DRAGON’S LINEAGE
By
Catherine M. Rainwater
I. TALIESSA & UMAGA
January 1, 1331
Taliessa stretches out, and her scales shimmer in the light that encroaches through the clouds, into her lair upon the highest mountain peak in Seixuso. It was cold all the time here this high up but she and her kind never minded such things. Taliessa had lived in this lair, watching over the Elven community of the dragon lord Io, far below in the holy temple, for over one hundred years. She knew the legend of Spyridon, the celestial dragon who had been entrapped within the planet thus named after her. However, did she believe it? Perhaps, though she couldn’t make up her mind about the whole thing. Crawling over the precious metals that lined her lair, she reaches a wall with many deep grooves and a luster that sparked when hit by the sunlight. Lifting her paw, her claws dig at the wall, leaving a pile of silvery chunks and powder on the floor below, which she promptly eats. She curled into a nice cold corner, grooming herself, thinking over the story of Spyridon.
The legend of Spyridon is a story that every dragon knows. It is more than a fable, it is something instinctively known, though told by parent to child. Part of dragon tradition. For the most part, it is only the dragons that know this story, for few tell the secrets.
Before the planet Spyridon existed,
back when dragons were big enough to eat the stars themselves and fly through
space, Io had only a select number of dragons that served him, and one was named
Spyridon. Spyridon was gluttonous and when she was told many times to eat fewer
stars, she disobeyed. One day, Io, god of the dragons, and some say god of the
gods, caught her eating more than she needed and told her she was to be
punished. He thought on it and decided to imprison her within a planet.
Spyridon cried and begged of him not to, for who would
watch her 3 children? And so Io said he would keep them near her at all times.
Spyridon cried and wept and when she was imprisoned within the planet, her
tears filled the oceans. Io, keeping his
promise, made her 3 young children into the moons that would orbit her. They were Cristos and Amaros, her two sons,
and
From the magic of her tears, onto the lands of the planet then called Spyridon, came dragons and elves. The dragons were smaller than the massive ones Io had at his side, and smaller than the dragons of the world we know. They were roughly the size of horses. And the elves were of tan skin and red hair, not the fair skin or dark skin of the elves known of this world today. The elves befriended the dragons and they lived together in peace and cooperation, some groups splitting off to worship gods other than Io, who had seen fit to bestow their gifts upon the creatures of Spyridon’s tears. But one of the goddesses who came along with it was Lolth, evil and dark in her ways, enslaving and murderous. And so the divide of elves began and the wars began, tearing the Elven race apart. Io decided to put upon the planet, humans. They would help the light seeking elves drive those who worshiped the spider queen, Lolth, underground. And with Lolth’s power and corruption, their hair became platinum, and their skin became dark gray, and they became known as Drow.
Rejoicing in their victory of banishing them, the story of Spyridon was not passed on to the humans, and it was not a legend often told by the elves, for they then had their own legends to tell. The dragons did not fully trust the humans, and pleaded with Io to help them, for they felt the humans would eventually betray them. So Io blessed the dragons, and each hatchling that came ever after for many years was bigger than the previous, more cunning, and then one day had wings, for they had not before. They became what we would know as the modern dragon today. Other races would come to Spyridon, and some would go. The elves and the dragons began to change in their habitats, creating sub races that we know today. The legend of Spyridon remained part of Dragon lore, passed down from generation to generation.
Taliessa considers her mother’s words to her about harboring the story close to her. She decides she will tell her oldest child, Lishala, the story at the hatching of her own first child. Lishala lives in her own small lair with her mate (off and on), south of Seixuso, and has two eggs awaiting hatching in her rookery, due to hatch sometime in June of the year 1331. Lishala, a priestess, often traveled into Seixuso to the temple there to worship and was told that her children were prophesized as twins who would both become clerics, a priest and priestess of Io. Worshipers dared not travel to the mountain top lair to give worship to the upcoming twins, for Lishala would chase them away, fearing thieves in her horde. Taliessa knew though that she would be allowed and prepared for the flight, stretching and licking the dew from the pine trees outside the entrance to her home.
As she gazes towards the north, towards Kio, she can see the mountain peak she knows quite well, where a Mist Dragon by the name of Umaga lives. Thinking of Umaga brought a small swirl of mist from her nose and she snorts at the snow on the ground beneath her, whipping up a billow of the dry fluffy January snow. A new year donning today, she wondered if she would see her long-time friend, Nightwing, the angel of night. He’d come to her as a child and when her mother was teaching her to fly, he would take her out for extra practice. She grew up knowing him, and thought of him as a brother of sorts, or even a father. However, Nightwing thought of her differently. He was jealous of Taliessa’s fondness of Umaga, and envied him for being a dragon. In desperation he sought out the help of a sorceress, hoping that there was something he could use at will to change himself into a dragon. The sorceress had told him to kill Umaga, which would lock away his dragon spirit at death into an orb. Nightwing was then told he’d be able to take the orb and use it to change forms. When Umaga had left the sorceress, she took an artifact ring to Umaga and left it as an offering as so many of the villagers he protected did. The ring was cursed to do exactly as the sorceress said that the orb would do, but she had tricked Nightwing, who would never know that it was in fact a ring he was after.
Taliessa decides as she stands there at the mouth of her mountain, to not wait any longer for Nightwing. Knowing nothing of where he is today, she leaps down, running upon the clouds as though they are ground, until a clearing is found, and dives through it, heading north towards Kio. It’s a short flight, perhaps 20 minutes, and then she dives down, to the snowbound earth below, landing in the mountains there beside a pool of water and a waterfall. She smiles at the waterfall and stands there for quite some time, laying down a while to rest in the sun. The sound of the water trickling instead of roaring is the only thing that tells her that she isn’t alone. Umaga comes out from his lair behind the falls and curls up against her, stretching out like a cat and then rolls over playfully, flopping his legs over her back with a stream of mist issuing from his nose. Giving a laugh, she rolls over to her back to look up at the morning sky and he lays his head across her scaled chest.
“Good morning Umaga. Have you seen Nightwing yet this morning flying about?” Taliessa asked to Umaga as he chortled a little when her tail reaches up to scratch behind his ear.
“No. I never really see him anyway. He likes you too much you know.” Umaga teased, nipping playfully at her chin.
Dragons were supposed to only associate themselves with those of their own sub-species. Cloud Dragons with Cloud Dragons, and Mist Dragons with Mist Dragons, it was the same with all, red, black, gold, silver, it made no difference. Their love was kept secret in this little water pool and behind the falls. They each mated with their own types but their hearts belonged to each other.
“Do you think so?” Taliessa stood and stretched, rubbing herself against the rocky walls to relieve and itch.
“You’re trying to make me jealous. It won’t work. I know you too well for that.” He laid there and watched as she pretended to make sure the area carried her scent to ward off any other female dragons.
She laughed and walked back over to him, returning a few nips to his neck and then nuzzled his nose with her own.
“I’m going to see Lishala and check on my grandchildren. I’d like to stop by and make sure she isn’t going insane up there by herself. The villagers are terrified of her.” Taliessa sat, grooming herself as she spoke.
“Give her my blessings. Speaking of which, I received a ring today as an offering. I’ve received gold before but never jewels like this. I’m wearing it now, though in my human form. I will show it to you tonight, if you decide you’re lonely enough to spend your free time keeping me company.” Umaga smirked as Taliessa chortled and chuckled.
“All right, I’ll come straight back here tonight. I’m afraid though to leave my lair so undefended for so long.”
“You need a mate living with you. Or better yet, to move in with a mate.” He playfully tackles her while grinning. She trumpets a laugh and bites gently at his neck. “But really, Tali, there’s no way anyone can get up there. I’m sure it will be safe.”
“You know how it is…but I know you are right.” She rolls him off of her and shakes herself off, moving towards a south facing cliff. “I should go. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can come back here.” Giving a smile, she nuzzles him again and then spreads her wings, jumping off the cliff to fly south.
The trip isn’t anything special, as she flies down past her own lair, circling once and then continues on to a lair south of Seixuso. Landing outside the cave she bellows to let Lishala know she has arrived and is greeted fondly by Lishala, giving a purr, and they nuzzle, rubbing sides before going inside. Lishala takes her mother to the rookery which is coated in ice, and frost, cold to the point of freezing. Cloud Dragons need cold, not heat, to hatch their young. Lishala lies down in the rookery, shuffling snow around and Taliessa joins her.
“You’ve been to see Umaga, haven’t you?” Lishala points out in a lightly accusing tone to her mother.
“Aye, what does it matter? Umaga is my friend.” Taliessa watches her daughter carefully.
“You know what the Great Council will think if they find out.”
“I don’t care what they think, to be honest. We have done nothing wrong.” Taliessa stands and walks over to the two silvery rainbow colored eggs, turning them over and they wiggle. She chortles and nuzzles them both.
“Mother, I know how you feel for him, but shouldn’t you just find a Cloud Dragon mate to stay with you? Perhaps my father?”
“But I don’t love him. I love Umaga. We will do nothing against the Great Council rules, but they cannot say who I can and cannot associate with.”
Lishala stands and stretches, sticking her tongue out to feel the temperature of the room. After a few moments, she inhales deeply and then releases an icy blast of frost over the eggs, cooling the room more and the eggs as well.
“Umaga refuses to take a mate, either.” Taliessa adds to their conversation.
“Good for Umaga, but you’re a female. It’s not safe for you to be by yourself all the time as you are. What if red dragons came and attacked you?”
“If anything were happening where I live, Umaga would know it, and he would come to my aid. Nightwing, too, comes around and would protect me. Umaga has asked me to join him anyway.”
“You can’t do that. And by the way, Nightwing is infatuated with you. You need to be careful of him. I know he is an angel, but I don’t trust him.”
“Neither does Umaga trust him, but I’ve known Nightwing my whole life, and he is an angel after all.” She nuzzles her daughter again. “I should go. I think there is a blizzard coming. I will come back to see you in a few days.”
“Alright, but be careful. It was good seeing you. You should come more often.” Lishala nuzzles her mother back and lies down again to watch over her precious treasure.
“I will be and I will come again. Goodbye.” Taliessa leaves Lishala’s rookery a little annoyed though she tries not to show it.
She knows Lishala meant well, but it was always the same thing from everyone. “Don’t be seen with Umaga.” “Don’t get caught with Umaga.” “You shouldn’t be alone in your lair.” “Find a lair mate.” She didn’t want a lair mate, she wanted Umaga, and for everyone else to mind their own business. This wasn’t the way of the dragons, though. It was not right to mate with a dragon of a different species; the hatchlings would be monstrous, and destroyed.
As she stuck her muzzle out onto the ledge of the lair, she could see the hazy appearance that fine snow gives when it fills the sky. Sticking her tongue out, she catches some of the snow, tasting it to see what it can tell her. Indeed a snowstorm was on its way. It would perhaps be a blizzard, for the clouds looked thick with the powder. She gazes down to the valley below full of fir trees and watches as the deep green branches become less visible. It would take her nearly 45 minutes to fly home. And while the cold did not bother her, at the altitudes she flew in, there would be some terrible winds. This snow wouldn’t affect her in the least, as she flies above the cloud cover whenever possible. Her scales bristle slightly in the wind, and her mane of white hair, blows around. The texture of her hair is more like fur and won’t snarl. She shakes her head, freeing the collected snow from her lashes and muzzle. Spreading her wings, she steps forward off of the cliff, her claws gripping at the rocky surface as she shoves off hard with her back feet, jetting forward and down at first. With the normal microburst winds that come up the side of the cliff in such weather, she is caught and uses it to her advantage to lift herself higher up towards the clouds above.
It doesn’t take her long before she breaks through the clouds, trailing them behind her in a line from her tail. Again, she shakes her head off, shaking the cloud mist from her mane. Her front paws, covered in fur, knead at the air somewhat, as she settles into a glide. She loved the feeling of soaring up here, though she feels the winds, and has to battle them to stay aloft. Her trip home is rough and slightly turbulent but she manages to get there safely, and the blizzard was settling in over the land. Unable to see Umaga’s lair from her own with the storm, she leaves her lair and carefully makes her way in its direction.
The sound of the waterfall lets her know she’s approaching it, as she nears, dipping down towards the landing. The snow was heavy and thick upon the ground, cushioning her rough decent onto the rocky surface. Giving a bellow, she enters the cave without waiting for Umaga to greet her outside. Within, the richly kept lair is a welcome sight and smell as she crawls towards the awaiting Umaga who has lifted his head, watching her enter the lair.
“You are cold…and wet.” He kidded.
“There’s a blizzard. Have you not looked outside the last hour?” She nuzzles against him though she has no need for warmth.
“You flew here in a blizzard? You shouldn’t have come; flying in that even for you is dangerous.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to be alone tonight and you did invite me after all.” She purrs, curling over onto her back.
“I want to hold you. Let’s change.” Umaga stood, smiling down at Taliessa.
With a nod of her head, Taliessa and Umaga both begin to shrink. Their scales smooth over, turning a pale cream color, soft to the touch. Their forms change into those of humans with lightly pointed ears, not quite human and not quite Elven. Umaga’s hair darkens into a red, while Taliessa’s darkens into a teal ocean blue. Umaga sits down then beside her and pulls her over to him, lying upon the cold metal littered floor, just holding each other. As dragons they couldn’t hold much with their arms as they were, and their soft human-like skin was softer this way. They aren’t by dragon law, allowed to be mates, but they share a few kisses, listening to the barrage of the waterfall. Umaga speaks of his own children, mostly sons. And Taliessa tells Umaga of her hopes for Donneshay, her own son, and her two daughters Lishala and Marguerite.
Marguerite, who had taken two mates and made her lair in the clouds over the northernmost continent, has four children, and three eggs nesting currently. She was the third to hatch. Lishala had been first, and Donneshay had been second to hatch. Marguerite, however, was angry with her mother. And Donneshay felt the same way. They couldn’t understand why their mother wouldn’t allow her season-time mate live with her in her lair. Or why she refused to mate again with him. They knew their mother harbored feelings for a Mist Dragon, however, and this was forbidden by the Council. Taliessa rarely visited them. Donneshay had three mates, and traveled between their lairs, each with two eggs in their rookeries located out in the west, in Shareem. So neither Donneshay nor Marguerite was close enough for a quick trip as she did with Lishala.
As they lay there watching the shadows form the torches lining the walls, cast upon the ceiling of the lair, words of the great wyrms in the council come to them, about abominations that would spring forth from the unions between different species, which must be destroyed. The heralding of an evil time when Red Dragons would mate with Gold Dragons, creating a hybrid of immense power, who is evil. Let one and you let them all. Taliessa curled against him, feeling the heat of his body against her own cold skin and wondered to herself what a hybrid Mist Dragon and Cloud Dragon would be like…if it would even be possible, since they were so different. She knew it probably would be possible, but what would the end result be? Maybe if they left Seixuso they could find out. No. She had to watch over Seixuso, and he had to watch over Kio. And then there was Lishala who Taliessa needed to tell the histories to.
Umaga was having the same thoughts as he drapes his arm around her, kissing at her neck. He loved the scent of Taliessa’s human form as much as her normal form. There is a metallic musk that dragons carry from sleeping upon coins, mixed with their own smell. Some Cloud Dragons nested in the clouds, and smelled of rain. Taliessa chose a standard lair, though above the cloud level. Umaga smiles as Taliessa rolls over in his arms and gives him a kiss, returning his smile.
* * *
The sound of metal against metal rings up the mountainside as they sleep still intertwined with each other. It is softened by the sound of the water churning in the small water pool outside the lair. Taliessa wakes with a start, sitting upright and turns to Umaga, shaking him gently.
“Umaga…something is wrong, we must see. Wake up.” Taliessa manages to awaken him and he sits up, and then stands, his skin taking on the appearance of wearing a silk brocade robe. He reaches down to pull her up.
“Change to your normal form and fly home. Check your lair. Don’t go near those sounds.” Umaga pressures her to leave and fly to safety.
Taliessa does as he says, changing,
and flying back to her lair. Below, she
can see the
Umaga stays in his human form, and steps out of his lair upon hearing footfall outside. He thought it might be a villager coming to seek refuge or help, which he was preparing to offer. The moment he clears the waterfall, a set of hands, powerful hands, shove at him, slamming him into the wall. He reels as the wind is knocked out of him, and feels the blow to his jaw connect. Someone from the battle below had come to pick a fight perhaps.
Taliessa’s things being in order,
she leaves her lair to come back to Umaga’s lair, wanting to help in any way
that she can. As she flies over the
village, she notices that those in strange uniforms all stop in fear at the
sight of her. They weren’t used to
seeing a dragon. And they weren’t from
the
Umaga swings back after the initial hit to the face, landing his own hits at the attackers face, and realizes her knows this being. It’s Nightwing! Nightwing pulls a short sword from within its sheath, swinging it at Umaga, who is unarmed. Unable to block with anything, he puts his arm up to prevent the sword from hitting his head as he stumbles back into the pool of water after slipping on a patch of ice. The searing pain to his arm is apparent immediately. The lack of a hand is not as quickly noticed. Umaga shifts his form to his dragon form, in agony, his blood hitting the icy water and steaming.
Taliessa hears Umaga’s voice scream out when his hand was cut off, and immediately turns her attention towards his lair, speeding towards it as fast as she can. The smell of Umaga’s blood is noticed first as she reaches the lair’s cliff, just in time to see Nightwing and Umaga fighting, and Nightwing’s blade slicing in through Umaga’s side towards his heart. Umaga bellows out, his body turning to steam at first, but the damage was done, and he cannot hold the form of steam as his body reforms, falling like lead to the cold water. He lays his head down on the shore of the pond, eyes fixed upon Taliessa who watches in horror, changing into her human form to lift Umaga’s human form hand which had fallen. Nightwing stands, unknowing of her presences, glaring at Umaga as though it had been some great prize.
Taliessa’s heart pounds in her chest, as she feels the whipping winds breach over the cliffs on which they stand. Small ice pellets hit her face, cutting small gouges into her cheek as the hail hits her fresh soft skin. Her love laying there looks so helpless that she just wants to scream out to him, but she doesn’t. She must remain quiet as she watches, careful not to make a sound.
“Now she can be mine, for you see, I can take your form.” Nightwing laughs as he kicks at the dying dragon’s injured front leg.
Umaga trumpets a growl that loosens rock, which falls down the cascading slopes of the mountain ledge. The air, despite being cold, is foggy with the mist issuing forth from the heat of his blood, touching the icy cold waters in which he lays. He can feel the cold water filling his wound, his lungs becoming tighter as his air is choked off, drowning in the invading water and his own blood. Small strings of the blood drool down from his gaping mouth, spilling over his already red beard.
The attack to his hand had loosened the gem from the ring and she plucks it from the setting, slipping it into her pocket…she knew Umaga was done for, and wanted something of his to remember him by. Humans often kept the matrimonial rings of their dearly departed, and she figures this is about the same concept. Frosty tears spill over her cheeks blinding her as they cling to her lashes, and she changes back into her dragon form. Nightwing notices the sounds of something large moving behind him and turns to face Taliessa in her full out dragon form. Behind him, Umaga closes his eyes, as Taliessa watches on. Soft crooning sobs escape her throat as she sees him trying to move.
“Tali…go…” The pained words issue forth as the blood spills out from his mouth and his dying breath escapes. His body vanishes in an explosion, turning into a cloud of steam, rising up in the mist of the falls.
Taliessa lets out a hiss, pawing at the ground as she watches Nightwing who appears to be in shock that she’d seen it. Her heart feels as though it’s breaking in her chest, and she snarls out a roar at him, which shakes the mountain and brings him to his knees, clutching his ears. Unable to hold herself together from crying and sobbing, she turns into a wisp of cloud and retreats to her own lair. Landing there she feels ill at ease and as fast as she can, speeds south towards Lishala.
Her large body slides in through the opening without voicing any warning upon her rough arrival and she sobs out her trumpet. Lishala clamors from the rookery and finds her mother lying upon the lair floor, crying, her front paws covering her snout. Lishala approaches her and nuzzles her in fear, wondering why she’s so upset.
“Nightwing…he killed him! I saw it with my own eyes!” Taliessa blubbered out in her split-tone voice which all dragons have; one metallic and the other human sounding. Her figure shifted into her human form and she pulls out the gem, setting it at Lishala’s paws. “Take this…take it and keep it. It was his and I couldn’t bear if something of his did not survive. It’s special, I can sense it, but I don’t know why. Keep it…I will come for it again no matter what. Understand what I am saying? I will come again.”
Lishala’s mood turns frantic. Her mother was speaking of death and rebirth! She pulls the fragile human body of her mother against her cold scales with her furry paw.
“Don’t you dare! Don’t say such things!” Lishala couldn’t continue, she felt something wasn’t right.
“I must go now…he will come for me, and can sense me. I can’t have him here. He will kill you too if he knows you know. Lisha, please, listen to my words…you get yourself out if he comes. You can have another clutch but you get yourself out!” Her form shifts as she runs towards the entrance, bounding away from her daughter as the sounds of the coins at her feet clink and clatter.
She didn’t take any time getting into the air, diving off of the cliff and round the mountain to head east. Leading him away seems like the only logical thing to do. There was a good red dragon that she knew of, probably the only one she ever heard of to be good, a ways to the northeast, if she could get there, perhaps he could help her.
She could feel Nightwing’s presence as she makes her way towards Kio. He catches up with her, though, in Taltoua and forces her to land by tackling her back. She brings him down in a rage, flinging herself into a lake, trying to shake him loose and then climbs from it, Nightwing is still attached. He falls off finally when she shakes the ice chunks from her mane. The lake had been covered in a layer of ice. Holding his hand up to her, he forces her to change into her human form using magic.
Taliessa bellows out, which turns into a scream as she shrinks down to her knees in the field. A series of fissures curtain the area with steam. She sobs again; hugging her knees to her naked form as a simple chemise appears, covering her. She was too upset to make anything elaborate to wear. He steps over to her, crouching down before her and sets his hands upon her shoulders.
“Taliessa, I did what I was bid to do.” He lies but narrows his eyes, sensing something. “You carry his seeds and the council would have him, you, and the offspring destroyed. You know that.”
Taliessa looks at him in shock. White trails line her cheeks where her icy tears had fallen. He had to be lying. He had to. She shakes her head mournfully. She wasn’t in season; there was no way for her to have conceived if she wasn’t in season.
“Believe me. It is the truth, but I couldn’t kill you. You know that.” His hand slides up her neck to her jaw, cupping it to lift her gaze to his. “Come with me. Be with me. The council will never know this ever happened.”
Taliessa watches him in pure hatred. Listening to his words which were making her feel sick or perhaps it was the fact she would need to find a rookery today. Her hand swings up, finding its mark upon his cheek as her anger grew within her, and her simple chemise turns into a long gown.
“How dare you speak to me in this way! You
murdered him in jealousy and will be damned by the gods! You murdered him! I
loved him and you murdered him!” She felt as though she were losing it again
and sobs the words as she speaks. “Be
gone from my sight and I never want to see you again lest I curse you into the
pits of oblivion!” She shoves at him to
get him away from her and changes her form back into that of a dragon, leaving
the
Taliessa speeds towards a small group of homes with one road, in an unnamed village, just barely north east of Taltoua. Her sorrow consumes her. She can’t go back. Landing a mile out of the village, fearing she will scare them, she walks the mile into town, collapsing finally at the hut bearing Io’s symbol. It is a small temple of sorts, meant generally for private worship, and the priest steps out, lifting the collapsed girl and brings her into the hut to rouse her.
Waking up when she feels the water splashed down onto her face, she rolls over and is sick. The man blinks, watching this girl, as her stomach contents reach the floor, containing what appears to be platinum.
“Oye, hey, what did you eat metal for? No wonder you’re so sick.” He hands her a rag, and a dipper of water.
“I am a dragon, young priest of Io. I am in desperate need of your help.”
The priest was terrified suddenly backing away, but when Taliessa sees this, she breaks down crying again, sobbing out her story to him. She begs him not to leave her, and not to run. She promises that she eats no meat and needs only dew and metal or rain water. The priest finally settles himself down and introduces himself.
“I apologize Lady Dragon.” Apologizing and kneeling before her as she lays on one of the pews. “I am Berdinad, a priest of Io as you know already. I am at your service.”
“I need a cave or some place I can make very cold…where no one will bother…and it needs to be very large. Is there anything of that sort here?”
“There are in the mountains, perhaps, but not here in the village.”
“That will be all right I suppose. For now though, I think I need sleep.” Taliessa closes her eyes. The flights on top of everything else had exhausted her.
Nightwing glowers as he watches the two red dragons fighting amongst themselves over who would lead in this attack, and finally points to one to choose him. With a smirk on his face, he leads the dragons back north towards the small village. The dragons dive down to the nearest rock quarry and grab fistfuls of brimstone, eating it. Their chests expand and their scales shimmer bright red in the mid-morning sun. For all the beauty that a red dragon holds, they are just as evil. Their horny ridges along their spine are stiff like a fish’s dorsal fin, able to lift and lower depending on their rage. When they were angry, it would raise, shaking a little as the dragon hisses. Now as they fly north, hissing and shaking their fins, one bellows a line of fire down upon a random hut, setting it ablaze.
The priest of Io, Berdinad, had sent people out into the mountains, and by the time the noon sun was overhead, they’d found a cave suitable and uninhabited, for Taliessa to use. Taliessa wakes, sitting up on the wooden pew and looks around. The hut is large, but small by great comparison to a lair, and very warm. Incense and potpourri jars are burning at the alter and settled around a large stone statue of a dragon which is supposed to represent Io himself. She stands, settling her gown around herself and walks over to the alter, making the sign of Io, then collapses to her knees begging for his forgiveness.
“I am sorry Lord Io. I never intended any of this but I see now that your words were right.” She sniffles as she speaks, feeling the tears come again. She couldn’t stay in this form and she knew it. By tonight she’d be heavy with the eggs she’d need to lay. Already she felt them starting to form. “I know the council said only disaster would come from this but I didn’t know…I didn’t know…my Lord, he is dead! Your angel…Nightwing! He killed him!” She bends over her knees, her arms wrapping around her waist as her forehead touches the front leg of the statue.
Berdinad steps in, hearing her sobs. The priest walks over to stand beside her and waits until Taliessa has calmed and quieted.
“What is your name, Lady Dragon? So I might better address you.” He asks.
“I am Taliessa, the Cloud Dragon.”
“A rare site at that then.” He was obviously amazed. “Very well then, Taliessa, a cave has been found for you. I’d like to help you though in any way possible.”
Taliessa stands and nods to the priest, wiping the cold frost from her eyes and face.
“Your lives are endangered by harboring me here. Tell no one that I’ve come. There is an angel by the name of Nightwing; he may even know I am here now. You’ve no idea of the great peril I may have brought by coming here.” She was ready to burst into hysterics again.
“Calm yourself. You need food, and rest, and by the looks of it, salvation.” He’d overheard her words to the idol. “I will give all of those to you. Can you eat human foods as you are now?”
“Aye, I can.” As she says this her stomach growls and she blinks, her arms moving to encircle it again.
“By the sounds of it, you could use it. Come, my wife and our children will be eating lunch by the look of the sun. You are welcome to eat with us.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.” She realized that this was a very small village and one that wasn’t likely wealthy.
“Absolutely. Your name, though, is very Draconic. How shall I introduce you?” He thought to himself after he asked.
“Tali. I am sometimes called Tali.”
“Very well, Tali it is. Sounds more Elvish, really. It suits you. This way.” Berdinad leads Taliessa out of the hut, giving a smile.
Taliessa watches him as he smiles and heads for the opening to the hut. Something about his mannerisms put her at ease. She’d never actually spoken to a human unless it was to warn them away from a hidden bottom entrance to her lair. Lishala had contact with them sometimes, when one would come to Seixuso to worship at the temple. They were not so disagreeable when in their own territory.
They follow a dirt worn trail through the muddied snow, a light flurry falling, though it didn’t hinder Taliessa in the least. Berdinad drew his hood up over his head to cover his long red braid. Many of the men and women who were human in this area had red hair. It was the same for those in Shareem. Taliessa doesn’t ponder on this for very long, as they approach a log cabin style building with only small slit windows at the top of the walls to let in light. She recognized this construction. It was new. They would cut windows into the wood come summer and then thatch it together to place it back into the holes for the cold seasons, and to protect against rains and winds.
Coiling from the chimney in the roof is a light gray-white smoke, and the smell of bean stew can be smelled with corn meal bread. Taliessa’s stomach growls again and Berdinad pushes the door open, stepping inside. Immediately four small children run at him and tackle him; three of them, girls ages four, five, and seven. And there is one boy around six years of age. Taliessa smiles, watching this display of affection, noting how similar it is to a clutch of hatchlings tackling their parents while playing. Berdinad crouches down and hugs the four children, while a woman steps away from a wood burning stove, spotting Taliessa and freezing. The woman is half Elven, Berdinad’s wife, and knows Taliessa immediately for what she is, nearly dropping the pan in her hand. She wasn’t sure whether or not to fear her or be amazed. Taliessa offers the woman a smile.
“Hello.” A simple phrase, Taliessa speaks, trying to calm the fears and put the worry to rest in the woman. The children don’t seem as interested. “I am Tali.”
“Sylvia, this is Tali. Tali, this is my wife, Sylvia.” Berdinad smiles, though he notes that his wife has a look of recognition upon her face.
“Tali, I am very pleased to meet you.” Sylvia’s eyes water lightly, misting over with tears. She’d need to speak to her alone later, but was truly honored to be in her presence.
“Likewise, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Tali smiles again and looks down to the children who had noticed the visitor now.
Around Taliessa, it seems that there is a glow, lighting their dark cabin. The youngest little girl watches her for a moment and then reaches out, touching her dress, which is soft as silk, then hugs onto her. Taliessa smiles, gives a chuckle and reaches down, setting her hand upon the child’s head. The others watch, but do not approach.
“Hello little one, what is your name?” Taliessa asks the child.
“Marie.” The child responds, looking up at her. “Are you a princess?”
Taliessa laughs and shakes her head, looking to Berdinad who gently pulls the child away and lifts her into his arms.
“No. Your father has invited me for lunch. I am a traveler, who was lost in more ways than one. I found my way to his temple.” Taliessa explained.
Sylvia moves to the small table in the one room cabin. Taliessa looks around at the building with its two beds, one where the children all sleep, two at one end, two at the other, and the bed where Berdinad and Sylvia sleep. They are off on one side of the house, with a clothes line strung across the room, dividing it into 2 rooms using fabric and furs, hanging on the line. A small wooden table with benches sits in the other half, with the wood burning stove, and two wooden chairs, very rigid, seated near the stove.
“Please, have a seat.” Sylvia suggests as she motions to the table with a bowl of the stew and mug of fresh cow’s milk sitting upon it.
Taliessa sits at the table and thanks Sylvia, blowing across the bowl gently which cools the stew quickly and tiny frost covers the top. She stirs it quickly to hide this fact and takes a bite of the stew. She’d never had bean stew, though in her human form, preferred vegetable.
“This is wonderful, thank you. I’ve never had this before.” Taliessa sips at the broth of the stew.
“Thank you and you’re welcome. Not many things grow well in this area yet, though we’ve had luck with beans and a few other legumes as well as potatoes.” Sylvia sits down after filling the children’s and her husband’s bowls, then her own, taking a few bites as the others begin to eat as well.
Taliessa listens to the family speak, asking her questions every once in a while and she answers each to the best of her ability without coming out and admitting that she is a dragon. She didn’t want to frighten the children and dragons often scared humans. After lunch, Sylvia was able to pry the youngsters away from Taliessa to usher them outside to play, while Berdinad heads back to the temple. Sylvia comes in from outside with a bucket of water from the well and dumps it into a wash basin, washing the dishes.
“I know you’re a dragon. I hope you don’t mind my saying.” Sylvia comments.
“No, I don’t mind. I didn’t want to frighten anyone so I assumed the name Tali. It’s the nickname I go by sometimes anyway. My name is really Taliessa.”
“You’re a Cloud Dragon.” It was said more than asked.
“Mhmm. How did you know?” Taliessa asked.
“My mother is from Seixuso. I have seen you flying overhead, I believe.” She sets the dishes off to the side to dry when she’s finished.
“It could have been my daughter, Lishala. She goes to the temple, and is a priestess from time to time there.”
“Oh? You have children? You look so young.” Sylvia walks over to sit at the table to sit down again. “Don’t mean to be rude, but it looks like you’re expecting again?”
“Aye, I am. I must go soon to the mountains to a cave. I cannot return at this time to Seixuso. I’m in danger. And anyone I come into contact with is in danger as well. I don’t want to burden you and your family, or this village.” She pressed the message to Sylvia, scared, and hoping she would realize the danger that was now upon them.
“You’re in danger?” Sylvia’s eyes enlarge, her fingers wringing at the apron around her waist. “What sort?”
