3D Hard Surface Texture Artist (Commissions Open)
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Evandor left. No announcement, no request.
He simply flew.
He kept going.
Nothing happened.
No weapon fired.
No one came after him.
No one ordered him back.
He flew farther than he had in years.
And eventually, he stopped.
He realized something.
Chase had been right.
There was nothing holding him back.
He had spent most of his life believing that freedom meant nobody could control him.
Now he understood something different.
Freedom meant that, whatever he decided to do next...
It was his decision.
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After Chase, Dawn filled in as his replacement.
Evandor didn't like her at first.
The replacement explained that the business would continue.
The corporation would continue.
Everything would continue.
But Evandor couldn't stop thinking about what Chase had said.
The leash.
At first, Evandor rejected the idea.
Then he started thinking about all the things he had done because he was afraid.
The rules, the system, the protection—all of it he accepted.
He had even convinced himself that he wanted all of it.
Maybe he did.
His hoard grew. New Gold was added on a regular schedule.
He liked being able to fly without everyone trying to kill him.
He liked being part of civilization.
But something didn’t sit right.
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Evandor didn't speak.
Chase reached toward him.
"There's nothing in the sky to control you."
Evandor stared at him.
"You are free."
A long moment of silence passed.
“I’ll stay here with you."
Evandor remained there until Chase's dying breath.
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"Once fired, it could not be used again. The full requirements and material structure would be too expensive to justify the acquisition of your hoard."
Evandor stared at him.
"Could they build another one?"
“If they do, it would be built with your money.”
Evandor was silent.
"You've spent all these years believing that something in the sky could kill you."
"And because you believed it, you became part of the world—and the corporation."
Evandor frowned.
"You thought I gave you freedom."
Evandor shook his head.
"You did."
"No."
Chase smiled.
"I gave you permission to exist."
Evandor went quiet.
"That's the leash."
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Chase continued.
"When I first went to your mountain, I was scared senseless."
Evandor laughed.
"You didn't look scared."
"I’m a professional.”
Evandor smiled.
Chase continued.
"We only needed to show him once. We were sure you were smart enough to understand."
Evandor remembered.
"And you understood."
Evandor was quiet.
"There's something you don't know."
"That machine could only work once."
Evandor stared at him.
"What?”
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"We put a leash on you."
Evandor stared at him.
"Dragons were supposed to be free..."
"I am free! You protected me. My hoard is growing! I have nothing to complain about. I have been more free since I met you than I have been in my entire life."
Evandor didn't understand.
"That’s the trick. I was “free” the entire time I worked for the corporation. In reality, I was scared about what would happen to me if I ever quit. Look at me now."
Chase looked at him.
"You've been afraid."
"I haven't."
“I’ve seen you look at the sky.”
Evandor looked away.
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"The big dragon. Flying through the sky. Breathing fire. Guarding treasure."
"You've just described me."
"I know."
Chase laughed.
"When we learned dragons were real, I thought it was amazing. Then I learned about you—the “contingent liability in property 42876.43.”"
"What?"
“It was your designation until the corporation could properly categorize you. I realized what we were going to do to you."
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Evandor didn't understand.
“...Dawn is terrible.”
Chase looked at him.
“Be patient with her. Dawn is a very capable individual. Give hertime.”
“I don't like her.”
Evandor frowned.
“I don't trust her.”
“You don't have to trust heryet.”
Chase paused.
“Just give him a chance.”
Evandor remained silent.
After a moment of silence, Chase looked toward Evandor.
"When I was growing up, dragons were always the best part of stories."
Evandor smiled.
"Of course we were. We are majestic and powerful."
Evandor said as he straightened up.
12
Eventually he found Chase.
When Evandor knocked on the glass Chase looked over.
Chase’s expression was cold as ever.
"You didn't tell me."
"It was not necessary information for you."
Evandor looked around.
“Back in my day, the families of the dying would stay to watch. Where is your family?"
"A few of my associates stopped by."
"That is not what I asked."
“I don’t have a family.”
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Evandor flew to the city.
People took notice and continued their day.
They had seen him before, but nobody had really seen him walk through the city like this.
