Awen Rising, E2: Chapter Four - Five

Water Dragon & Underworld Encounter

Jun 02, 2025

Welcome to the serial urban fantasy adventure, Awen Rising.

If you’re looking for Chapters 1 - 3, click here.

Once we’re a few chapters in, I will build a Table of Contents plus add links to the beginning and end of each post to help you navigate the story.

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Chapter 4 - Water Dragon

At the end of Venice Pier, a dragon lurked in the deep water, tail anchored in the pylons. Draig Ooschu’s eyes broke the restless surface, intent on the humans in bright-colored raiment. They paddled sturdy boards from the rocky shore to battle the waves to the calm beyond.

Not one of the humans noticed Ooschu, whose scales and saucer-eyes reflected the ocean’s hues. She was invisible to all but the most discerning eye, and even its owner wouldn’t remember having seen her.

Like all dragons, Ooschu carried a built-in forgetfulness curse. Any species who gazed upon her forgot right away. All but Awen, the dragon master. Now it seemed the Awen had fallen prey to the memory veil.

Ooschu had no idea how long she herself had slumbered. Or what magic had lulled her to sleep. But she did remember that she answered to the Awen.

She also remembered the last Earth War between the humans and reptilians. It was after that when the reptilians were confined to UnderEarth and the humans up above. The dragons were tasked with keeping the two enemies apart. The memory veil was instituted at that time to ensure the opponents would forget one another.

Ten thousand years it had taken for the dragons to find and seal all the portals between Above and UnderEarth. Most of them went into hibernation after that. All except Ooschu and a handful of Keepers assigned to watch the borders.

As a water dragon, Ooschu’s duty was to guard the sea portals. There were three other Keepers—an earth dragon, an air dragon, and a fire dragon. But as time went on, even the Keepers had succumbed to sleep.

After waking several years ago, Ooschu had crisscrossed the seas searching for the Awen and the other Keepers. She found Draig Talav asleep in a cave and managed to rouse the earth dragon. Together, they located Draigs a-Ur and Tienu. But something was wrong with the air and fire dragon. Both were transfixed; neither could they stir.

With naught but a certainty that another War was imminent, the two Dragon Keepers had pursued Awen ever since. Now time was running out. But Ooschu was about to make contact.

She poked her head above the waves to scan the shoreline and spied a blaze of gold-tipped crimson. The owner was bent double, face hidden from view.

“Awen,” Ooschu called telepathically.

The woman raised her head and looked around.

“Awen,” the dragon tried again.

The flaming head turned to look directly at Ooschu, but the gaze held no trace of recognition, nor flare of comprehension. Instead, Awen leapt from her perch and sprinted north, covering the tell-tale hair.

Disappointed and confused, Ooschu struck out for deeper waters to avoid harming the humans. Treading lightly, she trailed the Awen until the woman turned inland and disappeared again.

Ooschu paddled beneath a pod of dolphins and spied a harbor seal struggling against the tangle of a discarded net. Anger surged through her. The humans’ arrogance would kill them all. Diving, she used a razor-sharp claw to free the pinniped. With no thank you or acknowledgement, the seal swam away.

Ooschu winced. After all this time, she should be used to the rude behavior. But dragons were sensitive, especially water dragons. And Ooschu was more sensitive than most.

The forgetfulness curse allowed dragon-kind to survive, and with them, the Earth and her many species. But it made Ooschu’s life thankless, not to mention lonely. And infinitely boring.

Of course, lonely and boring were preferable to the precipitous end they all faced. The reptilians were restless and seeking a way out of UnderEarth. It was up to the druids and the Dragon Keepers to stop them. But with their memories lost, AboveEarth was in danger. And only Ooschu and the bumbling earth dragon Talav had a clue.

Chapter 5, Underworld Encounter

The spirit guides had a habit of waking Shalane in the middle of the night, usually when they wanted to deliver a message. She would rather sleep than receive transmissions. But whatever. Divine never asked her opinion.

She sat up and stacked pillows behind her, groaning at each motion. Her back and head, hell, her entire body ached from yesterday’s fall. Or rather, from being tackled by a lunatic. One who’d dashed off without bothering to see if Shalane was hurt. Anger surged, hot and impotent.

She took several deep breaths until it passed, then prepared for meditation. On the third out-breath, Shalane imagined sending energetic roots into the earth and rode them down. Slicing through the bedrock, she descended the tendrils to their endpoint.

Once there, Shalane turned for the surface, but a flash of silver caught her eye. The size of a firefly without the blink, it shot toward her, then stopped. Another light followed, joining the first to hover at eye level a few yards away.

Were they studying her? She felt no ill intent. Their behavior indicated sentience, but her probe encountered nothing familiar. Shalane hesitated, then gathered to her full energetic height, bowed deeply and straightened.

“Greetings, beings. I am Shalane—sorceress, priest, shaman, and channel, beloved of Archangel Michael.” No sooner had the words exited her mouth than the lights vanished. Goosebumps crept up the back of Shalane’s neck. She could no longer see the entities, but she sensed them, along with something else.