“An angel…evil though…he killed the one I loved and I witnessed it this morning.” Taliessa tried not to cry again but it was an impossible task. “He’s after me now. I cannot return or I will put my daughter in danger. I am sure he will kill me. Kio was attacked this morning. I tried to stop the attack and then I heard him…” She stops, looking down at her fingers. “Kio needs help.” She sniffles and nods, and Sylvia hands her a handkerchief, which Taliessa wipes at her eyes, the tears stiffening the cloth with frost.
“We have no defenses here. You don’t think he will come here really, do you?”
“I think he will. I’m almost positive of it. And he will destroy everything.”
“I need to go. I still need to prepare a place for my
eggs. I can’t tell you how much I
appreciate everything.” Taliessa stands, again wiping at her face. “My daughter is Lishala. If something happens to me, tell about it to
those in the
“You really think you’re going to die?” The question was strained. She didn’t want Taliessa to die. Her mother’s people had been brought up to know and respect dragons, and her mother had passed this on to her as well. She felt she sort of knew Taliessa too, from seeing her flying over head.
“I don’t know. For your own safety, don’t go into the mountains. I would let you in, though if Nightwing, the angel of night, shows up, he wouldn’t be so kind.”
“Tali, I wish there was something more that I could do for you. I am going to Seixuso immediately. I will tell the people there. Perhaps someone can come and help you.” She stops and slips a necklace off from around her neck, placing it around Taliessa’s neck. It bore the symbol of Io which is a sort of cross, the bottom tip elongated and thinning like a dragon’s tail, and the crossing segment is almost the shape of an eye, with pointed ends, and the top of the cross has an oval like a head. It looks more like a dragon’s outline. “Here, you take this. You need it more than I do right now.”
Taliessa lifts the symbol and smiles though she starts crying again. She couldn’t help herself. Sylvia slides her arms around her and pulls her into a hug, hushing her softly like she might one of her own children. Taliessa cries on the woman’s shoulder. The end of her little world seemed as though it were coming. In some ways, she was right.
Nightwing and the two red dragons stop in Addreyna, a city southwest of their destination, near a very large, very deep lake, to eat and drink. They’re at the halfway point, and fierce. The two dragons attack each other, in a sort of but not quite, mock play. Any people nearby flee for their lives as clouds of searing flames burst in their direction. Nightwing sits back against a rock, watching the dragons with a smug indignation. These beasts weren’t worthy of his company yet he chose them. He knew their egos must be highly inflated.
After receiving a few small gifts from Sylvia, including a dagger which made Taliessa laugh inside (she didn’t want to be rude by outwardly laughing at a gift), a cloak to keep her warm which Sylvia insisted upon despite Taliessa explaining she preferred the cold, and the cross which she wore around her neck which brought tears to her eyes, she walks alone towards the mountain cave, following a path that is taken by mules and carts but ends up too steep to go much further for them. The climb isn’t bad, compared to her normal lair’s location. The icy path is bothersome, as she’s barefoot and slips a few times, but it starts to get too steep and she changes her form again back to that of the dragon. Out of sight from the tiny village, there’s little chance they’ll see her pale body against the white snowy cliffs.
The cave comes into view and she crawls up into it, feeling the sun of the afternoon through the swirling snow, beating down upon her, making her feel warm. Much more comfortable in this form, she inhales deeply, taking in the scents in the cave, holds her breath registering the smells, and then releases the icy frost cone of air, coating everything with a white layer of frost. There is nothing in the cave and knows it from the smell of it. Shallow and small, it would have to do. Making her way to the back, she locates a set of large boulder rocks and moves behind them, freezing everything around them, and lies down. She feels exhausted. Her body like dead weight with the burden she carries, and the strain she’s been through. Curling up she weeps again until she falls to sleep at last, sleeping for an hour or so. When she awakens, it’s to pains. She was ready to lay her precious eggs, which she knew would likely never hatch.
* * *
As evening is creeping over the lands of the area, another snow storm hits, and up the side of the mountain climbs Sylvia, with little trouble. She reaches the edge of the cave and peers into the darkness, able to hear the sound of a large creature breathing, and the unmistakable smell that humans find repulsive. A smell that is a mixture of dragon’s musk and metal, though in this cave, it’s very heavy, as Taliessa had laid her eggs. Picking up the scent of Sylvia, Taliessa lifts her large head and her eyes gleam through the darkness, a pale blue, peering at her as she tries to determine who it really might be. Dragon paranoia was often or usually common in a fresh mother who’d just laid. Sylvia stops, hearing the sound of the slow and heavy breathing stop, and sees the eyes glowing watching her.
“Tali, it’s me, Sylvia. I know you said not to come, but I had to check on you. Are you all right?”
A long sigh escapes Taliessa, in relief, filling the cave briefly with a cold steam that falls to the ground almost like snow. She has no strength or energy to change into her human form right now. Slowly standing, she slides out from behind the large boulder rocks and comes out into the main part of the cave.
“Yes, I’m all right. I’m very tired and very weak. You shouldn’t have come. You’re endangering your life.” Taliessa lays down there on the cave floor.
“I know, but I wanted to tell you that messengers were sent immediately after you left, to go to Seixuso.” She walks towards the dragon figure, eyeing her carefully in awe.
“You may come close. I’ve never eaten a person before.” Taliessa says and chuckles watching Sylvia. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to change until morning.”
“I cannot believe I am this close to a dragon. How many hatchlings are you expecting?”
“There are three, at the back of the cave.”
“I wish there was more I could do for them than try to find someone to take them north. I know of no one traveling. And I wouldn’t trust anyone.” Sylvia pulls her cloak around her more.
“At the point they’d need to go north, trust wouldn’t be an issue. No matter what, they will not hatch if they stay here. And they will need someone to care for them. My daughter, Marguerite, lives in the north. Though, I doubt she would care for them.”
“Why? Why wouldn’t she care for them?” Sylvia asks in curiosity. It doesn’t make sense to her that a sister wouldn’t care for her siblings.
“They are Umaga’s, the Mist Dragon, and well, the dragon’s council of elders has said that two dragons of different species cannot bear offspring. It is against the dragon law. The hatchlings are usually destroyed.” She added the last part on in a pained way.
“That’s ludicrous. And it’s not fair. That would be like saying elves and humans could not have children or marry. I would not be here if that were the case.”
“I know, but it is the dragon way.”
Taliessa sighs and a mist of tiny snow flakes fill the room. Her scales, usually shimmering, are dull and almost gray. Sylvia steps over to her side and runs her hand over her cold scales, feeling the coarse yet soft thick hair-like fur that trails down from her spine line a mane. The same hair covers her paws and the bottom half of her tail and some hangs down from her chin. Umaga had been the lion-type of dragon with the lion’s head and long thin body, with shorter legs, where Taliessa is the common dragon. Only gold and mist dragons have that lion form.
“Your scales are so smooth, and your hair reminds me of the great white bears of the north.” Sylvia comments, before hugging onto Taliessa.
Taliessa croons softly as Sylvia hugs her. Such a simple act, this hug, but it meant more to her than she could put forth into words. Scared and trembling inside, she knows that if Nightwing is on his way, he will be here tonight, or perhaps tomorrow. Sylvia smells of fresh snow, her hair slightly damp from it since she’d walked up the side of the mountain on the trail while it was snowing.
“I know I’ve not known you long at all, but your coming here really does mean a lot to me. And I am truly sorry for what might happen.” Taliessa gently nuzzles the woman.
“Don’t apologize for something that hasn’t happened. Everything will end up working out one way or another.”
“Take that dagger by the cloak against the wall over there and cut off a lock of my fur. If something happens to me, give it to Lishala so that she will believe you and know you to be a friend.” Taliessa lays her neck down so that her mane might be reached.
Sylvia walks over to the bundled cloak and lifts the dagger, bringing it back over. Her fingers slide through the mane; there are no snarls in it anywhere. She knew now why the elves treasured their dragon hair ropes. Bringing the dagger up, she wraps her fist around a lock and cuts at it with the blade. It’s incredibly difficult to cut through. Stronger than anything she’d ever felt before, but she manages finally to get a little.
“When I am killed, my body will vanish into a pile of snow or a cloud. So there will be no way to prove I was even here.” Taliessa explains.
“You sound so certain that you will die…” Sylvia puts the dagger back and pockets the fur.
“I am. Nightwing will not want me to say what I saw…which is why you are now in danger too. You must not accuse him, ever. Tell no one you even spoke to me. Tell them I scared you, and that I stayed here in the mountain, away from the people.”
“There is a celebration tomorrow night. It is of the New Year. We light a bon fire, and cast possessions or items we feel are bad luck, into the flames, then there is music and dancing. Come to the celebration as Tali. Be a guest of the temple and dance with us. Perhaps it will bring you luck as well.”
“I shall see how I am feeling. And who knows, Nightwing could’ve come by then.” Taliessa finishes and Sylvia runs her hand over her side again.
“Alright, promise me that if you can, you will.” Sylvia insists as she walks towards the opening of the cave, then heads down to go home.
“I promise.” Taliessa stands and turns, moving back to the back of the cave again, to lay with her eggs.
The messenger who was sent to
Seixuso rode as fast as he could from the moment he was notified of the
message, heading towards the tiny
* * *
The sounds of chopping wood and the smell of smoke fill Taliessa’s ears and nose as she wakes in the early morning. A little disoriented at first, she looks around, realizing again the terrible things that happened yesterday, and that awaited her for today. No sign of anyone on the slopes around her cave, she slips out through the opening and looks around.
“Umaga, love, I fear today I will be joining you. Come and find me to take me. It is your face I want to see, and your arms I want to fly into when death takes me.” A breeze sweeps up around her as she stands there, facing up to the unforgiving sun of dawn. The faint smell of metal and dragon musk is carried in it, and she wonders if it’s her own scent, or Umaga’s which she smells. It brings tears again to her eyes which she blinks away. The sounds of children playing outside travel up the sides of the mountain and bring a small smile to her muzzle.
There is no sign of platinum in this cave, nor any other metals. Climbing down closer to the valley below, she finds a tree and laps at the frozen dew that sits upon the barren branches. It isn’t enough, but it would need to be good enough for now. Climbing back up, she breathes in deeply and fills the cave with her icy breath, again coating all with frost. She steps over to the eggs and does the same to them, making sure they’re coated well, then leaves the cave, changing back to the human form that the village would accept better, though this time assumes the clothing of a common villager. Donning the peasant dress and leather looking foot coverings, she climbs down the steep, snow covered path to the village, approaching the cabin of Berdinad and Sylvia, then knocks softly upon the door. Sylvia answers.
“Tali, I wasn’t sure you’d come.” She smiles brightly in surprise upon seeing Taliessa.
“I wasn’t sure I would. I’m glad I did though.” Taliessa smiles and Sylvia invites her in for some breakfast and to tell her about how the ceremonies would go tonight.
The messenger woke, frantic and yells out Lishala’s name, over and over. He has to get that message to her. Hearing his cries, the healer dashes into the room to settle him. She lifts the dipper of water, which the messenger guzzles, parched and starving.
“Kio has been attacked! The priestess Lishala’s mother is in danger and in the small village to the northeast of Taltoua, almost due north of Senesse.” Again he drank, gasping for air after. “I was sent by the Priest Berdinad of Io.”
Immediately, the healer called in another messenger who knew Lishala and Lishala would trust him enough to bring her a message. The messenger left immediately, riding south to Lishala’s lair and climbed as far as he dared go, before releasing a falcon to carry the message up. Lishala saw the falcon and the note, and changed into her own human form, seizing the note from the bird. Reading it over, the falcon flies back down to the messenger and she quickly changes again, leaping out of her lair to fly towards the small village, the noonday sun slowly sliding across the sky.
Nightwing and his two red dragons
had stopped in the
“Wait here. If I don’t come back by sunset, fly to the village and do as you will to it.” Nightwing sets out towards the village. His nighttime dark blue wings spread, appearing nearly black.
Lishala’s wings beat as hard as they will, carrying her as fast as they can, against the south blowing winds, coming from the north. The snow is blustery as she crosses over Taltoua, casting her immense shadow across the fresh snow, scaring many people who duck indoors. Her long mane stretches the entire length of her spine, unlike her mother’s whose covers just the head and neck. And it ripples in the strong atmospheric winds, allowing her to sort of cut through more naturally, not having to fight at the currents so much. From the joints of her legs down over her feet is the same furry hair, whereas Taliessa’s paws only are covered. It allowed her to walk upon the snow more than Taliessa could, especially when it was very deep. And it kept her warmer. Though the cold did not bother her, she still was more comfortable when in her dragon form, if she had a sort of covering. In her human form, though, she had no need of such things as her body temperature was warmer more naturally.
Already there were signs of escapees from Kio, traveling to Taltoua, and she noted that it didn’t appear any were hurt. This was good. Though she didn’t feel her mother should be with Umaga, she didn’t feel he deserved death, either. It pained her to know that her mother was scared and alone, and most likely in danger…possibly dead already. She pushes on past that thought, and out of the village territory.
Taliessa laughs, watching the children as they practice their dancing to the music that is now already beginning as lunchtime is past. The thought of Nightwing, not quite vanished from her mind, is pushed back, as she tries to enjoy what would likely be the last day of her life. As she moves to the draft barrel, a villager ladles out some of the stout for her and she sips from it. The taste of the beer is odd. She’d never tasted such a drink before. Her evaluation of it is, however, interrupted when gasps come from the edge of the southern part of the village, with shouts of people calling that an angel had come. Nightwing crosses the village, low, searching out Taliessa and then lands before her. Dropping her cup to the snow, she stares at Nightwing as he folds his wings down against his back, and the villagers stop their music, moving back and away. Children are ushered off into cabins. Berdinad sends Sylvia with the children to the temple, though Sylvia stands outside the door, watching.
“Nightwing…” Taliessa’s voice finds her small and frail, scared.
“Taliessa, I’m not going to hurt you. Can we talk somewhere?” Nightwing reaches out, taking her arm in his hand and pulls her along towards a vacant cabin while Berdinad begins to protest. Nightwing’s hand move out and he stops the priest by placing his hand upon Berdinad’s chest. “Don’t interfere.”
Berdinad stops and Nightwing pushes Taliessa in through the doorway of the cabin, closing the door behind him and then grabs her by both arms, pulling her against him to speak very low to her, face to face. Taliessa cringes; he is squeezing her arms tightly. Still weak from the day before, she tries to pull away but he manages to hold her there, giving a bit of a shake. She doesn’t want to shift into her dragon form, or she will destroy the cabin they are in, and she cannot get her hands up, or she would use her frost powers upon him.
“Now you listen and listen well. I know what you saw. Umaga needed to die after what you two did. You should die too but I don’t want to kill you. I’m going to get his spirit…and then I will be able to change into a dragon too. Then my dear, we can finally be together…” His voice lightens as though he were trying to woo her with his words. “You won’t need to live alone in that lair, and no one will ever try to steal anything because I will be there too. Don’t you see? I’m doing this for us.”
“What I see is a madman standing before me. You aught to be damned and thrown down from your position as an angel for the hell you’ve brought upon my family. I thought you were my friend but it was just a jealous infatuation! Let go of me or I swear it I shall scream and then those villagers will come in and attack you.” Taliessa spits her words at him.
“Let them come! And then they will see what a harlot you really are! No one respectable will have anything to do with you. So scream…let them hear your cries. Let them know just what sort of a woman you really are…nothing but filth. Dragons are not meant to mingle in the human world, Taliessa. And they aren’t supposed to mingle with dragons not of their ilk.” Nightwing snarls at her while speaking, chewing his words to make them mesh in her mind as he pushes her down onto the bed, slapping her across the face.
Taliessa grabs at her face as she curls up from being slapped and pushed onto the bed. Her mind mulls over the words he’d said, and can’t sort through them to understand them. She isn’t familiar with human ideals completely. Nightwing approaches the bed, and the door is shoved open by Lishala in her human form. Nightwing turns, looking over to Taliessa’s daughter. Her hair is darker than her mother’s but she’s nearly identical in every other way.
“It would figure you would be about, mingling with the humans, Lishala.” Nightwing smirks, sneering at her.
“I am a priestess of Io and I will not allow you harm her.” Lishala lifts her hands, casting a spell to summon a flock of birds, which rush in through the windows, knocking their blocks out of the sills, and swarming around Nightwing. She grabs her mother’s hand and pulls her away from the bed, towards the door.
Outside, screams can be heard, and when Lishala opens the door, she sees why. The red dragons hadn’t waited. Through the sky like comets they streak, igniting the barren trees upon the mountain side, and the air begins to fill with smoke. Taliessa wraps her arms around her daughter.
“Lishala…go…please. You have hatchlings yet to hatch. Two Cloud Dragons against an angel and two Red Dragons have little to no chance. Flee…save your life.”
“Not while you’re so weak. What has happened to you? Why did you not fight Nightwing a moment ago?” She pulls her mother along towards the open snow covered field so they may change.
“Sylvia…Berdinad…they have to be safe!” She changes the subject quickly, stumbling through the deep snow as Lishala holds her arm.
Nightwing manages to free himself from the cloud of maddening birds, seeing the flames in the afternoon sky. Growling he takes flight, heading straight towards the two Red Dragons. They have disobeyed his command.
“I told you to wait!” He bellows but the red dragons hurl their flames towards him. He maneuvers to be missed by the fire.
“Nightwing hired them it would seem.” Lishala comments as her form shifts into her dragon form.
“It looks like he’s lost the reins.” Taliessa follows suit, changing into her dragon form as well.
“Indeed. You go on fire watch, and I’ll see about fighting off those Reds. If there are no fires, help me.” Lishala takes wing, trumpeting up towards the two red dragons.
Lishala watches the people running for their lives, unknowing where to go. The village is remote with few places to run to and no lake for her to scoop water up, should she need to put out large flames. Sylvia, carrying her littlest child Makenna, runs out towards Taliessa, the child clinging and crying in fear of the situation.
“Tali we’ve no where to go!” Sylvia cries.
Taliessa tries to keep watching Lishala as she goes to face the red dragons. When Sylvia approaches, she looks between the two. Where could these people go? It seems hopeless and then Taliessa looks down at Sylvia. Makenna was terrified and Taliessa felt suddenly like there was no other choice than what she could offer.
“You must go to the cave. Take everyone, there’s little time, go now and don’t look back.” Taliessa turns to move away, readying to take flight but stops and looks at Sylvia. “Be safe.” That said, she hurries away, the ground rumbling as she gallops enough to take flight.
Ardonis, the leader Red Dragon, slams into Lishala as they lock their fingered paws together, and Lishala brings her back claws up, raking at Ardonis’ stomach. They fall as they battle, still locked together. Their figures spin, while Folth, the other Red Dragon, dives and begins setting the cabins ablaze. Smoke and sparks roar up into the sky, stinging and burning Taliessa’s nose and eyes. She snorts and shakes her head as a hot ember hits her muzzle and then flies straight up towards the clouds above. Breaking free of the cloud cover, she inhales the icy air, and then dives again.
The flames sizzle as she releases an icy blast of frost towards the flaming cabins below. Sylvia passes the message along to the others and, as a group the twenty families flee the area, heading towards the mountains to seek shelter. Taliessa watches them a moment but feels a massive weight strike her back, flinging her towards the ground where she smashes into one of the wooden buildings below. It stuns her for a moment, and she lies there, stretched out on her back. That same weight falls upon her; Folth roars, readying to breathe his fire down at her face, but Taliessa beats him to the punch, issuing forth the stream of frost breath towards him. Quickly, Folth rolls off of her, crushing the small hut of a cabin even more.
A ways away from Taliessa and Folth, Lishala and Ardonis slam into the ground. Their tails and flip-flopping bodies send logs from buildings cascading with their struggles. A bite to Lishala’s front leg makes her bellow out as the icy blood hisses as it hits the snow, dying the ground near them a crimson red. She kicks at Ardonis with her back feet, using all of her mite, and sends him flying and sliding when he lands, half buried in the snow. Standing up, Lishala leaps at Ardonis, tackling him further into the snow and clamps down onto his neck. The searing hot blood fills her mouth and she immediately releases, but the damage is done to Ardonis. She’d collapsed his jugular. Scurrying back and away, she watches as Ardonis thrashes about, unable to breathe until finally, he slows, then lies still, and finally closes his eyes. A moment later, his body catches fire and it burns down to nothing, leaving nothing but burned ground, and bloodstained, and melted snow.
Crying out, Taliessa feels the sharp pain and pressure in her lungs as Folth digs his claws into her chest. She uses her neck, tail, and back legs to shove him off, but can’t seem to catch her breath well as she begins to charge at him. She collapses to her stomach, and Lishala finishes off the job for her, killing Folth in a similar fashion in which she’d killed Ardonis. Turning to her mother, there’s no way to deny something is very wrong.
“Mother, roll over!” Lishala cries out.
Taliessa coughs as she rolls over, blood beginning to drip from her mouth, staining her pale lips. Folth’s talons had punctured both lungs; she is drowning slowly in her own blood, and her lungs are collapsing. She covers the wounds with her arms as Lishala leans over her, beginning to cast the spells to heal. However, she’s not strong enough, and there is no way to remove the blood from within them.
“No…Lisha…it’s done.” Taliessa smiles, looking past her daughter as her pupils are beginning to dilate. Lishala cries, casting spell after spell until she has no spells left to cast.
Walking over to them, yet leaving to marks upon the snow is the ghostly figure of Umaga in his human form with a broad smile upon his face. Lishala cannot see him, but Taliessa begins to cry and laughs softly. She lays her head down in the snow, closing her eyes. Her body tries desperately to cling, gasping for breath, and then stops, and her form calms, settling. Lishala stops her crying and lifts her head from her mother’s chest, her mane stained red with the blood, and the body of Taliessa condenses into a cloud, which rises up, into the clouds. Standing from the spot the body had been, Taliessa’s human form looks at Lishala who cannot see her, and then over to Umaga.
“Umaga!” She cries out, but only he can hear her. She runs over to him and he opens his arms to her, wrapping them around her in a ghostly embrace, and they vanish together.
II. LISHALA & NIGHTBANE
January 3, 1331
Lishala sat in the red snow for over an hour after her mother vanished from that very spot, while Nightwing stood watching. He finally walks over and sets his hand down on Lishala’s shoulder and she yanks it away quietly. The villagers creep timidly from their hideout, following the trail, only to see that their village is nearly completely destroyed. Sylvia holds tight to Berdinad as fires smolder themselves out, and there is only sign of two beings. One, the angel who had taken Taliessa away during the New Year ceremony and the other a woman she assumes is Taliessa’s daughter.
Lishala looks up at the people, as she sits quietly crying, and they weep loudly, moaning about homes lost, yet none of them were harmed. Slowly, she stands, turning to face Nightwing. The color of her eyes are blue, but they burn into Nightwing’s soul when she sets her gaze upon him and he takes a step back away from her. Here was a dragon that had defeated two red dragons, single handedly. She wasn’t one to mess with. Lishala had always been more powerful, and larger than her mother. She was stronger than her other siblings as well, and as Nightwing watches her, he can’t help to fear what she might have in store for him.
“You killed her.” Her tone flat yet harsh, deep in her throat as though she were spitting poison at him.
“No, I didn’t intend for this. Not like this. I told them not to come…” He rattles on, trying to come up with some excuse that actually excuses him but Lishala interrupts.
“These people lost their homes because of you! And my mother lost her life! You attacked Kio! And you killed the Mist Dragon Umaga!” She was near hysterical now and reaches down, lifting a kitchen dagger, ripping it across her palm with a wince. She begins to walk, slowly, in a circle around Nightwing. “Io will see you damned, you foul creature. You belong in the abyss with the other demons!” She cries out to him.
“No don’t!” Sylvia isn’t sure what Lishala is doing but it meant more bloodshed apparently, and she didn’t want to see more blood spilled here. Lishala ignores the pleading.
“I was acting upon the orders of your very own Dragon Council.” Nightwing explains.
“What orders? My mother did nothing wrong. She and Umaga knew the consequences of their actions. Being friends with a dragon of another species was not against the rules, only mating.”
“Your mother didn’t tell you.” Nightwing laughs darkly.
“Tell me what?” Lishala stops, though she’d completed a full circle around him. On the ground is a trail of blood, making a blood circle that surrounds him. She cradles her hand against her body; the arm of that hand is injured as well from being bitten by the Red Dragon.
“You noticed how weak your mother was. It’s not season time for you dragons but yet, your mother and Umaga sure thought it was.” He sneers the words in hate, jealousy and anger.
Lishala looks at Nightwing, shocked. He was claiming that her mother and Umaga had mated? That she was weak why? Had she nested? Where? Why didn’t her mother tell her? Suddenly it becomes even clearer just how twisted Nightwing is and she narrows her eyes, looking over to Berdinad.
“Priest, lend me your powers to combine with mine. We have a call to Io to make.” Lishala demands.
Nightwing blinks, looking down at the blood stain surrounding him. He’d not realized what she was doing when she’d done it. His mistake. He moves towards the line to cross it and the moment he attempts to cross the line, a blue blast strikes him back to fall. Lishala looks back to Nightwing, hearing the sizzling sounds that lash out at him.
“Stay where you are you beast.” She turns her attention from the angel to the skies, now darkening with evening’s arrival. “Lord Io I call upon you to come and judge Nightwing, the angel of darkness and night!” She sinks to her knees, clasping her hands before making the sign of Io.
Berdinad assures Sylvia and then steps over to stand beside Lishala, before he kneels down into the bloody snow, making the sign as well. Nightwing crawls up and bangs against the invisible wall that surrounds him, yelling when he’s hit. His blonde hair begins to pale with each strike until it’s no longer blonde, but white and the angel collapses, his fists bloodied from hitting, and his wings wilting, with black and blue feathers falling to surround his prostrate form. He lays his face in the snow, giving in. The spells goes on around him, and he closes his eyes, unknowing what lies in store for him.
When he
opens his eyes, he’s laying on the cold marble floor of a familiar place.
A giant fireplace adorning a wall is lit, and before it, a small figure
compared to it, sits, warming his hands. The hall is massive.
Almost an endless ceiling, and the wall so far spaced, one can scarcely see
them to either side. He stands, looking around, knowing exactly where he
is, but he wonders what will happen.
“Nightwing, come and sit.” The
voice of the small figure fills the hall, deep and always certain, always
demanding.
Without a word, an objection,
or resistance, he walks towards the figure. The man’s hair is long,
strawberry blonde and in a braid down his back. At his side is a woman so
cold, so white, that Nightwing would’ve thought she were a piece of the white
marble floor made into a statue if he hadn’t known she was Tu’race, the White
Dragon. The evil look in her eye towards Nightwing makes him narrow his
own, and the one sitting beside her, Lord Io, dismisses her. She gathers
her stark white layers of dress, re-wrapping them around herself, and stands,
giving a slight bow before tip-toe running off towards the servants’
quarters. Nightwing sits beside Io, quietly.
The sound
of the crunching snow as Lishala’s face hits it echoes in the quiet afternoon
air. The flight, the fights, the
emotions, and the spells had taken their toll.
She’d exhausted herself. Weak
but still stable and strong, Berdinad recognizes this and lifts her unconscious
body from the wet snow. They all need a
bath, but now’s not the time to worry about such things, blood soaked or
not. Sylvia herds the children all
together to go play with other children who were cold, scared, and antsy, all
being watched over in a sheep pen. The
sheep had all escaped during the chaos. Only
three cabins remained standing of the twenty-two that had been. No longer being owned by the ones who lived
in them, they were used for the housing the sick and injured, for holding and
storing the food and tools, and most children with a rotating set of parents in
the third, to keep them warm. There were
only two ill in the make-shift clinic, and Berdinad carries Lishala in, laying
her upon a fur on the floor. One of the
women of the village comes over treating Lishala’s wounds on her arm and hand,
and cleans her up as much as possible.
Sylvia sends Berdinad out to check on Taliessa’s three eggs, telling him
to bring a sign with the symbol of plague upon it, to set it before the opening. She hopes it would keep people out.
Already
people are clearing out the destroyed wood and piling it into multiple
pits. They’d intended tonight to have a
single bonfire, but they would have more.
Silently they work, sullen, knowing the loss that has happened is more
than just possessions and buildings.
Sylvia leans over Lishala crying, as Makenna curls into her lap, sucking
on her thumb. She only leaves her side
when called into a meeting with the other townspeople. Just before the setting of the sun, the
people meet, held near one of the roaring bonfires to help them keep warm.
“We
cannot let what has happened to us prevent us from rebuilding here on this very
spot. All in favor of
moving on? Trying a new location?” The man speaking before the fire
questions the people.
“Nay. We stay.” Berdinad answers as he
approaches. He’d only just
returned. “Tali might’ve been amongst us
for less than a full day, but she fought and gave her life to save every single
person here. We can’t desert the site
now. We need to stay.”
Many of
the people answer in agreement. They’d
all met and shared smiles with the girl they had not known was a dragon, named
Tali. And they knew she had given her
life for them, as they stowed away in her small cave, huddled. No one had discovered the three eggs; only
Berdinad and Sylvia had known of them and they had been the first in, keeping
everyone away from the back by telling them there was an open ledge. They hadn’t been in there long enough to
really have a chance anyway. Sylvia
watches her husband as he sort of takes charge of the meeting.
“We need
to rebuild, here. We need to protect
this ground that has had so much blood spill.” Berdinad explains. Sylvia steps over to her husband’s side.
“And we
should call the village, Tali.” She
offers up the suggestion.
The
consensus agree after some, though little, deliberation. The village would be known as Tali. Lishala had awoken moments before, watching
out the door at the meeting, feeling weak.
She smiles lightly as the people speak, making a mental note of
this. She would remember it and the
kindness of these people for her entire life, and would tell her children of
the village as well.
* * *
August 28, 1489
Lishala smiles as she watches the procession taking place. Her daughter and her son, Marita and Malchior, were being ordained as high priestess and high priest of Io in Seixuso. They had been in the seminary since they were still hatchlings, learning the ways of Io and his teachings. Now, she felt proud as she watched, though sad that her mother could not be here to see this. She had told them last night, the story of their grandmother, in hopes it would fill them with an honor that she herself had. Not pride, but honor to have been related to Taliessa. However, she’d hid the dark secret of the gem with her for all these years. She knew Umaga’s dragon spirit was trapped within, and that his human spirit was the only part of him that had gone on. Often she’d dreamed that it was no coincidence that this happened. Dragons were creatures of a split voice, meaning they had two voices. One voice was an ominous one, deep and metallic, and the other more human, or angelic. It had been his fighting dragon spirit that had been trapped. Not his soul, but a power so true to him that it was quite nearly a separate being on its own.
As the ceremony ends, she walks with her daughter to her room there at the temple, for Marita had been living there with Malchior since they’d been very young, maintaining the lair had been left up to Lishala. Marita changes into her usual working robes and sits upon the bed with Lishala in her human form upon the bed as well. Lishala pulls a cloth wrapped package out that’s tied with a bow and hands it to Marita.
“I want you to have this.” She says to her daughter.
Marita takes the package and unties it, opening it and her eyes open wide as she looks at her mother. Within the folds of fabric is a necklace made of gold, with the cross symbol of Io, and within the wings is the marquis shaped gemstone that Taliessa had taken from Umaga’s ring.
“There’s a story behind this necklace, Marita. The gemstone is cursed, but you must wear it close to your heart and never take it off. Pass it on to your children in the future.”
“But if it’s cursed, won’t I be cursed as well?” Marita asks.
“No. You see, the curse has already claimed someone. Do you remember the story I told you last night, about your grandmother, Taliessa, and the Mist Dragon, Umaga whom she was in love with?” Marita nods. “Somehow, someone gave him this ring, and when he died his dragon essence was trapped within. My mother must’ve known or she must’ve felt it was somehow important; important enough that she told me to keep it hidden just before she died. Now you must bear this burden, and keep it hidden and safe. The necklace is a symbol of Io, and makes for a rather fitting gift on this occasion. Let people think that that is what it is.” She smiles and cups her daughter’s cheek. “I love you and I am so proud of you and your brother.” Lishala grew misty eyed and hugs Marita to her.
“Thank you…I don’t know what more to say.” Marita sniffles lightly. The story had choked her up last night and this made it worse.
“Say no more. I need to go give your brother his gift too. They look the same, though his is with a diamond, while yours is the cursed ruby. So bear that in mind. Never lose it.”
“I promise, I won’t.” Marita nods to her mother.
Lishala stands and leaves the room, walking down towards Malchior’s chambers, and she stops before the door, knocking. Her own clothing is that of a long white robe, one a priestess would normally wear to a ceremony, as there had been today. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, with a headdress to cover it, so only her face and hands show. She smiles when Malchior answers the door and he is ecstatic, reaching out to hug his mother immediately. He had dreamed of this day for as long as he could remember.
