“War Dog!”

He-Thing exclaimed,

waking from a nightmare.

Reality seeped into him —

he could hear the throaty hum

of the lasercopter’s sorcery-engines,

and yellow sunlight came in

through the porthole windows —

the grey colors of his dream

receded from his mind

like water lifting itself

into the air.

But he had dreamt of

War Dog,

his most faithful companion

and friend.

He had not yet

even been able to speak,

when she had first been thrown

as a puppy

into his crib,

snarling, biting, licking, and barking.

Vaila poked her head in

from the cockpit.

“Are you alright, Alam?”

He-Thing still

could not meet her gaze.

“I had a dream...a nightmare...

about War Dog...”

“You’ve been parted from her

before,” Vaila said.

Not like this.

“Not like this,” he argued.

“She is strong.”

“It was a bad omen,”

he muttered.

She could not think of a way

to assuage his worries.

“We are almost there,”

Vaila said softly.

Zolantos called Vaila

back to the cockpit.

He-Thing turned

and looked out the window.

The lasercopter skimmed over

a vast plain of towering tulips,

as tall as trees —

no, taller —

their fat, fragrant petals

suffused with opulent color.

On the horizon before them,

towering even higher than the flowers,

was the bulbous honeycomb hive

of the Bee People,

who governed and drank from

the Sweet Lands,

distilling the sunlight

through their hyper-prisms

and binding it with their honey,

to create the renown

Sacred Blue Nectar,

which He-Thing’s companions

promised would heal him.

At the base

of the colossal hive,

the humble spires of

the Hospital of the Sacred Blue Nectar

reached tentatively

into the sun-painted sky.

The modest but sprawling

structure

sat next to a small,

artificial lake,

which

reflected the sunlight

in its waters

reverently.

To our heroes’ dismay

and expectation,

a dense crowd of sick

and suffering people

huddled outside the

Hospital, all desiring

succor

from whatever wound, disease

or malefic ailment

had forced them to last resort.

Zolantos gently

landed the lasercopter

on the outskirts of the throng.

He sighed,

and then followed Vaila

back into the cabin,

where He-Thing

was lying on his back, taking

shallow, labored

breaths.

They carried their

heroic friend out of the lasercopter,

and laid him upon the ground.

The grass was cool and damp

beneath him,

sending an electrifying shiver

through his skin,

awakening him

to the clear air and

brilliant sunlight around him.

Zolantos rubbed his hands together,

and spoke.

“He-Thing,” Zolantos said,

“I have been called

to Castle Brave Bone.

Vaila will care for you now.”

He-Thing was too weak to reply.

Zolantos turned to speak

to his daughter.

“Do what we discussed.

But remember, Vaila —

we must adapt to the world.

It does not adapt to us.”

“I will remember, father,”

Vaila said.

Zolantos turned and boarded

the lasercopter.

The door slid closed behind him.

He-Thing watched as the lasercopter

ascended.

Sleep took him.

to be continued...