I fail to understand why the king requests me, yet I am left with no choice but to comply.

  My wings, my only supporters within this prison, have grown vigorous in their efforts of carrying me. Such is the answer my body conveys when it’s rewarded with the greatest of gifts. I let out an exhale, more out of sorrow than relief. Around me the Jila still spreads. I sense the storms descending into an even greater turmoil after hearing the mighty king’s words. Clouds churn apprehensively, and I can sense their intent of feasting on me flourish, while the arrows of light grow in number, darting with increased potency. I swallow and search my surroundings, the corners of my eyes catching glimpses of the chaotic red erupting. Even the dark clouds seem to want to evade the red ones that are encircling me. It seems I have been saved, yet my quest lies incomplete. The same story continues, the same outcome remains. Nothing I do, nothing I possess, nothing I attempt bears any success. A fitting resolution for a Duality such as myself. The Tribunal made me as such, left me to be named Error, and handed me no reason as to why.

  I turn my back on the Jila, soaring on the path I’ve carved for myself. Somehow my travels have affected this prison: my journey thus far can be easily traced by the Materium’s warm darkness that cuts through the chaos nearby. A line splits this prison, a line formed by my disdainful body, a line that tells me where I must head to escape. Nothing new, for my travels so far have left the same marks upon the Jila. My kin pondered on why this occurs, and the only logical conclusion they emerged with is that my nature is shunned upon even by disaster. A fair explanation. The Jila may desire me, yet the properties that make me have no intention of letting me die.

  Everything within me has been filled with purpose. My tail is now relaxed, dancing calmly with each new flap, my back can finally bend without threatening to break, my neck celebrates and wants to twist and examine what holds me captive still. My eyes, however, still won’t budge. What answers can I deliver to the mighty council? What hope lies in whispering to my kin that their salvation has not yet been found? What can I expect for myself after I utter words of failure and anguish? I can already see the disappointment in the glorious eyes of my king.

  Emerging from destruction leads me to cast one last glance behind. The Jila is now at a safe distance, its hunger unsatisfied, its thirst unquenched, its urge undeterred. At least I am not a victim to it anymore. The Phlaka, my kin’s layer within the Materium, is relieved to glance upon me. I can see the stars glinting throughout infinity, I can feel their pulses, their breaths and their efforts in fulfilling their missions. Yet I can also feel their dread, knowing that this curse is spreading and nothing is capable of withstanding it. I cast aside those thoughts and tilt myself towards the path leading to Aslakahm. By now, the council should expect me and already be converging.

  Out of the serene shadows watching me, an eruption of colors casts away the lonely dark. Held by the discreet hands of the Materium, the kingdom of Aslakahm knows no rival in terms of glory. As I approach, my eyes shove aside the burden pressing upon them and widen. Aslakahm is at rest, its brilliance not lost despite the events unfolding, its colors not pale despite what encloses upon it. The three layers of waves lift one another, each one yielding a purpose. The wave of hues ensnares a dragon’s eyes in an instant, the wave of light is the master each star looks up to, the wave of clouds fends off against the Materium, while also stroking her palms; discreet limbs that hold the kingdom. The four Bridges of Life connect Aslakahm to the infinite bounds near it, while also aiding the dragons in their descent and subsequent permission within the kingdom. Egg-like nests greet me in the distance, spread amidst the kingdom on raised platforms, while the Throne of Infinity forces my snout to open in awe. The magnitude of the king’s residence makes galaxies cower before it, blinds black holes with its golden rays, and strains Materium’s limbs to the point of needing help from the Tribunal itself to hold it. A fitting place for our creators, a fitting place for a king to rule from. Infinity is outmatched by the size of the kingdom, a sight that reminds me that no curse can touch the Starmakers’ house, that no death can soar amidst the nests of my kin. Magnificence dwells in Aslakahm, without a hint of doubt.

  As I enclose, a storm of wings approaches me. Four guardians, each one adorned with a Spear of Light, approach with alertness. If a dragon claims to serve the Tribunal, such a view he must not oppose.

  I land on the Bridge and bow my head, waiting for the guardians to descend in a tempest. “You’ve been expected, Error. How come you have the boldness of making our council wait?” one of the guardians asks, thumping the Bridge with his Spear.

  “I offer apologies for my delay, brethren,” I reply, my head maintained low.

  “Do not call us that.”

  “I… understand.”

  Two guardians stand aside, Spears at the ready, while the two behind them gesture for me. “Follow us, Error. Try not to lose track of the path we shall travel on.”

  I let my eyes drop, yet I nod and do as instructed. The Throne rests well inside the kingdom, granting me the opportunity of absorbing more of the kingdom’s beauty. Brethren emerge from their nests, and as soon as they see who has arrived, their expressions shift. Sneers and scowls are hurled my way, yet they don’t possess anywhere near the same power as they used to. Some of my brethren outright wave me away or turn their backs as I soar, and those reactions bear a little more damage than I would like to admit. I let out a slight smile, but I can’t lie to myself and say those greetings aren’t painful to regard. In the end, I deserve them. My nature is a humiliation brought upon the glory that housed me. And knowing who I’m about to stand before, such things cannot make me upset.