“Mother! Come in! I have a gift for you!” Malchior pushes the glasses up on his nose gently. For whatever reason, in his human form, he needed a pair of spectacles to read, though he spent so much time with his nose buried in books, that it was no wonder.
Lishala enters the room. Unlike Marita’s, his is much more disheveled, full of papers, books, and drawings of the land that he could see out of his high level window. Malchior had always been the scholarly type, and he walks over to a large stack of books, climbing onto another to reach the top of the tall one, and pulls down an old book, with leather tied bindings. He hands it to her gleefully before jumping down. Lishala opens it and her jaw drops. The book is full of watercolor paintings, some done by Malchior, but many by other artists as well. He hurriedly makes her flip to one near the back, and there, staring at them is a painting of the human form, of Taliessa, with her name scribbled underneath in ink, drawn and painted by a woman named Makenna.
“I thought you might like all of these…but especially when I saw that one.” He explains to her.
She says nothing, closing the book, then hugs the book for a moment before hugging her son. Now she is speechless. She’d come to give him a gift, but it was a mere trinket compared to this book.
“Son, there are no words to express how much this touches me…I brought you a gift too but I fear it’s merely trivial by comparison.” She pulls the package out for him, handing it to him. Malchior opens it but Lishala merely grabs hold of him, hugging him again.
* * *
Her trip to watch her children’s ceremony had been perfect. Clutching the art book as she leaves, she heads towards the open field used for dragons to come and go, setting the book down upon a nearby rock. Her form shifts into her natural form, and she spreads her wings, stretching out in the evening sun. Lifting the art book carefully in her talons, she clutches it and heads south for home. Her wings beat down against the ground, gaining her enough lift to get off and up into the air, straining to raise her massive body. She passes over the deep green forests of the valley, moving higher into the clouds until she breaks out over them, the clouds a carpet beneath her.
Lishala has to stop short, and turns upright when the form of another dragon thrusts its way up through the clouds before her; another Cloud Dragon. At first she growls, hissing out at the other beast. How dare a male enter into her domain without her permission when it wasn’t the time of the Dragon’s Season. The male had zipped up past her, and she’d faulted below the clouds, climbing back up to find this being. Slowly she hovers in the bank of clouds, craning her neck around to see the intruder. As suddenly has he had appeared before, he tackles her from behind, giving a playful growl. He had been standing on the cloud, waiting for her to do just this, as he knew her all too well. Lishala trumpets out in shock at being tackled, but laughs as soon as she catches his smell. He latches onto her mane with his teeth to hang tightly to her and his front legs wrap around her waist section, below the wings, so he doesn’t hinder her flight.
“Nimith you tramp! I could’ve attacked you!” Lishala chuckles, leading them down onto the ledge of her lair and as she lands, he detaches and then pounces her, knocking her over to her back.
“So attack me then, Lisha.” He grins as he speaks. The book she was carrying slides away onto the coins and gems, and he gnaws against her neck. “But not like this. You’re much bigger than I am like this and could easily overcome me. Change into an easier form.” He offers the suggestion as his own form shifts into that of a man, with long white hair.
Lishala changes as well, and she laughs laying there. Her skin pale, white in contrast to her blue hair, which is darker than her mother’s had been, and darker than her children’s hair as well. She grins as she watches him pretend to restrain her, and she acts along being so-called restrained against the coin-littered floor.
“So now that you’ve overpowered the powerful priestess Lishala, what’re you going to do with her, Rogue Nimith?” She snickers.
“I’m going to keep you still so I might have a moment alone with you. I so rarely get that anymore when I come around and it’s not during the season.” He lays there against her, his hands sliding down away from her wrists and he pulls his fingers through her hair. “So I heard rumor that Marita and Malchior were ordained as high clerics today?”
“It was no rumor, love.” She snuggles against her mate. “Nimith, are you going to come here for the Autumnal Equinox?” She grins and waggles her brows a little at him.
Nimith catches the look and tone of her cooing voice when she asks him her question and breaks down laughing. Reaching a hand down he tickles relentlessly at her stomach, the other braces himself for the kick or hit he’d be likely to receive. Lishala begins laughing when he tickles her, squealing before she rolls over onto her side facing away from him to escape the torment.
“Is that all you think about, Lisha?” Grinning as he asks. “You’re worse than a male human. And trust me, that’s bad. Well, I suppose it’s bad, though it’s not so bad for me.” He curls up against her from behind, wrapping his arm around her and nuzzles his lips against her neck.
“Do I? All the time? I hadn’t noticed…” Her words drift as he kisses at her neck. “Maybe it’s because anytime you come around, it’s for only one thing. You’re such a tramp.” She laughs, shrugging her shoulder against the kissing as it becomes too intense. Their human bodies had advantages and disadvantages.
The sound of thunder echoes outside the lair, far off in the distance, though it’s rolling in towards the mountain. The summer storms always hit Seixuso and the surrounding area hard, but left the land green and fertile. Outside the lair, the rain begins to hit the dry cliffs, soaking into dirt, and it fills the air with a strong breeze, floating the shushing sound, which seems to silence all. Nimith rolls Lishala over towards him, gazing down at her. He loved her and lied to her constantly. Quite the braggart, he claimed to be off with other females during some of the seasons, when in reality he sought solitude, all to make himself appear more appealing to her, fearing she might not choose him if she thought he wasn’t picky enough to choose her. It was all mind game but he loved her deeply. He had, however, not shared the same feelings about Umaga and Lishala’s mother that many dragons had. He’d never voiced it before except to Marita on occasion when she had come to him with questions. He’d told her that he felt that one cannot help whom one loves and it wasn’t something to be ashamed of. He grieved deeply when they’d been killed and when Lishala had returned from the small village, he didn’t leave her side for over 25 years. Leaning down now, he kisses her gently. The lips of a human were so soft compared to those of a dragon’s, and they held such intimacy, which dragons could not. A nuzzle just wasn’t the same as far as he was concerned. She pushes into the kiss, pulling him down against her as the steam rises from the hot ground below in the forest, when the cold rain hits it.
* * *
As the storm succumbs to the summer heat again, passing on towards Taltoua, Nimith watches Lishala sleeping. He hadn’t actually come here just for this, but there was something about Lishala that he loved so intensely, that he could deny her nothing. They had been close since childhood, as his mother and her father had been cousins, making Lishala and Nimith second cousins. He knew her father and Taliessa were never close. Dison, Lishala’s father, was a council elder, but had been killed just two years ago in a battle with humans. Being on the council had been one reason that Taliessa had been so reluctant to join Dison in being lair mates. Nimith wanted so badly to be Lishala’s lair mate. He had asked her time and time again, but each time Lishala had said no. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, for she does, but she felt a great need for privacy, harboring the gem all these years. Nimith knew nothing of the gem, but he knew one thing, he wanted her. Lishala rolls over against him and wakes, smiling up at him.
“Hey, you’re still here.” She stretches as she speaks.
“Yeah, I actually came to talk.”
“I like your conversation style.” She grins and tickles his knee.
“Hey now!” He laughs and squirms as she tickles his knee. “I’m serious. I have some things to confess to you.”
“Confession is held in the temple, not in my lair, Nimith.” She frowns and sits up, pulling her knees to herself, leaning back against the wall of the cavern.
“It’s not like that, Lishala.” He catches himself growing angry with her that she couldn’t be more serious when he was but calms. “Lisha, we’ve been together for so long and I know there’ve been many times I’ve claimed to have gone off with other women, but I wanted to confess that I hadn’t. I just wanted you to think I was more desirable of a mate. The truth is that I want us to be lair mates. I know I’ve asked you several times, but really, Lisha, I mean it. I want this for our children who seem to no longer need us, but also for us. I can no longer stand being away from you.”
Lishala stands and steps outside onto the cliff. A slight breeze that always seemed to follow the storms in this area catches her and tumbles her hair around her ears and shoulders. She crosses her arms in thought. Now that the gem was no longer in her possession, she was free from it and the knowledge of the curse. The cold air this high up did nothing to her though she wore no clothing. As a dragon, what would clothes matter? The human form she assumed meant very little to her in that way, and it was the same with Nimith’s form to her. His arms slide around her waist below her crossed arms as he steps up behind her, pulling her close.
“Lisha, please?”
“I’ll give it some thought, Nimith.” She leans herself back against him. What am I so scared of? I love Nimith and he loves me. Lishala thinks to herself but Nimith frowns at being told once again that she would give it thought.
“Fine.” He sighs and pulls his arms away from her waist. “One hundred and sixty years, Lishala.” He steps away from her and over towards the edge of the cliff, his small human form growing, paling, and changing into his dragon form. “I don’t know how much longer I can go like this. I don’t have someone else lined up or anything like that, but this is really tearing me up.” He spreads his wings, readying to take flight. “I’ll let you decide, but I want an answer this time. I can’t do this anymore.” Depressed and disappointed, he jumps off the cliff, catching the updrafts that shove into his wings from the side of the slopes.
Lishala couldn’t concentrate to get in a word in edgewise. Though she heard him, her eyes were focused elsewhere. Some sort of a dark form was a mere dot, but could be seen near the mountaintop of Marita’s and Malchior’s lair, what used to be Taliessa’s. Her eyes watch it, thinking it’s perhaps an eagle or other such creature. She blinks lightly, Nimith’s words sinking in at that moment and she calls after him.
“Come back tonight! I will tell you tonight.” She shifts her figure back into her dragon form, looking again at the dark object flying in the north. Her voice echoes across the canyon below with the response she had given to Nimith. Nimith’s form grows smaller and smaller as he heads west, and she dives off the cliff, flying towards the lair which had been her mother’s once, and is now her children’s. Climbing up above the cloud cover, she steps lightly upon the clouds, walking over them as though they were land. She leaps from cloud to cloud where there are gaps, her furry feet getting wet with the moisture they held, though bitter cold. It didn’t bother her any. As she nears the peak, which juts out above the cloud cover, the memories of her self romping amongst the clouds and playing on the ledge just outside the opening that was so high most could not breathe at the elevation. She stops, seeing the being break through the clouds and land on the ledge. Not an eagle, but this was a man with wings. She doesn’t recognize him though. Who was this? Pulling in the scent of the being from the thin air up there, she snorts. Nightwing. Her eyes narrow and she growls, stalking towards him, his back is turned towards her, and she crouches. As soon as she is close enough, she leaps at him, hissing.
Nightwing collapses under her weight and she holds her paw against his back, keeping him pinned to the ground. Hissing again, she sits so she can see him better. His hair is stark white, as though he’s elderly, and yet his face and body are that of a man no older than perhaps twenty five. Lishala smirks, thinking she’s got him and she growls down at him.
“Thought Io had taken care of you, Nightwing.” She pushes down more against him, hearing the sounds of his backbone popping.
“Thanks dear I needed that.” Nightbane chuckles, though his voice is strained, and his body begins to glow slightly.
Lishala feels a tingling around her scaled waist, which turns into an almost tickle, before she is yanked away by some invisible force, and thrown off the side of the mountain. Falling through the clouds, she manages to catch herself in midair. The wind had been knocked out of her and she is shaken but not injured. Darting back upward, she rams her way through the clouds, dragging them up with her. He is gone and no where to be seen.
Flying back towards her own lair, she remembers the art book that had been given to her by her son, and smiles. It had a picture of her mother in it, painted by a woman named Makenna, whom she could only assume to be the youngest daughter of Berdinad and Sylvia, the couple who had shown kindness towards her and her mother. It still hurt that Nightwing had betrayed her family so horribly. She was curious of why and furious that he was snooping around her mother’s old lair. Landing back upon her own ledge, she shakes off the dampness from the clouds and enters her lair, shrinking down to her human form. The book had been pushed off to the side and she looks around for it, finding it half covered by coins.
Stooping to lift it, she carries it over to a cushion made of velvet and feathers, and flops herself down onto it, watching a few feathers escape from a tiny hole in a corner. The book is old, so she handles it carefully, opening it to the page near the back with the painting of her mother in her human form. Closing the book, she starts from the beginning and flips through each page. Hundreds of paintings and drawings are in the book. She finds many by Makenna and begins to furrow her brow lightly when she notices two people who stand out in many of her paintings that have a lavender hair color; a strange hair color for a human or elf. She’d thought perhaps it had been a lighting issue but it was repeating itself. Finally she finds a sketch of a woman, not the one who had been pictured with the boy normally, but a human, perhaps, with lightly pointed ears, perhaps a half elf, or less. She had her arms stretched around the boy, kissing at his cheek. Continuing to look through she finds a painting by Makenna of an infant in the arms of the boy, now grown, and the child had pale white hair, and a strange complexion around the hairline. Later, the same child with the same collection, though in greater detail, is sketched. He was almost draconic. Lishala’s face pales and she flips open the book to the picture of her mother, then to the man and almost drops the book.
Nimith lands outside upon the ledge as the light is beginning to fade outside into evening. Lishala jumps up and runs to him, as he shifts his form to greet her. He’d anticipated perhaps a kiss or a hug or something, but instead is greeted by her grabbing his hand and yanking him along, into the lair. She practically throws him down to the cushion and shoves the book into his hands, flipping the book open to the right pages. Nimith looks at the pictures giving a chuckle at first seeing Taliessa.
“That’s your mother…and…that looks like Umaga but he looks like you too.” He blinks and looks at her. “Your mother and Umaga had children?”
“I…I don’t know…I was kind of hoping you’d say it was all in my mind.”
“You mean you’re not certain?” He asks.
“Well Nightwing had said they had, but I figured there’d be no way for the eggs to survive without her being there. I did check once, but there was one egg, and it was broken prior to hatching. I hadn’t realized there were more.” She explains.
Outside the lair, little do they realize the evil angel sits, listening in on their conversation. He narrows his eyes hearing the last part and looks off into the north. So Taliessa and Umaga’s children had survived. He had found the one egg Lishala was mentioning. He too, had thought that that had been all. Perhaps a little visit to the people of Tali is in order.
“You realize if the order finds out, they’ll want them destroyed. Lisha we can’t tell anyone. The pictures here show a man who has had children, and a family. It’s been over one hundred years. I’m sure he is alive, but his family has probably progressed and he likely has grandchildren and great grandchildren by now.”
Lishala thinks on this. She couldn’t tell the council. These were her half siblings. They were part of her and part of her family. She decided she wouldn’t let anyone destroy that and nods to Nimith.
“I want to meet them. Perhaps they don’t know anything about their parents. They should know they have brothers and sisters, and nieces and nephews.” She takes the book to look at the man’s picture.
“We could go to Tali and see if we can find them, but after so long, who knows where they will be.”
“I’d like that…and…Nimith, I want you to stay as my lair mate.”
Nimith grins brightly but tries to hide his excitement. He gives her a nod and takes her hand, kissing the top of it softly. This was what he’d wanted for their entire courtship, of one hundred and sixty years. Even Taliessa had pushed Lishala in their early years to take him as a mate, but Lishala had pointed out that her mother had not taken a lair mate, so why should she? He smiles again to the book then to Lishala.
“There’s more. Nightwing’s here. I saw him at the other lair a few hours ago. He was so strong though, and he can use telekinesis I think. Somehow he managed to throw me off of him in my normal form. So he’s really strong. Stronger than I remember him to be.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He stands and heads for the mouth of the lair, changing his form. “I’ll go look for him.”
Nightwing smirks and jumps down into the opening of the lair to reveal him self. Nimith growls and inhales to breathe a stream of frost, but Nightwing lifts his hands and shoves at the air before him, sending a ripple of power towards the dragon, which slams into him and throws him backwards into the lair further. Lishala stands and moves towards the front of the lair now to investigate and Nightwing smirks.
“Very nice, your body reminds me of what your mother’s used to look like. By the way, I’m no longer Nightwing, thanks to you. The name’s Nightbane.” He reaches out and clasps at the air, a chunk of Lishala’s hair is seemingly grabbed by an invisible force and yanked towards Nightbane, pulling her closer. She yelps and stumbles forward. “Io damned me and fell me no thanks to you.” He grabs her throat when she’s close enough. “The lovely thing about this is that I have no restraints to my powers to do evil. I’d not used any powers against anyone before for harm, but now, I think I’ll use you as my first subject.”
He uses his power to lift her, throwing her against the wall of the lair just before Nimith comes barreling towards Nightbane like an enraged bull, head down ready to strike. His ram connects and throws Nightbane out of the lair and over the cliff. Peering over, Nimith cannot see Nightbane anywhere, and it would seem that the fallen angel has vanished. He turns, changing back and runs over to Lishala, kneeling down beside her fallen form, and lifts her into his arms. Her head had been cut on the rocky wall, and she’d fallen unconscious. Carrying her over to the cushion, he lays her head upon it and lays down beside her, curling up with his arm draped over her.
“Lishala my daughter…” Taliessa’s voice echoes lightly in her mind as she opens her eyes, dreaming, yet unaware of it. “Lishala, honey…”
Lishala looks around and spots the ghostly form of her mother as a human woman. Standing from sitting amidst the clouds, she walks over towards her. Her mother is cloaked in a beautiful set of gown robes, her hair curled lightly at the ends as it hangs over her shoulders and falls around her face. Her entire body gives off radiance.
“Mom?” Lishala approaches her and stops before her. “What’s happened? Why am I here…why are you here?”
“Don’t worry, Lisha, you’re not dead. But I need your help. You cannot defeat Nightbane, and neither can Nimith, or Marita or Malchior. While Marita will be very powerful, her convictions to Lord Io will prevent her from doing such. Marita will have a daughter in the future, and Lord Io has told me that I will be reborn at that time.”
“What are you saying? Will be just be defeated then? Will Nightbane kill us as he killed you?”
“No. You need to take his powers from him into yourself, and bind them…and make sure he cannot get them back.”
“But that…means…”
Her mother smiles to her and reaches out taking her hands. Her figure begins to fade lightly and Lishala moves forward grabbing hold of her to hug her. She didn’t want to let her go. This had to be a dream but it was so real. Her head began to ache.
“Nimith loves you so much. I’m glad you had that. Now, wake my child…for I must go…” A breeze hits them and Taliessa’s figure ceases to exist, blowing away.
“Lisha…” The voice is a mix between her mother’s and Nimith’s. “Lisha?” This time it was definitely Nimith’s. “Lishala, love, wake up please.” It was morning, and he’d cleaned the wound, and gathered rainwater from an early morning shower for her to drink.
Lishala groans and her hand clasps onto his when he speaks. Opening her eyes, she looks up at him and examines his face, confused at first but then the pain comes to her forehead and she remembers the attack by Nightbane. The message she had received had to be a dream. She couldn’t possibly do all that her mother suggested.
“Honey, can you tell me what happened? Do you remember?” He asks.
“Nightwing…I mean Nightbane…he came and he threw me into a wall…”
He gives a nod and lifts a small wooden carved bowl to her lips telling her to drink from the rainwater within. She does, sputtering a bit, and then sits up to drink the rest.
“We need to go to Tali. If he overheard, he will go after the others and could kill them.” She manages to get the words out finally.
“We’ll go today if you’re up to it.”
“I am.” She replies with a resolute nod.
* * *
Kaleigha and Keagan sit watching
the soldiers training in the training field as the dinner fires and communal
fires are lit. Using a sharpened blade,
Kaleigha scrapes at a sheet of leather to remove everything from the hide,
putting the fur off to the side into a pouch, while Keagan sits carving a small
boat for a child, named Reece, who crouches watching impatiently, handing small
handfuls of sand to Kaleigha from time to time when she asks for it. Finishing finally, Keagan smiles, blows
across the hull of the little boat and hands it to Reece. Reece grabs it with glee and yells out a word
of thanks as he runs off to play with the other kids. Keagan chuckles, watching the boy, his own kin;
his son,
Kaleigha stands, brushing herself off and sets her hand upon her brother’s shoulder, a simple gesture without words needing to be said, that she was going to go and help with the preparations for dinner. They hardly ever needed to speak to each other. A simple glance and they knew what the other was thinking. Keagan gives a smile and takes the leather Kaleigha had been working on, moving to finish it. As Kaleigha walks through the street, she smiles, giving a wave to those whom she knows, and veers her way over towards Tabbitha who is peeling potatoes to put into a stew, throwing the peels into a barrel while she sits on the stoop of her house. Smiling, she walks over to Tabbitha and sits down beside her.
“Aunt Kaleigha, what are you and my grandfather going to be doing for dinner tonight?” She asks as Kaleigha holds her hands out to take one of the potatoes from her.
“I’m not sure. I thought I’d come and help you with Reece, and maybe go to the temple in Seixuso later. I want to ask for a blessing for you and the baby.” She smiles, taking her free hand and sets it onto Tabbitha’s belly before taking out her small cooking knife to peel the potato which Tabbitha had given to her.
“Really? Do you think the baby will come soon?”
“Yes I do. Look here…you’ve dropped.” She reaches down and rubs the bottom of Tabbitha’s belly. “Feel this hard bump? This is the baby’s head and he or she is readying to be born.”
“I have felt so jittery and nervous. Brackon keeps pacing while I knit. I know he wants another son, but I so want a baby girl. A daughter I can teach as you have taught me.” Said as she reaches down, feeling the head as she was told to do.
“Reece would be very excited, I think, to get a baby sister, and I think Brackon secretly would be too.” Kaleigha comments.
“I just hope it’s soon. I’ve been so light headed all day. I fainted twice yesterday.” She stands to move over and dumps her pot of peelings into the barrel.
Kaleigha blinks, catching the scent and looks to the stoop where Tabbitha had been sitting before looking back to her. The faint sweet smell she picked up was a clear signal. Not wanting to panic her, she stands as well setting the peeled potato into the basket.
“Why don’t I get these washed up for you, and you go sit and make yourself comfortable. I’ll cut up the potatoes and add them to the stew, too.” She commands to Tabbitha.
“Are you sure? I don’t mind really. I’m finally not so tired today.”
“I’m positive. You’re going to give birth tonight or perhaps in the morning.” She said it as though it weren’t a big deal, moving into the house to do as she said she’d do. “You should rest as much as possible.”
Tabbitha blinks, watching her great aunt as she carries the basket in through her doorway and follows. She’d learned long ago to trust her on these sorts of things, and grins, wanting to run around telling everyone. However, she decides against that tactic when the first pains hit and retreats to her bed instead, getting extra blankets out.
Keagan finishes removing all of the fur from the leather hide and folds it up to put it away when suddenly he senses a mental nudge made by Kaleigha and automatically knows what it’s all about. Looking around, he spots Brackon standing near the pub, laughing along with a group of men, and stands, walking over towards him. The group quiets when Keagan nears. He’s a large man, healthy looking in comparison to most, and stronger than most. His violet hair also stands out, making him stand apart from others. Most didn’t fear him, as he’d been with the village for one hundred and fifty six years, which is typical for an elf, even, but this was no elf and most knew that much. He and his sister, Kaleigha who presented herself as a healer, had some sort of psychic rapport that most realized existed, but no one understood. Keagan stops when he reaches them and smiles calmly.
“Brackon, Kaleigha is with Tabbitha.” Keagan leans forward, whispering the rest of his message into his ear, as it wasn’t always an appropriate conversation amongst men. “Your wife is in labor; the child will be here soon.”
Brackon is speechless and he jumps
a bit but clasps Keagan on the shoulder.
This was his wife’s grandfather and he respected the man greatly, more
than any other man in the village.
Brackon had known
As Keagan passes by Tabbitha and Brackon’s cabin and sees the women gathering at the front steps, and knows that it was sooner than the feeling he had received from Kaleigha suggested. Straining to listen, he can hear Tabbitha within and quickly turns his attention elsewhere. He had lost Alaura to childbirth and while every birth of a child was an exciting time, it brought fear to him, and this was his granddaughter. He moves on to find Reece.
Inside the cabin, Kaleigha moves quickly to get the fire stoked and the room warm, while Tabbitha lies on her bed, with her arms above her head, and her hands clasping a length of rope which Kaleigha had hung for her to hang onto. She rests her forehead against the side of her arm as her contraction hits, groaning through it, trying to keep herself in control and calm. Moving out into the kitchen area, Kaleigha finishes off the stew to make sure it doesn’t boil-over, and covers it in the fireplace to keep it warm, then moves back into the bedroom to see how Tabbitha is doing. It was obvious, as she sees the wet blanket beneath her on the bed.
“All right Tabbitha I need to see how you are doing. How often are they coming?”
“I don’t know…” Tabbitha can’t really put the numbers together in her mind, unable to decide anything. She shakes her head, closing her eyes, hiding her face in her arm as another contraction comes on only a minute or so after the previous.
“Soon I would say. Do you want me to get you anything?”
“What? I don’t know…I’m not sure…” She manages after the contraction subsides. Her breathing is beginning to become erratic.
“All right.” Kaleigha smiles and moves over to the window after checking her and opens the shutter where another woman is standing waiting to take any messages. “Go to Keagan’s home and tell Brackon that he will again be a father within the hour…” But her words are interrupted by Tabbitha’s yelling.
Figuring it’s just Tabbitha getting scared, she turns and inhales sharply. Standing before the bed, turned sideways so he can look between the two women, is a man with stark white hair, and large blue, almost black wings. Nightbane had appeared, smirking as he looking between them. The child of the woman he had been in love with and the man he had murdered in cold blooded jealousy, Kaleigha, standing there in such shock is particularly enlightening to him. And then he looks to the woman on the bed, the granddaughter of one of Taliessa’s children, readying to birth a great-great grandchild of Taliessa’s.
“Get out! I don’t know who you are but you can’t be in here right now!” Kaleigha yells at Nightbane. Tabbitha begins to panic and bear down, and Kaleigha shoves her way past Nightbane.
“You are the daughter of Taliessa…I knew your mother since the day she hatched.” Nightbane says to Kaleigha, though his words aren’t sentimental. He spits them at her as though they were words of hate.
“I don’t have time to talk of this, you need to leave! Someone get in here and get this man out of here!” She yells at the window. Nightbane begins to laugh.
“You are just like your mother, even if you never met her. Your sister is worse, though.” He sneers.
“Just stay calm, Tabbitha…the baby is already crowning…” She turns and shoves, pushing Nightbane towards the door as she escorts him. “I said get out of here, now!” The door opens and two women are there to get Nightbane, but falter upon seeing him, and both turn, running to leave the house.
“Aunt Kaleigha!” Tabbitha yells giving another push and the baby is delivered.
Kaleigha rushes back over to her and moves to wrap the baby girl into a blanket as she cries almost instantly. Working to dry her off to help keep her warm, she hands her to Tabbitha and takes the twine, wrapping it around the cord in two areas. She hadn’t intended for Tabbitha to deliver the child lying in the bed, but sitting on a birthing stool as was the norm, but this had been so quick there hadn’t been any time. She’d not labored more than an hour and didn’t really push. Within moments, the baby is free of her mother and safely in Tabbitha’s arms. Kaleigha finishes, wraps up the afterbirth in an old fur blanket, and hands it out to a woman outside who was in charge of disposing of it. By the time Kaleigha turns around to return to Tabbitha’s side, Nightbane is standing beside the bed, reaching down to stroke the baby’s forehead gently while Tabbitha clings to the child in fear, thinking this man to be a reaper or death himself.
“A man in the room of a laboring woman is bad luck. You don’t belong here and she needs to nurse so leave now before I take action into my own hands!” Kaleigha didn’t trust this being.
“A midwife in the room of a laboring woman in many cultures today is considered evil. Where is the doctor?” Nightbane counters.
This seriously angers her and she again escorts him with shoves towards the door, and slams the door once he’s out of the room. Taking a moment to calm herself she walks back over putting on a smile for Tabbitha who was still clinging to her daughter.
“He isn’t death and he isn’t the reaper. You’ve nothing to fear. I am here and will not let him harm you or the baby. Now, give your daughter a name so I may give it to the runner, and your husband may go door to door announcing it.” She smiles to Tabbitha who looks down into the face of the now nursing newborn.
“Her name is Mariah.” Tabbitha smiles and looks up to her great aunt.
“A beautiful name, Mariah. I’ll go tell it.”
She goes back to the window and gives the name to a woman outside, who in turn quickly heads off to give the name to Brackon. After, she comes back over to check up on Tabbitha to make sure there’s not too much bleeding, cleaning any soiled linens and the like. As she stoops over to pick up a fallen scrap of soiled fabric, something catches around her neck and she gasps, unable to breathe. Tabbitha screams as Nightbane’s form appears standing hunched over Kaleigha, with a thin yet strong rope around her neck. She grabs for the rope but can’t seem to get it away from her neck. Struggling for air, everything begins to go dark and then something hits the back of her neck. Kaleigha collapses unconscious, the sounds of Tabbitha screaming, echoing in her ears.
* * *
Flying with Nimith, Lishala felt a
joy and freedom that she hadn’t before and when Nimith tackles her mid-flight,
she can’t help but laugh. Her head was
still sore, though in this form, and in flight, she could forget it for
now. Evening is just settling in over
the horizon and as they near Tali, flying over Taltoua, the smells of cooking
meats fills the air, mingling with the scent of burning wood. This was Lishala’s favorite time to fly
because she loved that scent, especially as fall was drawing near. Looking down over the
“That was Nightbane.” Lishala says, motioning towards the speck flying away.
“Want me to go after him? Beat him up?” Nimith grins a little.
“No, I want to see what’s going on down there.”
Lishala slides down into a downward spiral, circling the village below. The moment she comes into sight, people begin to run. They were skittish these days about dragons because of the two red ones that had gone down in the village’s history as destroyers. Lishala, however, knows this and yells out as she comes near.
“I am Taliessa’s daughter; I’m not here to harm you.”
Some of the people stop panicking but still, some duck for the cover of their homes or nearby buildings. Coming down to land outside the village, she and Nimith quickly change their forms into a more human form, and hurry into the village towards the house where there had been a crowd. She sees a woman filling in a hole and approaches her.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“A birth. Who are you?” The woman looked at Lishala with some distrust.
“Lishala, the daughter of Taliessa.”
“The dragon?” The woman’s tone changed. “Why then, come! It was your kin born today!” Leaving the shovel there, the woman takes Lishala’s hand, slightly in shock, as she follows her along, Nimith trailing after her.
As they near the house, a scream comes from within. Kaleigha woke to find the body of Tabbitha in the bed, her throat slit as well as the infant Mariah’s. Shoving herself into the corner, sitting on the floor, she had screamed until she couldn’t anymore, and then sobs. Keagan, who’d been pacing, unknowing and not understanding of why he couldn’t get a clear answer from his sister before, now dashes out of his house, running with Brackon following. Nimith breaks in the door for Lishala who shoves past him and through the main room into the side room, throwing the door open. Kaleigha screams again, thinking it is Nightbane again, cowering with her arms over her head.
Lishala and Nimith turn to Kaleigha as she’s screaming, but when Lishala sees the woman and newborn on the bed, she turns, grabbing Nimith, and buries her head against his chest. Kaleigha shivers and continues to cry, and Keagan finally runs into the room, almost pushing Nimith and Lishala out of the way as he does.
“Keagan!” Kaleigha cries out scrambling to her feet to cling to him. Keagan doesn’t know what to do he’s verging himself but Brackon comes into the room next and he has to stop him.
“Brackon stop! Don’t!” Keagan tries but Kaleigha is clinging to him and he has no way to physically stop him.
Most of the village outside begins to find out what’s going on and people start to crowd into the house. The two women who had been called on to get Nightbane out of the room are found and give a description, to which Lishala quickly gives Nightbane’s name.
“That’s Nightbane…or Nightwing as he was called over 150 years ago when Berdinad and I sent him back to Io to receive punishment when he brought two Red Dragons, destroyed this village, and killed my mother, Taliessa! He’s strong and he’s out for revenge against my family!” She was quite shaken.
To be back here in Tali, and walk in, seeing a girl who looked so much like her own mother, with pale violet hair, screaming in terror, then finding a slaughtered woman and new born on the bed covered in blood was extremely difficult. Nimith holds tight to Lishala, trying to keep her calm, stroking her hair. Brackon was being restrained by two other men who’d come in to pull him off of his wife’s body. One of the other women in the room had left, wailing, talking about Reece and how he’d be motherless. She’s nearly plowed over though when another woman in hysterics, covered in blood, shoves her way in through the door.
“Brackon! Brack…” She stops short seeing the scene and screams yet again. One of the men in the room slaps her and pulls her into an embrace telling her to calm down. “Reece!” She sobs. “Reece is dead!” The woman yells.
“What?” Hollers Brackon as he’s now trying to get over to the door.
“It was the angel of death!” She sobs. “It came in and we couldn’t stop him!”
This causes Kaleigha to cry even more and Keagan sinks down to his knees with her, unable to help crying into his sister’s shoulder. Their entire world was in this village, and their entire family was with Keagan’s grandchildren and great grandchildren. Lishala narrows her eyes and pushes out past the people crowding and runs out to the village square, with Nimith following behind her. She stops, looking up at the nighttime sky and searches it for Nightbane’s form.
