Originally posted on FA on Sep 15th, 2016 06:16 PM

An old story about a very large dragon.

---

I stood at the window and watched the human race come to an end.

Well, not completely. Some had escaped, or, like myself, been "rescued." But the vast majority of humans were still on the planet down below, at the mercy of the Dragon.

It had first been seen a few months ago; sensors had picked up a new body entering our solar system. The initial fear had been a rogue planet -- a wandering heavenly body that could throw Earth's orbit off-kilter as it passed, disrupting growing seasons and potentially ending human life. But then powerful telescopes had been brought to bear, and the visitor to our small corner of the galaxy had been revealed to be something entirely different.

The creature was enormous -- larger than the entire Earth, and then some. Humankind was quick to name it; it seemed like something out of a fairy tale. Rainbow scales reflected the sun's light, even at that great distance. The Dragon's long, sinuous body snaked through space as though it were water, causing scientists to question what kind of propulsion it used. It was huge, it was mysterious, and it was beautiful.

At first, mankind had rejoiced; we had been searching for signs of life in the universe for centuries, after all, and now here it was, right in our own neighborhood. It was finally confirmed: we were not alone.

And then we saw what it did to Pluto. And we realized that the Dragon was heading straight for us, at a remarkable speed.

The world quickly degenerated into chaos. Some took to looting, trying to get whatever small comforts they could before the world came to an end. Others tried worshiping the Dragon, hoping that maybe it was some great, angry god, calling for their repentance. And, though I had not known it at the time, others had started looking for an escape.

My mother barricaded us in our house. Father had always insisted on keeping a year's supply of emergency food and other necessities, and it certainly paid off now. My mother and I locked ourselves away from the world, to keep safe from the looters and ride this thing out as best we could.

We knew that the end was coming. We had seen the news just like everyone else. But rather than bemoan the future, my mother spent her time talking about the past. She told me stories -- stories about how she had met my father, about how much they had loved each other. Stories about me, about when I was born, about raising me. At first, I wondered why any of this was important when the end was so close at hand. But then I came to understand: though my sixteen years seemed far too short, they had been full of life and love. She wanted me to know that my life had meaning.

Our time alone in the house ended a few days ago. Men wearing armor and carrying guns kicked down the door. Without explanation, they had searched through the house and taken whatever supplies they wanted -- and then they took me. A young girl like myself stood no chance of resisting these armed men. My mother had tried to follow, only to be kicked away and told she was "too old."

I had seen it while the men dragged me away -- after all, all I had to do was look up. The Dragon loomed huge in the sky, almost close enough to reach out and touch.

And then I had been taken here.

An experimental starship, they said. Capable of transporting the remnants of the human race to a new home. They barely had time to get it working before grabbing what supplies and people they could and readying for launch. It would be a long trip to the nearest habitable planet; I wouldn't see it, but my grandchildren might. It was risky, but it was the only chance the human race had. That was what they told me.

It seemed of little importance now, as I pressed against the glass with the other passengers, watching. The Dragon had reached its destination. It hovered before the Earth, a massive beast of shining light and glittering scales, so large that my mind had trouble comprehending it. In spite of everything, I still thought it was beautiful.

Even as it swallowed the Earth.

Its jaw opened wide and wrapped around the planet like a snake devouring an egg. Mountain-sized fangs dug into the mantle. I could almost hear the crunch of the planet being crushed, though of course no sound reached out here. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like for those still on the Earth; the stars winking out in an instant, earthquakes ravaging the landscape, entire cities crushed in an instant under a continent-sized tongue.

And what of those who were not instantly killed by teeth and tongue? Those crushed by the Dragon's mouth, those pressed up against the walls of the gullet, would surely have their lives snuffed out in an instant. But what about those at the other ends of the planet? Would some of Earth's atmosphere be swallowed up with it? Some might survive, for a little while at least, as the planet was slowly digested in the gut of this great beast.

Which group would my mother belong to?

"So that's it, then."

The voice came from a few feet behind me, from a tall, gruff man with a stubbly beard. His eyes had dark circles beneath them. He stood a distance away from the window, and spoke with his companion, a short man, in whispers. I had to strain my ears to hear.

"It would seem so, captain."

"All that's left of mankind is on this vessel."

"Yes, captain."

"You have that roster for me?"

"Yes, sir."

A few moments of silence, and then, "Captain, sir, I couldn't help but notice..."

"Yes?"

"I couldn't help but notice that most of the rescues were women. Young women, to be exact."

Another pause. "Our crew has been entrusted with the preservation of humanity. Ensuring the survival of the human race is our top priority. That requires breeders."

"Sir..."

"Some of our previous conventions will have to be abandoned. Things like fidelity and consent will only impede our mission -- laws of nations that no longer exist."

"I see, sir." The voice sounded deflated.

I turned back to the window. They were so concerned with preserving humanity, but it seemed it may have already died. Rather than think about what my near future was likely to contain, I turned my attention back to the Earth.

