Category: TIBLR

After belting out a completely unnecessary, but nevertheless cool roar out into the afternoon sky, Caelian shrunk back to his humanoid form and turned towards me.

I honestly didn’t know what to say. The villain entered, monologued, had a hissy fit and was yeeted out of existence in barely a minute of imaginary screen time. The climax was over. Now what.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, shit. Did not expect that!

“This whole situation is my fault. I…” Caelian rubbed his ear nervously, looking up at me from under his lashes. He sighed.

“You were right. About the bond. I have forced it upon you without your consent, and that was wrong of me. I will make it right.”

Baffled by this genuine human interaction, I stood silent.

“We haven’t completed it yet. So I can undo it and… set you free.” he reached over to my chest, the neon blue sigil lighting up again between us, sending tingles through my skin.

“I am grateful. For you saving me, that is. Genuinely. And if you want me to do a favour of your choice, you may simply name it. I will do anything within my power.” he frowned, concentrating as the rings of the sigil snapped one after another. Once it was done, he breathed in a sharp gasp and backed away, wincing. It probably hurt him to do that.

I felt no pain, but a subtle sense of loss that I could not describe. Caelian looked so brokenhearted that I felt a little bad about the way I treated him.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. It’s just bad writing.” I patted him on the shoulder in solidarity.

“I… don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I shrugged and looked around at the idyllic landscape.

“So… now what?”

“I don’t know…” Caelian replied, looking like a lost puppy. He was the last of his kind, no purpose, no bonded partner, not even a crazy ex to bother him. I knew this was not how the original story was supposed to end. Probably had a dramatic betrayal scene, maybe one of the male leads sacrificed themselves for the other or something along those lines. This was just… bleak.

“Mind if I take you up on the flying thing?” I asked, jokingly punching him in the bicep. Caelian looked at me, confused but a little happier. He was about to answer me when the entire area started to glitch.

“Aw man, not again,” I complained as I rubbed my head, a headache coming on fast and brutal.

“Ethan… what is happening?!” Caelian was looking around me frantically. He gasped when a particularly bad interference zig-zagged by the Heart of the Forest, interrupting the rainbow fountain stream.

“Wait. You can see it too now?!” I exclaimed, worried that I messed with the script so much that even Caelian was now involved.

“Is this what you saw previously? No wonder you were afraid.” 

“Yeah, it wasn’t as bad though,” I replied, looking at ominous patches of black static now consuming swathes of the landscape. I had a sinking feeling that something truly horrible was going to happen, and I couldn’t stop it.

“Ethan, take my hand!” Caelian reached for me just as a black patch appeared under my feet. I felt myself slip through the ground, hand outstretched towards Caelian’s worried face. It was the last thing I saw before being plunged into the abyss.

I hurtled through the darkness for what seemed like days. I felt my mind stretch and bend, a cacophony of sounds and voices intermingling in a horrendous noise that made my ears bleed. I screamed in agony, but it was lost in the miasma of sound until…

I was slammed into a metal locker by some kid wearing a strange football uniform. I was still disoriented from the unravelling of the world around me.

“What the hell are you doing here, Liam!”

Who the hell was Liam? Oh, shit. I guess me?

“Huh?!” was the only coherent response I could muster.

“I told you not to follow me around, you freak! I don’t care if we are on the same team, and I don’t care what my dad says…”

No…. No, God, please, no…

“Our parents may be married now, but I’m never calling you my brother.”

God fucking damn it.

“I waited centuries to show you the truth, and now… now you see!”

I crossed my arms and waited for her to finish the exposition. It was only polite.

“Caelian, did you not think that it was odd? This little elf’s blood was so potent as to dispel the magic around you and the Heart as well? Do you have any idea who he is?”

I perked up at that. I had the same question all throughout this story, but considering the genre, I had lost all hope of having an explanation.

Caelian huffed and stood in front of me, hand outstretched to protect me. I rolled my eyes.

“Tell him your name, boy.”

“Ethan Thornwood,” I replied eagerly, waiting for this to be something. Anything.

“What?” Caelian flinched from me, clearly recognising the last name I never mentioned.

The spirit of vengeance laughed. “Exactly! The very Thornwood who betrayed you centuries ago and led to the downfall of dragonkind! The traitor who broke the sacred bond. The traitor you shared a bed with!”

“Hold up, now.” I could feel my hopes for a good twist being dashed as this went on. But I had to set the record straight at least. “There was no bed sharing involved, I assure you. Also, this doesn’t make any sense.”

“What?” The witch glared at me like I threw her baby out the window.

“Hear me out.” I began. My turn to monologue now, bitch. “You say my ancestors broke the sacred bond with the dragons. Elaborate on that, please, Caelian?”

“They were bound through an oath, like you and I. But heedless of their mortality, they ventured into battle with the human kingdom and perished.”

“Ah ha! Objection!” I yelped. “I invoke the proximity clause!”

Both Caelian and The Spirit looked at me in silence. I felt a little embarrassed but carried on. 

“The bonded partners cannot be too far away from the dragons, isn’t that right? About a mile or so away? So how did the elves manage to mobilise themselves and head to a battlefield to fight the humans without the dragons knowing about it? I reckon they were both present at said battle, and there is more to the story than you claim.”

I saw Caelian’s face light up in recognition and the Spirit gasp in horror at my statement. The girl had no poker face.

“How DARE you, lowly mortal! You disrespect the glorious dead! Not only do you besmirch their honour, but your filthy blood is also what sealed Caelian in that cave all those centuries ago!”

“Oh, I’m not done.” I had a hunch and decided to roll with it. “The Thornwoods are a family of rangers. Bows, arrows, backflips, all that. Not a single one of them even remotely had any magic; is that not so?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Caelian began to get closer to me again, clearly buying what I was peddling.