It was the perceived lack of threat he never got used to. More than the technology or business, it was the people's lack of fear that got to him the most.
Evandor ignored them.
He searched the hospital.
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The representative hesitated.
"Chase has been sick."
Evandor stared at her.
"For how long?"
“I don’t know. It was not my place to ask."
Evandor didn't say anything else.
He left.
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At their quarterly meeting, the door opened at the usual time, but Chase wasn’t the one to walk through.
"Who are you?"
"Hello there. My name is Dawn. I'm your new corporate representative."
Evandor frowned.
"Where's Chase?"
"I'm afraid Chase won't be coming."
"Bring Chase to me now."
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Evandor became normal.
He was still a dragon.
Evandor was once a symbol of fear.
Fear turned into awe. Awe to fascination, fascination to acceptance and acceptance to mundanity.
Now he was part of everyday life.
He could travel and meet people.
He could fly over cities without causing panic.
People saw him and went about their day.
Children pointed at him.
People took pictures.
Businesses used him in advertisements.
Evandor's life changed in ways he never expected.
And Chase was always there.
Years passed.
They became friends.
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The bank grew.
Businesses were built, homes were purchased, companies expanded, and research was funded.
Evandor called it his invisible hoard.
Instead of gold sitting in one place, his wealth was spread throughout civilization.
The corporation was happy.
Evandor was happy.
And Chase kept coming back.
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The deal went through.
It was ridiculous at first, a dragon contracting loans. Surprisingly Evandor was exceptionally good at it.
He understood wealth, and he was patient.
A human might consider a fifty-year loan an enormous commitment.
Evandor considered it short-term.
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Evandor looked back toward his mountain.
"My money has been there for a very long time."
"And how much has it made you?"
Evandor paused.
Then he smiled.
"Fine. Show me the contract."
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"My wealth is useful."
"It's sitting in a mountain."
"It's my hoard."
"And it can remain your hoard."
Evandor narrowed his eyes.
"You want me to lend it."
"Yes."
"To people."
"Yes."
"They'll pay me back?"
"With interest."
Evandor considered this.
"And you expect me to trust you with my hoard?"
"I expect you to trust the contract."
Evandor laughed.
"And what does the corporation get?"
"A percentage."
"Of course."
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Evandor slammed his claws down in front of Chase.
Chase didn't move.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Chase looked down at the claw inches from his feet.
"Are you finished?"
Evandor stared at him.
"That weapon... You came here to threaten me."
"No. I'm here for a proposition."
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A massive explosion erupted where the red line had stopped.
Evandor stared.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he slowly looked back at Chase.
"...Could you compete with that?"
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Chase went back to his tablet.
After another moment, he pointed toward a distant area.
"Look there."
Evandor turned.
A red line appeared in the sky.
It moved across the ground, setting fire to everything in its path.
Evandor watched it.
"That's interesting."
The line stopped.
Evandor smiled.
"I could do that. Your magic is nothing that could compete with me."
"That's just the targeting system."
Evandor looked at him.
"What?"
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"Are you a wizard?"
Chase stopped.
"Back in my day, the tomes were thicker. Has human magic gotten weaker?"
Evandor laughed.
Chase looked at him.
"Wizards exist?"
Evandor's laughter stopped.
"..."
"..."
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Outside, Chase looked up at the sky.
"Look up."
Evandor followed his gaze.
"Do you see anything?"
"See what?"
"Exactly."
Chase pulled out his tablet and began working.
Evandor watched him for a while.
"What are you doing?"
"Just wait."
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"You no longer have the capability of defending yourself."
He paused.
"Or, to put it more accurately, humanity now has the ability to remove you as a contingent liability."
Evandor stared at him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"I should kill you. Burn you to ash."
"You could."
"I could destroy your corporation."
"I wouldn't recommend trying."
Evandor moved closer.
"You have too much faith in this corporation."
"I don't have any faith. I'm a professional."
Chase looked at him.
"The problem is that you think this is a fight you can win."
Evandor's anger grew.
Chase held up a hand.
"Let me show you something."
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"There is something else."
"Of course there is."
