I was flying low across the desert, only fifty or so meters off the ground, as I didn't want to be seen from too far away. I was flying around a breakneck 160 kph, fast enough to get me there in just over five hours or so, but slow enough to allow me to enjoy the flight. To insure that I didn’t swallow a bug, I made an envelope of dead air in front of me, which also cut down on the noise.

Ever since I was a little kid, I wanted to fly, so this experience was amazing. It wasn't the Cliffs of Dover, but it would do. The wind whipping around me made the intense sun seem further away, but the total lack of cloud-cover made it incredibly bright and sunny. I felt so good, I almost wanted to do loop-de-loops, but that would last all day.

After about four hours of flying over plain desert, I noticed something. Two black specks appeared on the horizon, and were quickly approaching. As I flew, they split up, looping around and pulled up behind as I slowed down to let them catch up.

"Our queen has requested that These ones bring you to her," the creature shouted over the rushing wind. Its voice was deep and scratchy like an old man's, leading me to believe it was a male. He also seemed to possess a mild west african accent, which I found amusing.

His skin was smooth and matte, looking like a bug's chitin. His eyes were blue and compound, much like the eyes of a fly— the lack of pupils made his gaze quite unnerving, however. His muzzle was blocky and sharp, though a bit on the stubby side. He had fangs poking out from his upper lip, and though they were small, they looked quite effective. Atop his head was a small horn, though its purpose was a mystery to me, as it was small enough to discourage the idea of it being used like a normal horn.

"It would be wise to follow These ones," screamed the second, "They were asked to bring you to her unharmed, but this one can restrain you easily without injuring you." The second's voice sounded distinctly more feminine, and she seemed to possess a mild arabic accent.

These were likely forward scouts, meaning that whatever it was that I saw, has an organized military (with a very eclectic english teacher). I said nothing, but simply nodded and allowed them to guide me. I was interested to see just where this would go.

My brief, and horrible vision granted me no opinions of success, but I had a feeling that this was going to be interesting. We were only eighty kilometers or so away from the power, but I could see nothing yet.

As we flew, the two scouts said nothing, and didn't bother to glance in my direction. I allowed the silence to stand, as I didn't feel like screaming to drag out what I suspected would be forced smalltalk. After another hour of flying, I could see the tip of what appeared to be a mountain crest over a high sand dune.

As we approached, more of the mountain appeared, though it looked impossibly steep, and seemed to poke from the sand nonsensically. Though, as we approached, I realized that it wasn't a mountain at all.

"Welcome, stranger, to Vérdia," said the first scout.

"What?"

"It is the name of our capital city; it means nature, or green in the ancient tongue of Changelings."

The spires of the high-reaching city stretched across the sky, scraping the low-hanging clouds which swirled around it. Terraces holding beautiful gardens littered the towers, filled with the wonderful colors of nature. Birds could be seen as tiny, colorful specks against the sprawling limestone structure. The architecture reminded me strongly of pictures I had seen of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

I could see many specks of black against the green of the stone and gardens; its inhabitants were constantly abuzz with activity. Some wore outfits of sackcloth, while others were completely nude. A few wore clothes of bright colors, yet what exactly they were was too difficult to discern from such a distance.

Along the southern border of the city, an ocean spread forever in both directions, giving the beautiful green spires a backdrop of the glittering blue sea.

As we approached, the activity continued unabated, despite the strange creature only a few kilometers away. When we were about five kilometers away, however, a group of five dressed in a thick, chitinous armor met the two scouts. They flew in a standard “V” formation. With a simple nod, the scouts turned and flew back the way we came, likely back to their posts.

"Hello, stranger. This one trusts you are unharmed?" asked the one in front. This one was different from the two scouts; the voice was two-toned, and deeply masculine, and his eyes were green, with irises split by cat like pupils. I also noticed that he was slightly taller than the others, though his eye-level was still only just above my navel. His eyes were intense and focused, yet possessed the same levity his voice carried. He had the poshest accent I’ve ever heard, though.

"Yes," I replied, barely holding back a snicker, "the flight was entirely uneventful, save for your scouts' little greeting."