“So how would they be able to seal an ancient dragon, one that hasn’t bonded to anyone yet?” Caelian’s face was a sight to behold. Check.

“Oh, and by the way.” I bent down and picked up a pebble. “Think fast.”

I launched it at the villainess. She shrieked, and her staff went up to deflect the projectile with her magic. A sigil of the same red colour and the same symbols materialised in the air, distorting the trajectory of the pebble. Checkmate.

I looked with satisfaction at Caelian’s face, who saw the whole thing. I pointed at the Heart and at him, then at the woman heaving angrily in the distance.

“Notice anything, oh ancient one? Something tells me this ‘Spirit of Vengeance’ over there is the one who trapped you in the cave. I rest my case.”

“NO!!” the woman shrieked and ran towards us. I backed away behind Caelian as he shielded me.

“Caelian! He is lying! Don’t you remember me! I would never hurt you! I love you!”

Oh, boy. A crazy ex-girlfriend.

“Begone, witch. I know not who you are.” He replied with such a similar cadence to the well-known meme that I almost cracked up in laughter.

“I am Lyra! Your companion all those years ago before his family destroyed the last of the dragons! I just wanted to open your eyes to how vile these Thornwoods were!”

“Ma’am. Not to pour salt on the wound, but if you loved him, why the hell did you seal him for centuries in that dark cave?” I retorted, feeling flames of righteous anger licking at my feet. “If you really wanted to be his partner,  you could have just sealed him for a year or two and then conveniently freed him, making him go all gooey-eyed at you as he did at me.”

“What…. I…. I….” She froze mid-sob. Her face was confused, angry and twitching between the two in an uncanny valley sort of way. I realised I might have short-circuited the villain by accident.

“ENOUGH!” Caelian yelled and transformed into his dragon form. He full-on chomped on the witch and flung his head out, tossing whatever was left of her into the deep forest. 

I didn’t even have time to blink.

We walked in complete silence for hours. Caelian seemed distracted and solemn as we were winding our way through frankly verdant and untouched woodland. I was wondering if there even was a blight. I had not seen a single hint of anything dead or any other creature apart from those shadow wolves during this whole journey.

We eventually ended up on top of a hill, with a view of the magnificent sprawling greenery all around us, open and spacious. What must it look like from above? I wondered and glanced at Caelian. Must have been horrible, being cooped up in that dark subterranean space when you were made for the skies. Maybe I should ask him to take me flying. When else would I get the chance? And I’m sure the stupid BL logic would love it and treat it as a ‘bonding’ moment or whatnot.

“We’re here.” Caelian gestured to the centre of the hill where a large green bulb was protruding from the ground. As we neared closer to it, I saw a similar dark red sigil hover in the air above it, chains clinging to the stalk and roots of it.

“Heart of the Forest is a flower, of course,” I stated, matter-of-factly, as I circled the thing.

“So, we found the thing. How do we, I don’t know, purify it?”

Caelian levelled me with a long stare. I knew what that usually meant, so I kept an ear out for the dreaded saxophone and my guard up. It didn’t come, however. Caelian looked uncomfortable.

“Erm… well…”

“What is it?”

“Remember when I told you that the bond would give you my power and magic?”

“Yeah. Kinda got overshadowed by the side effect of a heart attack, though.”

“Well…” he kept hesitating, looking away from me or down. It was infuriating.

“That happens when the bond has been… completed.”

“Okay.” I drawled, questioning brow raised. “How do we complete it then?”

He looked at me then, a flush making its way to his cheeks. I heard the literal gulp sound his throat made as he was… too shy to answer.

Yeah, nope. None of that.

“Hold on a sec.” I squatted in front of the Heart and studied the sigil again. Still had no idea what it meant, but now I was sure it was the same as the one that bound Caelian back in the cave. Could be recycled assets. Could be the same thing. Might as well try.

I pulled out the dagger from my backpack. Before Caelian managed to stop me, I grabbed it in my left palm and pulled, drawing blood. I’ve seen it done in movies a lot. It was cool as hell. No one told me it hurt like a bitch, though.

“Motherfu….” I groaned, cradling my injured palm, as a trickle of blood hit the leaves of the Heart of the Forest and the sigil lit up as it did in the cave. The chains dispersed, and the flower bloomed in front of our eyes, all colours of the rainbow spouting from it like a Pride Parade fountain and shooting into the sky.

“Are you insane!” Caelian yelped and grabbed my wrist. He brought it to his mouth to lick the wound shut, and I let him, because it hurt like hell and because that one phrase has haunted every single one of the stories I have seen in my short time perusing the catalogue. It was like a tell-tale sign that the story was AI. Almost like ChatGPT’s em dash thing.

Suddenly, an evil laugh resonated through the clearing, and a hot woman clad in black robes emerged from the treeline. She walked with a confident strut, a gnarled staff in her hand. The plot thickened.

“I see you have solved my riddle, little elf.” Wasn’t really a riddle, but whatever. “But was it worth it?”

I gestured to her with my healed hand and shrugged.

“Not too bad, honestly. And you are?”

“I am The Spirit of Vengeance!” She spoke, and lightning streaked through the cloudless sky around her. Oh, great. The dramatic villain monologue was here.

I turned towards Caelian, who was leaning against the tree, watching me with worry. He looked genuinely concerned about me, which made what I was going to say next even harder. But I just had to know.

“Ok, let’s all calm down now.” I started and sat cross-legged on the grass. “Please, sit. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Of course!” Caelian happily plopped down before me, tail and scales gone between one blink and the next and horns at a slightly different angle. Stupid 3D rendering inconsistencies.

“Alright then. Question number one: Do you not feel it even a little strange how you just… knew… I am the one? Like, if someone else came into that cave eventually and freed you, wouldn’t they be the one?”