Nerves jolted, Shalane continued, “I reside above Earth, though my spirit travels where it will. Who are you, oh creatures of Earth’s inner realm?”

No reply. No visible sign of the beings either. Time to leave. She tried to ascend, but something held her in place. She couldn’t break free. Sick fear burgeoned. She was stuck in the Underworld. Shalane called on Archangel Michael, but her panicked pleas sounded garbled to her own ears.

Casting about, Shalane searched for what trapped her spirit. Shimmering beyond reach, an amorphous blob pulsed in alternating shades of quicksilver, charcoal, ebony, and slate.

Was it fixed to the bedrock? Or translucent and hovering? Whatever, it had locked onto Shalane’s energy body. Her leg disappeared into the rock. It had created a vacuum.

Taking a deep, centering breath, Shalane focused her psychic powers on escape. The creature fell back, and her leg reappeared. But she was still stuck. Redoubling her efforts, she called again on Archangel Michael and felt a welcome surge of energy. The hold loosened and Shalane’s foot slid free.

Shooting to the surface, she came to with a gasp in her own bed and opened grateful eyes to survey her surroundings. Everything was in its place and all was as it should be, though her body ached and she trembled. From the room next door came Cecil’s rhythmic snores, the reason they no longer slept together.

Shuddering, Shalane sank lower in the bed and drew the covers to her chin. Those creatures had been intent on keeping her prisoner in the Underworld. Though her grandmother had warned her repeatedly over the years, Shalane had never encountered anything like this. Her failure to sense danger was worrisome.

Afraid to continue the meditation or sleep, she rose gingerly and wrapped a silk kimono around her girth. She resisted the urge to check her reflection in the dresser mirror. The extra pounds gained since Thanksgiving were a mystery. She had taken the pills her doctor prescribed and neither ate nor drank more than before. She got plenty of exercise, thanks to Cecil and her various lovers. Yet still Shalane’s figure ballooned.

Making her way to the wet bar, she poured several fingers of her favorite Glenlivet. Cecil had stockpiled cases of the single-malt scotch before it went scarce and prices skyrocketed.

Sipping it like a liqueur, Shalane carried her glass to the expansive terrace overlooking the San Fernando Valley. The mansion’s upkeep was monstrous, but the panorama was worth every penny. She sank into a fancy cushioned chair and pulled her robe tight against the Santa Ana winds.

Lights littered the valley before her. Traffic buzzed along the 101, speeding in and out of Los Angeles, even at this hour. In the far distance, Shalane could just make out the light trail that would be cars climbing the El Cajon pass, heading north out of the San Fernando.

Behind her, the Pacific Ocean glistened diamonds under the moon, but no headlights there. That section of the iconic Highway 1 had been gobbled by the sea.

Shalane rested her drink on the ledge of her protruding belly and thought of Ebby Panera, as she often did. The weight gain had started after the woman vanished. Was it coincidence or connected?

She’d had plans for Ebby. Fat good it had done. The woman had dropped off the face of the earth. But Shalane missed her spunk and her sharp intellect. And the trail of gardenias that followed in her wake.

Gardenias. Wait. The scent still clung to the blouse she’d worn. Was the runner Ebby? Her thoughts flashed to the day before, to the whirlwind that had knocked her flat, giving her a concussion.

Fuzzy details sharpened into focus. The woman’s hair was different—an almost startling shade of red—but the compact shapely figure and the enormous energy belonged to Ebby Panera.

Elated, Shalane gulped a lungful of air, put her glass on the patio table, and danced around the terrace. She had found Ebby!

Or had she? It had happened so fast and Shalane hadn’t seen her face.

But deep down she knew, and the certainty grew until it filled her being. Casting an imaginary circle, Shalane walked around it three times and stood in the middle, facing south toward Venice Beach.

“It’s been too long, Ebby darling,” Shalane muttered aloud. “You thought you could run away, but you are wrong. You won’t know this is from me, but you will wish for protection and that’s enough for now. No one walks out on Shalane Carpenter. Not even you.”

Reaching out to the energetic universe, Shalane gathered a ball of ether between her open palms and poured her intention into creating an Elemental. She widened the distance between her hands, cackling as the orb grew.

When the Elemental reached the size of a throbbing beach ball and threw off sparks the color of night, Shalane pictured Ebby on the Venice Beach Boardwalk, crimson hair whipping in a gale. On a whispered curse, Shalane hurled the Elemental in Ebby’s direction, willing it to fly true to its target.

Satisfied, Shalane reclaimed her drink and lifted it to the heavens in a toast. She took a long swig and welcomed the burn as the liquid raged down the back of her throat and blazed a trail to her stomach. Sweat beads erupted and the faltering east winds cooled her brow.

Shalane turned a slow circle, soaking up the view. She would miss this place while away on tour. Twenty weeks was a long time to be gone.

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