Chapter 10 — The Dragon
And thus begins Chapter Ten.
Now.
There I was.
Pinballing.
The council applauds.
Children.
By this point I had fully abandoned any illusion of dancing.
Others danced.
I ricocheted.
A subtle but important distinction.
One moment I’d collide with a stranger.
The next moment a stranger would collide with me.
The dance floor had become a physics experiment.
And I was the projectile.
Now.
Somewhere amidst the music,
the lights,
and my ongoing battle against momentum,
something happened.
The council leans forward.
The suspicious tent pill activated.
The council immediately becomes concerned.
Correct.
Now.
Suddenly.
A dragon.
The council erupts.
Not a small dragon.
Not a symbolic dragon.
An absolute unit.
A sky sized beast soaring overhead.
Magnificent.
Glorious.
Impossible.
The council prepares for mystical revelations.
Children.
It was a drone show.
The council collapses.
Correct.
Now.
Let’s be clear.
That is not how ecstasy works.
At least I don’t think it is.
To this day I remain wonderfully underqualified to explain the mechanics involved.
What I do know is this:
I was absurdly happy.
And simultaneously felt like someone had connected my nervous system directly to an industrial espresso machine.
The council nods.
A reasonable scientific description.
Now.
The dragon vanished.
The drones continued doing whatever technologically advanced birds do.
And I returned to my sacred duty.
Pinballing.
The council applauds.
Now.
Occasionally I danced with Gunman.
The commander of the expedition.
The man who somehow always looked like he knew what was happening.
A skill I deeply admired.
Now.
Beard Man was different.
The council listens.
You see,
Beard Man was a quiet creature.
A watcher.
An observer.
The kind of man perfectly content standing at the edge of the chaos while everyone else launched themselves into it.
And there he stood.
Watching.
The council nods.
A respectable strategy.
Children.
Not on my watch.
The council immediately becomes concerned.
Correct.
Now.
I possess many talents.
Most of them questionable.
One of my greatest gifts is the ability to become so relentlessly annoying that cooperation becomes the easier option.
The council applauds.
A powerful skill.
And so I deployed it.
Relentlessly.
Without mercy.
Without dignity.
Until eventually Beard Man surrendered.
The council cheers.
Victory.
Now.
He danced.
Awkwardly.
Reluctantly.
Like a man negotiating with gravity.
But he danced.
And children,
that was enough.
Because there is something beautiful about watching someone step outside themselves for a moment.
Even briefly.
Even imperfectly.
Especially imperfectly.
The council smiles.
Now.
The hours slipped away.
Music became atmosphere.
Atmosphere became memory.
Memory became blur.
The council grows quiet.
The rave continued.
The mountains continued.
The dancers continued.
The night itself seemed determined to continue forever.
But I did not.
The council nods.
Eventually every adventure reaches the point where the body files a formal complaint.
Mine had been submitting paperwork for hours.
Now.
The music grew distant.
The lights softened.
The world blurred around the edges.
And then.
darkness arrived.
Not frightening.
Not dramatic.
Simply inevitable.
The council lowers their heads.
Like the final page of a chapter turning itself.
Thus concludes Chapter Ten.
The Dragon.
The Dance Floor.
The Conversion of Beard Man.
And the night the Unbegun discovered that joy can occasionally arrive disguised as complete nonsense.
The rave continued.
The mountains watched.
The pack remained.
And somewhere beneath the music,
the wandering carried on.
Even after the lights went out.