“Ethan…” he tried to move towards me, but I put up a hand, gesturing for him to stay seated. “Since I laid eyes on you, I knew that…”

“Yes, yes.” I interrupted the over-cliché dialogue before it revved up and the sax came back. “But is this like a dragon feature? Do you all know your fated one instantly when you lay eyes on them? Why did you ask who goes there, then? Did you not already know it was me, your fate, etcetera etcetera?”

“I…” he hesitated, frowning. “No, dragons don’t have this ‘feature’ you speak of. I just…”

He looked up at me, confused.

“I just knew, I guess.”

“OK. Food for thought. Question number two: You say you were sealed in that cave for centuries, right?”

“Indeed.” he looked down and sighed wistfully. “I was trapped under the evil spell, preventing me from shifting into my humanoid form and binding me to that dark place. You freed me from centuries of torture.”

“Cool. Question number three: You said you were the last of the Black dragons. Are there other types of dragons flying around somewhere or what?”

“Not that I know of.” He frowned again, not seeing where I was going with this. “I am the last of my kind. Have been before I have been bound.”

“Great. Question number four: If you are the last of the dragons and spent the last few centuries buried under a seal in that cave, whose fresh dragon footprints did I track to find you then? Is there another giant lizard mucking about the woods? A T-rex perhaps?”

“I…” Caelian looked at me with astonished horror. “I… I don’t think so? If they were dragon footprints, then… but I haven’t left the cave… I…”

I felt vindicated at his stupor. Whoever wrote this stupid script clearly needed a reason for Ethan to find the cave, but the whole ‘last of his kind’ trope was too hard to resist and not put in here. Creating a logical fallacy. Caelian looked like his brain was going to cook as he kept muttering to himself random words and phrases, trying to figure this puzzle out.

At least the male lead wasn’t stupid: When shown clear inconsistencies, he at least listened to me.

As I was indulging in my own smugness, I saw the sky flicker. Like an old TV getting interference. It happened a few seconds later, but now it was everywhere but around Caelian and me.

“Holy shit! Did you see that?!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

“See what?” Caelian looked up at me, utterly confused.

I pointed at the fracturing picture around us

“You are not seeing this at all?”

As he shook his head, a sense of dread came over me for the umpteenth time that day. If I was inside a short reel, then maybe making the male lead question the mechanics of the plot was… breaking the system? Could I go back if I break it fully? Or would I die alongside it?

Shit. It was too risky to try it here, mid-story, before the climax even hit. Maybe I should move the plot along and get more details of this system first before I completely fuck with it.

“It’s nothing. Welp, about time we went to find this Heart of the Forest, yeah? Come on! Stay within five paces, you hear.” I rattled out and pulled Caelian to his feet.

Still frowning, he nodded solemnly and trudged along after me as we returned to our campsite.

I woke up abruptly, disoriented and boiling hot. I felt a large warm form curled around my back and smiled, Sparkie breathing steadily and heavily next to me, as he always did in the mornings. Instead of waking me up, he would hop onto my bed and snooze in the warm sheets until I finally stirred. Then the crazy tail would take out anything in the vicinity of the bed.

I reached out my hand to pet his silky coat. It was soft and smooth and… way too long? I opened my bleary eyes to find a long trail of inky black hair splattered across my shoulder and arm. In my stupor, I wondered if Sparkie was out in the mud and dreaded cleaning the sheets. Then it all came back to me.

I jolted awake, trying to get up and get as far away from not-Sparkie, but was stopped dead by a massive arm curled tight around my waist. Caelian was mumbling something in his sleep, bare chest snug to my back and searing hot. Panic overtaking my common sense, I pinched his arm hard around the wrist area, causing him to pull back slightly and giving me an opening to scramble the hell out of there. I backed up to the stone wall of the cave, staring at the reclining form of the magical dragon-man.

He was massive. Did he grow in his sleep? His human form now sported additional black scales that weren’t there last night, and a long sinewy tail was still curled halfway up my leg. His long eyelashes fluttered as he rolled onto his back and stretched. The early morning light sparkled across his taut muscles and scales, making him glow. I looked outside, and it was still goddamn dark.

I’ve had enough. I stomped out of the cave, leaving my bags and the sleepy weirdo behind, and ran out into the woods. I sprinted like I was being chased by a pack of wild dogs, Caelian’s shouts growing distant as I made a frankly inhuman amount of distance between us.

Suddenly, my heart seized in my chest and fucking stopped. I gasped for air, toppled over and dropped like a sack of stones onto the nearest patch of moss. I couldn’t breathe. The raging pulse in my ears was gone, replaced by ringing silence as the blood supply to my brain was abruptly cut off. I had enough adrenaline pumping through me to look down and see a bluish-black sigil light up through my clothes and glow neon in the dim morning. As I lost consciousness, I saw huge black wings cover the sky.

To my surprise, I woke up. I was cradled in Caelian’s arms, and he was rocking my body back and forth, like I was a fussy toddler. I raised my head weakly and felt huge, hot tears drop onto my cheeks and roll down my face. The moment our eyes met, Caelian froze and clutched me to him.

“Wha… what’s going on?”

“Why did you run!?” he growled at me, face still buried in my neck.

“I… erm… what?” I asked in my stupor, still confused as hell, my chest aching.

He finally pulled his head away from me and looked me straight in the eyes, his intent gaze carrying a lot of unspoken things I had no capacity to understand.

“You cannot be far from me. You’ll die.”

“Excuse me, the fuck?” I managed, as the sentences seemed to not make any goddamn sense.

“The bond. The boon I have given you, it…” he hesitated, swallowing, “…it requires us to be within a certain distance of each other at all times. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise freaking heart failure?!”