"If you agree to the deal, the corporation will classify you as an asset. You will also fall under corporate protection."
Evandor thought about it.
Then he frowned.
"I don't need protection. I've defended this mountain for centuries. I can protect myself."
Chase nodded.
"I'm sure you believe that."
Evandor's expression changed.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
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"You want me to lend it... to people?"
"Exactly."
"No. It's my hoard, and you people keep finding new ways to try and steal it."
"A reasonable concern. But the corporation would handle all criminal behavior."
"What would happen if they don’t pay it back?"
“We have lawyers.”
“What if they kill the lawyers?”
“We have more lawyers"
“Hmpf!”
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"A business opportunity? You came to my mountain for a business opportunity?"
"Yes."
"What kind of business opportunity?"
"One that could make both of us very rich."
"I am already rich. What could you possibly offer me?"
"More."
The statement was cause for pause.
“...How?”
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“Hello Evandor, my name is Chase. I would like to talk to you about a mutually beneficial opportunity.”
"...You know my name?"
"My employer has done its research into your past."
"You know me and you're still standing here? You must have a death wish."
"...I'm a professional."
Evandor stared at him.
“I’ve never known a burglar to be so polite.”
“I’m not a burglar, just a representative.”
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117
A knock on the door woke the dragon.
He heard all kinds of sounds: armor clinking, men whispering, armies marching. But a knock was a new one.
But nobody knocked.
He hated being woken up all the same.
The dragon dismissed it as the mountain settling, until he heard it again.
Confused and intrigued, the dragon walked over to the entrance.
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The size difference of these two there's something I wasn't expecting when I put them together. I was trying to play with forced perspective here to make their sizes look a bit even. I think I got pretty close. What are you going to say?
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298
The Fungus reaches the end of its cycle.
The old body dies.
The next one wakes with everything except the memory of the Machine.
The Machine has forgotten too.
They meet again.
Neither recognizes the other.
But they fall into step anyway.
The work becomes shared.
The distance feels shorter.
The journey feels easier.
Neither knows why.
They simply discover that life is better together.
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They finally reach the place where the answer should be.
They stop.
Neither searches.
Neither turns back.
The reason is still there, waiting to be understood.
But neither of them seems interested anymore.
They leave it behind.
They keep walking together.
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The clocks finally became impossible to ignore.
The Fungus was nearing the end of its cycle.
The Machine was nearing the end of its memory.
Soon they would forget
Becoming strangers was no longer abstract.
Routes were marked.
Identities were recorded.
The reason for their journey was written down.
They could only leave something behind for the future.
A way to find each other again.
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Then they found evidence of themselves.
Not memories.
Not stories.
The same marks appear. Notes connecting places neither could remember. Their separate histories entwined with each other.
They had been following the same trail.
Perhaps they had already reached the end once.
Arguments were had, compromises where made.
Not because either had found the correct answer.
Because neither wanted the other to leave.
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Time together became ordinary.
They adjusted their pace without being asked.
They noticed hunger, exhaustion, danger, and the approach of the other's limits.
The Machine began counting the Fungus's remaining days.
The Fungus began preparing for the Machine to forget.
Neither could stop the other's clock.
So they built routines.
For a while, that was enough.
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Upon meeting, neither understood the feelings that followed.
But neither walked away.
They traveled together immediately.
One carried.
One watched.
One waited when the other fell behind.
A routine formed before either could remember creating it.
The Machine had spent its journey trying to recover a purpose.
The Fungus had spent its cycles carrying one forward.
Now, without knowing why, they shared the same road.
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The Fungus remembered everything.
Every cycle ended with one body dying and another inheriting memories.
The next body was already being prepared.
Supplies were divided for two.
Space was left for two.
Instructions preserved for someone could no longer remember a meeting.
Among those instructions was the Machine.
It only knew, when the time came, the next body was supposed to find it.
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Life came back.
People did not.
The Machine kept moving.
The reason no longer mattered.
Pieces of its purpose disappeared everyday.
Thirty days was enough to become invested, but never enough to hold it.
It kept moving.
Whenever reason disappeared, it started again.
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