I rubbed my hand across my cheek. The mountain was cold. I called upon the power of the fire piece of the amulet. Soon a pocket of air rotated around our bodies, warming us, though the snow on the mountain remained untouched. “If I remember right,” I said, “the dragons came to be millennia ago.”
We poked around the mountain, searching for caves large enough to hold dragons, but found nothing. Finally, I headed toward the sound of the water, and we came upon a great pool that emptied over the side of a cliff. The water bounced down in steps, disappearing into the fog below. Each drop had formed a small pool where the water collected before continuing to tumble down the mountainside.
“Hello there.” I heard Ana’s voice and turned to see what she was doing. Ana knelt at the side of the pool at the very top, flicking her fingers at its surface. Colorful heads bobbed up next to her fingers, their mouths opening and closing as they sought food. “Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked as I crouched down beside her.
“Yes.” I smiled as Ana played with the koi fish.
“They’ve traveled a long way,” she said. “It seems they leapt from pool to pool to get to the top of the mountain.”
“Really? That’s quite an effort. Unless they were spawning, I didn’t think fish could manage such a thing.”
“I doubt that’s why,” Ana said. “These are all male.”
“Huh.” I tossed a rock in the pool and a golden head broke the surface. For just a second, the koi fish appeared to be glaring at me. It seemed very familiar as it stared at me with its big golden eyes. I stood up abruptly and peered down at the large fish. “How many are in there?” I asked.
“Five,” Ana answered.
Ticking off on my fingers as I examined them, I mumbled, “Gold, red, blue, white—”
“And green,” Ana finished. “He’s hard to see since the water is so green here.”
Suddenly my mind flashed back to something I’d heard long, long ago. “Ana,” I said, “I have a story to tell you.”
I regaled her with the tale passed down by my ancestors of the Yellow River and the koi. A long time ago, I’d shared the legend of the brave fish who swam up the river seeking a gift from a goddess with Yesubai. She’d loved the fish just like my mother. When I told her that the fish became dragons, we both knew what we had to do. Ana smiled and stroked the side of the blue one. He swam in a circle so she could reach his other side.
Pointing to the waterfall, I said, “My mother told me the falls where this transformation supposedly happened was called the Dragon’s Gate.”
She glanced down. “Then perhaps we should make this location a bit more obvious so the story might be shared.” Lifting her hands, Ana channeled her power, and the mountain shook, rocks tumbled and shifted, and when she was done, the top of the waterfall had a new lip that formed the bony skull of a dragon. Water poured from his open jaws and hollowed out depressions with different-colored rocks in the center worked for eyes. Jutting stones filled the open mouth to make teeth.
Below that, rocks shifted again, taking on the shape of a dragon in mid-transformation. Ana picked up both of us in an air bubble and we floated down the falls. Each step of the waterfall was reworked until the stone was lined with carved koi fishes leaping upward, each jump changing them until they became fully formed dragons at the top.
When Ana was satisfied, we headed back to the top and she turned to the fish themselves. They waited for her at the edge of the pool, and like she had with the other creatures, Ana asked them if they were willing to become something new. The fish, with as much intellect as fish possessed, agreed, and Ana used her power to imbue them with energy. One by one the fish rose from the water and changed before my eyes.
Scales lengthened and stretched. Tails thrashed back and forth, growing longer with each thrust. Their spines and heads grew knobby with spikes, feathers, hair, and antlers. Horns rose from their heads, as individual as the fish themselves. Their fins became legs and wicked talons. What surprised me the most was how obvious it should have been. Even as fish they had similar personalities to the dragons I’d come to know. Who knew that fish were so varied?
After the dragons were formed, they flew in circles above us and I watched them, trying to put my finger on what was different about them. Suddenly, it came to me. They were smaller. Younger. Perhaps the equivalent of dragon teenagers. I could see the joy they took in their new frames as they wound their sinewy new bodies around and between one another.
Ana, weary after such a huge investment of power, reached back to clutch my hand. I wrapped an arm around her. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“I will rest when we are done. But there is more I must give them.”
She raised her arms. “Come to me, my dragons. Tell me your new names and I will grant you each a gift.”
“Goddess,” the white dragon said as he drifted closer. “Tell us who you are, that we might thank the mother who gave us this new birth.”
“I…” Ana paused. “I am Mother Earth and this,” she said, indicating me, “is Father Time.”
“Mother,” the white dragon said, “how may we assist you?”
Ana stretched out her hand and cupped his cheek. “You will serve us, mighty dragon. But first, I will give you my blessing.” She looked from him to the others. “All of you are very special. You will be guardians, tasked with certain responsibilities. Only those as brave as you are deserving of so weighty a duty, and therefore, I will gift each of you with abilities to help you in your efforts. First, I summon my dragon of red. What will you call yourself?”
“My new name will be Lóngjūn,” the red-and-black dragon said.
“Very good. Then, Lóngjūn, newborn of the Pacific Ocean, henceforth, I give you a duty to guard the heavens. When mankind looks to the stars, they will see your shape and feel inspired by your daring. You are gifted with the power of the air and the light that fills the sky. Your domain is found in all points west of the center. I endow you with the breadth of the stars.” Ana touched his clawed foot and blew a kiss in his direction. Wind whipped around him and his body gleamed with power.
“Thank you, Mother,” the crimson-eyed dragon said.
Ana nodded as he spun away. “Come forth, dragon of green,” Ana called.
Immediately, the green dragon undulated toward us. I glared at the crafty beast, but he didn’t yet know who I was or what he’d be doing to me in the future. Even as young as he was, he still struck me as cocky and sly.
“What will you be called?” she asked.
“I will take the name Lü?èlóng,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Very well. Then, Lü?èlóng, newborn of the Indian Ocean, henceforth, I give you a duty to guard the earth. When mankind tills the soil, they will see your shadow overhead and know that their harvests will be fruitful. You are gifted with the power of the earth and the strength of the rocks. Your domain is found in all points east of the center. I endow you with the intensity of lightning.”
The body of the green dragon glowed and green leaves erupted down his back. His barrel chest swelled and he sunk down to the ground as if he’d become as weighted as stone. Then, he lifted his head and rose into the sky once more.
“Lü?èlóng,” I warned, unable to resist needling the dragon, “perhaps it would behoove you to return and thank your mother.”
The dragon wrinkled his nose and snorted a puff of air, but I was gratified to hear his sulky, “Thanks.”
“Next, my dragon of blue,” Ana said.
We waited for him to make his slow way toward us. He hesitated until Ana offered to pat his sides as she did when he’d been a fish. He dropped fully to the ground at her feet and rolled over onto his back so she could scratch his belly.
“What will you call yourself?” Ana asked.
The dragon yawned mightily and lifted an arm so she could reach the spot he wanted. His electric-blue scales shimmered in the light. Only when Ana stopped did he turn his attention back to her. He tried nudging her to continue but she refused. “You will answer me, dragon of blue.”