He nodded solemnly.

I just stared back.

“Umm. Ok. Cool.” I got up, still a little lightheaded. “Cool, cool, cool.” It fucking wasn’t.

“Ethan…”

“Quick question. Did I, at any point yesterday, say that ‘Yes, thank you, I’d like a proximity heart failure sigil on my chest, please and thank you?!” I could feel my voice rising.

“No, you did not. But…”

“Great! Then why… the FUCK… would you put it on me?!”

“I…” Caelian looked genuinely scared of my meltdown, but the level of fucks I had to give at that moment was below zero.

“Why, Caelian? Hmm… Just tell me why?” I squatted right in front of him, arms outstretched in befuddlement.

“I told you that if you released me, I would uphold the accord between our people and grant you a boon.” Ok. Fine. That was on me.

“Did you not think that maybe, just maybe, I would not be familiar with the terms and conditions of an ancient ‘boon’ that existed long before I was born, hm?”

“It is a powerful thing, Ethan!” Caelian rose to face me, getting angry as well. “It is a sacred bond between the blood of elves and dragons. My power, my magic, is yours to command through this bond! It is a gift!”

“Are you for real?”

“I swear upon my very existence.”

“Ultimate power is great and all, but what about the damn logistics?”

“Logistics?”

I put my face into my hands to stifle my scream.

I counted to ten and blew out a huge breath. I just had a heart attack, and this argument was increasing my blood pressure. Having a perfectly medical reason for my anticlimactic death would be hilarious but absolutely unacceptable, so I had to calm down.

I looked back at Caelian’s huffing face. He was a lot more dragon-like now, scales climbing up his shoulders to his face, teeth sharper than usual. Maybe he couldn’t control his transformation as well when he was emotional?

“Ok, so logistics. Let’s say, hypothetically, you need to go hunt something to eat. I assume you eat raw meat and copious amounts of it?”

“I do, yes.”

“Fabulous. Well, you are up in the sky flying around to get food, and I’m on the ground here. Doesn’t that break this bond?!”

“Well, you just come with me on my back. We fly through the sky together.” This bastard genuinely smiled, thinking this was a good idea.

“Ok, never mind. Another example. Let’s say we are fighting some bad guys; they keep you busy in one place, restrain and put me on a horse and ride away with me before you can fly to get me…”

“I will never let that happen!” Caelian growled and grabbed my shoulders. I shrugged him off.

“I said hypothetically, dumbass!” I told myself to breathe and not blow my lid. “What would happen?”

“If we reach a certain distance, your heart would stop. And so would mine.”

“Say what now?”

“I am bound by this covenant also. We must stay close for both of our sakes.” Caelian moved towards me slowly, like I was a skittish horse.

“Are you genuinely stupid?” The absurdity of the situation hit me like a truck, and I simply could not get angrier.

“You are an immortal ancient freaking dragon. By doing this ‘bond’ or whatever, you technically bound yourself to a long-living but ultimately mortal creature! That means when I die, you die!”

“I know.”

I paused, dumbfounded.

“You know…You know?! If you know, then why the hell would you do that?!”

“Life has no meaning without you.”

“Oh,  you’re just taking the piss now.”

He looked confused. Tentatively, he glanced down at his loincloth, and I cackled out loud.

“We’ve known each other for what, less than a full day? And you are ready to die for me? Make it make sense, man!”

“I felt it in the cave when I saw you.” He seemed to grow more confident spouting these ridiculous lines. He moved closer, and I moved back. I felt myself collide with a tree trunk, and his arms slammed into it, pinning me.

“You are my destiny, Ethan. We were meant to bond.”

The dreaded saxophone started up again. He was breathing heavily now for no apparent reason, droplets of sweat dripping down his bobbing Adam’s apple, making that spooshing noise I heard in the cave, and all of a sudden, everything clicked into place.

The inconsistent size difference, the clipping wolves, the unreadable script, the bloody soundtrack, the weird-ass conveniently inconvenient magic, the chunky pacing… It all made sense now.

“FUCK ME!” I yelped as the realisation of how screwed I was solidified in my mind

“If you insist…”

“NO, moron, get off me.” I slid under his arm and walked slightly off, making sure he was within a few paces of me. I clutched my hair in despair. This wasn’t just any bad script or first draft of a rookie writer. It was so much worse than that.

I was stuck in an AI BL short reel drama.

I was backing away from the huge dragon-hybrid-man who was trudging towards me with some sort of intent I did NOT want to process at this moment. The air still had that stupid pinkish hue, and I was desperately trying to latch on to any semblance of sanity in this otherwise crazy ass situation.

“Hey, so like, tell me about your family.” I blurted out, completely terrified and lost for words. I was hoping the complete conversational derailment would snap Caelian from whatever funky vibe he was sporting into reality. To my avid surprise, it worked. Caelian blinked once, twice and took in a deep breath, running his hands through his long hair.

I saw him rub the edge of a slightly pointed ear, nothing like my five-inch-long protrusions, but still different from the usual rounded human shape. It was such a vulnerable motion that it stuck with me long after. He looked back up at me, eyes clear, the weird haze in the air gone and the distant saxophone disappearing like the mist.

“I… I haven’t thought about them in a long time. It’s been centuries since another black dragon graced the skies alongside me.” His golden eyes dimmed slightly as he looked out into the dark sky.

“Shit, man. I’m sorry. Must be tough, being all alone.” I felt a pang of longing for my mom’s omelette, my dad’s booming laugh, the bombastic side-eye Sparkie threw my way whenever I didn’t share my food. My nose prickled, but I staved off the oncoming tears and smiled at Caelian.

He was watching me intently. “Not anymore.” He said quietly.

“Not anymore what?”