The Dragon had finished its meal. Its stomach bulged outward, ruining the sinuous symmetry of its form. It had happened so fast. Our entire world -- gone in the blink of an eye. A meal for a creature we barely even registered to.

Or did we?

The Dragon had turned its head. It seemed to be looking straight at our ship.

People screamed and recoiled away from the window. Murmurs filled the crowd. My heart skipped a beat. Was this it? Was the human race about to be snuffed out for good?

And then I felt the pull.

It felt like the way the ocean feels when a wave withdraws around your feet. An inexorable force, impossible to fight, tugging me towards the window.

I glanced around. No one else in the crowd reacted, beyond continuing to chatter about what the Dragon might do now.

The pull came again, and this time it was accompanied by a voice. It sounded like someone calling from beneath a deep ocean, their words muffled by the waves.

"Can anyone else hear that?" I wondered out loud.

Several members of the crowd around me stopped their chatter. "Hear what?"

The pull was even stronger the third time. ...lo? Can anyone hear me?

The voice came from inside my own head, rather than through my ears, but I knew I hadn't imagined it.

"Yes," I said. "I can hear you."

Oh, good! I was worried that there would be no one left who resonates. The voice was soft and delicate, and careful, like a person speaking gently to a baby to avoid hurting its ears. It was accompanied by the pull, but this time I was ready and had braced myself against it.

"Resonates?" I asked.

On the same wavelength as me. Otherwise, we couldn't communicate.

A woman standing next to me put a hand on my shoulder. "Young lady, who are you talking to?"

I didn't have any doubt about who the voice belonged to. I looked out the window towards the Dragon, putting my hand on the glass. "Why do you want to speak to me?"

I want to say I'm sorry.

The thought was so ridiculous that I couldn't help by let out a short laugh. "You're sorry!?"

Hm, yes, that doesn't quite seem to cut it, does it? But I truly am. I didn't know your world was inhabited.

"You didn't know!?" I dropped to my knees -- both from the thoughts of the destruction of my home, and from the power of the voice, which made my legs feel weak. "My... my mother..."

The voice was filled with sorrow this time. I am so sorry, little one. Life is required, of course, but I usually try to avoid eating worlds with intelligent life. It was my mistake. I didn't mean to bring you so much pain.

I could feel the sincerity in the voice.

The crowd around me had gone silent, forming a semicircle to watch me. Deep footsteps approached me from behind. I recognized the voice of the captain.

"Little girl, are you speaking to the Dragon?"

I bit my lip.

However, I believe there is a way I can make it right again. A way to give your kind new life. But... it would involve destroying your vessel.

"Destroying it? We would all die!"

Another murmur through the crowd. The captain put a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Girl, tell the monster to stop! We won't hurt it if it will just leave us be!"

It depends on your definition of dying. You would be given new life, but it would be at the expense of the life you have now. It is your decision. But you must make it quickly, before the Memory fades.

I thought about what the dragon was saying. I didn't know if I could trust it -- but I also knew there was no guarantee that this ship would ever bear us somewhere safe. It was as likely to be our tomb as our salvation. And then I looked up at the captain, glaring down at me with his hard eyes, thinking about his words.

I turned my gaze back out the window. "Do it."

The dragon opened its mouth and moved forward. The massive palate blotted out the stars, turning the view out the window to nothing but teeth, tongue, and the immense, darker-than-black void that lay beyond.

The gateway to eternity had opened.

People screamed. The captain took a reflexive step back from the window.

The jaws shut around their ship, and everything went dark.

---

I was somewhere dark and warm.

To my own surprise, I was not afraid. Wherever I was, I felt safe, safer than I had ever felt before.

And there was something else. I was still myself, but I had somehow become more.

In the back of my head, I could feel that I was not alone. I could hear the voices -- the voices of everyone who had come before. Everyone. I heard my mother's voice, filled with love. I heard the captain of the ship, full of anger and fear. The collective memory of our entire race, the good and the bad, had all become part of me.

Yet, though I heard thousands, millions of voices, they did not overwhelm me. They were part of me. My own voice was still there, clear as day.

Ready to take the helm.

I tried to stretch and found I couldn't. This place might be safe, but it was also cramped. I pushed out with one hand, pressing against the wall.

It started to crack.

---

The celestial dragon sleeps, warmed by the light of the nearby star, when she feels the first signs of movement. She wakes immediately, turning to look at a small, moon-sized object floating next to her. Its thick outer crust, worn by stardust and pocked by the occasional meteor, has begun to crack. Its liquid-rock core starts to flow out, and the dragon catches sight of a tiny claw.

She watches as the shell of the egg breaks further, and a small head emerges, blinking its eyes and shaking the molten yolk from brilliant rainbow scales. The infant looks up at her mother and releases a psychic chirrup as she tries to speak.

The mother laughs, moving her large claws with great care as she helps remove bits of shell still clinging to the newborn's body. She brings her head down, touching her forehead to her daughter's.

Hello, little one. Welcome to the universe.