“Nightbane!” She calls out, turning a circle, her fists clenched and her eyes scanning. “Nightbane you get down here and face me! Where are you?”
Her voice echoes throughout the street and Nimith wraps his arm around her waist. A few of the people, including Keagan and Kaleigha gather outside the house, and a dark figure drops down before Nimith and Lishala.
“Nightbane…” Lishala hisses out his name.
“Lishala, it’s been a long time since we stood nearly in this exact spot…what was it…one hundred and fifty eight years ago?” He looks over, noticing Keagan and Kaleigha and grins. “Lishala, have you had the chance to meet your brother and sister? Umaga and your mother as I told you before, had children, but I don’t think you actually believed me. Well meet them now, they stand there.” He pointed to the two who huddled together, watching through tears. Lishala looks over towards them and then back.
“I should’ve killed you back then but Io would’ve cast me into the abyss! You leave my family alone!”
“No! Not until all traces of Umaga are erased out of your mother’s bloodline and all who were of witness are eliminated.” Nightbane seethed as he spoke.
“You are insane!” Nimith speaks up, yelling out his anger.
Nightbane flings his arms out and
sent a blast of power at Lishala and Nimith, which in turn sends them flying
backward into the crowd of on-lookers. Screams
arise from the people, and several fall to the ground under the couple’s
weight. Laughter mars the night as
Nightbane spreads his wings, flying up and out of sight in a matter of
seconds. The mournful crying continues
inside the house over the deaths of the night.
Brackon sits weeping silently inside now on the floor beside the bed,
apologizing over and over to
“I am Lishala…your sister.” She looks between the two of them. “My mother was your mother, and you have another sister and a brother as well.”
“The girl in on the bed…was my granddaughter, Tabbitha,” explains Keagan. “We were told a little about our mother. And we had a picture of her once, until a caravan came through back in the 1500’s. They took everything that seemed of value to them, from nearly half the village before we chased them out.”
“We need to talk about the man who was just here. Not out here though.” Lishala looks around, cradling her wrist a little.
“This way.” Keagan says quietly and leads them towards a small cabin he used as a workshop for his carvings.
Nimith wraps an arm around Lishala’s waist, eyeing her wrist that had now turned a light purple and swollen. He’d seen that before in humans usually when they had a broken bone. Lishala just pretends she doesn’t notice it. Following them to the cabin, they enter and Keagan lights one of the lamps, pulling out stools for them all to sit on. Kaleigha silently sits, though she stares at the floor. Taking a seat as well, Lishala keeps her broken wrist on her lap and out of sight, while Nimith sits beside her.
“So who is this guy and why did he…do this?” Keagan asks, looking over to his sister who stands. “Kaleigha?” he watches her.
Kaleigha looks more pale than usual and suddenly feels ill. Holding up a hand a bit to show she’ll be right back, she steps towards the door, needing air. Nearly there, she stops and collapses, fainting to the floor. Nimith leaps to his feet and picks her up, as the others stand as well.
“Kaleigha…is she okay?” Lishala asks quickly.
Keagan rushes over to Nimith, setting his hand upon his sister’s face, tapping it gently. When she doesn’t respond, he clears off the table and Nimith lays her upon it, bunching up a coat he takes from the hook upon the wall to place beneath her head. Lishala leans over her newly found sister and with her good hand, reaches up, resting her fingers against her cheek.
“She looks so much like my mother…our…mother that is. Must’ve been the traumatic shock of the evening…will she be okay?” Lishala frowns, looking over her with concern.
“I think so. I don’t feel any distress coming from her.” Keagan furrows his brow, setting a kiss to his sister’s forehead. He could sense feelings from his sister, and had felt her dizziness before she’d fainted. Sitting back down, Keagan motions for the others to as well. Reluctantly, they sit, worried still about Kaleigha.
“So who is this guy?” Keagan insists.
“His name is Nightbane, but one hundred and sixty seven years ago, he was known as Nightwing.” Lishala watches Keagan’s eyes widen. He knew the name well. “He brought the red dragons which destroyed Tali, and killed our mother, and your father.”
“We’ve heard of how our mother died, but never knew anything about our father, except that he was a Mist Dragon and his name was Umaga. Our mother told Berdinad, a priest of Io, about how he was killed, but Berdinad never really told us much since we were so young.” Nimith responds.
“He was a very respectable dragon who lived in Kio, watching over the village there. The people adored him and would go to him for all sorts of advice. He was a very good man. Our mother was very much in love with him but the Council says mixed species aren’t allowed amongst Dragon kind. They said that dragons of varied kinds couldn’t mate. And usually they are rarely looked upon with much enthusiasm when they merely associate with each other. Being a Cloud Dragon and a Mist Dragon, this was the case and their love was kept hidden to most. The closest to them knew. Nimith and I knew.” She motions to Nimith when she speaks. “Marguerite and Donneshay, our sister and brother, knew and were angry, so they left. And Umaga had sons who knew as well. They were not happy at all about their romance. I disagreed purely on the principle of fear of the council. I didn’t want to see anything bad happen to them. Nightwing…the man who was here and now calls himself Nightbane; he was in love with our mother. I tried warning her, and so did Umaga. She turned a blind eye. He killed Umaga and our mother witnessed it. She came to me in desperation and gave me a small gem which she’d taken out of his ring, and then came here. I did what she told me, and hid the gem, but I knew there was something about that stone that wasn’t right. She knew it too. I received a message the following day and flew straight here, but I got here a moment too late. Nightbane had found his way here, and was after her. I tore him away from her, and we fled for the skies, but two red dragons came and destroyed most of the village and killed her. I killed them both and despite the taboo about killing an angel, I would’ve killed Nightwing had I the chance. I was weak, injured, and out of most magic. Berdinad assisted me and we did what we could, sending him back to Io himself. I thought Io would have enough brains…excuse my anger…” She made the sign of Io. “…to punish him more than just felling him. He’s back to kill you two…because he hated Umaga. He would’ve killed anyone who was related, and apparently, he has. And I’m so sorry for it…” Lishala finished and Keagan sighs, while Kaleigha slowly stirs.
“This is all that dragon council’s fault. If they weren’t so scared of what’s different, they wouldn’t have put out that rule, and then they could’ve just been together, and maybe Nightbane would’ve left them alone.” Nimith adds to Lishala’s information. Keagan nods, agreeing with Nimith.
“I…think it was Io’s.” Kaleigha says mumbling in her drowsiness. The others look to her in surprise that she’d spoken, and even more surprise that she was blaming Lord Io. “Lishala said she and Berdinad sent the angel to Io…” She opens her eyes and slowly sits up; Keagan helps her to sit. “But Io didn’t do anything to him except what? Remove his title? His rank? It would appear he still has powers. There’s nothing keeping him from attacking us. Io should’ve done more.”
Everyone sits in silence now, unable to argue against Kaleigha at the moment. Nimith still felt the council was to blame since they were the cause of Umaga and Taliessa not being able to be together. Something that Kaleigha stuck in her mind. Nightbane still has his powers. She stands and sighs.
“Nimith, I need to go to the great library in Seixuso and see if I can find some spells about bindings. Also spells about immortals. Think you can watch over Keagan and Kaleigha?”
“No.” He smiles. “I’ll go for you. You stay and get to know your brother and sister. I’ll go find Mari and Mal and see if those two can get as many books as possible together having anything to do with powers, angels, and immortals.” Nimith brushes Lishala’s hair from her eyes and gives a nod when Lishala smiles.
“Thanks, Nimith. Tell Marita and Malchior I send my love.” Lishala kisses him as he takes his leave, and he bids the others farewell. Lishala turns to her siblings and sits, talking as Keagan puts a kettle on the fire. He knew Brackon would be here soon, having no where else to turn.
* * *
As the night begins to turn into the dusky morning, Brackon sleeps on a rug, curled near the fire under a fur blanket. The bodies of Tabbitha, Reece, and the newborn Mariah were wrapped and were being prepared for a ceremonial pyre for burning already, and through the sky at the wee hours of the morning are three dragons, heading for Tali. Nimith, Marita, and Malchior soar over the village, making a pass around before landing, changing into their human forms. Walking along side their father, the twin Cloud Dragons help to carry the load of books which had been nothing to carry in their dragon forms. Lishala had been sitting by the window all night long, though she’d been talking to her brother and sister as well. She found them to be so young in their thinking and yet so familiar with humans that they could’ve easily passed as humans, and often did, in human society. This made them incredibly intriguing. Kaleigha often told others she was merely part of a supposed joke curse to turn her hair purple. Catching the sound of Marita speaking to Nimith, she looks outside and sits up. Kaleigha had healed her wrist, much to her surprise. She hadn’t ever known a dragon that had the powers of a healer, though she’d heard of them. Sliding up past Kaleigha who is sleeping, with her head upon the table, and Keagan who is carving a hope chest with deeply intricate details flame sealed into the wood. She unhooks the latch of the door, and steps outside, running over to Nimith and throws her arms around him in a hug. She’d been worried that Nightbane would attack. Next she seizes her children and hugs them as well, taking part of their load of books, and leads them back to the workshop.
Marita had marked one of the books in particular which she thought held a spell that would work. Getting inside, she smiles to Keagan. Nimith had told her about how he was her uncle and Kaleigha was her aunt. She gives a nod to him and sets the books down, and Keagan nods in return, putting his carving tools away. Like Kaleigha and Keagan, Marita and Malchior were raised around humans primarily. Human tools and customs were commonplace and so while Lishala felt out of place here inside this tiny workshop, Marita and Malchior didn’t seem to notice. Immediately, Malchior went on the hunt, thrilled with the amazing carvings and toys with working wheels that Keagan had created. Marita takes Lishala’s books and sets them down and Nimith does the same from Malchior as he passes by.
“Mom, here take a look at this…this one in particular I felt would work. However it could be dangerous. I could do it though…it wouldn’t be much to cast a spell of this nature and…” Marita starts, though Lishala interrupts.
“No. I’m not letting you get hurt. In fact, as soon as Nightbane shows up, you and your brother are leaving…with Keagan and Kaleigha.” Lishala looks at her younger brother and sleeping younger sister, sternly.
“I couldn’t leave you to fend off this village from that beast alone, and it was my granddaughter, and great grand children who he killed.” Keagan argues gently.
“Our mother died for you. Literally. My other sister and brother…our parents were not in love. Mother and Umaga…they were. You were born of that love and I will be damned if I let a hair on your heads be harmed now. Besides, Marita and Malchior are my life.” Lishala gives a rare heartfelt smile instead of a smirk. “They could use your protection.” It was an excuse to get the four of them out of harm’s way, but Keagan nodded, understanding and accepting the duty of protecting his niece and nephew.
“Mom, what about you? You can’t face that fallen angel alone. Not after everything father’s been telling us.” Malchior speaks up from a corner, playing with a small windmill.
Lishala doesn’t respond to Malchior but reads over the spell and frowns in deep understanding of the situation. She takes the book and sets it off to the side with the page marked, and then begins looking through the others. Nothing in them, however seemed to be possible, so she continues to look. Slumping down on the bench, exhausted, she falls to sleep with her face upon a book. Kaleigha wakes when the village begins to wake and the smell of the morning breakfast cooking fires begins to waft through the air, as they are lit. The cocks begin to crow as women gather eggs from the hen houses, and children milk the goats. Blinking a little, Kaleigha looks towards the two newcomers, Marita and Malchior, realizing after a moment that they must be Lishala’s and Nimith’s children. After quick introductions, Kaleigha takes Marita out to the cooking fires to gather breakfast for the group.
* * *
The morning wore on and Keagan and Kaleigha, and Brackon changed into outfits made of crimson, smearing a paste made of cooking grease and red crushed ochre into designed upon their faces and hands. Kaleigha painted around her eyes since she had seen the bloody mess when first she came to, and Brackon wore no shirt, painting lines across his chest where his heart lay, showing how broken his heart is, with lines going up his shoulders and down his arms to his hands, tracing down to his ring finger. Keagan painted his entire face red except for his lips which he smeared with uncolored paste, making them white. He had no other explanation for the white lips except that he was hoping they had peace now and if they could hear him, would find peace in his words.
The ceremony started and ended quickly, and many people came and went just as fast, not able to bear the thought of losing members of their community so loved and dear. And the death of the infant and child made it all the worse. As Keagan, Brackon, and Kaleigha take their torches, each light off one of the pyres, as is tradition, and then step back. Kaleigha begins to cry, silently, again, leaving trails of red down her face from the grease around her eyes. Slipping his arm around her, Keagan pulls her against him and holds her. They really only had each other now, and though Lishala and her family were now here, it wasn’t the same. Sniffling, Kaleigha looks up through the dark smoke and fire and squints. Immediately her eyes open wide and she clings to Keagan.
“Keagan! He’s coming back!” Watching the speck in the sky as it nears, she knows it’s Nightbane.
Terrified, people run indoors, wanting to get away from the confrontation they know is in store. Marita had been standing outside watching, and runs as well, back to the workshop. Flinging the door open, she jolts her mother awake, yanking on her arm.
“Mom he’s here! Come quickly!” Marita pulls at her mother who stumbles up and staggers towards the door.
“Marita, I want you to do something for me. There is a bush growing, tall, with white flowers and thick leathery leaves. It is in the south facing pasture. Do you know it?”
“I saw it I think as we came in, yes.”
“Bring me three of its flowers but…do not touch them with your bare hands. It is highly toxic. It’s Oleander.” Lishala explains.
“You’re going to poison him?”
“Just bring them to me and then you, Malchior, Kaleigha and Keagan leave…get out of here. Go back to the lair and stay there where you’ll be safe. Go to the temple where there’ll be other priests who can protect you.”
“Aye…all right.” Marita hurries out the door with Lishala following close behind.
Running off towards the south pasture, Marita goes in search of the shrub with the white flowers, and Lishala runs towards the burning pyres to find Kaleigha and Keagan. Nimith meets her half way there and she pulls a piece of paper from a pocket in her apron looking it over as she walks. She stops and looks to Nimith, commanding his attention.
“Nimith…I’m sending the kids home and my brother and sister with them. I want you to stay…” She looks up at him with her eyes misted.
“Lisha why wouldn’t I?”
“No reason. Just…don’t go anywhere okay?” Her fingers tighten around his fingers and he watches her with slight confusion but he nods.
“Of course, don’t worry; I’m not leaving your side.”
Lishala nods, wiping at her eyes and kisses him deeply. He almost pulls back wondering why she’s so bothered but realizes she means to attempt a dangerous spell. His arms wrap around her and tighten into a hug as he returns the kiss. Nimith pulls back, nuzzling her nose.
“Hey, everything will be fine, right? So let’s go get rid of this guy.” Nimith tries to bolster her.
“Right…Nimith, I just wanted to tell you, I love you. And I should never have been so stupid and uncaring, and should’ve just let you in…you’ve been so good to me and…” She could barely continue for her crying.
“Lishala you’re really scaring me.” He pulls her again into an embrace. “Don’t talk that way. I love you too. Don’t worry about the past; I never held it against you.”
Lishala nods and takes a strengthening breath, sliding her hand into his, then turns towards Kaleigha and Keagan who are running over towards them. She reaches out and takes her sister’s hand when she gets there.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to meet before all of this. I didn’t know about you. Go with Marita and Malchior now and to my lair. There is a book there that Malchior is familiar with. He gave it to me, and I am giving it to you. There is a painting in it, of Taliessa, our mother. Not her true self but the one she assumed in her human form.”
“The one Makenna painted?” Keagan asks.
“Aye, her name is upon it.” Lishala smiles. “I met her when she was but four years old. All right, you and Kaleigha go…be well and be safe. Marita went to get me something I needed. Go to the west field near the cliffs, Malchior you go with them. Marita will be along shortly.” Kaleigha and Keagan hug her and then she hugs Malchior tightly, giving him kisses upon his cheeks. “Malchior, if you get into trouble, you just turn into a cloud and go…don’t look back. Protect your sister and help your aunt and uncle.”
She smiles, glad suddenly that there would be more people in their lives. Malchior nods and leads them away towards the west field. Lishala watches as they walk away and then turns when she hears the sound of Nightbane landing behind her. The evil glare of his eyes bore into her back. Nimith and Lishala turn, facing him and Lishala’s eyes glance over towards Marita who is running with a basket in hand, the white flowers prominent against the dark twigs woven together. She looks to Nimith.
“Nimith, tell her to go and leave them. She’ll know what I speak of.” Nimith nods and heads over to give her the message. Lishala looks towards Nightbane. “I call upon the guiding light of Io to surround me.” Nothing seems to happen but Nightbane begins to laugh.
“What’re you planning to do Lishala? Send me back to Io again? A lot of good that did.” Nightbane glares at her.
“Come forth to me, the powers of the darkness which haunts this plane!” She calls out the sky.
The clouds roll in dark. She had the powers normally to control the weather but this was not that power. Lightning begins to crash around them, forming a circle of burned grass. Nightbane is startled by the sudden bursts, and Nimith turns with curiosity. Cloud Dragons are immune to lightning. Lishala begins to chant in draconic and a crackling blue lightning bolt strikes down at Nightbane, grabbing hold of him. He yells out in anger and pain as several of his feathers are blown off his wings, falling to the ground, and he collapses to his knees. Lishala finishes the incantation, and the blue bolts streak out towards her and grab her. Though immune to it, she can feel the heat and it burns at her. Gritting her teeth, she too collapses, trying not to scream out with the pain, her arms wrapping around her waist.
“Mom!” Marita yells out, racing towards her but Nimith grabs hold of her wrist.
“No! Go home! Take the others and go now! They’re in the west field, and I’ll handle this. Just go!” Nimith rushes his daughter off to be away from the danger and then comes towards the circle but Lishala screams out finally.
“Nimith stay back!”
Nimith stops and Nightbane collapses forward, falling face first into the dirt and the lightning subsides. Most of the villagers peer out their windows, watching the display in terror. Lishala falls backwards fainting when the bolt releases her and she Nimith rushes in, cradling her. He has no idea what just happened and is terrified. Curled over her, with her in his arms, he calls out to her, trying to rouse her. Setting his ear to her chest he hears her heart beating and hugs her close. Lishala stirs and opens her eyes, her own arms wrapping around Nimith. Nightbane begins to stir as well.
“Nimith…bring me the flowers…” Lishala smiles, feeling Nightbane’s powers coursing through herself. Her spell had transferred them all into her, leaving Nightbane nothing more than a winged man who is immortal.
“All right…” Nimith sets her down to sit and quickly moves to get the flowers, figuring they’re for part of the spell. Bringing them back he hands the basket to her and she smiles again.
“Nimith, don’t let him do anything to our family…” She lifts the white flowers and crushes them, bringing the scent out into the air and she plucks a few of the petals off, placing them into her mouth, chewing them.
Nimith blinks and moves to stop her, ripping the basket away from her but she’d already swallowed them. He begins to shiver in fear, collapsing before her, his hands grabbing his shoulders, crossing across his chest. He reaches over and clutches her shoulders.
“What’ve you done? What was that? What’ve you done?!” Nimith insists upon her telling him.
“Oleander…” Lishala’s head falls forward onto his shoulder and she whispers against his ear. “Love you…he won’t get…powers back now…love you…”
“No! Lishala no! Why?!” Nimith yells out but Lishala has fallen quietly against him and doesn’t reply.
He begins to sob, cradling her in his arms as her lips turn a pale blue. Her pulse is gone and her body begins to disappear from his arms, evaporating into the air as a cloud, which rises up, diminishing until it’s nothing. Nimith covers his face with his hands, leaning over his knees within the circle of seared grass. Nightbane stands, staggering somewhat. His body is weak from the power exchange and though he tries to use his abilities, they are gone. Looking up through his anger at the fallen angel, Nimith stands, seething in his anguish. Before he could think of anything else, he attacks Nightbane. Blow after blow bringing pain and more pain to both men until Nightbane tries to fight back, but falls back, dizzy still. Blood pours from his nose, and the corner of his eye, while Nimith’s knuckles swell and bleed.
“Get out of here! Go! If you don’t leave here before I strike at you again I swear it I will kill you! Fallen angel or no I will seek the wrath of the gods to kill you!” Nimith screams out at him. Nightbane reacts quickly, realizing he has nothing to fight with against the stronger man, and he spreads his wings, shakily streaking into the sky. Nimith collapses back to the ground onto his knees, crying. “Lisha I don’t know if you can hear me but I swear it…I will die before that angel ever lays a hand upon our family…I swear it…”
III. MARITA & MALCHIOR
February 8, 1504
Marita sits watching out her window as the blizzard gusts and gales outside, whipping around the spires of the temple giving a whine to the wind. The glass in the windows, leaded and blurry, is hard to see through but it gives an eerie appearance to the near complete white out conditions, which are so common to Seixuso in the winter. Leaning her head against the window sill, she frowns, bored and thinking about her father, Nimith, who had just been killed a month ago. She’d often brought up the feeling of being cursed to her twin brother, Malchior, but she refused to believe the gemstone was the cause of it, and wouldn’t tell Malchior about it.
She had seen her mother struck by the blue lightning when confronting Nightbane in the field of Tali. However when her father had returned, and her mother had not, he explained to them that her mother had sacrificed herself to prevent Nightbane from ever gaining his powers back. She and Malchior had been devastated and Marita had locked herself in her room, refusing to leave it for any reason whatsoever. It wasn’t until she had passed out from lack of food and water that the temple had broken the door down to take her into medical care. Kaleigha, who had been staying in the temple with her brother Keagan and Brackon who had been the husband to her brother’s granddaughter, was called in and she stayed with her for three days and nights, healing her until she was well enough again to wake. Nimith had paced the halls. When she came too, though, she came back to herself and spent a month getting to know her aunt and uncle. At the end of the month, Kaleigha and Keagan, along with Brackon, left the temple and headed back to Tali.
Breathing against the window, she frosted the condensation upon it and then drew little random squiggles into the ice. It had been fifteen years since her mother’s death war was gripping the nations of the continent. Even the holy cities of Seixuso and Elsebeth were in danger of being overrun. Just outside Seixuso’s border to the northeast, on the borders of Kio, a large army is amassing. Marita and Malchior had been warned of this and were facing the dangerous situation. They were being asked to take wing and attack the approaching army, stopping their attack before it happens.
Marita pulls her face away from the window and wipes away a few tears from her cheek before they can frost over. She didn’t want to kill anyone. As a child, she’d been trained in ways of killing vampires, and only a few years prior there had been a major war centering in a neighboring village, where vampires and hunters had flocked. However, these are humans they are asking her and Malchior to kill or maim. Not vampires. Seixuso is theirs to protect. She knew they would need to do this. Leaving her room, she walks down the hall, barefoot, feeling the cold stone floor against her toes as she tiptoes. Most light is blotted out by the lack of sun coming in through the stained glass windows and leaded windows so she carries a lantern with her. Stopping at Malchior’s door, she knocks, pulling her robe closed a bit with her free hand. Mid-afternoon was settling in on the city, and Malchior answers the door, giving a smile to his sister, letting her into his room.
Stepping inside, she looks around. His room had been cleaned since their father’s death as Malchior had been looking for specific books. Keagan had helped him by building a shelf for all of his books, which no longer stood in corners in piles. Sliding onto his bed, she pulls her feet up and curls them beneath her clerical robes, setting the lantern on his side table, turning the turnkey to lower the flame.
“Your room is so tidy.” She notes to him as he walks over, sliding up onto the bed beside his twin.
“Yeah, thanks to Keagan. It’s much easier to find the books I’m looking for.” He looks to the window. “How long do you think this storm will last?”
“I don’t know, but I can hear drums. I’ve heard them all day since early morning. They have a sorcerer, I’d wager upon it. This is no natural storm, even if we do get them every year.”
“Sis, you can’t be sure of that. It’s probably a window shutter somewhere in the temple rattling.”
“No. I am certain of it.” Marita insisted.
Malchior lies down on the bed and pulls Marita down beside him. She lays her head against his chest as he strokes her hair. Besides Kaleigha and Keagan, who were busy with their own lives, they had no one now, but each other. Malchior could feel Marita’s depression through their connection, a similar connection that Kaleigha and Keagan shared. Only, this depression was more of a sense of defeat; Marita was in despair. Since they had been young children, Marita had often stolen into Malchior’s chambers to find comfort in her brother’s arms. They’d been separated from their mother to live, being raised by those within the temple instead, in the hopes they would be extremely powerful clerics. Marita often had prophetic dreams, and while Malchior knew this, he also liked to keep her trying to straighten the visions out, as many times they were nothing.
“I’m cold.” Marita says flatly as she stares at the wall, laying there.
“You’re cold? Are you ill?” He feels her forehead and frowns. “You have a fever. Perhaps you should go see your chambermaid and have her draw you a bath. You can’t get sick now; Seixuso is going to need us soon.”
“I know.” She nods and sits up.
“You need a mate, Marita. I know the temple says what it says, but you need someone.”
“I have you, Malchior. I don’t need anyone else.”
“No, I mean you need purpose. Someone you love, more than just your brother. Like the way Mom and Dad were in love. You need to get out of this place and go have children, and build a rookery at the lair. I can’t see you sitting here in these halls without children.”
“I can’t. The priests have said I must stay pure and untainted. I’m a high priestess, Malchior. And there are certain provisions, and certain agreements that I made for that title.”
“I know I know. I made the same ones, remember? However, you don’t see me sitting here in the seasons.” He smirks a little, sitting up as well.
“It’s easier for a man to enjoy his season than a woman. I’m certain they’d condemn me should I do such a thing and come back with eggs in my rookery. I can’t do that. I can’t lie.”
“I’m not telling you to lie. I’m telling you not to lie…to yourself. Don’t deny what comes as common nature to whom and what you are. To deny such a thing is to deny who you are and to lie to Io himself.”
“I think I’ll go take that bath.” She reaches over, taking her lantern and stands. “Thanks Malchior.” Malchior nods to Marita and Marita heads out of his room, closing the door behind her.
Walking through the halls, she steps into the winding stairwell, turning the lantern up, which throws her shadow against the wall, wavering as she descends. She knew the temple inside and out, even in the pitch black of night, with no lantern to guide her, but having it on would let anyone else know she was coming, and she’d be able to avoid startling, and colliding into another person. The fever settled within her and she could feel herself shivering, wanting to bury herself into her bed and just stay there. Her brother was right though, a bath would be best. Reaching the floor with the bath house, she follows the long hall out into a back building that is made of wood. As soon as she enters, steam surrounds her. Seeing the priestess come in, the attendant jumps to her feet and comes over to help her find a comfortable bath. She disrobes her and hangs the robe on a wooden peg on the wall, then wraps Marita with a sheet. Marita steps down into the warm water and settles on a wooden bench seat, sighing. The attendant had taken the lantern and hung that too, on a hook in the stall Marita is in.
“Priestess, shall I add anything to the waters?” The attendant asks.
“I’ve a fever. I think I’m coming down ill.”
“Aye all right, I know just the thing.” Giving a smile the attendant heads off to gather the supplies needed for the bath.
Marita relaxes back and sighs again, watching her breath in the hot air. Malchior’s words echo in her mind about finding a mate. Seasons were so difficult for her. She stayed locked up in her little room. Her bedroom window has bars upon the window for a good reason. And the priests in the temple locked her room several times over with sliding locks from the outside. Now though, season had ended before the New Year, and she is at peace except for the nagging beating she keeps hearing, echoing in her ears, and apparently, her ears alone. As she closes her eyes, the attendant adds the leaves, powders, and oils to the water. Whatever was added, it helped the water to evaporate off of her faster and she felt the room growing temperate, instead of cold.
Drifting off, she felt that shifting sensation of falling to sleep, dizzy and comforting. The sounds of wood splintering, glass shattering, and people screaming jar her from that sensation and she sits up, looking around. Her attendant is being hauled away to some corner by a group of men while other surround her in her tub, swords drawn, and crossbows pointed straight at her. At first she thinks she’s dreaming and only panics lightly, standing, clinging to the sheet around her but the sounds coming from the attendant in the corner as she watches the men huddling around her laughing, brings her to reality. She looks over at the now missing door.
“Malchior! Malchior!” She cries out as loud as she can for her brother, knowing he’d either hear her, or sense her urgent call.
Those who have the swords close in around her, moving into the water to corner her against the wall of the stall she’s in. She reaches one hand up towards them and casts a spell, sending the entire contents of the long tub which spans six stalls, at the men in a giant wave. Malchior appears n the doorway, confused and scared, having ran all the way down, and Marita takes off running towards him, trying to avoid the fallen soldiers. He seizes her by her arm and pulls her along, her wet feet slipping a little until they’ve dried enough not to. Running down the hall, she can hear her feet slapping against the stone floor. As they move past the stairwell, two soldiers run out of it, as they had just come down the stairs. One reaches out, grabbing Marita by the back of her hair, and the other leaps at Malchior, falling to the floor, and wraps his arms around his legs. Malchior falls to the floor unceremoniously, while Marita screams out, grabbing at the back of her head as the soldier drags her into the stairwell. Malchior scrambles to get up but the soldier tackles him to the floor and in a quick movement, slams Malchior’s head against the stones, rendering him unconscious.
“Malchior, no! Let go of me!” Marita watches as Malchior’s injured, and then struggles to get free of the soldier, grabbing hold of the archway, trying not to be pulled up the stairs.
The soldier moves a dagger to her throat and she quickly falls back into him, whimpering lightly as she’s moved along up the stairs towards the upper level. Struggling to keep the sheet around her, though it’s soaked, she clings to it, forced into one of the rooms. The soldier shoves her over to the bed, and then slams the door closed, standing against the door, watching her. He couldn’t leave her there or she could find a way to escape or cast spells. She curls onto the bed, feeling rather ill, and pulls the covers over herself, wishing she had her robes.
Malchior lifts his head which is in pain, his eyes blurred, and gazes around himself. He’d been strung up on Io’s symbol, like a cross, with his arms and legs chained to it. There in the main temple, soldiers stand around, laughing and smoking, some are drinking, other are doing unsightly and sinful deeds to female members of the temple in the pews. A large pile of broken pews had been piled, along with doors, at the base of the symbol and Malchior hung his head looking down at the pile confused. If he changed forms now, he would destroy the temple. The smell of hickory and pine saturates the area of the temple and it stings his blurry eyes and makes his nose itch. The sounds of those around him are a cacophony, confusing him and making his headache worse. Through the jumble though come the familiar sounds of Marita and he lifts his head again to locate her.
The soldiers hadn’t apparently hurt her as he could smell no blood, and see no bruising or wounds, but she is fighting to pull herself out of their clutches. Her sheet had been removed, but she’d managed to quickly use her magic before they had dragged her out of the small room, polymorphing so that she was appearing to wear clothing as many dragons can do. The outfit appears to be made of her own scaly skin, though much, much darker, almost black, and smoother with a small scale pattern on the shirt and pant set. Her golden circlet bearing the symbol of Io and the armbands with the symbol as well had remained. A set of odd metal hand coverings had been locked upon her hands.
Bringing her to the front alter where her brother is up on Io’s symbol, they release her and she collapses to the stone floor purely from the weight of the iron hand coverings. Looking up at her brother she sees what is happening. He is confused from a wound to his head, and his blood trickles from the injury, running down the side of his face, dripping down into a small puddle at the base of the symbol. The entire alter area had been made into a pyre, with the bottom most boards lightly beginning to smolder and smoke. Marita screams, diving at the pyre to try to use her powers, but with her hands covered and so heavy, they are useless. She feels the heat of the embers burning into her leg and arm, and then the strength of the men grabbing her from the pyre to keep her from actually catching herself on fire.
“Malchior change! Escape! They’re going to kill you, Malchior! Listen to me!” She screamed up at him in horror.
Malchior just blinked, staring at her as though he didn’t know her yet she was the only one in the room he really saw or heard. She knew her brother was done. The blow to the head, whether it had been from the one against the floor, or a later one, had damaged him in his fragile human condition, to the point of being lost to confusion. The room began to grow thick with smoke, and flames caught onto the pyre from the smoldering boards below it. Desperately trying to get out of the men’s grasp, she thought if she could only brave the heat for a moment, she could somehow break the chains and release Malchior from his imprisonment.
The men hold her sternly, shoving her down to her knees to watch. She doesn’t want to watch and hangs her head, sobbing and choking through the smoke, which darkens her skin lightly. As she begins to feel dizzy from the smoke inhalation she feels them grab the back of her head by the hair, forcing her to look at her brother as the flames begin to lick at his feet, and then legs. His screams begin to fill the temple, making Marita cry louder. The psychic rapport between then starts to grow faint, as the flames envelope his chest and then it snaps. His cries fall silent, eyes trained upon her, and then his head falls forward, chin against his chest, and she feels the emptiness consume her. Dizzy from breathing in the smoke, she sways lightly and then slumps over, being held up only by her hair, which the soldiers let go of so she falls to the floor. The soldiers drag out some of the wood and lay it across her to keep her down, creating a path for the fire to her, and then leave her for dead, retreating. They’d come and done what they were supposed to.