“Nothing. We shouldn’t stay here. There may be more of them.” He abruptly changed the subject and headed firmly into the dark woods. I followed.

We walked for an hour more before fatigue caught up with me. I was fighting to keep my eyes open, all this fresh air and exercise trying to lull me to sleep. I didn’t notice a protruding tree root and tripped like an absolute moron. I did not reach the ground, however, but was cushioned by a wall of smooth, firm flesh as Caelian caught me in his arms.

It belatedly occurred to me that my palms looked tiny in comparison to the width of those shoulders. I could swear they were only slightly wider than mine before, and he was only a head taller. It looked as if he was twice my size in this position. To be fair, he did change his size at will from dragon to human, so maybe he bamfed a little bigger to have a better chance of catching me? Dragons, man.

“Thanks. Could we break camp soon? I’m falling asleep on my feet.” I tried to extricate myself from him, but he refused to let go. I could feel the heat radiating from his chest, which now glistened with… sweat? Why was his hair wet? Did it start raining?

I tried to push off of him to stand straight, and my hand slipped on his enormous peck and slid down. He moaned, deep and guttural. I froze in place, afraid to fucking move, listing all the pages of dragon lore through my head, trying to remember if there was anything about them spontaneously heating up and sweating, maybe from an excess of fire in their belly? Anything but the uncomfortable thought that in this fantasy story I had the misfortune to encounter a dragon in freaking heat!

“Don’t… move…” he mumbled, the distant saxophone increasing in volume along with my dread. I ignored him and pushed off violently, using my dexterity to balance myself as I pointedly refused to look at him.

“Oh, well, what would you know. A cave. Perfect for camp.” I rattled off and nearly ran towards it. I heard Caelian fucking growl behind me and swore under my breath. 

He did behave himself as I was setting up camp. When I pointedly looked at him and then at the bundle of twigs that was going to be the campfire, he didn’t protest my use of him as a glorified flint and lit it without comment. It was quiet and peaceful here; whatever this blight was, it was apparently not severe enough to spread through the entire forest. I could feel Caelian’s eyes on me and every attempt he made to speak up and then stopping himself. With everything quieting down, I inherently felt the entire setting was giving me a cue to ask him questions, bond, get that ‘Now that we are not in danger, tell me about yourself’ exposition dump over and done with. But I simply turned away and went to bed.

Whatever this stupid story was, at least I had the early warning system of those damn saxophones giving me a heads-up. As long as I kept it from getting too intense, maybe I could get away with it. I probably would never be able to listen to jazz again, though.

“Erm, say what now?!” I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out as the Hunkathron 1000 over there was smirking with self-satisfaction.

“My boon, little one.” Ew, no. “My power, the protection of my flesh, my very essence…” The dragon, Caelian, reached out to caress my cheek. All of a sudden, the dusty air took on a pinkish hue, and I heard a strange melody playing out of nowhere. What the hell was going on?!

“Not many mortals can brag of having such power.”

“That’s all great and all…” I hurried to say as I pushed the extremely veiny hand away from my face. Thankfully, that stopped the music as well. “… but I am here to cure the forest blight. Know anything about it, oh ancient one?”

Caelian huffed in amusement, but backed away. He looked out dramatically towards the direction of the cave entrance and spoke. At length.

“I know the blight you speak of. It used to be a protection spell, placed upon these woods to keep them in the season of Spring for all eternity. The Heart of the Forest.”

That extremely generic name reverberated through the cavern, and I could swear I heard a literal sound effect of a droplet appearing out of nowhere right by my ear. I looked up, looking for stalactites, but the damn dragon crumbled them all during his stretch earlier.

“Over the centuries, it was corrupted. Now that I am free, I can purify it and stop this blight from harming your people.” The dragon turned towards him, smiling and reaching out his massive hand.

“Let us leave this place.”

Score! Problem solved. I was a little disappointed that the mystery of this Heart of the Forest wasn’t more elaborate. So far there were no particular hurdles or challenges to conquer, except for bleeding on a seal and dealing with an exhibitionist dragon. But maybe the mystery came after. Maybe the author was lulling me into a false sense of security. I loved that kind of trope.

“Alright then! Let’s head out!” I smiled and began to make my way out of the cavern. By the time I reached the surface and my eyes adjusted to the daylight, the dragon was exactly five paces behind me at all times. It was a little weird but I just rolled with it and gestured to the woods.

“Any idea where we should go?”

Caelian stepped forward, kneeling on the ground and closing his eyes. He placed his palm on the earth and slowed. All sounds stopped for a second, birds suspended in mid-flight, a dragonfly frozen right before my eyes. That was one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

He rose after a few moments, the world coming back to itself.

“We go that way.” he pointed towards a generic patch of the woods.

“Awesome! Lead the way.” I exclaimed and hopped along, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“What is your name, elf?” He asked, flipping his long, flowy locks out of his face as he walked uphill, barefoot.

“I’m Ch…” I hesitated, catching myself at the last second. I had no idea what not following the script would do. Would a system pop up, yelling at me that I was out of character and throwing punishments around? I probably shouldn’t risk it.

“I’m Ethan.” I finally said, cringing at the generic name so unfit for an elf.

“Had to think about it, did you?” Caelian raised a brow, levelling me with a penetrating stare.

“It’s just. I’m embarrassed about it. It’s so human-sounding.” I made up some bullshit to cover my tracks. Considering he didn’t press the issue, I assumed it worked.

We walked a little further until the sun finally toppled over the horizon. In the evening darkness, I could feel him behind me, keeping his distance but still unquestioningly there. Suddenly, my keen-elven eyes (thank you, Tolkien, for the feature) saw movement from the bushes to our left. I raised a fist on instinct, a gesture for Caelian to stop. With the other hand, I pulled out my bow and notched an arrow, expecting company.

