° Gizlah: Terra and Azon °

stories of the Taratus Clan by Neishai

° ° °

Curses, agonized screams, and machinegun gunfire echoed in Gizlah's sensitive ears. Under a leaf that engulfed his body, he shivered though the temperature approached ninety degrees Fahrenheit. It had begun to rain, and the sounds of death almost drowned out it's peaceful pitter-patter. Needless to say, when all factors had been calculated into the equation, the atmosphere was stifling.

In nature, he would never have been in such a place; several times in his journey through the jungle, the young vulpine shifter had come face-to-face with a creature that had no idea what to make of him. Similarly, his pursuers had not impeded his progress for they had much larger, more dangerous quarry to look for.

Shainon. Burying his small pointed nose between his paws, he whimpered. Where are you Shainon?

Unhindered, the fox had been able to rely on speed rather than stealth, though with his light footfalls and lightning-quick reflexes, timing would not have been an issue. As a result, he had arrived at the designated rendezvous before anyone else.

He hated that.

He was alone, terrified, and powerless. His speed was his strength, as was his small size. He couldn't have helped anyone else right now if he tried. As it was, he found himself paralyzed with fear. Again, Gizz whimpered. Whined softly. Waited.

Suddenly a shadow passed overhead; it was as large as a jet, but strangely quiet, even when it landed. Gizlah's ears twitched and he blinked his golden eyes. He had been dozing, and in that time the rain had stopped, its moisture evaporating to thicken the air like cornstarch added to gravy. He quickly rose to his feet, stretched, and peered out from under his leaf, only to dart his head back under cover.

His heart beat fiercely. The monstrosity that had landed in the clearing had wings and a 'pilot,' but the similarity ended there. Two glowing eyes and an animated tail put the airplane theory to rest. A demon! A monster! It must be a guardian of the forest come to kill us all! But no, it has a metallic surface like a plane! It must be a trick, or …

Confused, he checked again. Sure enough, there in the clearing stood a four-legged, winged dark-blue reptile of some sort, complete with a humanoid rider. Like a frightened box turtle, he hid under the leaf once more, curling into a tight ball of fur, his nose covered by the tip of his tail. Maybe they won't see me.

He heard voices then. One, though a whisper, had origins simply discerned by the little fox's large ears: the man. The other, however, he could not place. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"I don't see anyone." Kurt looked around, but saw nothing except for a cliff to one side, jungle on the other, and Phantom.

Look over there. The dragon indicated the wall of greenery across the clearing. Like any good searchrider, the half-demon did not question his bond. He strode over quickly and cautiously; had Gizlah been watching, he might have been struck by the man's unearthly grace. Instead he heard the softest of footfalls, that of a bipedal creature, and knew it was the rider.

As he lifted the thick green leaf away from the fox, Kurt was greeted with a terror-fueled snarl and many sharp little teeth. Gizlah pushed himself back as far as he could, away from the intruder. Stay back! the creature snarled, the words half uttered, half projected in thought.

Taken aback, Kurt dropped the leaf and stepped back a few paces. "We won't hurt you." To prove himself, Kurt remained out of reach, sitting down on the soft earth, and leaned against a tree.

It was not so much the man's inaction as his peculiar smell that drew the shifter from hiding. There was something, despite his appearance, that was particularly inhuman. It was similar to one of the Tarati, that which was both human and animal, a mixture that made them neither. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and despite his fear, decided to investigate.

First, a quivering, shiny-black nose, then a rusty snout emerged from the foliage. He comes. The rich, deep voice he knew to be the dragon's filled the fox's mind. Kurt forced himself not to jump, but slowly turned his head so that he could see. Gizlah's head was almost completely uncovered; he flattened to the ground, an instant from disappearing once more. But then something happened: a flash, like a strong emotion, flicked across the man's face turning it blue. His features had altered subtly as well, and his hair was a blue-black hue not quite possible in a human. And also in that lapse, Gizlah had discovered a tail, an appendage creatures with tails never quite have control over; a tail seems to need to be in constant motion.

Kurt's scent had been explained: he was only half human. Whatever else he was Gizlah understood to be a demon, but it did not really matter, for in this man, Gizlah had found a kindred spirit. Kurt's smile widened as Gizlah came out fully, to sit in front of him and regard him like an expectant feline. "I know who you are, brother," he yapped, "speaking" and thinking simultaneously in that odd, vocally-telepathic way, "You don't have to hide yourself from me."

Yes, it was as if Gizlah had not been the one hiding behind a tree, and he had been the one looking for Kurt. Phantom, finding this rather amusing, chuckled long and low, in that characteristic draconic way.

Gizz cocked his head at the sound. Then, still looking at Kurt, he continued, "I can change too, see?" Abruptly, the fox began to change, and suddenly before him crouched a boy of about fifteen. He was stark naked. Kurt averted his gaze. Gizlah tried to find what Kurt was looking at, failed, then abruptly rose and sauntered up to the deep-blue dragon. Machinegun fire in the distance made him jerk a few times, but now that he had found some company, was not quite as afraid. Not quite as worried for Shainon. But that was just the way Gizlah was; he just needed company, any company. Anything not directly related to his present company was arbitrary.

He sat down next to and gazed up at the impressive dragon. "Why have you come?" came the sandy-haired boy's soft voice. He had taken note of the singular, him in the dragon's speech, instead of the plural them. They were not looking for Shainon and the others, they were only looking for Gizz.

"Well, actually…" Kurt cleared his throat as he approached. And so came an explanation, in terms that Gizlah finally came to understand. To an extent. Kurt found that he was extremely simple-minded. He was not stupid by any means, but there were certain concepts that he simply had not grasped. Such as the need for clothing, the possibility of there being other worlds. Though his leader, Shainon, had mentioned such things as fairytale dragons and distant planets, they were all vague and abstract to Gizlah, whose duties and responsibilities had absolutely nothing to do with dreaming and imagination. Such things had been put from his mind.

"I was born a fox," he said matter-of-factly, a cheerful grin on his face. "I have no need for fantasy things. I only care about helping my friends and surviving."

"But Azon is no fantasy. It is very real. In fact, a dragon would help you get back at your captors, don't you think?"

Gizlah looked up at Phantom. Not only was he aesthetically appealing to the eye, but he really was intimidating. He had not really considered it since he had so quickly decided that he and Kurt were friends. He nodded. "You're right. I think Shainon would also agree."

But the machinegun fire was coming closer. He wasn't sure they could wait; Phantom was too large, and too irresistible a target for men hunting monsters. Instinctively, Gizz shifted back into his natural form, the fox.

"We have to go," Kurt urged. He was not about to put his dragon in danger like this. For his description of Azon, the half-demon had also learned about guerilla warfare.

Gizlah was torn. How could he go? If only he could contact Shane and Lori-- Lori! Shane! Where are you?

He received an amalgam of responses, all from various tarati in the area. There were so very few left alive, a realization that threatened to choke Gizlah. Shane was alive, but distant.

Somewhere, nowhere near here, he could feel Nion and Phryon; the latter touched his mind consolingly. Be strong, she said.

I will, he replied, then broke off, searching.

Gizlah! It was Lori.

I am safe, he told her.

Gizlah, the rendezvous is no longer safe. You must hide. There are too many of them…

I am with a half-man, he wants me to come with him, where it's safe.

He is not one of them?