As the temple falls silent except for the sounds of crackling flames, burning at the window shutters, wooden rafters, and unburned pews, the pendant around Marita’s neck begins to glow and her entire body is consumed by a mist, and then vanishes, reappearing outside in the snow beside one of the rivers that lead from a run-off lake from the mountains. As the soldiers pile out of the temple, leaving it to burn down, they head for their camps to the northeast of the city. Coughing and sputtering, she awakens, hearing the sound of the men as the day is coming to an end. The blizzard was gone, as though it hadn’t even existed, save for the snow it had dumped onto the ground.
Rolling over, Marita looks up at the night sky, with the stars and twin moons, Cristos and Amaros, shining overhead. She blinks lightly, alive, not dead or burned, but yet Malchior…the thought of him again brought more tears, and she curls onto her side, sobbing into the snow. A barking startles her, and she sits up as four dogs run towards her, growling and snarling. They’re not alone. Following behind them are soldiers who had been scouting the lands for escapees.
Standing, Marita darts towards the water. If she changed now, they’d know who she was for sure, and if those dogs caught her, she was sure they’d attack her. She could feel her heart jumping into her throat. The iron mitts on her hands are heavy, making it difficult to move. Stepping out onto the ice, carefully, Marita turns, to look back but the dogs are continuing onward. Out of breath and coughing, she stops again, watching the dogs step out onto the ice. The ice is getting thin, and she knows exactly how deep the water is where she stops and sinks down to her knees onto the snow. Resting her aching arms at her sides, and her covered hands on the ice she tries to squeeze her hands out of the opening of the mitts. The rough edges inside begin to chafe at her skin, and the dogs halt at the command of their masters. Trying not to whimper, Marita can feel the dampness dripping down her fingers from her wrist. It was no good.
Speaking to her, the soldiers sound muffled in her ears as the sound of the rapids not far down stream block out some of their words, but the raising of their swords is no mistake. Lifting the heavy mitt, she slams it down onto the ice, able to hear the crackling coming from below herself. She breathes in deeply several times, and then both together, lifts the mitts and slams them down upon the ice. It shatters, sending her straight down into the icy waters, sinking like a rock to the bottom, ten feet below. The Soldiers quickly jolt the dogs back, a few managing not to get wet, but most falling in a few feet from the banks, as the crack spreads, loosening the entire sheet until the water flows with its burghs.
She felt fortunate that being a dragon, she could hold her breath for a long time. Even as a human there were some physiological and physical differences from a normal human. Her feet, still bare, have webbing between the toes, and her breathing system was slightly different. She didn’t need as much oxygen, especially being a Cloud Dragon. The men on the bank of the river hurry away to get warm and out of the icy cold weather, and they lead the dogs away as well. Marita grimaces at the pain in her arms as her hands had sunk straight to the silt floor. With the rapids not far downstream, she feels the strong current, pulling at her and tries again to get her hands free from the encasings. After nearly five minutes, beginning to become desperate and feeling the beginnings of that critical warning, needing air, she manages to squeeze one of her hands free. The current sweeps any of the blood from the gashes in her wrist, swiftly, and she can finally lift the one heavy mitt, swimming to the surface. As she breaks the surface, the snow is blowing again and she gasps for air, feeling it cling to her wet face before she sinks again from the weight. The metal mitt finally gives up her left hand and she leaves it beside the other, swimming to the surface again to look around.
The current finally had her and as she swims against it, it seems nearly impossible to look around. Giving in, she casts her polymorph spell, changing herself into her dragon form. Her white fur covered front legs begin to turn red slightly from the injuries to her wrist in her human form. Moving out of the water so it doesn’t dam, she collapses into the snow, nuzzling its cold, wet yet soft texture, her breath becoming ragged. Able to hold it back no longer, the temple not in sight, she breathes in deeply and screams as loudly as she can. The sound is horrifying. Her double voice (one metallic sounding, not living, mingling with a human voice) echoes through the mountains and flocks of birds take wing from nearly every tree. She collapses again sobbing. She could scarcely catch her breath. A few refugees of the city who had also escaped spot her. They’d known her human form, not as a priestess, but as one who served the priestess, and had always known the actual priestess was a dragon. Huddling in the cold blowing wind and snow, they watch her, terrified and fascinated. Though she had always served them, it had been from inside the temple, and they had never truly seen her this close up before or in this predicament.
Noticing the wounds on Marita’s front legs, the huddling seven year old daughter of the merchant, breaks away from her father and runs towards Marita. Her father leaps to go after her but stumbles in the snow. Marita lifts her head, the frozen tears frosting her furry face, and she watches the child, sniffling gently. She recognizes the child; she had done the naming ceremony for the little girl when she was only two days old, and had seen her in the temple every time her parents came to pray. The man catches up to the child and grabs her, falling to his knees and bows his head, just a few feet from her.
“F-forgive me High Priestess!” He stutters lightly, shivering not with the cold but in fear.
Marita lifts herself to sit upon her stomach, her front legs stretched out before her, making her resemble a giant white cat in some respect. She didn’t want to be alone right now. The mere sight of them made her want to cry more, happy to see people had escaped. She considered changing back into her human form, but this one was now protecting them from the winds and snow which blew against her, instead of them. She lowers her head some to their level.
“Please don’t fear me. Stay with me and be warm. I can give you shelter against this weather.” She was struggling not to cry but she knew that tears were slipping over her thick whiskers down to the snow below.
The little girl tugs free from her father and closes the space between them, throwing her arms open as wide as they can go as she clings to Marita’s side. She cries to Marita, nearly incomprehensible, about her mother being killed, and her brothers and sisters as well. Marita pulls her tail around and uses it to clear away a large majority of the snow; the merchant steps aside as she clears the area. Laying her head down, she speaks quietly.
“They have killed High Priest Malchior.” Marita explains. The merchant walks closer, drops to his knees beside his daughter and makes the sign of Io, pulling the girl into his arms to help keep her warm. “The man and woman you knew as the servants to us were not servants. The beings you saw were in fact, us, disguised as humans. They captured us in those forms, shackled my hands with magic inhibitors, strung Malchior up onto Io’s symbol, and set the temple on fire. They’d left me for dead at the foot of the burning pyre.”
“How did you escape, Milady?” The merchant asks, wide-eyed.
“I’m not sure. I was unconscious. I can only assume someone carried me out, but when I awoke, there was no one.”
“Then you were lucky. Few escaped without injury if at all. When we ran past, flames were pouring from the windows.”
Marita considers the merchant’s words. She’d seen so much turmoil in her life. Why did more need to be brought into it? Nuzzling her muzzle into her white furry paws, she wipes away the frost from her face as more tears slowly trail down, freezing her fur. She thinks of the past and how she’s now alone in the world. Laying her head on its cheek, she watches the father and daughter.
“What is your name, sir? And your daughter’s?” Marita asks.
“I am Elijah and this is my daughter, Melissa.” Melissa was slipping into sleep, curled against Marita now, in her thick fur.
“Well met, though under precarious circumstances, for which I apologize. I am pleased to meet you.” Marita curls around them both to protect them from the snow and wind as night slips over the land.
* * *
As the soldiers cross the land, back tracking towards the temple to be sure all had not survived, the following morning, Marita polymorphs into her human form. Elijah and Melissa watch in great fascination as the great white dragon turns into the pale young woman, with pale blue hair. Melissa especially seems fond of the transformation process and sticks close to Marita, asking questions as they trek east. Marita felt the great need to get away from Seixuso.
“Milady, where will we go? What about the others?” Elijah asks, walking at her side.
“I want to go to the neutral
Elijah nods slowly in thought. With Melissa so young, at only seven summers old, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to make such a trip. He finally agrees to go as far as they can go. “But we’re going to need a map.” He finally interjects.
“That should not be a problem. If everything is still in tact, I know where we can get one, but we’ll need to get into the temple.” Marita explains.
“Can you even get in there?” Elijah asks.
“I can. I know every secret entrance in the place. I grew up there after all.” She smirks gently to herself, remembering her and Malchior running through the halls as children, and being scolded for it. “You two will need to stay warm. I will take you to a place where you can do that, now. Stay back and try not to move.” She was already exhausted and knew that she had only two more times she could cast the spell before she couldn’t cast it anymore. This would mean once she took them to her lair, she’d need to fly to the temple, get in using her human form, then get out and stay in her human form. This was a dangerous thing with the temple being overrun by soldiers. Looking to the horizon, she nods to herself. “Let’s go.”
Marita reaches into the snow and washes the wounds of her wrists clean from the drying blood, then hurries away from Elijah and Melissa as she casts her spell. She changes back into her dragon form.
“Lady Marita, I fear we’ll not have time! Look!” Elijah calls out to her.
Melissa screams as dogs run across the clearing towards them. To escape, Marita begins to beat her wings, jumping into the air as she snags Elijah and Melissa within her paws. Feeling the sudden sharp pain in her leg, Marita realizes the dogs have jumped, biting at her fur covered legs, latching on when their jaws reach her thigh. She yelps, giving a cry; her hands aren’t free to beat them away so she uses her other foot to kick at them. The dogs fall from her leg, leaving blood stained fur while she puts distance between them and the ground. Melissa sobs, scared and continues to scream when she sees how high they are. Marita tries to stay low, for the sheer fact that it’s cold, but she has to get away from the area and takes off to the east. Making a large circling path over the forest, she eyes the horizon ahead, watching the mountains for her target…a ledge she can land on. Giving a small shiver, she shakes loose the snow that’s clinging to her fur, and tucks her back legs up against herself, barring the pain that burns in them.
Elijah winces, seeing her injuries but is too preoccupied at being in the air for him to linger on it very long. They clear the tops of the forest, rushing off to the east, no longer having enough time to return to the temple to get a map. Their trip would have to be cold, fast, and ultimately dangerous for the two humans within the dragon’s grip. As they pass over the opposing side of the grove, an expansive gorge spans the length of a horizon.
“This is the Marion Divide.” Marita’s voice sounds raspy and metallic, not the smooth, light voice of a human, full of melody, which she had in her other form.
Elijah clings to Marita, looking
down into the deep crevice with its steep walls and raging rapids below,
carving its way through the terrain. Not
seen from their position, though located further north, the same river would
empty out into the
“We need to land somewhere for you two to be warm. You can’t fly with me this way all the way to Taltoua.” Marita insists.
“Anything you with Milady, just don’t drop us.” Elijah replies, and Marita chuckles in response.
Knowing the soldiers couldn’t possibly cross the Marion Divide in less than two days by foot, and one by horse, she watches for a cabin, hut, or anything that she can land near so that her two passengers will not freeze to death in their flight. It would take a good week to get to Taltoua flying, so she knows time is of the essence. The wisp of smoke coming from a small grove of trees signals a fire and the smell of wood, but not food said it was likely for heat and possibly a home. Descending as far as she dares, she keeps her passengers above the tips of the trees, slowing circling the area where the smoke rises from.
“Do you see anything down there? I think I see a hut or something.” Elijah asks Marita.
“I do, but I don’t know how I can land anywhere near here. We’re going to have to land and walk. From the looks of things, it won’t take but perhaps half of an hour to walk the distance.” Marita frowns, however. Thirty minutes in this weather, plus the near thirty minutes they’d been flying would be an hour in this weather, and while they are wearing cloaks, it isn’t enough to completely keep out the cold.
Marita shoves out of her spiral and moves for the open glade she had seen, climbing her way down through the air towards the ground. Lifting Elijah and Melissa upward, she lands in the thick snow, using only her back legs, folding her wings in tightly against her back. The pain in her legs made her whimper a little but she clears her throat to hide the sound, leaving frozen blood on the snow’s surface. She sets them both onto her back, leaning forward and they cling to her fur, nestling within it for its warmth as she carries them towards the forest’s edge. Once there, the snow isn’t so deep and she sets them down, changing herself back to the human form, but collapses to her hands and knees, the wounds still there. Elijah leaps to help her, pulling his cloak off. As he moves to rip it to make a cover for the bites, she stops him.
“No need…I can heal this, just not completely. Not until tomorrow. Besides, the cold doesn’t bother me, but it will bother you. Don’t ruin your cloak to help me; really…I’ll be okay.” She gives him a soft smile and casts the healing spell. The wounds mostly heal, though the puncture marks of the bites remain shallow, yet open. “That should do for now, and it’ll be all right.” Marita takes Elijah’s offered arm to stand.
“Are you sure Milady?” He watches her worried, while Melissa clings to her father.
“I’ll be okay, but let’s get moving before the weather changes. I smell a snow storm approaching.” Marita smiles to reassure Melissa and they take off towards the forest.
Around them, Marita can feel the eyes of the night creatures and animals watching. Darkness is approaching, and with it, the dangers of the night. Drow and vampires, amongst other beings, all of which she as a human could scarcely do anything about, would eventually be out in the near full moon light of the twin moons. Shivering, Melissa stays beneath her father’s cloak as Marita leads the way. Elijah and Melissa aren’t as quick and graceful on their feet through the dark forest, amongst the bramble and the broken twigs as they follow along behind Marita.
The wounds in her thighs burn and seep, and she can feel the blood freezing against her legs, but the near arctic temperatures do little to her as they trek onward, a distant glowing pinhead of light, seen like a light at the end of a tunnel, hovering ahead. Marita trips slightly and Elijah steadies her. Dizziness is settling in upon her from the blood loss, hunger, and her exhaustion. She shifts back against him while Melissa takes her father’s arm and Elijah takes Marita’s waist, uttering apologies which she quickly dismisses with lack of need. The smell of smoke grows stronger as the light of what seems to be, not one, but two lanterns set upon two poles, marking the edge of the forest for a tiny, yet cozy and warm looking cottage, comes into view. As dogs begin to bark, a shiver runs up Marita’s spine. Recalling the dogs which had attacked her not more than an hour ago, she feels her face grow hot and her vision goes black. In a panic, Melissa screams and Elijah catches Marita before she falls in her faint.
As he lifts Marita from her feet into his arms, two large wolfhound-like dogs come bounding up towards them, sending Melissa into shrill screams as she clings to her father. A voice behind them calls out to them heavily, signaling the dogs to calm down, but they persisted, sniffing out Melissa and yipping like puppies with their tails going a mile-a-minute. Peering out from under Elijah’s cloak, Melissa sees them as they wait eagerly with a stick to be thrown. Elijah chuckles as the owner runs up to keep the two very large dogs from knocking either of the standing people over, though the sight of Marita, unconscious, catches his attention quickly. The man takes hold of the two dogs with his large hands, and Elijah gets a good look at the short, muscular, fair-haired man.
“Sorry about that, they’re not really the best watch dogs, but they do let me know when anyone nears. They won’t hurt ye’ little lady.” He added speaking to Melissa. “Here now, get on with you two.” The dogs take off again, and the man begins to usher them in towards the house. “Did she take a fright? Those two mutts,” he added with a mutter.
“No,” Elijah replies, moving along after him with Melissa attached to his cloak. “She was attacked earlier by some dogs, and is very tired and weak. May we take shelter here for the night?”
“Of course you can. There’s looking to be another blizzard on its way I think.”
“Thank you.” Elijah responds. “I’m Elijah, and this is my daughter Melissa. We are traveling with this woman, and her name is Marita. A few wild dogs attacked us, but I’m afraid she was the one who took the injuries.”
“Well, Elijah, I live out here alone since my wife and daughter passed away, so it’s just me and the mutts. I suspect they miss havin’ a friend around to play with. And my name’s Dante.” He shows the travelers into the small cottage, with only one room.
Elijah follows Dante into the cottage and lays Marita upon a bed near the fireplace where Melissa crawls up to lay beside her. At the foot of the bed, the two dogs perch their noses, eyeing the guests, while Dante pours a cup of hot water for Elijah to make tea. Pulling a chair over to the edge of the bed, Elijah sits, sipping the tea, watching over Marita.
“You three must’ve come a long ways. Not much out this way but the trees.” Dante remarks when it had been quiet for what seemed like too long.
“A ways, yes.” Elijah replies. “From Seixuso…there have been attacks there, and fires. We escaped but many didn’t. I suppose we were lucky.”
“She seems to be waking. I’ll ready her something to eat if you think she might like something.” Dante stands and moves over to the hearth, prodding the fire back to life.
“I don’t know if she will.” Elijah leans over Marita, examining her humanoid face. Her face is smudged by the soot, and he reaches up, moving her hair away from her face.
“Will what?” Marita’s voice grumbles, her face turning towards Elijah’s voice, eyes opening. Her vision is blurred at first, looking at the man sitting beside her. Slowly it clears as Elijah speaks again.
“I told him I didn’t know if you would be up to eating. How are you feeling?” He asks.
“I feel tired and heavy. What happened? I remember coming through the forest, and then the sound of more dogs…”
“You fainted. We’ve been through a lot and you’ve hardly rested. It seems there’s a blizzard approaching again so we’ll have the time to rest. A man named Dante owns this cabin and he’s letting us stay.” Elijah explains.
Marita’s eyes move towards the man near the fire, trying to focus on him as well, but the distance blurs the vision again. She knew however this was the man whom Elijah was speaking of.
“Thank you, Dante. If there’s anything I can do to repay you…”
“Don’t fret over it.” Dante interrupts. “It’s rare I get visitors out here, so the company is welcome.”
Marita nods and looks down to her side, seeing Melissa laying against her, curled up and sleeping, then looks back to Elijah.
“I’m sorry this happened to your family…it was an attack on my brother and I. We never knew anything like this would happen though. We thought we’d be safe from it all.” Marita explained, feeling bad that he’d lost his wife and other children.
“I don’t blame anyone but the one who did it.” Elijah’s face, for the first time since they’d met, is torn and tired, full of sadness.
“My brother and I were twins.” Thinking of Malchior was stinging her in a way she couldn’t explain. “Our mother sacrificed herself in hopes that this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. I feel like I’ve let her, and my grandmother both down.” Marita pauses a moment and looks from her fidgeting hands to Elijah again. “If things turn bad, you need to be away from me. You and Melissa need to go anywhere you can and speak nothing of me. Don’t even mention my name.”
“Milady?” Elijah listens to her confused.
“You know of the angels who protect us and guide us?” Marita asks, watching him nod. “Not all are good, and one hates my family.” Her glance moves to his eyes, watching for the reaction within, and she feels a sudden fleck of familiarity with the color of them. Her thoughts mull a little over the unusual eye color he has, and she tries to place the turquoise color. Elijah says something but she doesn’t catch the words as the image of a turquoise, flowing finned fish flashes in her mind. “What was that?” She asks him, hoping he’ll repeat what he’d just said.
“How did an angel come to hate your family?” He repeats.
“Oh, well, it started a long, long time ago with my grandmother. The angel was in love with her, but she refused him in that way. It just sort of escalated from there. My mother removed his powers and pulled them into herself, just before she killed herself in hopes he would never get them back. I guess it worked, but he worked with a sorceress…at least this is what sources have told me. We believe she isn’t human and is either still alive, or her child is and is commanding these armies, but we know nothing for sure.” Marita explains.
Elijah considers all of this, though it’s far too out of his grasp to completely understand it. Angels had always been godly creatures, not evil demonic beings that obsessed over love. As he sits there thinking things over, Dante comes back into the cabin. He had gone out to bring in all of the firewood that would fit into a crate, sitting to one side of the fireplace, though out of reach of any sparks. Snow clots and clings to the fur covered boots and parka he wears, falling off onto the wooden floor. One of the dogs lays in the path through the cabin which Dante walks and is stepped over, with snow falling off of his master’s boots. The dog lifts his head and laps at it lazily. Marita watches quietly, knowing from her many years in dealing with humans that the concept of gods, angels, and immortality always seemed confusing, or at least very complicated. After a moment more she smiles, laying her head down on the pillow. Comfort was a luxury she thought she might not ever feel again and this was more comfortable than even her own bed back in the temple, perhaps because the bed is very stiff and the mattress nearly threadbare.
“You look tired, Milady.” Elijah comments.
“You can call me Marita. It looks like we’re going to be held up here for a while. It’s too small here to be so impersonal.”
Elijah chuckles softly. His first response was to resist, as it felt too impersonal of a name to call a high priestess. Deciding he better not argue with a priestess, he nods.
“Marita, then, a few minutes ago when I asked about how an angel could come to hate your family, you were off somewhere else. What were you thinking of?...If you don’t mind me asking that is.”
“I was young, in the courtyard of the temple with my brother and we were playing. I can’t remember exactly how it happened, but he and I collided as we were running around, and I fell into the reflection pool. I hadn’t ever been swimming before and the water was far too deep for me to touch in, but my brother jumped in and pulled me out. He’d gone in there all the time, but I was afraid. I didn’t realize until I lay there sputtering that along with me a turquoise fish was pulled up as well…little like a gold fish but with vibrant and flowing fins. Your eyes are the same color as the little fish.”
The story made him smile. His wife had told stories like that when she’d been young and they had grown up together. The last few years or so had brought hardship, though, between them. She had become distant after the death of her own mother, and though he still loved her, they had hardly spoken to each other until the end when she said goodbye before her death.
“You remind me of someone I grew up with. She used to tell stories like that, many years ago.” He chuckles thinking back to it.
“Who was it?” She asks.
“My wife…when she was younger that is.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up. I can stop if it’s difficult.” Marita frowns in concern. It had been less than twenty-four hours since the city had been attacked. Of course he would be upset.
“No, don’t be sorry. You don’t have to stop. I do miss my wife…but it was the woman she was four or five years ago. I clung to that the last few years. The woman who was killed was a shell of the woman she once was.”
Marita nodded gently, not knowing what else to say after that. It wasn’t often that she was left speechless, but she found her mind clouded, closing her eyes for a moment with a sigh, taking in the scent of what she could only assume is Dante.
“How are you feeling?” Elijah asks.
“I’m not sure how to explain it. I’ve never felt this way before. My head feels sort of light, and my eyes are itching.”
Elijah reaches out, sliding his hand up onto her cheek to check her temperature. He shakes his head with a look of vague confusion. Her skin was cooler than a human’s skin so he didn’t know what to expect.
“I can’t tell if you have a fever or not, look up here. Usually a person’s eyes are glassy when they’re feverish.” He releases her cheek and sits up a little, turning the lantern up on the hook in the wall.
She lifts her chin to look up at him and shies away a little from the bright light of the lantern. He gives a nod, seeing the glassy tell tale signs of a fever and then turns the lantern down. She slackens her eyes from wincing to normal, able to see well now that the light is less harsh.
“I wasn’t feeling well yesterday. I had gone to the bathhouse to get an herbal soak…but that’s when the soldiers came.” Marita rolls onto her side facing him.
“You need medicine. You’re sick and I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to be out in this weather while sick.”
“I don’t think it’s anything serious…besides, like you said, we’re going to be snowed in here for a while. Elijah, thank you.” Marita smiles and closes her eyes, nestling into the pillow.
Elijah lifts a brow in surprise, wondering why she thanked him. It seems hard to believe she is a high priestess to Elijah, and he looks down at her as she lays there on the bed with his daughter. Dante steps over and offers Elijah a refill on his tea and Elijah accepts, standing to walk over with the other man to a small dining table, sitting so they don’t disturb Marita’s and Melissa’s sleep. Elijah looks around the cabin, noticing the ornate detailing on a small chair, fit for a child. And on top of the fireplace’s mantle sits a dusty sewing box, with a black strip of lace draped over it. He remembers Dante had said he’d lost his family too.
“You keep addressing her as “Milady” and she wears a circlet. Who is she?” Dante’s curiosity got the better of him.
“I’m not sure she wants it known exactly, but she’s a priestess.” Elijah admits, though he won’t go into detail.
“That would explain it then.” Dante sips at his tea and watches Marita as she sleeps.
“Explain what?” Elijah felt a bit defensive of the priestess and looks over now to where he’s looking.
“She’s almost ethereal. She has a certain light about her, I can’t explain it completely.”
Elijah watches her slightly irregular breathing, almost a strain to take in hair, then hesitancy to release it. She hadn’t told him much about what had happened in the temple when the soldiers came. A light film of perspiration is becoming visible on her face and he realizes how feverish she is.
“Do you have any elder flowers and peppermint leaves? Marita’s ill and has a fever, though she may not feel warm to the touch.” Elijah asks, and explains.
“I’ve a prepared serum of it ready. If you think it would help, she’s welcome to all that she needs.” Dante gives a nod and stands, moving over to the fireplace, lifting a pottery jug from the floor, pulling the cork out of it, and pours some of it into the teapot, which he hangs over the fire.
“I hope it does, but I can’t be sure because she isn’t human. She saved our lives though, so I want to help her too.” Elijah knits his brow in concern, holding the hot tea, and sips at it to help chase away the cold.
Outside, the wind begins to howl against the small cabin, but the dogs barely flinch and continue to sleep through the noise. Dante moves around the cabin, closing interior shudders to help bolster the windows against possible breakage, and to help block out extra cold seeping in through the thin leaded bead glass. Pouring the heated herbal tea from the tea pot, Dante walks over to the bed, sitting on the edge, and rouses Marita gently.
“Priestess, milady, you must drink some tea to help ease your fever.” Dante felt clumsy in his words. He’d never actually spoken to a priestess before, and was taking his cues from Elijah’s conversation with the woman.
“What is it?” Asking gently, Marita sits up in Dante’s arms, taking the cup into her hands to smell it. “It smells of peppermint.”
“Aye, that it is, and elder flowers a well, in boiled.” He hands the drink to her as she takes it. It puzzles him how cold she feels in his arms while having a fever. She takes a drink of the hot tea, and the heat of it doesn’t seem to harm her though it’s hot. After drinking about half of the cup, she hands him back the cup and lays her head against his shoulder, her eyes too heavy to remain open. Dante looks over to Elijah. “She has an infection of the wounds on her wrists. It is making her very ill. I’ve seen this before and,” he pauses, lifting one of the wrists to examine it, “not many live.”
Elijah’s heart sinks. After their escape from the city, to only go such a short distance, and be brought down by illness seemed cruel. He comes over to the bedside and examines the wound son her wrist where the iron mitts had been fastened. Surely, there were red lines running up her arm, nearing her shoulder. Blood poisoning. Marita’s eyes flutter lightly as she barely is able to listen to what the men say.
“She needs a healer.” Elijah insists.
“There’s no way to go out in this blizzard. To do so would be certain death to the one who leaves and to her as well. We can only treat it with what we have. I will go prepare what I can, but I’ve not known anyone to live without the aid of magic.” Dante lays Marita back down and stands, moving about the cabin to gather this and that.
“I’m sorry.” Marita opens her eyes and looks up at Elijah. “I shouldn’t have been so irresponsible.” Her speech sounding slightly slurred. “I can heal this…but it will take more energy than I have. I would need to gather it from others…”
“I’ll give it. You can take all you need from me…if it’s possible that is.” Elijah volunteers.
“It’s not possible.” Marita frowns.
“Why not? You said you’d need to gather it from others.” Elijah feels suddenly defeated.
“Because it must be from another female, and I worry if I try to take it from Melissa, it may be too much.” Marita raises her hand to view her wrist.
“Tell me what happened? In the temple, what went on? How did this happen to you?” Elijah felt the urge to pressure Melissa when she wakes but she was so young still.
“Well, like I mentioned earlier, this angel and sorceress has it out for my family. I think they’re looking for something.” She resists the urge to grasp her pendant of Io. “My brother knew nothing of it, but I do…and I believe they know that. After they seized me from the bathhouse, my brother tried to stop them and they attacked him. I was pulled away to a room and locked inside with a soldier who threatened me with unspeakable things. It was all I could do to attack him with my spells, but when I did that, they forced me onto the ground, sat on me, and forced my hands into fists as they shackled them with iron mitts…magic inhibitors. It was all I could do to polymorph clothing onto myself before they locked the mitts into place. They dragged me down to the temple for prayer where they had strung my brother up onto the symbol of Io. He was already dying. I was again forced to the floor at his feet and they set the room on fire…I can’t remember how I escaped, but I was chased into the river where I managed to squeeze my hands out of the mitts. That’s how my wrists were injured. It wasn’t very long after that, which I came upon you two.” Marita concludes.
“We will get you healed, Marita. With luck, the blizzard won’t last long, and we can go find and bring back someone for you. Until then, what should we do?”
“I know little about herbs. However, if I just sleep through the night, I will have my magic back by morning. And then I can cast a spell to start healing my wrists. I leave myself at the mercy of Lord Io.” Marita nuzzles into the pillow as Dante comes back over with a poultice.
The feeling of the poultice burns as Dante ties it to her wrists and she balls up into the fetal position, trying not to whimper. She wondered vaguely if she had enough power to transform into her natural form, and brave the blizzard outdoors. She’d have a much greater change to fight off the blood poisoning in her dragon form than in this weak form. Elijah strokes her hair gently as the burning feeling in her wrists begins to numb.
“That’ll help. I know it burns now, but that’s it doing its job. Keep those on until morning, and then we’ll put another set on. It’s the only thing I know that might help.” Dante heads for the “kitchen” area, which is no more than a counter with cabinets. He begins to prepare a meal for his guests.
Marita tries desperately not to shed any tears but it’s next to impossible, and Elijah gently slips his hand into hers. She blindly closes her fingers around his hand, calming a little and he can slowly feel tingling sensation in his fingers. Marita is unintentionally drawing some of his energy off of him which helps bring her heartbeats to a slower pace. Melissa wakes and at first sits, watching her father and Marita, then slips down off the bed to sit on the floor, petting the dogs that seem to drool over the affection. Within ten minutes, Marita slips into sleep and Elijah along with her, laying his head on the bed beside her.
* * *
March 15, 1504
Marita had slowly progressed, gaining strength that was given off by only Melissa, who volunteered to help. Still weak, over a month had passed and the snows were sparse, though still coming and going into the month of March.
As morning breaks on the morning of the 15th, Dante opens the windows for the light to come in, while Elijah and Melissa prepare a morning tea for Marita, and breakfast as for everyone. The dogs lap sloppily at their meals, and Dante stops, watching what he’d not seen in the time they had been there. Marita sits up from the bed and stands on her own, walking to the center of the room to look around. She’d walked around before with help, but this time is on her own. Melissa turns and nearly drops the wooden cups, spilling the tea as she blinks, a grin growing on her face.
“You can walk!” Melissa yells out.
Elijah stops what he’s doing and turns, a calm smile spreading over his face. The time he’d spent helping to nurse Marita back to health, they had remained safe, but he knew that turmoil was abundant in Seixuso, and that her fight was far from over, though this small battle had finally been won. Stepping over to her, she gives a smile in return and he reaches down taking her wrist, one by one, examining the scars. There were no longer any pink or red lines spreading out of the area that had once been raw and injured skin.
“They look quite well, how are you feeling?” He asks her.
“I’m a little weak, hungry though and thirsty. I’m not used to going so long with so little fresh water. I need to go out into the sun and rain, and see if I can change so I may drink in the water as it falls from the clouds.” Marita’s voice churned with eloquence as it once had before.
“All right, do you need any help?” Elijah asks, while Dante and Melissa just listen and watch.
“I’ll be okay I think. Go ahead and finish making breakfast; I can hear Melissa’s stomach growling.” Marita smiles over to Melissa who blushes lightly and laughs a bit.
With a nod from Elijah, Marita carefully makes her way out the door, her bare feet pressing through the cold and slightly slushy mud, sprinkled with hearty grasses. The sun feels incredible on her and she at once closes her eyes, breathing in deeply as her face upturns towards it, catching the heat though it’s still quite chilly outside. During their stay Marita had admitted to Dante that she was in fact a dragon, though she didn’t explain who she is. Pulling her nightgown off which had been given to her in her stay, she stands naked in the light with her skin pale, with a blue undertone, and in the brightest light, tiny shimmers can be seen like a pearlescent powder had been swept over her entire body. Elijah had been watching out the window and his face flushes deep crimson, turning quickly away to return to the wood burning stove.
Marita’s transformation takes a moment longer to begin than usual, but once it starts, her form spreads, growing scales and then feathery fur which she shakes out like a dog, her wings flapping around once the change is complete, shedding off the feather-like fur that had not been shed in the month she’d been ill. Elijah peers over to the window again, when Dante gasps, giving a smirking and knowing smile. Dante hadn’t ever seen a dragon this close before and he steps out onto the thawing ground, transfixed, and then collects the nightgown so it doesn’t get soiled.
“You’re…not a…meat eating dragon, are you?” He stammers, watching her large white paws pressing into the frosted mud.
“No, I’m not.” Marita couldn’t help but chuckle, with her metallic and human voices mingling. “I eat rain and hailstones.” She stretches out her wings as far as they will go, her body stretching like a cat, toes spreading, and talons digging into the ground beneath her. At the end of the stretch, she sighs out, and a burst of steam blows out of her nose. She gives another shake. “I feel like I’ve been locked up in a cage for a month.” She cranes her neck down and around to where Dante’s standing and rubs her chin on a patch of rock.
