The boy gave the bells around his wrist another ring and listened as their keening voices bounced off the glass windows and down the halls and into the dark.
"We don't have time to play, Zhan."
The boy, Zhan, glanced at his companion then shrugged. The man was crouched on the floor as he fiddled with the exposed wires protruding from the hole in the wall. There was a bright spark and the door in front of them stubbornly slid open.
The man rose and dusted off his gloved hands. He dropped his beautifully crafted eyes to check the watch on his wrist then looked up again.
"We have time. If you want to-" he began.
"I do," said Zhan and started to walk back down the path they'd come.
The man sighed and shook his head. "I'll see you back on the surface," he called after the boy.
Zhan didn't turn but waved a hand and disappeared into the dark.
--
Bran's shoes and Misha's claws echoed down the hallway. Security had already passed through to evacuate the staff but a quick word from Helen had stopped them from bundling both Bran and Misha off to the surface.
To be honest, the dragon was feeling rather uncertain about him and Bran taking on the responsibility to see what was going on all of a sudden, but Helen acted like this was the usual and Bran seemed to know what he was doing, so Misha kept his doubts to himself.
And to avoid being sent away, he decided to keep to his dragon form. At least this way he could be some use if they ran into trouble.
Bran held up his sword. He uttered something under his breath and the blade glowed to life. It was back to its European, longsword look, making it remind Misha even more of the mythical Excalibur, its namesake.
Neither spoke as they walked the length of the corridor, both too focused on eyes and ears to make their usual banter.
Suddenly Bran took a few quick steps forward and raised his sword. "Get back!" he ordered.
Before Misha could disobey, something slammed against Bran's blade, pushing him back with a clang. Misha immediately used his tail to steady Bran then darted forward to meet their attacker.
This attacker was nimbler than even the dragon and easily pirouetted out of the range of Misha's snapping jaws.
Surprised, Misha withdrew back like a snake, ready to defend or attack as the need arose, all while keeping Bran safely within his coils. This position also allowed him to catch a proper look at the stranger in the dim light.
They were short, short like a child, though they moved with a grace that could only be honed by years and years of practice. Misha concluded that this boy - at least he guessed it was a boy - had to be some kind of supernatural creature or at least, than his apparent youthfulness was a facade.
The boy crouched and Misha caught a glimpse of a string of small bells around the boy's wrist before the boy sprang forward for another attack.
Bran's hand had already pressed down on Misha's neck before the boy started moving and, somehow, Misha knew to duck as Bran swung his sword around to meet the boy's attack.
Clang!
Again, there was that metallic sound on impact, which was strange as the boy looked to be emptyhanded.
Misha growled and lowered himself to the ground then pounced forward in an attempt to catch the boy off guard.
It worked, but only partially. Again, the boy was able to twist to the side before Misha could inflict him with any harm.
Misha tried to dig his claws into the smooth metal floor, slid, then yanked himself back in the other direction to attack again.
This was the first mistake.
As he turned, he saw the boy raise his hand, the one with the bells, then make a twisting motion with his hand.
Pain exploded in Misha's ears, and he hurtled past his target and slammed into the opposite wall.
"Misha!" Bran yelled, immediately forgetting everything else and rushing to him.
This was the second mistake.
The boy grinned, his teeth glinting silver, then darted forward toward his target.
--
Cold.
That was the first thing I felt when I came too. And wet.
My head ached but I forced my eyes open.
I was flying. No, not flying. Floating. Floating in open water.
My first instinct was to snap my mouth shut, to stop breathing, but in doing so I realised that I was already breathing underwater. You had said that Asian dragons are associated with water, but I hadn't realised that meant underwater breathing.
I twisted and immediately tried to look for you. I realise now that looking for you had already become a habit even back then, one that hasn't changed since.
The water was dark, but perhaps because I was now in the water and not merely looking through it, I found it far easier to see my surroundings. Panic rose in my chest.
All around were great shards of glass and metal and, some distance away, I could make out the outline of the lower floors of the South Sea Department. Something had gone seriously wrong, and I didn't know where you were.
Bran, I tried to shout, but of course I couldn't form the word. All I could do was make a garbled groan that came out as a stream of bubbles.
And that's when I saw you floating some metres above me.
I didn't think, merely swam; merely swam to you and grasped you between my claws and wrapped around your legs with my tail.
Your eyes were closed, and you didn't respond to my touch. A thin trail of bubbles escaped the corner of your mouth.
I had to get you to the surface, but I also couldn't do it too quickly.
I wasn't sure how many metres we were underwater, but given we'd gone down fifteen floors, I estimated it was at least twenty-five metres. That was enough distance to make water pressure and moving up and down through it too fast a problem.
There was nothing for it.
I beat my tail in a circular motion to slowly push us upward while grasping you with my two forelimbs, then transformed back into a human.
As I had guessed, my human form couldn't breathe water like my dragon form could but I had to do it. I held you tight with my hands and brought our mouths together. A dragon's mouth doesn't have lips like a human so if I wanted to give you air, this was the only way.
Your eyelashes fluttered as I breathed air into you but didn't open. I kept circulating air to you.
After a few breaths, I could tell there wasn't enough oxygen anymore, so I covered your mouth with a hand, transformed back into a dragon, took a few breaths, then transformed back to give you air again.
I don't know how long it took to get us back up to the surface, but it felt like an eternity to me. There was the strain from the constant shifting forms, and of course from the swimming, but the hardest thing for me to do was to keep myself from going crazy from worry for you.
Finally, our heads broke the surface, and I quickly changed back into a dragon and swam us to the edge of the inland sea. When we reached it, I transformed one last time into a human and gave you mouth-to-mouth.
It was noisy, incredibly noisy, and there were lights and strange smells, but none of that was important. All that mattered to me was the moment your body convulsed, and you spluttered water all over me.
"...Bran..." I murmured, a smile on my lips, then fell into darkness.
Helen tells me that I was only out for as long as it took for the rescue crew to find us on the beach and bring us to the temporary shelter in a connecting cave. There was a whole system of the things going off in multiple directions from the lake that are used for all kinds of things from grain warehouses to rental properties.
When I woke, I was lying in a simple hospital bed, one of many in the cave. There were naked lightbulbs strung from the ceiling and when I sat up I saw that the rest of the beds were all taken as well. Some people looked to just be unconscious or sleeping while some had clear wounds and were wrapped up in bandages.
I looked down and saw that someone had dressed me in a hospital gown and loose trousers. There were a few bandaids here and there, but I otherwise looked okay. Well, other than all the scales. I turned my arms then checked my legs and under the gown. Looked like all that quick transforming back and forth had taken its toll: I was now mostly human with a good dose of dragon in the form of clawed hands, taloned feet, and lots of white scales.
I sighed and immediately thought to ask you how permanent this was, then realised something awful: I didn't know where you were.
Feeling a little panicked, I swung my legs out of bed and felt the floor with my feet to see if I could walk in this state. It was a little awkward, but it seemed doable.
I stood.
"Misha!"