Two shadow wolves, because I honestly had no other way to describe giant direwolves clad in shadows, jumped out before me, teeth bared and claws shining in non-existent moonlight. I dodged and swerved, expertly rolling away from their blows as I released volley upon volley of arrows, each meeting its mark but not really doing much damage. I finally hit one in the eye, and it toppled to the ground, dead. Knowing their weak spot, I dispatched the other one with ease as well.

As I was turning back to Caelian, a little smug about my awesome skill, one shadow wolf literally clipped through the textures like it was a buggy video game right below me. I dodged, but not fast enough to avoid one of its claws scratching my neck slightly. Doing a dope backflip, I notched another arrow and killed it where it popped out from, landing elegantly in a superhero pose.

As I rose, satisfied with myself, however, Caelian was at my side, hand reaching to my neck.

“You are hurt!”

“Just a scratch, really. Did you freaking see that? Wolf just popped out of nowhere!”
“Who did this to you!?”

I froze, looking at Caelian with confusion.

“Erm… the wolf. You were literally there.”

The dragon’s eyes glowed in the dark as the air around us was sucked away as if in a vacuum. He leaned over, hot breath skidding along my neckline as his tongue licked the blood clean off my wound.

I am a pretty chill dude. A little skinship is fine by me, especially in a life-or-death situation such as this. But why the hell did the night air take on a pink hue, the fucking music from back in the cave came back, and time felt like it slowed to an artistic slow-mo?! Also, why the hell was this dude licking my blood!

I pushed him off me, clutching at my neck, belatedly realising that the cut was gone. Apparently dragons had healing saliva. Handy. If I just considered this like Sparkie licking my hands when he was excited, it wasn’t so bad. The problem was, Caelian was breathing heavily, all glistening with sweat, eyes hooded, staring at me.

I had a sinking feeling I might have misunderstood the genre of this novel, and now I was well and truly screwed.

I opened my eyes to a fairy-tale scene, straight out of The Lord of the Rings. The sunlight was dappling through the green leaves right onto the clearing in the woods, where I was lying. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, studying the circle of huge red caps surrounding my bed of grass. I was wearing some sort of green coloured leather outfit, skin-tight but comfortable, that shifted and moved like a scuba diving suit when I stood up, studying my surroundings.

I whistled as I took it all in. Dorothy wasn’t in Kansas anymore. I tentatively called for Sparkie, but already knew that he wouldn’t be here. I, as a matter of fact, transmigrated to wherever this was. I found my cloak, folded under my head to be used as a pillow, and clasped it onto my shoulders. As I raised the hood, my hands touched something protruding from the sides of my head, and I flinched violently at the sensation. I probed the very obvious elf ears attached to my head and concluded that I did indeed somehow end up in a high fantasy tale.

I was ecstatic. I had read many books about writers ending up in their own stories, and if that indeed was the case here, I would probably scream for joy. I loved my setting so much that I spent years developing the magic system, the politics, the epic wars and ethereal realms before I even began to formulate the main plot. If I ended up as an elf ranger, sometime before the Grand Divide… Oh, boy would it be fun!

I found my satchel behind a tree to the side of the clearing. I rummaged through it to ascertain any information about this character I was wearing. Food, water, dagger, extra arrows. All standard kit. And a serious-looking letter with an official seal. Bingo.

I tore it open and froze. The entire thing was covered in script, but I couldn’t make out a single word. I turned it upside down, just in case I was really stupid, but no. Well, maybe it was in Elvish, which Charlie, rather than whoever this ranger was, did not speak. All of a sudden, a bunch of thoughts made their way neatly into my head, as if they’d been planted there. My name was Ethan Thornwood, a lieutenant of the Elven Rangers Squadron camped out in the West Mountains, sent here to investigate the magical blight spreading across the continent. The suspected source was the Black Dragon of the North, a notorious beast of legend that haunted the Midland Woods for centuries. 

I sat back, a little disappointed that I didn’t end up in my own story, but stoked nonetheless about the prospect of a dragon. Motivated to move the plot along, I packed up and headed out into the forest.

Apparently, Ethan, odd name for an elf but whatever, was a very good tracker. I barely had to do anything and already found some suspiciously huge reptilian footprints in the mud, a few hours old, my helpful brain told me. I walked for an hour or so, enjoying the fresh air, when I came upon a huge cave, pale light glimmering from inside. I slowed my steps and carefully ventured inside.

At the bottom of the cave, huge puffs of breath rattling the stalagmites around its form, was a magnificent ancient dragon. The scales were black as night, an oily sheen shifting with every large breath. I stared in awe as this enormous beast slept peacefully under a sinister-looking magic sigil floating in the air, extending transparent red chains down to different parts of its body.

Fantastic. An ancient mythical dragon, a mysterious blight and an evil seal. So far so good. I stared at the hypnotic rotating pattern on the seal to try to force the brain of this ‘Ethan’ to remember any information about it, but came up short in the end. It was a long shot anyway. I timed my steps with the dragon’s breaths and slowly crept up to examine it more closely.

I must have been relying on the ranger mechanics too much, but I happened to step on the crunchiest twig in existence, somehow finding its way into this deep subterranean cavern. The dragon’s huge golden eyes opened, and it stared right at me. I froze.

It raised its enormous head and sniffed the air. As it moved, the chains grew taut, and I saw it flinch in pain. That didn’t stop it from rising to its full height, the walls of the cavern shaking, causing me to dodge the falling debris.

“WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLUMBER!” the dragon rumbled through the air, almost knocking me off my feet. I raised my hands in supplication and looked directly into its golden eyes.

“I mean no offence, oh ancient one!” Always good to start with a platitude. Manners maketh man. “I am but a humble ranger travelling through these woods.”

