A Dragon's Treasure

by Lorelei Moone

  There was no time to think or strategize. She could not lead until she had defeated these new challengers as well, and any others who would follow behind.

  Spear tips grazed and cut her arms, but never enough to cause permanent damage. She took a few blows from the blunt end too. The enemy was almost acrobatic in his use of the weapon, twirling and waving it around effortlessly like it was yet another limb.

  She crouched down to avoid one attack, and used her weapon as a bat to knock the spear out of her attacker's hands. He simply lunged at her, hands extended forward, aiming straight for her neck.

  A quick intervention from the left saw Broc join her and even the playing field. With two against two, it did not take long for these enemy fighters to be neutralized.

  That was when things got confusing. So many had climbed over the wall, that every one of her men was simply hacking away blindly, hoping to hit someone on the other side. They were outnumbered. They were being overwhelmed.

  There was no time to think or even breathe. Before she knew it, her instincts had taken over.

  As her inner beast emerged in a rage, she caught one of the enemy in her powerful jaws, and slammed another to the ground with her paw. The General's Sword fell unceremoniously to the ground. She had no more use for it in her current state.

  This was the last advantage. The last line of defense.

  Blinded by the smell of blood, she went on a rampage, clawing, biting and smashing her way through the many invaders up on the wall.

  She did not even know how long this went on for, or how many she had taken out in the process. All she knew was that she was making a difference.

  Suddenly, it all changed. Rhea could no longer move freely. She had been caught in something, a net of some kind, and immediately a number of mermen jumped on top of her back and tried to pin her down. Spear tips and blunt objects assaulted her entire body.

  She roared in anger. You won't keep me down so easily!

  But her movements were severely restricted and her strength was waning. They had tied up her limbs, and even covered her head in a hood of some kind.

  Was this it? The end of a valiant fight.

  As much as she tried, there was nothing she could do. The blood loss was starting to affect her mind. She could only listen as the battle raged on all around. The strange musty hood on her face made it hard to breathe. Disoriented, she sank to her knees. She did not even know which of the footsteps and other noises around her was made by one of her own or one of them.

  Not that it mattered. Right now, she was as helpless as she'd ever been. She'd only ever lost a fight once before, when Kelly's powers first emerged, and at least she'd been up on her feet immediately after. This was something else.

  Defenseless, she lay down, taking any impact that came her way without making so much as a sound.

  Hopefully at least Broc had managed to get away. A general was relatively expendable. But if the Isles were to live another day, they needed their king. She and Yorrick should have protected him better. The sheer numbers King Weiland had sent their way had overwhelmed her.

  Rhea closed her eyes with a painful last thought on her mind. It was her worst fear come true.

  Their side was losing. She had failed her people and her king.

  Chapter Nine

  What greeted Saras upon his return to Black Mountain was a vision straight from one of his nightmares. Was this even really happening or had he drifted off to sleep somewhere without realizing and found himself trapped in his morbid imagination again?

  Circling overhead was a group of frazzled eagles who fled as soon as they spotted him.

  Down below there was utter chaos.

  Sea Folk and islanders, embroiled in bloody battle. Weapons threw sparks as they clashed together. Bodies, bruised and bleeding, continued to give everything they had to the fight, until they could give no more.

  The intruders from the sea swarmed up the steep rock face like vermin, aiming to overwhelm the troops of Black Mountain.

  Not my war, Saras thought, but suddenly it had become hard to convince himself of that anymore. Flashes of Rhea's face, bloodstained like in his most recent nightmares, appeared before him. No, it cannot be!

  He ought to fly higher, and ignore the battle from afar. Much like a human who happened upon an army of ants overpowering and killing anything intruding upon their domain. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

  These weren't nameless, faceless insects. They were his people too, weren't they?

  He knew at least two of them by name. Rhea and Kelly. Weren't they down there too, fighting for their lives?

  How he wished to stay out of it. The smell of it reminded of everything he yearned to forget.

  "Have we not suffered enough?" Saras mumbled as he dove nearer the ground.