Dante can’t help but watch and grin. She reminded him of a cat or a dog with an itch, and half expected her to roll over next to wiggle on her back as his dogs often had done when shedding. “Will you be leaving, now that you are well again?” He asked, not because he wanted them to leave, but he’d enjoyed their company.
“I suspect we will. Every day that I linger, my home is being overtaken and run by evilness. And I’ve less than a week to get to Taltoua and just beyond where there is an ancient dragon that my mother once said is good. I hope to ask him for his help as he would be much stronger than I am.” Marita lays down so she isn’t so tall while they speak.
“Why do you have less than a week? It will take a fortnight if you plan on walking. I’ve made the trip on foot before.” He explains.
“I was hoping to walk and fly. It should take much less time.”
“In your condition, will you be able to fly?” Dante asks in concern.
“I think so. I shall try tonight, perhaps in the morning after I’ve revived more.”
“So why do you have less than a week?” He asks again.
She hesitates to respond. The vernal equinox was coming, which would mean mating seasons for dragons, and she had always locked herself away and drank herbal sleeping teas. The council of dragons had always explained to her that her family was cursed by relationship which her grandmother had had with a dragon of another type. And that the curse would follow her, and her children. She’d seen this curse in person. An evil dark angel, fallen and damned, and she knew it was likely that one day, possibly soon, she’d come face to face with Nightbane. She already felt this attack to her city had been because of him. Her eyes shift towards Dante as he stands there awaiting a response, though she can tell he realizes the answer does not come easily.
“The vernal or spring equinox. It is a very sacred time for dragons.” And she leaves it at that, though she knows Dante doesn’t understand.
“Marita.” Elijah’s voice comes from behind Dante, standing in the doorway. “If you’re hungry, there’s food inside, and Melissa has your tea ready.”
“Thank you, I’ll be inside in a moment.” She smiles to Elijah and looks back to Dante who sets the nightgown down on a fence post while Elijah heads back inside. Dante joins Elijah to leave the priestess to her privacy. Once alone, she shifts her form back to the human one. She’d been hoping that the scars upon her legs and wrists would go away, though they hadn’t and she pulls the nightgown on over herself, freeing the hair from the eyelet collar. Her mother’s hair had been paler, almost silver with a light hint of blue, while her own hair is a deeper turquoise-silver. She runs her fingers through it a little to straighten it and then follows the others in, wiping her feet off on a rag rug that is laying on the floor. It felt good to have stretched fully, but with the equinox approaching, she feels a fear within her. Melissa sets out clothes for her to wear and when Marita comes in, she takes them behind a changing screen to change.
Changed into her clothing, Marita comes out and stands before everyone, a sullen expression upon her face. It had been an extremely difficult time for her, and the connection she had shared with her brother had been severed the moment he’d died. She felt it snap, like a thread, and now, standing safely within this tiny cabin, she felt an ominous fear sweep through her. They were still there in her city, in her temple, killing or enslaving her people. Elijah caught the look in her eyes and turns away.
“We need to go.” Even in discussing it just prior, it hadn’t seemed as real as now when she said it.
Dante frowns; he had been so alone in these woods all of this time, and then they had come along. Now they were leaving and he couldn’t go with them. He walks over to Marita and takes her hands in his.
“I have a cousin, in Taltoua. He owns an inn there and his name is Michael Elspa. Just let him know that I sent you and he’ll give you free boarding while at the inn. I’d go, but I’ve too many things to do around this place and I think I’d only slow you down.” Dante explains.
“You’ve done a lot for us, Dante, and I cannot thank you enough. Really, I’ve not met many humans on a personal level, besides the human clerics that is. I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to meet you and I really do hope to see you again.” Marita reaches forward and hugs Dante. He had saved her life and whatever may come, she assured herself that she would never forget him.
Elijah moves through the little cabin, gathering their few things. There weren’t many to begin with, only the clothing they had come with and a doll that Dante had given to Melissa. Dante brings out fresh parkas. Marita smiles and refuses one, explaining she hasn’t a need for one. Melissa’s is far too large for her but will keep her warm, and she accepts it happily. Standing in the doorway, Elijah watches the goodbye scene, saddened as well. Crossing through these forests, he is leaving everything of his past life behind. He could hear Marita chuckling at something Dante is saying, and Melissa telling the dogs that they had to “behave and not jump up onto anymore people.” Marita looks over to him with a big smile before looking back to Dante. Dante promised he would try to get out towards Taltoua soon. It was the first time Elijah had seen Marita smile and he can’t help but smile back. Marita walks over to the door, giving Dante a nod before stepping out, and Melissa hugs Dante before bolting for the door to go with her. As he stands there, Elijah waits for the others to go outside and then follows them out as well, followed by Dante to see them off.
Outside, Marita is already in her dragon form, and Melissa climbs up to her back, nestling herself against the feathery fur between her wings. Shaking the other man’s hand, Elijah releases it and climbs up as well. The two dogs bark as Marita looks back at them speaking in her metallic-split voice.
“You two hold on tightly. You can’t hurt me by pulling on my fur, and I don’t want you to fall.” She explains before standing like a bear. Her wings spread out far as Elijah uses the rope he’d been given to tie around her, securing it behind himself when she comes back down to all four. Melissa sits before her father, clinging in great anticipation. With them secure, she again stands, this time crouching before jumping upward. Her body launches off of the ground high above the tree level, and once she stops climbing, her wings spread, catching her so she can fly. Melissa screams the entire time, held tightly by Elijah who clings to her and Marita both. Dante chuckles in amazement, watching, and then when they are out of sight, he returns to his little cabin.
The cold air of March is downright frigid up at the height Marita is at with her two passengers. She can’t fly high enough to protect herself from dragon hunters and other dragons or else Elijah and Melissa will freeze. If she could fly it continually, it wouldn’t take her but a half a day, though she had to slow down and it would take longer. Cuddling in their parkas against her fur, Elijah and Melissa held on through the flight. She could stay up only an hour at a time, landing again once in a clearing. It took them the entire day to go only a fraction of their trip and night is again falling upon them. Finding a field to land in away from people, she comes down. There is no snow, and most of the area is soft hay colored grass that is slowly turning green, though hard to see in the dark. Marita changes back into her human form while Elijah prepares a fire for them to sit around, and Melissa lays asleep. As the orange glow to the fire lights the field where they sit, Marita sits down beside Elijah. She didn’t need the warmth of the fire as he did but he sat shivering until the fire was finally large enough.
“You’re risking your life just to bring us to Taltoua. Why didn’t you leave us back with Dante?” Elijah speaks up finally.
“You have both suffered for me and because of me. You have saved my life and I won’t just abandon you.” Marita explain, though she couldn’t help but wonder why as well. Elijah shakes his head but Marita continues. “You two are all I have right now and I need to protect you.” Everything came spiraling down to that conclusion. She felt completely alone.
Elijah watches her explain this in awe. He remembers the story she told him about her mother, and her grandmother, her brother, and even her grandmother’s lover. He felt anxious for her and sad, yet scared for her and terrified suddenly that she might leave them somewhere and he would never see her again. Reaching over, he tucks a little of her hair behind her ear. It was meant to be an innocent gesture, moving the hair so he could see her eyes, but the moment his fingers touch the side of her cheek, he leans over, setting a kiss upon her lips. She blinks at both gestures, not used to being touched and certainly not expecting to be kissed. The kiss doesn’t last as she pulls back, eyes wide and staring at Elijah.
“I’m…I’m sorry. I only…it just happened.” Elijah stammers.
Marita is speechless as she can hear her heart pounding in her ears. She is already feeling the effects of the oncoming solstice. She looks down a little, trying to gather her thoughts, and trying to be reasonable.
“Elijah…I’m a priestess. They’ve told me that I can’t do these things…” She shakes her head gently as she tries to think of what exactly was told to her and why.
“But why? I’ve never heard such a thing before. Your mother was a priestess.” Elijah protests softly.
It takes a few moments of thinking but Marita leans over towards him and touches her lips to his. The moment she does he presses into the kiss and wraps his arms around her. Elijah had wanted to kiss her for a while. He couldn’t quite pin down which moment had sparked it, it just sort of grew. Marita felt instantly guilty, however. He was a man with a child, and he should still be in mourning over the loss of his wife, but she wanted this too. She begins to cry, and the kiss breaks as she hangs her head, covering her face with her hands. Bewildered, Elijah watches her wondering if he’d done something wrong.
“Had I known, I wouldn’t have kissed you…I’m sorry. What can I do?” Elijah asks.
“It’s not you.” Marita sniffles. “I’ve been told I was to remain pure and chaste. And I’ve never wanted to go against their words before, but the solstice is coming up and you’re…” She cries again into her hands.
Elijah remembers what she said about the solstice and suddenly feels very guilty, as though he were taking advantage of her. He stands, sliding a hand over her hair.
“I am sorry. I forgot what you’ve said and I should’ve waited until after the solstice to even say anything. It hadn’t bee my intention to upset you.” He falls quiet for a moment to see if she will say anything, but she doesn’t. “I’d better get some sleep. So should you.” He wanders off over to the area of gathered leaves and twigs Marita had put together and lays down, pulling his cloak around him. Melissa lays close by, and he watches her a moment before closing his eyes.
Marita finally calms herself enough to wipe the cold tears off of her face, and sits there a while longer; hoping Elijah would be asleep by the time she went to bed. Standing, she walks over to her bedding and sits, watching the fire. She can feel it raging against her skin. Hugging her knees to her chest, she closes her eyes, but the sight of her brother, tied to Io’s symbol is seared into her mind and he can’t figure out how she managed to get out of the temple alive. Io must have saved her. It was as simple as that. Her fingers slip around the symbol around her neck, but it wasn’t a vision of the classic Io which she sees when she does this. A mist dragon, fierce and angry at some injustice done to him, enters her mind. Her eyes blink open. It was Umaga…she knew sense of feeling he gave off almost intimately. Heart pounding she begins to realize what this necklace actually is, and just who saved her life.
Closing her eyes, she visualizes Umaga again and slips her fingers around the amulet as it begins to glow. Within her mind she is sitting in a pool of water, surrounded by mist and the dragon Umaga stands before her.
“Marita, you are a seer as you have known for a while now. You are the only one who can reach me this way. I am very sorry the gem has fallen to you. Your grandmother hid it with your mother, Lishala, who then passed it down to you. However, the gem comes with a price. There is an evil, dark angel after this gem, believing it to be an orb. Keep it safe, and deny you have the orb. Let him believe that what he is searching for is an orb.”
“I will have to face Nightbane? Again?” She was fearful at this.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. I’m not sure, but I don’t think those soldiers were there for you and your brother by chance.”
“I don’t know what to do. I’ve been praying to Io every day for answers to my questions but still, I’ve no resolutions.” Marita watches as the mist swirls around her in response.
“Desperate times are ahead for Spyridon. Just do what you can to keep the pendant safe, and pass it on to your daughter.” Umaga explains as his image begins to fade.
“But I’ll have no children…they’ve told me I’m not to.” Marita begins to grow frantic seeing his form fading.
“You will.” Upon speaking this, Umaga vanishes and a log settles in the fire pit, sending sparks into the air, which wakes her from her trance.
Waking with a start, she looks around their little camp, and all seems as it was before she had slept. Umaga’s words chilled her and her eyes drift over to Elijah, wondering what might be possible. Standing, she walks over to where he’s sleeping, and then kneels down fixing his cloak which he’s using as a blanket so that it’s covering him and keeping him warm. When she touches the cloak, his eyes open and he watches her as though it weren’t something he was actually seeing but more of a dream. Marita tilts her head a little and then slips down under his cloak, snuggling up against him. Giving him a small smile, she kisses him. The magic she uses to change her scales to clothing fades, and Elijah responds to the kiss.
* * *
March 16, 1504
Early in the morning, just before the sun is beginning to rise, Marita wakes, still in Elijah’s arms. She winces a little when she rolls over. Giving a sigh, she waits for it. The burning or scorching she is about to receive from Io for what she’d done last night. Nothing happens. Elijah stirs a little but doesn’t wake, and Melissa is still sound asleep. This was the time of morning when she would usually get up, go down to the bathing hall and be groomed for the day to begin. Malchior and she would sit and eat breakfast in the gardens before people would begin to arrive, move into the temple to pray after, and finally meet the worshipers. Her eyes well up, remembering her twin brother, and she silently begins to cry. Feeling Marita shaking gently, Elijah’s hand slides up to her face, feeling the tears on her cheek.
“Marita?” Elijah questions her tears.
“It’s nothing. I miss my brother.” Marita explains.
Elijah rolls her over so she’s facing him and cuddles her close, kissing her forehead. She begins to sob. Her crying is muffled into his chest. She hadn’t had a chance, really to grieve over the loss and now, as it’s quiet and there is someone to comfort her, it hits her like a wave washing over her. By the time the morning birds were beginning, and the sun was approaching the horizon, she settles to laying there, Elijah’s hand slipping through her hair. He’d never met her brother, but could relate to her loss and was deeply sorrowful for it. His eyes wander over to his daughter, sleeping by the fire, as she turns over on her bedroll, nearing waking but not quite. They were alone, as Marita is alone, now. Their trip to Taltoua would be their last, with luck, and they’d stay there, perhaps with Dante’s family at the Silver Raven Inn.
“Daddy?” The small voice comes from the opposite side of the fire.
Elijah sighs, and looks down at Marita, who sits up, wiping the frost from her face. Her magic morphs her clothing back into place and she stretches, standing, and then moves away from them. They would need to move…soon. Nightbane or the sorceress’ army could be near. Elijah gets up, snaps a twig from a tree and scrapes his teeth, spitting off to the side as he walks over to his daughter and sits.
“Hey, sleep okay?” He asks.
“Uh huh.” Sleepily rubbing her eyes, she replies.
“We’ve got to get going. We can get breakfast on the way. Marita’s about to…” But before he can finish his sentence, Marita is off in the field, her form shifting to that of her silvery cloud dragon form. She shakes her feathery white fur, freeing herself from the human form she normally takes on to fit in with humans and elves.
Melissa gets up pulling her cloak around herself and whines a little about being hungry to her father, but he silences her as they walk toward Marita. Marita croons a little as they approach, smiling what a dragon can smile as Melissa nuzzles into her nose, and then Marita nuzzles Elijah as well. She was happiest in her dragon form. Elijah chuckles, boosting Melissa up onto Marita’s back, and then passes the rope up to her so he can walk around, wrapping the rope around as he does. Once done, he climbs up as well, and sits behind Melissa.
“Are you two hungry?” Marita’s dual-tone voice asks.
“Yes!” Without waiting another moment, Melissa speaks up.
Marita nods and then begins to walk, giving the warning to hang on tightly. They clamp onto her fur, and then she takes off into the sky, nearly terrorizing a flock of birds in the process.
* * *
March 20, 1504
Their trip is difficult, and on the morning of the 20th, just a day away from the solstice, Marita wakes, shivering. Near a lake, their campsite isn’t but a day’s journey from Taltoua. Elijah rolls over to put his arm around Marita but finds her absent, and sits up, looking around. Spotting her by the lake on the shore, he gets up and walks down to the shoreline.
“Stop…don’t come near…” Marita’s voice is hushed and barely more than a whisper.
“Marita is something wrong?” Elijah asks, though he does stop.
“Tomorrow is the solstice…I can’t concentrate enough to change.” She begins to sob, holding her arms. “I’ve failed and can do nothing to stop myself.”
Elijah watches her very confused and then approaches. She stands and turns to face him, but the reaction isn’t one he had expected as she nearly leaps into his arms. She nuzzles his neck, humming a little as she speaks.
“Why don’t we go in for a swim? You’re the only one that can make me feel better now.” Her voice purrs out.
Not wanting to miss this opportunity, he glances over at Melissa who is still asleep and then scoops Marita up into his arms, carrying her out into the lake.
Lying beneath a willow tree, Marita lays on her back against Elijah, looking up at the morning sun through the willow switches which sway in the breeze. Her body is no longer shivering though the feeling within is no where near ended. For now though she is happy.
“Marita, will you be returning to Seixuso? When everything is said and done that is.” Elijah couldn’t help but ask. It had been gnawing away at him for some time now.
“I don’t know.” Marita’s response comes quickly, but then she falls silent, no longer happy as she is beginning to realize that her feelings for Elijah are very strong. “You could always come back to the temple with me when I go back.”
“It’ll be too dangerous for Melissa to be part of that battle.” Elijah replies but watches Marita’s eyes fall sad. “I will wait for you.”
Marita’s eyes slip from the willow switches over to Elijah who is perched and hovering now above her. The promise makes her smiles a little as she realizes Elijah is in love with her. She had hoped it wasn’t the knowledge of the solstice driving Elijah as it was driving herself.
“I love you.” Marita admits quietly to Elijah.
Elijah is so taken aback by the confession that he feels his breath catch in his throat. Leaning down over her he kisses her. He wasn’t caring that they were unwed or that he is a grieving widower with a daughter, and she isn’t thinking much about it either, as the solstice is driving her to be blind to most of these things. Again the waves hit her and she is lost, hearing Elijah in her ear.
“I love you too.” He whispers.
Waking from her morning nap she finds Elijah no longer beside her and sits up looking around, shivering with the breeze that hits her. She gets up and spots Elijah and Melissa splashing in the water, playing. Unable to keep from smiling, she chuckles, her skin polymorphing to the clothing she normally assumed to wear. Wading into the water, it feels icy cold to her, sign she is feverish.
“Hey, morning sleepy head!” Melissa yells out, giggling.
“Good morning, mind if I stretch out?” Which Melissa and Elijah knew meant Marita wanted to change into her dragon form.
“Not at all, we’ll move onto shore for you to change.” Elijah smiles and lifts Melissa up and out of the water, walking to the edge and onto shore while Marita shifts into her dragon form.
“That’s better.” Marita stretches out in the water and rolls onto her back. She is so big, though, that in this form, she isn’t fully submerged in the small lake. “Feel free to come back in.”
Melissa giggles, watching the dragon in the water, rolling around like a dog in a puddle. Elijah brings Melissa back into the water and sets her down. It’s not so deep that she can’t touch and still be above water. Elijah approaches Marita and runs his hands over her soft fur, and she chortles in response. Melissa climbs up onto Marita’s belly and scratches there, making Marita laugh at being tickled.
Marita’s laughter stops and her head lifts out of the water. There was a flash of being drawn, strong and almost immediate. She nearly knocks Melissa off but stops herself, whispering to Melissa to get down.
“We need to go. Now.” Marita turns back over once Melissa is safely with Elijah.
Elijah and Melissa climb up onto Marita, and she scrambles to get out of the water. In the distance, a bugling sound echoes, but is barely heard by the two humans. Melissa leans forward, clinging to Marita since they don’t have the rope in place, and Elijah leans over her, holding onto Marita as well.
“Marita! What’s going on?” Elijah speaks over the roar of rushing wind from Marita’s wings which are working to get them off the ground.
“Another dragon is coming…a male.” Marita replies as she manages to get up into the sky.
Elijah realizes immediately what this means and falls silent, holding tight so neither he nor Melissa falls off. Climbing up to their safe height however proves to be dangerous, as both humans are wet and start to shiver without the protection of their cloaks. Marita rushes in her flight, hurrying towards the east but it isn’t fast enough. Ahead of them, a large White Dragon breaks through the clouds, speeding towards Marita. A sound like a shriek comes from Marita as she pulls up fast, darting upward towards the clouds, and Melissa screams.
“Marita! Put us down and leave us…get away from him!” Elijah knew if she didn’t put them down, she’d never escape the White Dragon.
Marita twists over into a roll, falling back down through the clouds, pawing at the air to stop herself, however, as she slams into the back of the White Dragon. She pushes off and away from him, aiming for the ground as fast as she can. The White Dragon waivers in the air a moment when shoved off of, but comes back fast and reaches out with his talons, grabbing at Marita’s tail, sinking his claws into it. Nearly one hundred feet in the air, she doesn’t want her passengers to fall and she bellows out from the pain in her tail. It would be harder to turn with an injured tail. She looks back at the White Dragon who seems to be focusing in on Elijah and Melissa now. Still moving downward she looks forward again, thinking the lake may be the only place she could drop them. Flicking her tail a few times she manages to shake the White Dragon loose, but the beast growls, lurching forward to grab her again, this time at her haunches. She felt no desire to mate with this dragon, and upon realizing this lack of desire, she realized it may be because she had already mated and conceived. Dragons only feel the mating desire during solstice and equinox if they aren’t readying to clutch.
“When I get low enough…jump to the lake…” Her voice comes pained to Elijah, and he looks back at the White Dragon, seeing the blood on Marita’s back legs where her hips would be, and the claws clutching into the wounds. He looks back to her, though she’s already looking at the approaching lake.
Elijah slips his arm around Melissa’s waist telling her they’d be jumping into the water, and waits for the right moment. The moment doesn’t arrive as the White Dragon releases Marita’s right hip and swipes at Elijah and Melissa. Both passengers yell and scream, knocked from Marita’s back. The fall into the lake, but Elijah doesn’t resurface and Melissa does, coughing and choking.
“No!” Marita yells as it happens, flipping over to the left since her right side has been released. She tucks her wings down, now falling, but the White Dragon clamps onto her, wings spread, which slows both his and her fall. The White Dragon, wild eyed, clamps down onto Marita’s shoulder area at the base of her long neck, trying to entwine his tail with hers. She bellows out against this, her eyes tightly closing as she feels the pain in her neck and then at the base of her tail. Bringing her back legs up, she rakes out at him. Her sharp claws, used to maintain balance on ice are sharp, and because she lives in the mountains, they are large to grip rock and climb. Mustering all of her own strength, she shoves at the beastly White Dragon, ripping his chest and stomach open. He falls limp against her as she slams into the water, and then flings him off of herself. Melissa had made it out of the water before and Elijah had as well, laying on the beach, but isn’t moving. Seeing Marita slam into the water, and throw the White Dragon, dead and bloody, off of her, Melissa runs out into the water over to Marita, crying and clinging to her. Marita lifts her head to see the young girl crying and groans in pain, feeling the searing wounds of her tail, neck, lower back, and the underside of the base of her tail. She rolls slowly over, drawing a paw up against Melissa, holding her against her in a sort of hug, and then lifts her up onto her back, as she turns fully onto her stomach.
“Daddy won’t wake!” Melissa sobs to Marita.
Horrified by this exclamation, Marita limps over to where Elijah is laying, and nudges him. He groans and Marita can see the wound on his back. The nudge makes him cough up some water.
“Elijah…” Marita speaks quietly trying to rouse him but her voice is edging on tears. “Elijah?” There is still barely a response.
Scooping Elijah up into her talon carefully, her claws no where near injuring him, she hobbles out of the water, leaving the bloody mess behind and takes off into the sky, though she’s unsteady. She flies slow and low, much to the dismay of many onlookers who cry out that there’s a dragon, and some even attempt to throw spears at her, but Melissa screams at them to stop. The trip to Taltoua takes from morning till night, and by night, Melissa is coughing and Marita can feel the child has a fever. Seeing the lights below of the inn, and a lake, she realizes everything she is seeing is double. The air begins to be difficult to breathe, her head is spinning, and her face turns hot. In a panic, she tries to land, knowing she’s about to black out, and the pains begin to hit her stomach and sides. Her body slams into the ground instead of the lake, upon the rocky and sandy shore partly, leaving a major indentation in the ground, and Melissa jerks forward, clinging, but then slides down and off over the side, landing on her feet before she sinks to her knees and lays down.
Marita opens her eyes and finds she is in her human form, though she didn’t remember changing into it. Her entire body hurts and when she starts to move, a soft voice of a man comes from a short distance away.
“Try not to move too much.” He says.
Marita lowers her head back down and closes her eyes. Suddenly the memory of Elijah comes to her and she can’t help herself but sit up. She hears a chesty sounding cough from over near where the man is sitting, and looks around. She is inside a small room, which looks like the room of an inn. Melissa is sick, and Marita can tell by the smell that it’s likely pneumonia. Looking around more, she sees on the floor, a blanket laid out with a rag rolled, and Elijah lying upon it, on his stomach. Despite the objections from the large man sitting beside Melissa, Marita climbs out of bed, sliding down to the floor and crawls over to Elijah.
“Elijah…?” She gently shakes him and his eyes open looking up at her.
“Marita…” His voice is quiet and it spurs Marita into crying.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve left you both with Dante.” She couldn’t stop herself now from crying, but Elijah watches her and rolls a little onto his side with some strain. The look on his face wasn’t for fear or anger but sorrow.
“Don’t apologize.” He swallows biting back a cough. “Marita, I’m glad I met you, and no matter what, remember I loved you…”
“Elijah don’t start talking like that, it’s just a few cuts, right? You’ll be fine right?” She frantically asks, panicking a little. “Stop talking like that! You can’t be saying these things…” But her words are interrupted by Elijah’s hand slipping up to her lips. She leans down, wincing a little and kisses him. She begins to sob, though when his lips go limp on hers and she collapses against him, trying to mutter healing spells but she is so drained of energy that nothing happens.
“Don’t…you need to save your own strength.” The large man explains, standing to walk over and stop her. He reaches down, lifting Marita off of Elijah who had slipped peacefully into death. Marita lashes out weakly at the man but her efforts are fruitless and he puts her on her feet, holding her still. “There’s nothing you can do for him now in your condition, and you need to get better quickly…this one over here, Melissa, she needs to be healed.”
“Daddy?” Melissa’s voice, strained, can be heard from the bed. “Daddy?” It comes again higher pitched as she is realizing he’s dead. “Daddy!” Melissa screams out, coughing after to the point of nearly being unable to breathe.
Marita crosses the room, limping a little, and climbs onto the bed with Melissa. Her own body is cold compared to Melissa’s fevered body, and she presses up against the child, hugging her, though she’s still crying. Melissa latches onto Marita crying as well. The large man sits at the end of the bed.
“He’s gone on to Io…when Io calls, there’s no denying him what he wants. He’s at peace now from the pain.” He explains.
“Don’t preach Io’s word to me…I am the high priestess of Io from Seixuso and know the words of his teachings. This was my fault! I brought this about and it was my punishment!” Marita cries, truly believing this was some punishment for her breaking her chastity.
“I’m Arshes…but most call me Draco. I found you on the shore of the lake outside the inn. I’m…half silver dragon, so I changed you to an easier form for me to carry, and took you inside here, along with the others.” He was hesitant about saying that he was half-dragon because he knew what yesterday had been. Spring equinox. She had slept through the day. “There’s something else you should know…”
“I was to clutch…” Marita quietly says.
“Well…yeah.” He was a little confused how she knew it was what he was going to say.
“What happened?” She asks.
“When you hit the ground…” He hesitates, but she nods understanding that any egg or eggs she’d been carrying were gone.
“Thank you…” She whispers, her hand sliding over Melissa’s forehead.
“For what?” He looks at her confused.
“Just thank you.” She didn’t know how to express herself. She was furious and hurting, in pain and sad, but his helping them just made it seems easier. She looks over at Draco and watches him busying himself with the small fireplace in the room, and lets herself fall to sleep again.
IV. MELIA & KICHIRO
February 3, 1905
Marita lies in the cave upon the piles of gold within, stretching out with a yawn. Up from above on a high ledge, two small dragons, barely more than hatchlings, jump down, trying to use their wings, and land on Marita. She jumps with a start but then growls a little.
“You two are going to get hurt. I’ve told you before; your wings are just not ready.” She explains to Meliasha and Drake.
The two toddler dragons run around the room chasing each other, nearly identical, though only because they are fraternal twins. With dragons, fraternal twins are not very common. Typically there are both male and female in a clutch, though the shells of the eggs are not identical. With any sort of twin, the shells are identical. Meliasha and Drake jump over a few small piles of coins and jewels in their chasing, sliding out of control strait into the forefoot of their father. Blinking they look up at the massive Silver Dragon. One of his paws is clasped, though whatever is in it cannot be seen. He looks down at the hatchlings giving a slight snort, which sends the two scattering, one tugging at his tail and the other trying to climb his wing. He looks over at Marita.
“Marita, there was a messenger from Elleyra at the temple. He left a letter for you.” Draco was trying to be patient with the hatchlings, but was very curious to know what was in the letter.
Marita’s form shift and shrinks down to the human form she only sometimes assumed, these days. Often the hatchlings were confused by this form, and overly curious, but with Draco there to maintain them, it would be fine. Draco smirks a little while watching, as much as a dragon can smirk. Though he is half Silver Dragon and wouldn’t typically be able to assume a dragon form, he is also half fae. The combination wasn’t typical at all; it was very rare that a fae would mate outside its own species. It was rare long ago that dragons would either. Marita and Draco had had an on again off again sort of relationship after Elijah passed away, and for many years wouldn’t see each other at all. It had only been in the last few years that they confessed their feelings to each other. Their friendship had grown into more than just friendship. It had been very shortly after that when a Dragon Season hit, the winter solstice, and they chose not to go separate ways for it. Within the next day, Marita had clutched and two years later, Meliasha and Drake hatched.
Walking over to Draco’s paw, he opens it and let her take the letter to read. Her brow furrows, a hand sliding up to her temple trying to make sense of what she is reading. Draco watches her intently despite Drake biting at his tail. Finally she sinks down to kneel. She sighs and lets her form shift back to the dragon form.
“Is it bad?” Draco watching her asks.
“It is.” She looks up at him and Draco could see the pain clearly in her eyes. “The Cleric’s Council is calling all clerics to Elleyra…”
“Oh…is that all?” He blinks and asks.
“Well, no. Only the cleric and their children may live there. No spouses or mates, or any other relative according to this.”
“Wait, what? You have to go without me?” He asks, confused.
“Yes. To live there.” She hurries into the next part of why she has to go. “They said that something’s about to happen that may put me in danger and that it’d be best for everyone if I went. The island is small and there’s little room.”
Draco listens but he isn’t really listening. He’d stopped at ‘Yes.’ Frowning he looks at her.
“If it’s what you want then…” Saying this, he turns and picks up Drake, setting him aside, and lifts off Meliasha from his back, setting her by her brother. He starts walking back out through the hall he’d come through.
“Draco please don’t think like that! This isn’t my choice and I have to think of our children!”
“We’ve gone without seeing each other for fifteen years before. I’m sure we’ll manage again.” He doesn’t stop walking, leaving the cave.
Marita lunges after him, tackling him to the ground with a growl. He looks up at her without attempting to get out of her grasp. His body is bigger and stronger but he has no will to fight her.
“If you walk out of here right now and vanish again on one of your wandering trips, without saying goodbye, and without so much as a promise of seeing me again, I swear it you’ll go with a scar!” Marita was verging on tears as it was. The thought of losing Draco into the world without some hope seemed almost inevitable, and was horrifying to her. The hatchlings wander out to see what’s going on.
“Very well.” He sighs and Marita retracts her claws, but doesn’t unpin him. “I’ll go tomorrow.” He couldn’t stand the thought of losing his family. He hadn’t settled down in all of his years, and now when he does, it’s torn to pieces.
They spend the day together, all four of them, though the hatchlings weren’t aware of what was going on. And after the hatchlings are well asleep, they change their forms to their human-like forms and spend their time together in their den. Marita weeps on and off, and Draco holds her, doing his best to comfort her, though he is just as upset. Marita can’t sleep and they spend the night talking, making love, and simply holding each other, until finally Marita falls to sleep, just before dawn. Once she is asleep, Draco cries and shortly after, also falls into sleep.
When Marita wakes, it’s to the sound of the twins playing in their clutching den, she rolls over to slip her arm over Draco and he’s gone. Sitting up quickly, she changes her form and leaves her den, sniffing at the air, but all she can smell is Draco’s smell from before, and nothing current. She gives out a bellow call that’s soft enough to not rattle the walls of the cave, but there is no response, except for the hatchlings, scurrying in to see her. She slumps into a sit, hanging her head. When the twins come over to see what’s wrong, she nuzzles them and explains.
“We’ve got some packing to do, we’re leaving Seixuso.”
* * *
Over the course of one hundred years, the planet of Spyridon underwent an upheaval in climate. Rains became sparse and few in between. The climate shifted towards being more desert than anything. It was determined only twenty seven years ago, in 1980, that the cause of this was the depletion of magic, known as magic essence, from the dragon spirit of the planet, Spyridon herself. Spyridon was dying. A group of elite Psionic soldiers knows as the Anti Magic Elite Alliance was formed, creating an alliance between all species when a Psionic was found who possessed specific qualities, namely several psychic powers. The group is commonly known as the A.M.E.A., or “Amy.” Many feared the group however because of renegade psionics who misused the power they were given. It was in 1980 that the A.M.E.A. was formed by a group of both scientists and clerics. One of the clerics was Cassandra DeLeona, daughter to Mariah who claimed to be the daughter of an angel. Cassandra used her magic with the other clerics to create a cavern of crystals, which when placed into an area, gave an area effect of magic detection that was very broad. These crystals were harvested and smoothed, placed into fittings, and then surgically placed into the hands of the A.M.E.A. agents and members. Whenever magic was used, they knew and could appear there if it was in their range. The renegade agents would use this to hunt down mages, and would torture them before branding and banding them with the scanable barcode, and the metal earring cuff that was magically enhanced to prevent the use of magic. The world was becoming a terrifying place for magic users. However, feeling the planet’s demise the most would’ve been the elementals and the dragons.