The dragon did not move. I chanced a look at the clearly evil seal, now fully sparkling with red and black energy, restricting the dragon’s movements.

“I am but an insignificant mortal.” Wait, was that technically true? Fuck it, no time to think. Just glaze. “If I may be of some assistance to you, great one, it would be an eternal honour to my family.”

Honestly, I had no idea where I was going with that, but the common dragon lore stated they were proud and noble creatures that hoarded gold, treasures and an occasional virgin, depending on the type of story told. Appealing to its vanity was a safe bet.

The dragon levelled me with a penetrating stare and spoke.

“You are the blood of elves,” he stated. I twitched my ears, which apparently was a cool feature that came with being an elf, to highlight the obvious statement. “Your people and mine had an accord centuries ago, before humans came to this continent. If you release me from this binding, I vow to uphold that accord and grant you a boon.”

I hesitated for a second, remembering that maybe this particular dragon was the villain after all. But it didn’t make sense that the Black Dragon of the North was causing the blight while itself being imprisoned by some obviously dark magic. Maybe the magic was the issue all along. Whatever.

“I shall try,” I answered as I came to inspect the seal more closely. The enormous beast sat still, letting me walk all the way around it, checking out the chains. If I was honest with myself, I had no damn clue as to what was going on or how to fix it. On a whim, I reached out and touched one of the transparent, red, vibrating lines. My hand stung, like it was bitten by a wasp, and a bead of blood bloomed on my finger. To my surprise, the ruby liquid floated up to the seal, and it evaporated, like it was never there.

The dragon did a whole-body shudder and began to spread its wings. I backed away into a corner to escape the deadly blocks of rock tumbling down, a little pissed off at this thing’s inattention to my well-being. The dragon stretched, catlike, and began to shrink. I stared through the settling dust as it rose from the ground and gasped.

It took the shape of a tall, broad-shouldered man. Long black hair tumbling down his back, black horns curling from his forehead, a loincloth on his waist and nothing else. I had to blink a few times to believe it, but the dragon now had a ten-pack, which was two packs too many in the best-case scenario. As the man turned around, the blazing yellow eyes caught mine as he smiled.

“You have freed me, elf”

The voice was deep and raspy, tingling through my body. Objectively speaking, the human form of this dragon was drop-dead gorgeous. Maybe too much so. I nodded stupidly.

“My name is Caelian,” he said as he began walking towards me. “You have released me from a binding spell that plagued me for centuries. And now, I shall uphold the ancient covenant between our people.”

He reached me and placed his huge palm on my chest. A differently coloured sigil bloomed between us as I felt a warmth spreading through my limbs. I looked up at the dragon and smiled. Having an ancient mythical beast on your side was always a bonus in stories such as this. And all I had to do was bleed a little.

“I am now yours, body and soul.”

Fucking excuse me?

Hello. I am Charles Branaghan, but everyone calls me Charlie. I am a webnovel writer of little renown, preferring the genre of high fantasy adventure with a sprinkle of romance. My interests are reading an unhealthy amount of literature, walking my golden Sparkie, and drinking rum on a rainy evening alone in my room. I have been at this game for the last six years, and all I have to show for it is a list of stories that never broke through the thousand-view mark, and a handful of comments, all from bots trying to swindle me into a Discord-based art scam. My family keeps telling me to get a real job, rather than the variety of odd shit I do to stay alive and pay my rent in this four-person house share. My housemates are objectively nice people, but we don’t talk. I wanted to follow my passion for writing, so once I graduated high school, I moved to California, wide-eyed and stupid in retrospect.

Apart from the webnovels, I have been writing my magnum opus that has been in the making since I was fourteen. It is a world-spanning fantasy epic in the vein of George R.R. Martin and Brandon Sanderson, or so I would love to hear from the agent that eventually picks it up. It’s been over a year of querying, but I refuse to give up! I know publishing is hard and the market is oversaturated, but it has always been my dream. I have nothing else to live for, otherwise.

The webnovels are practice. I thought that writing chapter by chapter, getting reader input, and observing the statistics would improve my writing and earn a bit of money on the side. Boy, was I wrong. Not only was it impossible to write anything original and unique that would outcompete the trope-fest that was the ranking board, but the absurd volume of AI-generated slop populating every corner of the internet made writing a successful serial as easy as climbing to the top of a waterfall, as it was pummeling you into the abyss.

I apologise for the dramatics, but when your livelihood is on the line, the mental breakdown is included in the bundle.

One day, scrolling through my YouTube Shorts reel, I stumbled upon a gorgeous fantasy backdrop with dragons, elves, amazing music, the whole shebang. I frantically jumped into the comments to see what TV show I had woefully missed out on, only to find out it was one of those AI short dramas.

My blood ran cold. It had over three million views. In comparison, the human-acted short dramas in the same category barely reached a hundred thousand. What was the world coming to!? What was so attractive about the generic uncanny valley slop that not only overwhelmed the written webnovel spaces, but now spilt out into TV series?!

Out of morbid curiosity, I downloaded one of those free short drama apps and navigated to the AI section. There was everything from CEO drama to mafia romance to werewolves to BL. Having a soft spot for masterpiece works of  Freya Marske, K. J. Charles and Johanna Chambers, I had to see what this abomination was going to look like.

Five minutes later, I launched my phone onto my bed (I wasn’t going to break it; I was dirt poor) and went to the bathroom in search of bleach for my eyes. It was… frankly horrifying. The pacing, the weird expressions, the voice changes, the clothes making no sense, the plot, the inane dialogue. I remember when I was young, I saw my mother watching a Brazilian soap opera. At the time, I thought: How braindead do you have to be to watch this and think it unironically entertaining? I now see how, in comparison, that was a masterpiece of television. I should call my mom and apologise for being a snob.

