything she tells me. But I try to be reasonably responsive, as suits the occasion and wisdom of the request. To do everything she requests would require that I clone my mighty self. And that I take leave of my phenomenal senses as well. Which I refuse to do. I suppose you have engaged in your share of physical encounters?”

[Gideon] Pause, followed by a laugh. “I suppose mine have been mostly verbal as well, with a few exceptions. But we should leave those stories for another time. You need to stretch your wings and Iwould like to get out of these wet clothes. But thank you again for volunteering to be the subject of our first interview.”

[Galvistor] “Oh, give it no second thought, consideration, reflection. Of course you wanted to interview me. Who would not, superior being that I am? How could I not but volunteer? In any case, you’re on the hot seat next.”

[Gideon] “Hot seat?”

[Galvistor] “Just a little jest, joke, heated humor. I’ll not be setting flame to a rock—or a chair, if that’s your choice of seat next time around. The flames tend to dry me out in any case. Speaking of which—I’m in the mood for an ale. A libation. A cold one. Care to join me, partake, tie one on?”

[Gideon] “I would, thank you.”

Sounds of equipment being gathered, shuffling feet and claws.

[Galvistor] “Not here, of course…oops. Sorry. Gotta watch the tail. So, let’s have that ale, after you dry off, of course. And bring along the little Wikipedia addict. The computer, however, isn’t invited.”

Voices fade out.