  A claw emerges to warn me to halt. “Your arrival must be announced, Error,” says one of the guardians and then they depart in a haste. I am expected, and yet the council needs to accept the idea of my limbs strolling amidst the Throne. An idea that eternity has taught me could never be fully accepted, for I am a flaw.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I spot the guardian’s heads lifting and directing me to continue my ascent. I pass them by and I am met with crinkled snouts, before they withdraw in dismissal. Before me stands the king on his seat, the council not yet present. Spreading my wings, I bow and hum, the beauty of my king a sight that requires such a reaction.

  “Why do you make me wait, Error?” King Alghamior asks, his voice nudging me to frown. Since when has his mighty tone descended into such harshness?

  “That was never my intention, my great king,” I stumble with my answer. “Your words are my law, your directions my guide. I came as soon as the Jila allowed me to emerge from its mouth.”

  “The Jila,” the king says with a snort. “That prison surely is more pleasant than what I have to endure from my Throne.”

  “My king?”

  “This curse is taking captive everything, Error. See for yourself how the Materium asks me to give it a solution, how it pleads with my knowledge to fabricate an answer to this disease, and how disappointed it becomes when I give it nothing to soothe the pain,” King Alghamior says then drops his head.

  As instructed, I gaze at the vastness of the Materium, stars glinting in greeting. At least those that still cling to the essence left within them, for I notice decayed stars, sections of them severed and lost within the Materium, their light lost. Other stars are in the process of joining them, sending forth explosions of light. “My king… I cannot bear such a sight.”

  “Then I hope you’ve been able to complete your mission.”

  I feel my essence flee from my body as I turn toward him. “My king… my quest is incomplete.”

  Six eyes latch onto me, the two main, wider ones forcing the four tiny ones beneath to squint, despite their inability to do so. “Error, Jila is unable to affect you, and yet you fail in the only task suitable for one such as yourself?” he demands.

  “My king… I tried,” I reply, then I lift my wings. “The prison spreads further than eternity and no traces have indicated to me that the Tribunal could’ve passed through it in their disappearance. I… don’t believe they left through the Jila.”

  “Your mission wasn’t to question my plans, Error. Your mission was to do as instructed and to be successful.” He suddenly advances, but falls on one side. “Tribunal!” he shouts as he tries to stabilize himself.

  I dash for him. “My king, I can h-”

  “I don’t need your worries, Error,” he cries and I halt. “Usefulness is the response I seek. Salvation is the answer I should’ve received. Your worries only humiliate me further than the fact that I have allowed you to disturb me on my Throne.”

  King Alghamior shifts, one of his limbs hidden, not fully touching the surface below. His face strains from the pressure.

  “My king, are you in physical pain? Shall I seek the council and ask them to come?” I ask, my eyes widening at the sight before.

  “No. My well-being is not your concern,” he replies then returns to his seat, a limp evident with each new step. “What am I to do with you, Error? You were given such a simple task for you alone can carry it, and yet…” he trails off.

  I allow my head to drop. “I can return, great king. The Jila ought to have some answers. Probably.” Memories return to me, dragging my mind worse than black holes do to everything that surrounds them. Returning to that prison is the last action I want to take in my entire eternity.

  “No,” the king replies flatly. “A different task awaits you.”

  I perk up.

  “You need to discover what lies within you. Your Duality needs a purpose. Start seeking that purpose.”

  “Great king, nothing has been given to my kind. We are Errors.”

  “That is not the answer I seek and clearly not the answer you should bring to me. My instructions are clear.” He spins, one claw raised. “A nest awaits you. I have been able to procure one on your behalf. Don’t make me regret such a matter.”

  “What use can I make of a nest? You know I’ve tried to uncover the mystery of my nature. Such is the way I’ve come to live alongside failure,” I say, then I give a faint smile.

  My body relays to me a different response, however. I feel the king’s words surging through my Duality, coursing through both my hues and darkness, urging me to listen and obey. May there be a different outcome now?

  “It will be your temporary residence. Until you fulfill what I need from you.” King Alghamior tilts his head. “That Mark lives on you for a reason. That inscription on your head has always bested me with its meaning.”

  I sigh uncomfortably, the aspects mentioned stirring my limbs. Oh, Tribunal. You’ve brought such a terrifying curse upon us, that my own king now believes the inaccuracies that make me are somehow important. The Mark embedded on my back and the inscription carved on my head are a further confirmation of why I’m named Error, not some tools capable of doing whatever the king is trying to point out. An eternity of attempts has delivered no success, why shall my kin waste another eternity playing games of guess? What other options am I given, besides returning to such painful memories?

  “I understand, my great king,” I reply resignedly. “I will try to complete this task you’ve bestowed upon me.”

  King Alghamior regards me, a silence creeping into our discussion. “Hmph,” he finally says. “Lend your undivided attention to this matter, Error. Eternity hasn’t allowed me to study your kin, mostly out of the significance of my tasks, but also due to how many of your brethren have abandoned Aslakahm. Now I see the unwisdom that plagued me before. Now I glimpse your potential.” He ascended in a slither, showcasing his utter glory and spreading his six wings for my eyes to be gripped by wonder. “Depart,” he bellowed. “I won’t waste my words on how failure isn’t an outcome out of this. Victory must be yours. Existence needs you to achieve it.”

  His eyes pierce me faster than the Spears of Light can ever hope to. I bow my entire body in reverence, a wave of desire flooding me and whispering I am to be wise.

  If I’ve been given powers, I must discover them. My king trusts me and I cannot reward him with more grief.