"Ah, very good. This one would hate to have to explain to our Queen why you were in anything less than stellar condition," he said, motioning me to follow him. I fell into their formation, just behind the apparent leader.

"So who are you?"

"This one is the 1st Colonel of Her Majesty's Royal Army," he replied, not missing a beat.

"No name?"

"This one does not know how things worked where you came from, stranger, but we do not use our true names here. Names hold much power, so This one suggests you not give yours so easily," he said, looking back to me. I nodded and thought for a moment.

"Well then, Colonel, you may call me Samaritan."

He smiled and nodded, turning back, "Well met." We were now in the city proper, and details I had missed before were now clearly on display.

Merchants could be heard, hawking their wares to the populace, and the sound of children playing and laughing could be heard. Changelings could be seen doing anything imaginable, and the sound of people talking was omnipresent.

Much of the masonry had small waves carved into it, swirls and loops made the city feel alive as we flew past. Many windows lacked glass, and had colorful curtains. Most of the designs were reminiscent of Persian rugs, while a few were a simple solid color. Far below, cobbled roads split the city into neat little grids, and left wide pathways for its populace to fly around.

We were headed for the center of the city, where the largest of the monolithic buildings was located. As we got closer to the huge tower, Changelings could be seen in the same armor as my escorts wore. As we passed, they snapped to attention and held out a hoof, which looked disturbingly like a Nazi salute. The gesture was lazily returned by the Colonel, who barely glanced in their direction without stopping.

"So what is it that makes you so different from the other Changelings here, Colonel?"

He slowed slightly for a moment before resuming his previous pace. "Well," he said, glancing back to me, "This one is what is referred to as inteligencia, which is Lingish for intelligent. This one was born with more cognitive abilities than most Changelings, as well as a few physical markings which few Changelings possess."

"So you have a caste system?"

"Oh no," he replied quickly, "our society is entirely meritocratic. Drones can rise to any position that they may, this one is simply more likely to be successful due to its predisposed ability."

"Hmm. It seems unfair, but I suppose life is unfair for the most part."

The Colonel simply sighed, "Yes, most Changelings know that better than anyone else."

I didn't reply, and the Colonel didn't feel the need to elaborate. We flew in an uncomfortable silence for the rest of our journey. When we were within a hundred meters of the mighty tower, my escorts angled themselves toward the base of the tower, and I followed.

"Welcome to the Citadel, Samaritan," said the Colonel, landing within meters of the large open door. "It was nice speaking with you, but we must part ways with you here. There is a member of Her Majesty's personal staff that will take you to her within."

I nodded and turned to the imposing doors. As they took off, likely to their posts, I took a steadying breath and walked off towards the keep.

The regal figure of the Queen lazed on the large stone chair that was used to meet visiting delegates, though it had been long before she was born that one such visitor had used their hospitality.

She stood slowly, opting to pace about the room to help her collect her thoughts. She knew that creature had not gained such power naturally, as such things slowly built over time. The birth of a demigod was something that grew exponentially over time, but it still took time to realize its power. What she was dealing with was a Champion.

A Champion was gifted godly power, having been chosen for their already considerable skill by their patron god. A demigod was not usually intentional, and though they might be utilized for their power, they were often enough just another person who happened to be incredibly powerful. A Champion was created, and they were always created with intent.

The only thing that gave her concern was that this Champion was on par with two of the strongest demigods in Mythas. Not only that, but it had decided to head directly for her shortly after its creation. She knew that even the combined might of the hive would do little against a Champion of such power. She could only hope that its mission was not to finish what the gods had started long ago.

As she contemplated this disturbing fact, she heard the stone doors to the highest point in the Capitol building of Vérdia. "My Queen," said a small bowing changeling, flanked on both sides by much larger guards. She had a slight accent, though it was difficult for her to tell just what type it was.

"Yes, my child?" She replied, quickly hiding any traces of worry from her face.

"The Satyr has arrived and is on the way here."

"Thank you, young one. You may return to your duties." The small one stood and nodded her head before turning and walking back down the short hall and connecting stairs.

The queen told her honor guard to return to their posts and allow the guest to enter when it arrived. They merely nodded and shut the door behind them, allowing the queen to return to her seat and thoughts of a fiery doom.

Author's Note

Edited! (again)