* * *
June 25, 2000
Another cough comes from her mother’s bedroom and Meliasha stops, listening to its sound. It doesn’t sound good and she knows her mother is riddled with pain. Her mother, Marita, had been in failing heath the last ten years or so and she couldn’t find out how to contact her father to tell him. Her mother had hidden any letters that had come to the house. Curled in her bed, she sniffles, a few icy tears slipping from her nose. She’d been taking care of her mother since she’d become ill but she was still young, and scared. Drake, her brother, had come and gone as he pleased. And while Melia loved him and missed him, she hated him for leaving her there all alone. It was supposed to be her mother’s birthday today and yet the cake went untouched, the beautiful blanket unopened, and the candles completely melted. Marita never came down.
Drake was always off on trips to visit the tribes of dragons. Because of the drought, the numbers of dragons had fallen to a staggering low, and some species had nearly become extinct. He had taken up the call to serve Io young, and so he’d gone to minister to the tribes, which no longer forbid interracial breeding. Once a season, at the equinox, the tribes would gather, pulled together for three nights to mate, meet, and potentially find life partners. Melia never attended these. She had no real desire to mate while she was not considered an adult, nor did she want to leave her ailing mother alone.
Sliding off of her bed, she walks out onto her balcony of the beach house styled home, and follows it down to the end where there is another door leading back inside. The room is open so she walks in and over to the canopy bed that is covered in mosquito netting, sitting on a chair. Her delicate white hand reaches out, lifting what would be its identical match, but instead lifts a frail and slightly withered hand.
“Mom, are you okay?” Melia asks, worried about her mother.
“Just a cough Sweetie, you should really be out enjoying the day.” Marita smiles to Melia.
“It’s your birthday, Mom. I made you a cake…there’s a blanket downstairs for you too.”
“Melia…I know you don’t want to face this but it’s something you will need to face, probably sooner than I’d like and sooner than you would like. I’m dying. Something that is happening to Spyridon is affecting me as well and it’s draining me. I can see it in your face too that it’s taking its toll on you. Your eyes are sunken a little and you’re always tired.”
“From worrying about you. It’s nothing, really. Why can’t Drake heal you? Why won’t you tell me where our dad is so I can bring him here? I’m sure he’s worried.” Melia insists.
“He doesn’t know, and you’re not going to bring him here. I loved your father very, very much, and I still do. But he is a free spirit, just like your brother. He is very much like his father. To harness a free spirit is to lock them up and make them miserable. I won’t do that to either of them and if your father comes here, that’s what will happen. And for how long? How much time do I have? A year? Two? Knowing each day when he wakes that I will die…I see how you suffer in knowing it and I don’t want him to suffer too.” Marita sits up and pulls from around her neck a pendant of Io. “My mother, Lishala, gave this to me when I became high priestess in Seixuso. However, it’s not what you think it is. Treat it as merely a pendant of Io though. Don’t let anyone else have it, not even for a moment. You need to protect it at all costs. Melia, all costs.”
“All right…I understand.” Melia was confused, however, and she accepts the pendant as her mother slips it over her head. Lifting it she looks at the red gem inside and something inside of her makes her swell and nearly come to tears. “What is wrong with it? Why do I feel this way?” She looks to her mother.
“Perhaps in time you will know.” Marita says no more about the pendant and drifts off into sleep.
* * *
February 12, 2003
Melia wakes later than usual, not hearing her mother’s coughing which had steadily grown over time. Stepping out of her room, she peers into Drake’s room and he’s out cold, sprawled over his bed spread-eagle. Giving a small smirk she thought to go in and pounce her twin but the pendant at her chest catches her attention. It’s warm against her skin, and nearly hot. Lifting it she looks at it but it looks no different, however in that moment a sensation comes through her and she turns, jogging the length of the hall, throwing her mother’s door open. Upon the bed is a still, gray form of a woman, not breathing, rigid, and plainly dead. Crying out a little, she covers her mouth, sinking to her knees onto the floor in the doorway. Marita’s body had no life to it as though it had been dead years, nearly a skeleton. Time for her seemed to slow to a stand still, freezing the air and yet burning her face where her tears were already flowing down her cheeks. Unable to speak for a moment, she can only sob, gasping for breath that seemed to have left her upon opening the door. Finally it returns to her and she pulls her cheek away from the doorframe, inhaling and yelling.
“Drake!” Her voice sounds tortured before breaking into sobs again. Her body shakes and shivers. She’d known this day would come but hadn’t expected it to be like this.
Drake scrambles to get out of his bed, tangled in the sheets, and slams to the floor before he manages to get up to his feet. He rounds through the door, heading for his mother’s room, finding Melia distraught just before he discovers why. He stops, staring in disbelief as Melia pulls herself up Drake’s legs and into his arms.
“Go get the priest.” Drake ushers his sister away from the door, knowing she wouldn’t be of any use at the moment if she stood there as she was.
Melia stands there with her hands over her face for a moment before Drake tells her to go again in a near angry tone. Quickly, she runs down the stairs and out of the house. Drake crosses the threshold of the room, over to the bedside and gingerly lifts the tiny wrist, searching for a pulse but there is none. Normally a dragon’s body would vanish; a Cloud Dragon would become a wisp of cloud, which would drift off up into the rest of the clouds in the sky. However when a dragon’s body is drained of its energy, such as through the attack of a succubus or in this case, the planet losing magic, the body stays in whatever form it was last in. Drake sets the hand down. She had died in her sleep apparently. Silently he slips into the chair beside the bed, hands clasped around the pendant he wears and whispers prayers. When finished, he walks over to the desk, removed a notepad from a drawer and a pen, and writes out a note:
Dearest Melia,
I knew this day would come but I’m sorry, I can’t stay. I’ll explain next time we see each other. Remember, I sense everything you do, so no matter where you go, I will know how to find you. I am truly sorry I can’t be here for you through this. It’s just too much.
Sincerely,
Drake
Drake slips the note pad onto the bed on his mother’s chest, kisses his mother’s forehead and then hurries to leave. He would get his things another time, when he knew Melia wouldn’t be there. The house would become his, and he would come back to claim it when Melia was too old to stay on the island, since she isn’t a cleric and only clerics are allowed, and their children. Sneaking out the back door, he can hear his sister and the priest enter through the front door, and he heads off.
“Drake?” Melia calls up the stairs as she leads the priest up to the second floor. “Drake! I brought the priest…Drake?” Melia looks around unable to find her brother as the priest goes into the room with Marita.
“Meliasha, you may want to see this.” the priest calls out to Melia, holding the notepad.
Melia abandons her search for her brother and walks into the room, though her eyes are transfixed upon her mother, more tears rolling fresh down her cheeks. The priest steps over to close the distance and stand between mother and daughter, taking hold of on of her arms to get her attention.
“Meliasha, I think you should see this.” He hands her the notepad.
Reading it over she collapses again, but the priest catches her, holding her against his shoulder as she sobs. Her mother died, her brother left, and she still didn’t know where her father is. It seemed to her that her life had just crumbled before her very eyes. The priest moves her over to sit in an arm chair and then goes over to the bed to say the prayers he came to say. Melia watches, pulling herself fully up into the chair as she did when she slept in the room to monitor her mother, her head resting on one of the arms. She decided, as she sat there, that her mother should be cremated. It wasn’t right that her body was earth bound. She felt her mother’s body should return to the sky as it should. And there was a tree Melia knew of just outside of Seixuso. Dead and twisted, but still standing, it is one of the last trees on the outskirts of the holy city before the desert starts. She decided she would spread the ashes there. As she watches the priest, another man comes in, and she recognizes him to be a doctor on the island. He comes over to her but she doesn’t really hear what he says before the doctor goes to the bed, lifting Marita’s body into his arms, cradling the frail, ghostly body that had, yesterday, looked only ill, not emancipated. Discussion between the doctor and priest reveals that the island will allow her to stay in the house until she is of age in two years, but then she’d have to leave. Immediately she knew she would go looking for her father. The doctor carries the body out, and the priest follows, leaving Melia to grieve alone.
* * *
January 30, 2005
Aranova
The twin moons cast a sort of blue glow to the desert as Melia drives across the sand in a dune buggy. For several miles it had been sputtering and she knew it was going to give out at any moment. It wasn’t a big deal, except that she wanted to use the buggy to get around in any city or town she came to. As she rounds the top of the dune she’d been climbing, she realizes it’s not a slight slope, but a very steep one. She gasps, sand rushing into her face, and realizes that the back end of the buggy is coming up first. The buggy tilts onto the front passenger side, throwing Melia out of the cage. She lands hard in the icy sand, a burst of sparks fill her vision, but it’s not from the buggy. Covering her head, she hears the buggy land nearby but it doesn’t hit her. Feeling dizzy, she curls up. The cold desert night is a relief to her aching head. She can feel the distinctly cold feeling of her blood, spilling out of a gash in her shoulder, solidifying the sand beneath her. Once the engine died on the buggy, the night falls silent, only the headlights stay on as a beacon as she slips into sleep.
Ladesko had been working in Weaponry Junction, Aranova’s weapon shop, when he heard a strange noise coming from the eastern desert. Finishing his work up, he locks up the store and walks out into the desert, following the glowing lights that highlight the clouds above and the sand below. Nearly a mile out, he finally spots the overturned dune buggy and hums a bit to himself. As he rounds upon the vehicle, he spots a shallow movement, dust and sand covered from her travels, with a blue stained area beneath her shoulder, her white sheet-like robes she’d worn to protect her from the sun, torn at the shoulder that’s bleeding. Ladesko rushes over towards the bundled body, throwing himself down to his knees in the sand to check for signs of life.
“Hey are you okay? Come on, wake up…” He pulls the tinted goggles from the dirty face, examining her features with some slight intrigue. Her brow furrows, and seeing her move, he scoops her up to carry her back into the city.
As soon as he gets Melia into his
arms, he notices the cold temperature of her skin. Pulling his hand out from under her shoulder, he
sees it covered in the dark, cold blood.
Immediately he understands that she’s a dragon by the blood’s scent. A familiar scent. However he can’t quite place it. The trip back into town isn’t long and within
fifteen minutes or so, he’s back on
“Please leave it. It’s all I’ve got from my mom…my money’s in my boot…” Melia murmurs.
“I’m not trying to steal it, just see it.” He replies but she’s already asleep again. When her hand slips off of his, he pulls the necklace into the open to be seen but drops it immediately, standing and stepping away from the edge of the couch. Grabbing for the phone, he calls for the emergency service and has an ambulance sent to collect her.
Melia vaguely realizes she’s awake, listening to the beeping of the hospital’s machines which are monitoring her vitals. She tests her eyes, opening them to look around, seeing she’s in a hospital room, and at the end of the bed is a girl, who looks to be human at first, about 14 or 15 years old, though she has silvery-gray hair, pale white skin, and bright blue eyes. Melia sighs out, pulling the wire-laden hand up to her forehead. No injuries to her head at least, she notes. Then the deep, sharp pain of her shoulder is realized as she moves to put the arm down of the same shoulder. She winces and the girl slips off the bed, walking over to her side.
“You shouldn’t move it around too much. It’ll be in a sling for a while.” The girl says to Melia.
“How did I get here?” Melia asks, assuming she must work there or is the one who brought her there.
“I think an ambulance brought you.” She lifts the chart at the end of the bed. “Says someone named Ladesko found you in the desert and called an ambulance.”
“Who are you?” Melia asks her, realizing that she wasn’t the one who called for her.
“My name’s Bethany…Beth…usually.” The girl explains.
Melia uses her good arm to help herself sit up. She looks herself over but it didn’t seem she had any other injuries so she must’ve been lucky. Then in a realization, she reaches to her chest, but feels the Io pendant, and knows it hasn’t been taken. She isn’t sure if that had been a dream or not and she begins to wonder if the man had been Ladesko. She couldn’t remember much of what he looks like. Then, her attention turns to the girl, Beth. It becomes suddenly obvious.
“You’re a dragon.” Melia hadn’t actually met any other dragons except for her own family. Beth chuckles in a tomboyish way.
“Yep.” She adjusts the baseball style hat she’s wearing. “I heard a dragon had turned up hurt here so I thought I’d pop in and see who it was. I was told you were the daughter of High Priestess Marita.”
“Yeah…my mom, she died a couple of years ago. Who told you?” Melia watches Beth a little suspiciously.
“A little bird. Doesn’t matter really. I just wanted to check on you to see that you were all right. Seeing that you are, I’ll head out and let them know you’re awake. Nice to meet you Melia.” Beth heads for the door without waiting for any reaction to her words.
Melia watches her go, slightly confused, but in near awe over the fact that another dragon had just been in there. The door isn’t closed more than a minute or two before a nurse comes in to check her vitals. After the evaluation, the nurse heads out to inform the doctor, who comes in to check her over as well. The final verdict is that she can check out. To her relief, they tell her that her bill has been taken care of, but wouldn’t say by whom. She steps out into the desert sun and it hits her hard. She stays close to the building, squinting, until a cloak is placed over her shoulders, and a hood is pulls up over her head. She turns to see who placed it over her and stares a bit at the face of Lade. She feels herself blush after a moment, in embarrassment. This was the person who had saved her, and she had suspected him to be a thief last night.
“You’re Ladesko?” She asks him.
“Yeah, you okay to be let out yet?” He asks her.
“They said so. Look, about last night, I didn’t know what I was saying…”
“Yeah I know. You should get out of the heat. Besides, I think we should talk.” He adds.
“Sure…and, how did you know about the heat thing?” She blinks, asking.
“You’ll understand after we talk. Come on, my apartment is close.” Lade explains as he leads her back to his place.
Melia steps inside to the air conditioned apartment, despite the time of the year, and sighs. It’s a relief to be in the cold dry air, verses warm dry air. Pulling the cloak off, she hands it over to Lade and takes a seat when Lade says to make herself at home. She looks around the apartment as he goes into the small galley kitchen. It’s sparse, with little lighting, an old reclining arm chair, couch where she’s sitting, no pictures upon the walls, books piled onto the bookshelves that cover most empty wall space, dusty coffee table that has a stack of motorcycle magazines, a shoe box which is peaking her curiosity but she’s not going to look inside unless he tells her to, and a television with radio on a small TV stand. There’s only a small floor lamp with a low watt bulb but in reality she felt very at home there, though a bit claustrophobic. Lade comes back out of the kitchen with two glasses of ice water and hands her one, sitting I his recliner. She got the sense that he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
“So you know about the heat thing?” She asks, hoping to help.
“I’m a dragon…well…half dragon, really. I’m half sidhe too…they’re called fae most of the time.” He explains and something in Melia’s mind catches this information.
“Oh, that’s funny, I just met
another dragon at the hospital named
“No, actually, I didn’t know of any other dragons in the area before you came into town last night.”
“Ugh, my buggy…I almost forgot about it. I didn’t realize the dunes were so big here and the back just went up and over as I went nearly straight down the side.” Melia sits back against the couch.
“Where did you drive in from?” Lade chuckles a little, thinking of the bouncing buggy going over the dune.
“Well I flew from Elleyra to the mainland, caught a train to the trading post of Taltoua, and then caught a trader heading for Seixuso. I stopped in there to visit my mother’s tree and headed for my den to get money and to drop off the rest of my stuff…after I came of age I had to leave Elleyra so I left my brother’s stuff in the house there and took all or most of mine and didn’t want to travel with it all the time. So from Seixuso I rented the buggy and drove here.”
“Why didn’t you just fly?” Lade blinks a bit, asking.
“Because there are many who fear dragons now, and I didn’t want to come under attack.” Melia explains.
“Makes sense.” He nods. “So your mother is a cleric on Elleyra?”
“Yeah, well, was…my brother’s one too, but he comes and goes…and I’m sort of ticked at him right now.”
“Why’s that?”
“I’m angry with my brother because he left at a very bad time…and my mom’s not one now because she passed away, which is when my brother left.” Her voice is soft in her explanation. Lade hangs his head at this news and Melia watches him a moment. “Are you…okay?”
“Your mother was Marita?”
“Er…yeah, why did you know her?”
“A long time ago I did. I hadn’t heard she’d died though. What happened?” He asks, though it’s paining him and he’s struggling in holding back tears.
“Her explanation was that as the magic was drained from the planet, her own strength and life force was drained, too. I felt it too but not as much. And then one night as she slept, it just claimed her. She suffered for years, so it was a blessing that it took her in her sleep.”
At this he couldn’t hold it an with his elbows resting on his knees, he hangs his head, his face buried into his hands, silent, though Melia can see a few tears slipping from between his hands. She stands up and walks over, sitting on the arm of his chair and hesitates before rubbing his back.
“She had a good life in Elleyra,
about one hundred years there. She was
highly respected and held a high position in the
“I’m your father…my name was Draco and before that Arshes. No one told me she died…no one even told me she was ill…I would’ve come…I would’ve taken her, and you, and Drake, away from there to find someone…anyone who could’ve done something…”
Melia is listening but she’s not really hearing much, staring now dumbfounded at the man who just claimed to be her father, and who gave information only her father would know. It had to be true and she doesn’t know how to react.
“She…she said you’d say that…when I argued with her to write to you.” Melia stammers. Lade sniffles some, lifting his head, his hand wiping at his face to clear it, sweeping his shoulder length hair out of his face.
“Did she? She always knew everyone better than she knew herself.” He looks up at Melia. “You look so much like her. I’ve not seen you since you were just a baby. Your brother either. I wanted to, desperately, but your mom said she was convinced it would be dangerous for you and your brother to leave the island. She never said she was sick.”
“I’ve been looking for you. When she died I found the envelopes you sent letters in, never found the letters though. I wrote to all of those places but for the last couple years I never received a return on any of them.”
“I moved here about two years ago. I sent a letter but never heard back from her. Now I know why.”
“I never found the envelope with this address, so I never really knew to look here; I only assumed you might’ve continued this way.” Melia stands and walks back over to the couch to sit.
“I’m glad you did, but you should be more careful out in the desert. You could’ve been killed by the Brown Dragons or the heat itself…if not a broken neck.” Lade almost grins.
“Okay, now you’re sounding like mom.” She sighs a little. “You like to travel a lot; Drake is a lot like you in that way.”
“Is he? I wish I could’ve seen you two sooner. I’ve wondered how you were all these years. I tried to write to you both, but your mother felt it would encourage you to leave Elleyra.”
“It would’ve. I wanted to, so many times. Drake did all the time. He would go join the tribes of dragons at the solstice and equinoxes, but she’d never let me.”
“You know what they do there, don’t you?”
“Well, sort of, but not entirely. I just wanted to be part of the other dragons. I hadn’t even met another until you and Bethany.” She explains.
“Well you’re welcome to stay with me, of course. Do you know where Drake is?”
“Sometimes I do, but I don’t right now. I…can sort of sense that he’s asleep.” She says as she’s staring a bit and then comes back to looking at Lade. “But I don’t know where he is sleeping.”
“You two have a psychic link?” He asks.
“Yep, we’ve known for about fifty years or so I guess.”
“All right, then if you find out how to tell him you found me, let him know. For now, though, I need to go to work. Will you be okay here by yourself with your arm?”
“Yeah, I’m not a kid…Dad.” Melia smirks a bit, and Lade grins, getting up to get ready. “Where do you work?”
“Down at the weaponry shop. It’s called Weaponry Junction, at the eastern
end of
“I will.” She smiles to Lade and he heads out of his apartment to go to work.
* * *
July 5, 2006
Aranova
Highly annoyed by her brother, Melia wads a set of his nasty socks up and hurls them at Drake as he lays there sleeping, late in the afternoon. He doesn’t budge, however and she sighs in annoyance, leaving his room. Following the long hall of the upper floor of the house, she can feel the cold marble beneath her bare feet; it feels nice in the afternoon heat, though she has her air conditioning running full blast. The house had been an old nightclub, shut down for a year since the planet itself died. There were thousands of deaths upon the planet, involving dragons, mages and wizards, and elementals. The owner had been one of the mages who had perished. Melia had been living with a man who she’d been engaged to, but he’d been killed when their house collapsed after a meteorite the size of a bus struck about five miles outside the city, shaking everything into ruins. It had been during the summer dragon season, at the end of June, 2005, and Melia had been ready to rook. She lost her unlaid eggs when she was pinned under a beam. Drake had come to her aid, sensing the distress. Needing a house, Melia and Drake contracted out people to completely rebuild the old nightclub, using only a mere fraction of the money in their lair in Seixuso, making it into an expensive mansion.
As the sun is going down, she watches out the window, noting the temperature gauge has dropped to a tolerable level of heat, which she has grown more accustomed to. Slipping outside in a pair of flip flops, shorts, and tank top, she heads for the corner gas station to get something to drink and snack on since it seemed Drake wasn’t going to get up to eat dinner. No point in making dinner if she was going to be the only person eating. Stepping inside the gas station’s store, she doesn’t notice the man by his motorcycle, watching her and his arm. She grabs her usual…a bag of white cheddar popcorn and red cherry slushee and heads for the counter behind a couple of people, waiting to pay. Getting in line behind her to pay for his gas is the motorcyclist. The tattoo on his arm is glowing, and he looks down at the dragon design with a little awe as he realizes that Melia is a dragon. The tattoo only reacts near dragons. After a short conversation with the store clerk, Melia heads out, and the man stares after her until the clerk has to half shout to get his attention. He quickly pays and hurries outside, looking around for Melia, spotting her, and realizes she’s out alone.
“Hey!” He calls over to her.
Melia heads for the curb, walking towards the park when she hears the voice calling out. She stops and turns, looking around, wondering if he’s talking to her. Once she sees she’s the only one there, she walks a little towards him.
“Hey, do you need a ride?” He asks, checking the air in his motorcycle.
“On a motorcycle?” Melia grins a little. She was definitely tempted but she didn’t know him. She chuckles. “Actually I was just heading across the street to the park, enjoying the cool evening.”
“Hm, well okay…you be careful out here this time of night all alone. The park can be dangerous when it’s dark.” He knew as a dragon she could probably handle herself but as a dragon, he worried, since there were so few left these days.
“I will be…” She smiles and then catches the glowing tattoo on his arm, approaching. “Hey, what’s glowing on your arm?”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s a tattoo…it glows whenever a…” He hesitates, unsure if she’d want him to know what she is.
“…a dragon’s near?” She asks with a smile, reaching him and she peers at the dragon tattoo. Being that it was a dragon, and she was one, and it was glowing, it seemed the obvious assumption.
“Bingo!” He moves a bit into the light so she can see it and can, likewise get a better look at her. He smiles a little; she wasn’t half bad looking for a dragon, he thinks to himself. “It just appeared one day. I think it’s because I have dragon ancestors or something.”
“There are many sorcerers and wizards who have draconic lineages, though I’ve never seen a tattoo like that before.” She nods a little.
“Yeah, it's a mystery to me too. I don't know anyone else that has it, not even my folks.” He leans back against his parked bike. “So you’re a dragon, huh? Not many of you guys left around.”
“Yeah, but there’s a few here in Aranova. Mostly my family…my dad, brother, half sisters, baby half brother, and Bethany.”
“Whoa...” He hadn’t known there were so many dragons, and well, a dragon pack in the city. He thought it would be more few and far between. “Dragons in the city...who knew?” He smiles nervously. It’s hard for him to talk to girls that long, especially cute ones, without getting a little edgy. “So, are you sure you'll be okay out here?”
“Yes I think so.” Melia smiles, giving her response. It had been nearly a year since her fiancé had died and she’d dated no one. Cute guy walks up, what’re you gonna do?
“Are you sure? I could walk you over to the park, just to be sure there’s nothing hanging out there, and what about when you go home?” He was trying anything to gain her favor so he could learn more about her. How often do you come across a dragon?
“I live right across the street.” Melia couldn’t help but giggle, though the man seemed like he was really trying. “But…if you just want to hang out, I’ve got no one to talk to right now. Everyone’s asleep at my house. I wouldn’t mind that. My name’s Melia.” She holds out her hand to shake his.
“All right,” he smiles, “I’m Kichiro.” He takes her hand, shaking it, and a strange sensation passes through his arm. Melia notices this feeling too but decides to dismiss it. She smiles and looks over to the park and back to Kichiro.
“I think there’s a place you can lock up your bike there at the park, if you don’t want to leave it here at the station.”
“Hop on; I’ll drive us over there.” Kichiro tries not to grin.
“What on that? Really?” Melia sheepishly asks.
“Sure why not? Come on, it’s safe…I won’t go too fast.”
“Oh trust me, I’m not afraid of speed…and my dad rides them.”
Kichiro climbs onto the motorcycle and starts it up, waiting to see if she’ll get on to ride. With only slight hesitation, Melia climbs onto the back of the motorcycle, her hands tentatively holding onto his waist, and Kichiro kicks off, once he knows she’s on and secure. The trip over to the park doesn’t take but a few moments and he pulls up the walk, over to the parking area, then slides off, helping her off of the bike as well. Once his bike is locked up, they walk along on the trail that divides the park in half.
“So, what did you think?” Kichiro asks, regarding the motorcycle.
“It was fast but I’m faster in flight.” Melia couldn’t help but grin.
“You can fly? Oh yeah, right…forgot…I’ve never been flying,” Kichiro comments.
Melia smirks gently, giving him a smile as she walks over towards a fountain beneath one of the many fake trees, resembling large umbrellas that give shade to the park where there are benches lining the paths. Sitting down on the brick wall, she looks down at the water, then up at Kichiro.
“It’s something that pulls me closer to what I feel is reality.” She watches him for a moment, knowing he is part dragon, but would never fly as one. She smiles. “You took me for a ride on your bike…how about I take you for a fly?”
“What?” Kichiro blinks, and is stunned, trying not to appear drop-jawed and shocked. “You’re serious?”
“Yep, you know the crater lake out in the desert?” She asks and Kichiro nods. “We can meet there. You’re fast on the bike, but I can give you a sense of real speed.”
Kichiro grinned from ear to ear, the prospect of flying was overwhelming and exciting, it stirred things in him that the dragon blood longed for.
“Sure, but only if you agree to come with me to a bonfire on the western outskirts tomorrow night to watch some racing.” Kichiro smirks lightly.
“Me to go a race?” She laughs a little at the thought. “My brother, Drake, would be so jealous.”
“So is that a yes?”
“Yes. What time?” She asks, now curious.
“Just come out there as soon as it gets dark. You won’t be able to miss the bonfire.” He looks down at his watch when it beeps and sort of winces, not wanting to go just yet. “I have to get going but do you need a ride home?”
“I live right across the street, remember?” She grins a little.
“Oh yeah, you said that.” Kichiro blushed at his forgetfulness. “Well then let me walk you out of the park?”
“Sure, this way.” Melia nods off to the side, leading him to a path that would take them out of the park on the west side.
Walking along with Melia, Kichiro could feel the cool air coming off of her. He couldn’t help but smile. She was reminding him of something that he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t quite clear. They cross the street and over to Melia’s house. Melia walks straight up onto her porch, while Kichiro stops just short, leaving him room enough to look up at the massive house. It’s huge, as it had once been a nightclub, but refashioned on the outside in a classical style with cornices, white brickwork, and columns. It was definitely impressing him. Melia unlocks her door and looks back down to Kichiro giving a smile.
“This is my stop, so I’ll see you tomorrow?” She jingles her keys a little.
“Absolutely…oh and you might want to dress warmer. It gets really cold out there.”
“Cold doesn’t bother me…I’m half silver and half cloud…I breath ice.” Grinning she opens the door and steps inside a little. “Goodnight Kichiro.”
“Goodnight, Melia.” Kichiro smiles up to her and then turns, walking to the front of the yard, looking back a moment over his shoulder just in time to see the curtains move.
Melia ducks back. She had been peeking out at Kichiro, watching as he was walking away. She grins a little when she saw he was turning to look back. She quickly went upstairs to get something picked out to wear for the following night.
The following evening, Melia dressed in a casual desert outfit to help stay cool, and heads out to the bonfire in the western outskirts. As she approaches, she can see more people than she’d imagined would be there, gathered around a blazing bonfire and a table with a spread of snacks and drinks. She walks over to it, looking around for Kichiro, greeting those who would say hello to the newcomer, and she pours out a cup of punch, turning to get a better look. As she does, a hand reaches out from the side and takes the cup out of her hands.
“Trust me; you don’t want to drink that.” The cup is set on the table and Melia turns to see who it is. Kichiro is grinning a little standing there. “They spike it.”
“Spike it?” She blinks, not knowing what this means.
“Yeah, vodka I’d assume. I wasn’t sure you’d really come.” He walks away from the table towards the cars and bonfire.
“Oh.” She wouldn’t have drunk and feels grateful he stopped her, but smiles when he admits he hadn’t been sure she’d show up. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure myself.” A small white lie, since she’d been planning her outfit since the evening before. “I sort of decided last minute just before I came out here.”
“So what made you choose to come out here?” He stops near the bonfire and notices Melia is hanging back a little ways, then recalls the heat issue, stepping back to stand beside her.
“I dunno, I just thought I’d check out the races, I guess.” Melia smiles, though the heat of the bonfire is a bit much for her.
“I’m curious, do you often hop onto the back of strangers’ bikes and go walking through parks after dark with them?” Kichiro smirked, thinking of the prior night.
“No.” Melia chuckles, giving a small shake of her head.
“So I was a special circumstance. And what about trusting people enough to wander out into the desert to a bonfire without knowing that there will really be something there when invited by a stranger?”
“Nope, and yes…you were a special circumstance. Besides, I can shift shapes into something big enough to flatten you in case you try something funny.” Now Melia smirks with a smile and Kichiro chuckles. A voice booms over a megaphone that there is a racer who will be cancelling in the next race and Kichiro listens carefully, turning to Melia when it ends.
“Looks like I’ll be racing next. I was originally going out in the second lineup but with the cancellation I’m in the first. Come on, you wanna ride?” He motions to his car that’s parked, waiting to be taxied over to the starting line.
“Sure.” She grins a little and follows him to the lot of cars, climbing in when he opens the door for her.
Kichiro starts up the car, driving them over to the starting line, and parks, leaving the engine running as one of the officials come over to check it over, making sure he’s not using any illegal equipment. Melia sits back in her seat, watching and waiting. She hadn’t seen a race before, except the professional ones on television. Kichiro prepares the car, flipping switches, revving the engine, and then sits back, also, looking over to Melia.
“You might want to put your seatbelt on for this.” He comments, pulling on his helmet as he reaches into the back, taking another helmet out for her. He holds it out for her to take and put on.
“Wait, what?” She takes the helmet looking at it. “You want me to ride along in the race? I thought you meant just riding over to the starting line.”
“You’re not afraid are you?” Kichiro grins.
“No.” Melia grins as well. This was far better than just standing around to watch. Kichiro takes her helmet again and slips it onto her head, tucking her hair behind her ears a little before, and clearing his throat a bit, trying to focus on the task at hand.
“There, the rules say all occupants need a helmet.” He says as he fastens his seatbelt, glad for the helmet to hide a faint blush.
“All set then.” Melia fastens hers as well, glad also for the helmet for the same reason.
Other cars gather at the starting line, and Melia watches as some of the drivers bicker amongst themselves, wagering who will win, threaten each other, and boast. Rolling up her window, she sits back, looking over at Kichiro who looks tense and ready to strike. She was beginning to wonder about his family, and background when she hears the call for attention, the horns of cars blaring, including Kichiro’s, and engines revving. After a countdown, a flag would be waved, and all of the cars shoot off from the starting line, gaining speed rapidly as they make their way towards the finish line. Melia could feel her heart pounding in her chest with the adrenaline rush. Plumes of sandy dust trail behind Kichiro’s racecar, and Melia can’t help but laugh at the tickling sensation in her stomach from the speed. The hard-packed dirt roadway provided ease in the car’s climbing speed up to nearly 200 miles per hour when Kichiro begins to move the wheel.
“It’s not over yet!” He cries out over the roar of the engine as he turns the car, skidding it sideways, slamming on the brakes to turn around, heading back the way they’d just come.
Melia clings to the door handle, but grins the entire time. She could imagine doing this in the air. This was nearing her normal flight speed when she’s in a hurry, but she hadn’t ever travelled this fast on the ground before. Looking out her window she sees the opponent’s car, neck and neck, but hearing Melia’s laugh, he grins, pushing the speeds up to 250 miles per hour. Melia closes her eyes feeling the rush pass through her, but her peace is shattered when the opponent edges over toward Kichiro’s car, bumping it with a maniacal grin on his face.