Later that evening, as I was watching Sparkie go mental over a tennis ball in the dog park, heedless of the rain, the morbid curiosity struck again. Maybe I just stumbled on a particularly bad one? Maybe there was something salvageable out of all that slop? Millions of people seemed to like it, so what was it about these dramas that called out to them?
I opened the app again and scrolled through some filters. I wanted to find that scenery, with the majestic dragon and beautiful castle on the hill I saw previously. But in all the hundreds of comments, not a single person was kind enough to drop the title. So I trudged along, scrolling down the sea of generically overdone covers, looking for something that wouldn’t make me want to gouge my eyes out, Oedipus-style.

I missed it! I quickly scrolled back up, past the half-naked couples in various embraces, to that glimpse of green and blue that flashed before my eyes for a split second. In retrospect, it was stupid of me to do this, sitting under a tree to hide from the light rain during a thunderstorm. Just as I was about to tap on “The Lands of Avaria”, a lightning bolt shot out of the sky and landed straight on my phone screen, ignoring the huge tree behind me. Everything went dark, and my eternal torture began.

I lay on pitch-black satin sheets, hands cuffed to the heavy four-poster bed with a frankly ridiculous amount of chains. My lower body was bare, nakedness barely covered by a fur-trimmed duvet. My pristine white chest was on display, white cotton shirt open all the way to my navel, revealing a slender waist and a hint of abs. Overall, not an unpleasant experience, if not for the screeching harpy clutching a dagger over my neck.

“How dare a lowly war slave seduce your way into the King’s bed!” she howled, dainty features distorted unnaturally, eyes bulging and red. Pretty as a picture, yet absolutely crazy.

“You, a lowly fallen prince of the Elaria kingdom, cannot be with the supreme King Aiden! I am his lawful fiancée, and he will marry me! Now die!”

“Ma’am,” I began, too tired to bother struggling. “I suggest you stop this and just go home.”

She froze for a second, invisible gears turning in that empty head, formulating the next idiotic reply.

“Do you think anyone would come and save you? King Aiden is away on military patrol and won’t be back until sunrise. I have plenty of time to take my time and kill you!”

“Fuck, lady! Will you listen to me!” I was getting pissed off at this point. “I know how this goes! Exactly at the point when you swing the dagger to stab me, he will magically appear at the door, ignore your bullshit excuses and order you to be dragged away.”

She was unnaturally still, hand raised in mid-stab, eyes fixed on me. I reckoned I had at least thirty more seconds before it registered.

“Honestly, I feel for you. Your dick of a fiancée strung you along for years and then tossed you aside for a boy toy. You are rightfully pissed. But killing me is not the way to go about it. How about you strip his political power in court? Sabotage his reputation, painting yourself as a wronged victim? Have him deposed and take the throne yourself? You go, girl; you don’t need a man!”

Whatever was processing its way through her head had finished buffering as she leaned back and laughed.

“Trying to buy yourself time? It won’t work.”

“I figured it wouldn’t,” I mumbled under my breath and flopped back on the sheets. “Don’t blame me for not warning you. But who am I kidding? Of course you will.”

The dagger flashed in a beam of moonlight, somehow appearing in this pitch-dark room with shuttered windows, and plunged down towards my chest. At that exact moment, the door to the bedroom exploded. I’m not exaggerating. It literally exploded, not fell off its hinges or swung open. I even got some splinters stuck in my hair.

On the other end stood King Aiden. Tall, dark, handsome, chiselled jaw, the whole nine yards. Looking eighty per cent like Henry Cavill, but they all did. He marched towards the woman, who crumpled in fear and began to grovel.

“My King! This slut tried to seduce me to obtain state secrets to pass on to his supporters and overthrow you! Please, I beg you, my lord! You must kill him!”

He leaned down towards her, his hand reaching to grip her jaw. After a needlessly long moment, he growled.

“You dare touch what’s mine.”

I sighed, ears bleeding from cringe. I thought at that point I would be immune to such unadulterated, pure, hundred per cent Colombian cringe, but alas, I still had some dignity.

“Take her away.” King Cavill growled louder as guards materialised out of thin air. Exactly two of them. They grabbed the woman by each arm and dragged her out, kicking and screaming through the magically restored doors as they shut behind them and locked all on their own.

King Aiden stood up slowly, eyes glaring at little old me, chained and helpless on that massive bed. His hand slowly came up and glided across my torso as he asked menacingly

“Where did she touch you?”

I pulled an arm out of the bundle of chains above me that weren’t actually attached to anything significant to prevent my movement, and picked splinters out of my hair.

“She didn’t have the time. You showed up before I even got to finish a sentence.”

His intent gaze was so glued to me that he completely didn’t see the fact that I was not restrained at all, as I slipped my wrist back into the nest of chains. Whether I had my hands free or not had no meaning here; I might as well play along.

“Do not lie to me, Julian,” he whispered as the lighting changed abruptly in the room to a hazy purple glow and slow drum beat music played out of fucking nowhere. His hands were liberally stroking my sides, making me feel ticklish. I was biting my lip, trying not to cackle. He smiled up at me sensually, thinking I was getting into it.

“Only I get to touch you. You are mine.”

“Dude, we established that.” I couldn’t stop myself from sighing as I looked up at the dark canopy. Any second now, the tell-tale freeze-frame would hit along with those goddamn sparkles, indicating that the episode was over. I’d wake up in a completely different location, possibly unrelated to this plotline, and this bullshit would start all over again. The never-ending river of slop.

Hey. You must be wondering how I got here. Where is here, you might ask? Oh, just the never-ending tsunami of BL AI slop short drama reels, of course. My personal Hell.