“Melia, hang on.” Kichiro flips a switch and shoves his foot onto the pedal, pushing forward past the opposing racer.
Melia is pushed back into the seat, holding tightly to the door handle still. The opponent and Kichiro cross the line, only Kichiro does so moments before the other. Slamming the brakes again, his car would slide; skidding sideways until it completely turns around and comes to a halt surrounded by a bank of dust. Kichiro knows he just won, hits his horn, undoes his seatbelt and jumps out of the car. The crowd around them is clapping, though it’s not really a big deal for anyone but those who bet on Kichiro to win, and Kichiro and Melia. Melia follows suit, jumping out of the car and comes around to where Kichiro is, getting a big victory hug when she gets there. She grins a little but passes it off as his excitement. He’d just won quite a bit of money after all. After a quick introduction to a few of the people, as this was Kichiro’s crowd and he knew them as a sort of family, they jump back into the car to move it again, since another race is about to start.
“How often do you race like this?” Melia asks him, as they park in a less busy area.
“I race about once or twice a week, during the non-sandstorm season, and about once a month during that time. Those sandstorms leave too much loose sand and it makes it hard to race on.” He explains.
“You must be really good, winning like you did tonight.” She smiles, looking across the way at the people around the bonfire, and the new race about to start.
“Not as often as I’d like. I told you, dragons are good luck, so you’re the reason I won tonight.” He grins.
“I’m so sure.” Melia chuckles and watches as the cars start off from the starting line. “So you’re part dragon. You should meet other dragons besides me.”
“Others? Oh yeah, you’ve got a big family. Sure, as long as they’re not busy or don’t mind.” He comments.
“Well there are others as well. I’ll bring them around one of these days, and my niece or nephew too when they hatch.” She gives a smile as she mentions her future niece or nephew.
“So your brother is married then? I wasn’t sure how that worked.” He admits.
“Drake married? No way. He has a few girlfriends from what I know, and his hatchling will be from a Season encounter.” Melia explains, speaking over the roars of the engines going by.
“A season?” He blinked, questioningly unsure.
“Yeah well, you know, like how it is with cats, I guess.” She looks over at his blank expression. “Every change of season on the equinox or solstice, the dragons have mating season.” She half clears her throat. “So that’s what we call a season.”
“Oh I see. Huh that’s interesting. Well congratulations anyway, it must be exciting to become an aunt. It’s training in case you have kids one day.”
“Yeah it is exciting. Being a preschool teacher helps with getting used to being around kids though too. I’m not sure I’ll go down that path or not, so I told Drake that I’m living vicariously through him.” Melia grins.
“There’s nothing wrong with waiting for the right moment, person, or season, whenever you dragons do that thing.” Kichiro grins sheepishly.
“Yeah I did the whole right person thing a while back and got married. I settled down to start a family, it just wasn’t all meant to be.” She gives a small shrug.
“Oh, um, I didn’t know you were married. Congratulations then, I guess.” He feels this twisting annoyance that is eating at him. He wants to be happy for her but at the same time can’t help but feel a slight disappointment.
“Hmm? Oh no…we’re not married now. Remember that meteorite strike a while back? Nearly destroyed everything, and punched a hole out there to make the lake? Well, I was hurt pretty bad in it, and nearly died. Everything changed after that and he just walked out on me.” She always tries to think of it as being his loss. Something that would help her get over it.
“He walked out?” Half yelling in surprise. “What’s wrong with him?” Kichiro clears his throat though. “I mean, that wasn’t very nice. What else changed?” Now he was curious.
“I did; I became really depressed because I’d been pregnant at the time and we lost everything. The baby, the house, both were gone. We built the one I’m now in, but nothing was the same for me for a while after, and I guess he just couldn’t deal with it.” Again, Melia shrugs.
“Oh, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bring it up. Sorry to hear about your loss.” Kichiro frowns feeling a little guilty for mentioning it.
“It’s okay now. It was a while back before New Years and winter Solstice. Besides, like I said, my brother has enough kids to live vicariously through him for, and then there’s always working at the preschool.” Melia smiles to show she isn’t upset at this point.
“That’s cool. I was always told things would get worse before they get better so not to fret.” Kichiro gives a small nod.
“Yeah, me too, my mom always used to say that. And well things have gotten pretty bad, but not lately. Lately things have seemed pretty good; my brother has kids, I found my father who I hadn’t seen since a baby, good job, and new friends.” Melia grins a little with her smile.
“See it’s all good, and if you ever feel really crummy, you could come here to the races and let loose. I bet it would help you feel better.” Kichiro nudges her a little and Melia gets a big grin on her face.
“If you think this is fast, you should go flying with me one night. That’s real speed.”
“Really,” Kichiro asked, “I’d love that. I have dreams of flying sometimes.”
“Absolutely, we can set something up. Have you ever been beside a dragon when in their dragon form before?” Melia was curious about this, but Kichiro shook his head no. Giving a soft smile, she stands and stretches, checking her watch. “How about tomorrow night we go for a flight? You’ll need to dress warm though. Up there it’s freezing cold, especially in flight.”
“Yeah, absolutely!” He tried not to sound too enthusiastic but really, he is. “Hey, do you need a ride home? It’s getting late.”
“Sure, that’d be great.” Melia gives a nod, and Kichiro drives her home.
His red hair rustles in the cool wind of the mountains, as he watches the trickling stream feed the icy cold mountain spring. At first it seems quite normal to Kichiro, until he realizes he’s huge. Much bigger than a human, he peers over into the spring and sees his own reflection isn’t that of a human, but a dragon with a long red mane and red eyes, and yet he looks like a misty Cloud Dragon with a white body. Confused, he walks on all four, as though it’s natural, around onto a cliff and looks down at a farming village. As he does, a bone horn blows out, trumpeting his appearance and all at once, the people gesture upwards to him, a sign of peace and thanks, giving off words that echo in a language he doesn’t understand, yet knows to be words of thanks. The people are his people whom he serves to protect. Blinking in amazement, he starts to remember this as normal, and smiles as much as a dragon can, feeling the pride he has in these people who work independently from any monarchy. He is their symbol of this independence, and their means of it; their protection from invaders.
Walking down to a lower level cliff around the side of the mountain, he gazes across to the other mountains. The range is beautiful and yet, there is something not right about the sky. A storm is brewing and there seems to be something flying near the clouds. It’s a dark, small mass. Hearing his name cried out from an unfamiliar voice, he turns, but sees no one. Everything begins to echo and there is yelling, the people are gone from their fields, everything is on fire and then a monstrous clap of thunder resounds throughout the mountain range.
With his heart pounding, Kichiro sits up on his couch, back in the tenements of Aranova, hand on his forehead as a cold sweat is breaking out. It was the same dream he keeps having, and he can’t shake the feeling of it being more than a dream. Needing air, he stands and walks over to the kitchen sink, turns on the faucet and splashes water onto his face. After drying his face and turning the water off, he leaves the apartment, going outside into the early morning sun. Though rain was extremely uncommon in Aranova, given the one hundred year drought, and it being a desert anyway, there are a few black clouds in the sky and a misty rain is falling. Some light thunder booms, but it’s far away and the lightning isn’t seen, however the occurrence has many people out to watch. Something about the clouds bother Kichiro as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it, watching as the clouds are breaking up in the morning’s dry heat. Leaning against the side of the building in the shade, he wonders if this dream has to do with him having dragon ancestry, and if the blood was causing them, or calling to him in some way. Calming down from the events, he finishes his cigarette off before going on with the rest of his day.
Struggling with a pile of papers Melia is carrying from the public school in Aranova, where she teaches, a gust of wind catches them and sends them scattering. Squeaking some, she rushes forward to catch them as they blow out of her hands, chasing them down the street a short ways until a familiar man steps out into the street, snagging the piece she’s trying to get. She smiles to see Kichiro again and chuckles walking up to him as she tries to straighten out the papers in her hands.
“Thanks, Kichiro. This is a pain in the butt sometimes. I should’ve made a few trips instead of trying to do it all at once.” She takes the paper from him and adds it to the ones in her arms.
“Hey I can help you get those to where you’re going if you want. You teach at the public school? I thought you would’ve taught at some exclusive dragon school or something. I used to go to the one you teach at when I was a kid.” He examines the papers that are haphazardly arranged in her arms.
“Nah, no exclusive school, I teach preschool. I just started there this year. I’m heading to my house if you’re sure you wouldn’t mind or you’re not too busy.” She grabs as a few more papers that begin to fall.
“Here let me help, I don’t mind at all.” Kichiro chuckles, taking half of her papers, some of them are long rolled tubes, and others simply scraps. They head down the street towards Melia’s house. “So I never asked, where did you move here from?”
“Elleyra, the holy island. My mom was called there when Drake and I were really little. Before that we were in Seixuso where she was a priestess,” Melia explains.
“Seixuso the holy city?” Kichiro blinks in slight surprise and excitement. “That’s gotta be really exciting!”
“I guess it doesn’t make a difference to me since I’ve been there so much. I have a den there still but I rarely go up there.”
“That still must be really cool. I went there once a long time ago with my folks, they’re Io worshipers, and maybe I’ll go back there again one day, but I don’t know. I feel awkward about it,” Kichiro explains.
“You feel awkward about going to Seixuso?” Melia looks over at Kichiro.
“Yeah, well see I have these dreams. And I’ve been told to see a priest about them, but I’ve been afraid to do that.”
“Maybe my brother could help since he’s a priest. He practices at the temple of Io here in Aranova, when he’s not in Seixuso, but right now he’s away in Seixuso, though we could write it in a letter.” Melia tries to think of a suggestion as they’re walking up to her front door. Kichiro hands her the rest of her papers. “Thanks for the help by the way.”
“Maybe he could and no problem. Hey, you wanna come out to another race tonight? It’s in the western outskirts, just north of the railroad tracks.”
“Absolutely, but do I get to ride along this time too?” Melia grins.
“Yep.” Kichiro smiles. “I’ll see you tonight then, I’ve gotta go work on my car to get it ready.”
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight!” Melia goes inside; closing the door behind her while Kichiro heads off to service his car.
Waiting out where the race would be about to begin, Melia looks around anxiously. The race had been canceled and one of the others came out here to check, telling Melia. Sitting on the bench that would normally be where the bonfire would be set up, she can’t help but feel nervous. Something doesn’t seem right and when she hears the sound of Kichiro’s car, she stands to walk over to it as he parks. Kichiro steps out of the car and looks around confused.
“Hey, what’s up? Where is everyone?” He asks, closing the car door.
“I don’t know. Some guy came out here and said it was canceled. Kichiro, something’s not right. I can’t explain it, but there’s something in the air.” Melia walks around the car to Kichiro.
“Yeah I know, I got that feeling earlier, too. How about we find something else to do since the race is canceled to get our minds off of it?” Kichiro suggests, offering a smile.
“How about I take you flying?” Melia grins.
“Really…right now?” He beams.
“No time like the present. Stay here, I’ll just go change.”
Melia walks over to an area out of the way as Kichiro watches her curiously. She reaches up, to her shoulders, her hands glowing lightly as she pulls them down, tracing her figure. Beneath the loose and flowing desert garb she’s wearing, a silvery blue dress forms as part of her, not as actual clothing. Melia pulls the outer clothing off and Kichiro blinks, turning around so as not to watch before he realizes she has more clothes on beneath. She chuckles at his modesty and balls up the other clothes tossing them over towards his car, then begins to glow slightly, her form shifting and growing, hair growing longer, arms lengthening. Drop-jaw, Kichiro watches her transformation in complete awe, stunned at this ability, and then by her sheer size. When it is complete, she shakes like a dog, stretching her wings and neck, offering Kichiro a smile, as much as she can smile. Tentatively, Kichiro walks over towards her but he isn’t scared or nervous, it’s more of being greatly impressed. Reaching his hand out, he touches the long fur she has, and something seemed so familiar about this.
“Are you ready, Kichiro?” Melia cranes her neck down to ask.
“Yeah.” It was all he could muster to say. Her voice was familiar, too but he passes it off as nothing. “How do I do this?”
“Just climb up my wing, and hold on tight. Don’t worry; you can’t hurt my fur by clinging to it. I’d rather have you cling, than fall off.”
Kichiro gingerly climbs her soft, feather-furred wing, up onto her shoulder where he settles, sliding over onto her mid-back at the base of her mane. He takes hold of it, feeling how soft it is, still in total amazement that he’s sitting up this high, on the back of a dragon. Melia again, stretches her wings out for him to see and he reaches out, sliding his hand over the snow white fur.
“Are you sure I’m not too heavy?” Kichiro asks a little warily as he settles in place to grip her mane.
“I’m quite sure, Kichiro. Try not to worry; I could carry the weight of at least three or four people easily, without hindrance. I won’t drop you, I promise.”
“All right. So, what do you eat exactly? I mean, I know most dragons don’t eat people, but well you hear stories and all.” He tries not to chuckle, knowing that it was out of the question for her to eat people, but he was curious.
“I eat frozen fish, mostly.” Melia laughs at the very thought, shaking her head. “I will eat silver sometimes, too but only when I have to. I don’t, and would never eat a person, though I suppose if someone was threatening me and it came down to defense, I might, but they’d need to be frozen first.” Standing slowly so he doesn’t fall off, she shakes some of the sand loose from her paws. “Are you ready up there?”
“I am without a doubt.” Kichiro clenches his teeth in a grin, yet he’s nervous too.
“Try to stay calm. If you’re uncomfortable at any time, just let me know and I’ll come back down. Also, up in the higher levels, it’s more difficult to breathe. Perhaps because you’re part dragon, this won’t be so much of an issue, but again, if it becomes a problem, tell me and I’ll come back down.” Like any animal, she could sense his fear and nervousness.
“It’s not all of that really, I just feel like, well, it sort of feels like I’m standing before a god or something.” Kichiro chuckles softly.
“Nah, definitely not a god, I’m totally fallible. I’m the same as I was before. Ready?” She asks and Kichiro nods.
She takes a few steps forward, her wings sliding out and up. Taking off from the ground with no cliff, and no running start was a bit more difficult, but she could do them. As she's taking the last steps forward, she crouches and sort of jumps, using her wings to assist her in her assent up into the air. Kichiro clings tightly, the butterflies tickling his stomach while his hair is blown back, laying low to her back to stay on. He’d driven fast in his car or on his motorcycle before but this is completely different. Within minutes, unlike an airplane, they break through the lower cloud without turbulence, and she steps on the clouds like stairs, squeezing water out in tiny misting droplets. The temperature is very cold up there and Kichiro shivers lightly, but not as bad as perhaps a full-blooded human would. The air is also thinner here but that too doesn’t bother him as much and he looks over and down at the city of Aranova below, with its tiny lights, inhaling softly.
“Doing all right back there?” Melia asks.
“Yeah, I’m doing fine.” He is dazed, though, just noticing the sky above them. He’d never been so close to the stars or seen so many of them.
“How do you like the scenery?” Melia smiles, staying there on the cloud so he can look around.
“This is amazing.” Kichiro’s words come as he breathes. “This is complete freedom and you are the luckiest person alive to have it.” He suddenly realizes she’s standing on the cloud and blinks. “Wait, how are you doing that?”
“Doing what? Standing on the cloud? I’m half Cloud Dragon and we can walk on clouds.”
“Really, you must be used to all of this but I can’t tell you how amazing this is to someone who’s only dreamed of it.” He rests his head against the back of her neck, beginning to grow dizzy from the thin air. “I think we’re going to need to go back down though soon, I’m getting dizzy.”
“No problem, I figured it wouldn’t be a long flight.”
She walks across the small cloud but just before she does, an unfamiliar flying being, like an angel, swoops in and comes to hover before her, his feet in the clouds. Melia is startled and gasps, almost losing her footing as she steps backwards a few times, despite the small size of the angelic looking being before her.
Kichiro grips at Melia’s mane to prevent falling off, and eyes the being before them. He can feel a tension pass through Melia as the man seems to watch them with a look of derision upon his face. Before Melia and Kichiro can react to the situation, the creature’s expression changes to something less beastly and angry, to something more soft and caring.
“Young lady, why is it that you pretend to live as a human in that city below? And why are you living in a desert, when I would think something such as yourself would be better suited for the climates in the north?” The man’s voice sounds soft and knowledgeable, nevertheless though it shocks Melia and Kichiro both that he asks such questions.
“I beg your pardon?” Melia looks aghast at him. “I don’t pretend to be anything. Who are you that you would know such things?”
“I am called Nightbane. I am a watcher of all things. It is my pleasure to make both of your acquaintances.” Nightbane gives a nod to them both in a congenial manner. “What might your names be?”
“I’m Kichiro Saotome.”
“And I’m Meliasha Yuri.” Something about the name Nightbane leaves her uneasy.
“Kichiro, Meliasha…Meliasha? Are you named after Arshes Yuri the Silver Dragon?” Nightbane’s smile nearly fades.
“I am, and I think we’ll be going. Kichiro isn’t tolerating the thin air well.” Whether it’s true or not, Melia gives this as an excuse and turns on her hind legs, walking in the opposite direction and spreads her wings. “Hang on Kichi.” She doesn’t realize she has given him a nickname but Kichiro would smirk a little, holding tightly as Melia jumps off the cloud in a near freefall.
Nightbane watches the pair as they leave and chuckles darkly before vanishing through the floor of the cloud. He folds his large dark wings back, diving towards the descending pair and as he nears, grapples Kichiro from behind, ripping him off of Melia’s back. Kichiro yelps, struggling with Nightbane slightly, as Melia gasps, turns, and hisses at Nightbane. Nightbane moves to hold Kichiro by one arm, dangling him as he hovers, watching Melia and clicks his tongue in a tsking manner before dropping him.
Everything for Kichiro goes blank as he slips into a panic, falling face forward towards the ground. Melia dives after him though, faster than Kichiro is falling, yelling out to him to stay calm and that she is coming. Kichiro closes his eyes as Melia’s voice sort of echoes in his ears when he hears his name called. The voice in his dream comes back to him and he realizes it was Melia’s voice. A sudden jarring sensation grips him as he feels himself grabbed, but the fast decent is dragging Melia closer to the lake outside the city, and she flips over so he is on her stomach, holding him in her arms instead of her talons, and she hits the surface of the crater made lake.
Kichiro gasps just before they hit, and clings to her arm but a light above them wavers in the disturbed water’s surface. Melia is surrounded by bubbles as she tries to swim, but her form begins to shrink, and then change, back to the human form she usually assumes. Confused and startled, she panics a little but has no problem holding her breath which ends up being beneficial since Kichiro is far from the surface and struggling to hold his breath. Pushing off the bottom of the lake, she heads for Kichiro, grabbing his arm and pulls him up to the surface. Nightbane has a large staff in his hand, grinning maliciously at them and then disappears into thin air.
Gasping, Kichiro turns and wraps his arms around Melia trying to keep her safe incase she’s struggling to swim, finding that she’s all right.
“What was that?” Kichiro yells out finally.
“I don’t know. He looked like an angel, but I don’t know. I don’t know how he knew us. Are you okay?” She treads water, knowing it’s too cold for him to be in. “We need to get to the shore.”
“Yeah, are you?” Kichiro begins making his way to the shore, shivering and not letting go of Melia, who in turn wouldn’t let him go either.
“Yeah, I can hold my breath a long time, much longer than humans, but you’re going to freeze to death if we don’t get you dry and warm. We’ll go back for your car after you get warmed up. I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t change myself back. I think he did it. I will change again and take us to the western outskirts behind my house and we can go in there.”
They crawl up onto the shore once there and Melia stands, wringing her hair out as she stumbles over a few slippery rocks, not waiting a spare moment to change her form once again. Kichiro lays down on his back once out of the water, looking up at her as she changes, then sits up, pushing up to stand. Melia reaches her paw down and picks him up, placing him up on her shoulders then tells him to hold on as she spreads her wings, trots over the shore, and lifts up into the sky. Keeping low to the city, Melia crosses Aranova, smoothly without much haste so she can avoid a lot of wind on Kichiro since he’s wet. Landing on the outside of her fenced backyard, she lets Kichiro down and then changes back to the human form, leading him around to the front to go inside. Everyone is either sleeping, or out, as the house is dark inside.
Melia closes the door, inviting him to sit on one of the couches in her sitting room, while she goes and gets a towel, draping it around Kichiro who is still shivering. She sits down beside him, a towel around herself as well to dry off with, silent, her mind mulling over the things the strange winged man had said. Kichiro looks over to her and watches her.
“It seemed like he knows you or your family or something, and doesn’t like me very much.” Kichiro tries to be gentle with his words.
“I don’t know of anyone by the name Nightbane. I should talk to my dad and brother about him though. Maybe they have.”
“Let’s hope we don’t see him again, but I don’t want you staying here alone with that guy out there. It doesn’t look like anyone’s here. I could camp out on your porch and make sure he doesn’t show up.”
“You’re not camping out on my porch, Kichi. You’ll get hypothermia. You can stay here; I have plenty of spare rooms.” Melia nudges him a little with a chuckle at the very thought of him sleeping on the porch.
“How about I sleep on the couch then? I’d rather be down here to watch the door.” Kichiro smiles, though he was also a little worried about the temptation of being so close to her in a spare room.
“Then I would suggest the blue couch, it’s much more comfortable. I know from experience.” She smiles and adjusts the towel around herself, drying her hair some.
“The blue one it is then.” Kichiro nods and gives a smile in response to her smile, then stands and walks over, sitting on the blue one with a light bounce. “You’re right, it’s much softer.”
“Kichi, I’m so sorry this happened. Whatever this guy has against me, or my family, shouldn’t be taken out on you. If Drake hadn’t left for Seixuso yesterday, I could ask him about all of this.”
“Hey don’t blame yourself for anything. First, we’re both okay. Second, you can’t be accountable for things of the past or your family.” He is silent for a moment before speaking again. “I’m going to get some sleep. I have to get up in the morning and go get my car before a tow truck is called on it, and then get back to the tenements before someone claims my apartment. I didn’t lock up. If I’m not here when you get up, come on over. My apartment is number three-o-nine.”
“Maybe I’ll bring you over some breakfast. Donuts okay?” Melia asks and he nods. She stands and heads for the stairs, walking up about halfway and turns looking to Kichiro. “Oh, and feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen if you’re hungry.” Kichiro thanks her and she heads off to bed, leaving him to fall to sleep there on the couch.
* * *
September 22, 2006
Sitting on the swing on her porch, Melia smiles, swinging back and forth, lost in a day dream. She and Kichiro hadn’t seen Nightbane since that summer day when they’d gone flying and while they’d been extra cautious out at night, they were beginning to think it had merely been some freakish event. Watching the light in Kichiro’s window of the tenement click off in the, she assumes he’s gone to bed and her attention turns to the moons while her mind turns to the week ahead when the dragon’s season came. She chuckles lightly at her thoughts and catches herself, blushes, then rubs her cheeks. Over the summer, she and Kichiro had grown to be very close friends but Melia secretly wished she could tell him she felt more than friendship.
Kichiro is standing at his darkened window, looking down and over to Melia as she sits on her porch, giving a small smile and resting his head against the window frame. He was, perhaps, far more shy than Melia. Imagining what it would be like to simply walk up to her and ask her to go to the movies, or out to dinner, Kichiro grins. It would be so easy. Why shouldn’t it be? They were best friends already, or at least he was pretty sure she considered him as such. Pushing away from the window, he turns and heads for the front door, locking it behind him as he leaves, and then leaves the building. As he walks though, coming around the corner, his stomach begins to turn itself into knots and by the time he reaches her front walk, he decided he couldn’t do it; not yet anyway; maybe tomorrow he’d be able to. Seeing Kichiro coming up the walk, Melia blinks and then smiles.
“Hey! I thought you’d gone to bed or something.” Melia stops swaying on the swing, but stays sitting.
“Oh yeah?” Kichiro tries not to grin. “Nah I thought I’d come out to see what you were doing sitting out here by yourself.” He moves up onto her porch and sits down beside her on the swing. He watches her, tempted to put his arm around her, but then she leans sideways against him, giving him the opportunity to anyway.
“I was just looking up at the moons tonight. They are Spyridon’s sons, it’s said; such a sad story.” Melia is silent a moment before tilting her head to look up at Kichiro. “Kichi, I have to go for a few days.”
“What, when?” This was news to Kichiro. Melia hadn’t mentioned this before. “Where will you go?”
“I’ll leave tomorrow to go stay with my brother, or perhaps with a friend in Thatch. It’ll be for three days; a day before and after, and including the Autumnal Equinox, which will be the Autumn Dragon Season.” Melia explains.
“Dragon Season? Oh yeah, you mentioned that before. You have to go away for that?” The thought of her leaving for Dragon Season is making him nervous.
“Well I don’t want to chance hanging around here in town or you might just have me sitting on your doorstep morning, noon, and night. You’re the only guy I hang out with after all.” Chuckling, she grins.
“Chance?” Kichiro blinks, and then blushes. “Oh.” Now he couldn’t help but think about it and he falls quiet but only for a moment. “You want to go get coffee or something then before you need to go? Since this is your last night here for a few days and all.”
“Yeah that sounds good. I could go for a caramel vanilla frosty coffee.” She sits up and stretches but stops when before her house is a child, looking lost, watching them. “Hey, you okay? Need some help?”
Kichiro turns his attention to the little boy, and stands. Something didn’t seem right but then again, what did in Aranova? The boy begins to sniffle, then takes off running down the street and Melia jumps up, moving quickly down off the porch, but Kichiro stops her.
“Melia, we don’t know where this kid’s from. I’ll go check it out, you stay here. You never know.” Melia agrees and stays there on the porch, while Kichiro runs after the child, heading down the street.
Giving a sigh, Melia looks around, waiting. The sound of a woman yelling for help, though, catches her attention and she looks in the direction Kichiro went, then to the north where she hears the cries for help, walking towards them. As she reaches an alley just a block north of her home, she sees a vampire, pressing a woman who is slipping into unconsciousness, against a wall, draining her.
“Hey!” Melia narrows her brow in anger. She could handle a vampire and lifts her hand, ready to freeze him. “Let her go!” The vampire does as he’s told, rounding on Melia, to look at her squarely, his lips stained in crimson red blood. The woman, now dead, falls to the alley floor.
“Hello there pretty pretty.” The vampire speaks, and then vanishes from sight before Melia has a chance to react. He grabs her from behind, shoving her forward into the same wall as he’d had the other woman against and Melia cries out in surprise. “Mmmm…you smell sweet, my little Popsicle. You must be Melia. Let’s see if you taste as good as you smell.” Melia is in shock that he knows her name, and then even more as she feels the bite come to her neck.
“Let go!” Melia tries to pushes against the wall, feeling her face shoved more into the bricks, letting out a sound of near horror and pain as the bricks scrape her cheek, and the teeth pierce at her neck.
Kichiro, still following the child, stops, coming face to face with a familiar face as he steps around a corner. The child vanishes. He had been nothing but an illusion, meant to draw Kichiro away from Melia. The man before him is Valatar, an infamously evil Dark Elf, and his face is plastered on hundreds of wanted posters throughout the kingdom of Antalousa. Valatar grins sadistically, a sword being brought out. Kichiro eyes him warily, but then the area around him lights up glowing. His birthmark is glowing. Valatar eyes the man now, his eyes narrowing from the light and gives a growl.
“Hello Mr. Saotome. Might I have a word?” Valatar moves in to hold the blade’s edge to Kichiro’s neck, but then Kichiro flinches, not from the sword but some other pain.
Kichiro’s arms wrap around his stomach, his face turning red as he holds his breath, grunting in pain, then cries out as his body begins to change forms. Similar to Melia’s transformation, Kichiro shifts, sending Valatar to flee, else be smashed by a rogue paw or tail. When the transformation has stopped, Kichiro is laying there in the road, people yelling and screaming, and his body is a dragon’s body. Valatar takes the opportunity to teleport away, coming out behind the vampire.
“Let’s go, it’s a bust. He’s a dragon too.” Valatar snarls at the vampire, who shoves Melia roughly against the wall.
Melia slides down to the ground and huddles there, a hand clasping to her neck, while Valatar grabs hold of the vampire, and both vanish into the shadows. She pulls her hand away from her neck, looking at the blood there, but suddenly catches the sound of another dragon in the area. Weakly pushing herself up, she trips some, leaving the alley, and as she does, she sees a shadow, first, and then looks up, seeing the dragon flying by haphazardly. He spots Melia, though and struggles to control his movements.
“Melia! What’s going on?!” Kichiro in the form of a mist dragon, plummets from the sky, crashing into the road before climbing again.
Melia runs as best as she can, after him, straight towards Mitsie’s and her father’s house. Kichiro begins to climb, up over the house, but then just as suddenly as his change started, it ends, reversing, changing him back to a human and he falls, landing on the roof of the house. Seeing this happen, Melia blinks as she realizes now that it really is Kichiro, and gets to the house, climbing the gutter to get up onto the roof. Pulling herself up, however, she gasps and covers her face. Kichiro is stark naked; his transformation had left him undressed, unlike when she changed, and her form automatically gave her clothes to wear.
“Kichiro?” With her eyes covered, she crawls over towards him, carefully, and stops a bit away. Is she peeking? Of course, though one may never know.
“Melia what’s going on!? What happened? I flew! I was flying! I was a dragon! You’re bleeding! And why are you covering your eyes?” Without skipping a beat, he’d noticed her neck and crawls over to her, not noticing he’s not exactly dressed.
“A vampire attacked me. Um, Kichi…you’re, uh, not dressed.” She grins, she just couldn’t help it.
“A vamp…” He breaks off, face turning beet red as she covers himself. “Ack! I need some clothes!”
Melia tells him to wait a moment while she turns around, climbing down to the attic window, and slips inside. A few moments later she comes back with a blanket and hands it to him.
“Come on inside and you can borrow some of my dad’s clothes. They won’t fit, but you’ll be covered.” Melia leads Kichiro down into the attic, through the small round window, and goes to get him some clothes. He waits and she returns with them, handing the stack of jeans and folded t-shirt to him. “I’ll be waiting out in the hall. No one’s home.”
Kichiro nods, taking the clothes and gets changed into the massively large clothes, stepping into the hall to present himself to Melia. The sleeves hang 6 inches off his arms, and likewise for the pants off his feet. All in all he looked like he was a child wearing a full grown man’s clothes. Melia laughs at the sight and eyes him a moment, rolling everything up for him.
“Melia, I think you should leave tonight. I don’t want to risk another attack tonight. That kid was a decoy. I was led away, I think on purpose. I know it’s been a while, but I’ve got a feeling it’s that Nightbane guy.”
“You think so?” Melia couldn’t help shake that feeling as well. Her mind is still on him in his dragon form, but there are other things needing to be considered now. “I can call to a friend of mine, and she can take me to Erica in Thatch tonight. Think you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve no doubt of it. I just want you to be safe. I can go to my grandmother’s house if worse comes to worse.” He falls quiet a moment. “Will you be able to contact me from your friend’s?”
“I think so. Do you want me to give you a call? I can’t promise I’ll be in any condition to talk rationally but I can try.” Melia bites a bit at her bottom lip, her neck already healing.
“Yeah, it’s okay, I just want to be sure you’re okay. And I can fill you in on the things going on here.” He nods softly, looking around a little before looking back to her. “You should get packed if you’re not already. I’m going to stick around until you go if that okay.”
“Yeah, thanks, I don’t know where everyone is tonight. I think the mayor was having some sort of a charity auction so maybe they went to that.” She moves about the room, gathering a few of her things from the attic bedroom, where she’s been keeping her things from time to time. When they are collected into a ragged carpet bag, she steps over to the door and stairs that lead down, closing her eyes. She is silent for a minute, calling mentally to Muriel, the angel, and then opens her eyes again to look at Kichiro.
“I wish you didn’t have to go. I could try to figure out how to change again and we could go flying or something.” Kichiro smiles but isn’t happy about this.
A bright light flashes through the windows, and Melia knows Muriel is outside now waiting. Melia walks over to the window, peers down, and nods to the fair haired angel who stands below on the ground, before turning and walking to the door again where Kichiro is still standing.
“Well that’s my ride. You take care of yourself, okay? I’ll call you as soon as I get there and leave the number on your machine if you’re not there. Don’t trust anyone except those you know you can trust.”
Kichiro would nod to her about that, but before he gets a chance to say anything, Melia leans forward and pecks a kiss to his lips, turns, and hurries out and down the stairs, out of the house, and finally to Muriel, who would take her into a brilliant light, vanishing from the front yard there in Aranova.
Kichiro just blinks, staring at the spot she’d just been, his fist closing tightly. After a moment though he relaxes back against the doorway, still in thought about this, and when he hears the sounds of doors unlocking downstairs, he makes his way down to tell Melia’s family everything that has happened.
V. DESTINED LINEAGE
September 26, 2006