  He scanned the mass of warriors. Roughly half were easily dismissed; they were the wrong color. Scaly, much like he was, and yet nothing like him at all. Small, puny little things. How easy it would be to take them out. All it would take was a deep breath before they'd be burned to a crisp.

  But wherever there were any of them, they were surrounded by islanders of all shapes, shades and sizes. Wolves, bears, humans in full or partial armor. Some with weapons, some without, most covered in some measure in blood.

  Where was Rhea? Was he too late?

  Saras tried not to think of it, as dread threatened to paralyze. If he did nothing, it would all be his fault again. Another death to add to his already overloaded conscience.

  Don't be a coward, he berated himself.

  Some had already succumbed, though; casualties were growing on both sides from the looks of it. Surely, general was not just a ceremonial position. If she held the title, she would have earned it. She would be leading by example, and she wouldn't have gone down so easily in a fight.

  He circled the castle, then focused his attention on the southern boundary wall where most of the fighting was going on. She was a bear; he'd picked up on the distinctive scent when they first met. But what exactly her animal form looked like—what color her fur was—he did not know.

  He'd have to find her entirely by smell. Sure enough, the more he focused, the easier it became for him to distinguish the various fighters down below. The Sea Folk with their salty, almost fish-like smell were easily identified and ignored.

  Where are you? he thought, as he continued to scan the battleground. Rhea, where have you gone?

  Saras, help us! another voice spoke to him. A female, familiar, as though he'd heard her before… He shook it off. This was yet another unwanted dream, infiltrating his reality.

  Saras! Listen to me! There it was again.

  His frustration grew.

  No, you're just trying to trick me. To distract from what I mean to do.

  Down there! Help us defeat them, Saras. Save Rhea!

  His eyes fixated on a brown shape cowering against the fortifications. The presence in his head, whether real or imagined, urged him in that direction. He couldn't see her properly, but he instinctively knew it was her. Once he got closer, he even thought he picked up on a whiff of her scent.

  A group of the sea people surrounded Rhea, ready to fight off anyone who came close.

  It didn't matter to him. Now that he was certain, he sprang into action without further thought.

  One deep breath, and fire rained down on everything and everyone in his path. The smell of burnt flesh and blood surrounded him. Those creatures closest to him had simply petrified and turned to ash where they stood. Others yet were cooked like an overdone roast. You could barely even recognize them as anything other than meat. A few of them had survived his attack and screamed in agony as they tried to flee.

  Saras looked down. Blood on his hands.

  No, it cannot be. It's only a dream.

  Sure enough, his talons were still clean. His conscience, however, was not.

  He had no choice, surely? This destruction, it was necessary to ensure her rescue, wasn't it
? And these were enemy soldiers, so things were different this time.

  His chest ached and burned as though the fire had hurt him too, which was impossible, of course. This was his guilt tearing at him, just as it had done for a millennium. It all but paralyzed him. Supposedly different, and yet the same.

  "Dragon!" voices from both sides erupted all around. "Dragon! Retreat!"

  He paid them no more attention as they scurried away. Forcing himself back into action, Saras gathered up Rhea's still body and hurtled himself back into the sky.

  She was still alive, wasn't she? How badly had she been hurt that she'd given up the fight? If he'd done all that damage for nothing… No, his intervention had to mean something. It couldn't be too late!

  Saras tried not to dwell on it, and instead flew as swiftly as his wings would take him up to the highest tower of the castle. His favorite place from all those centuries ago. There, he lay her down on an empty stone balcony and crouched beside her.

  "Rhea," he said. "Are you alright?"

  The wings and scales had faded and made way for his human disguise. Cold gusts of wind stung against his bare skin.

  He fumbled with the ropes that held her, releasing her from the netting the enemy had caught her in, and pulled the mask off her face.

  There she lay, eyes closed, vulnerable as any human. But she wasn't the same as before. She was a vision straight from one of his night terrors. Blood soaked hair clung to the side of her face. Her entire body was covered in cuts and grazes, each deeper and more serious than the next. She had fought hard before they'd captured her. Every inch of her skin told him so.

  "Oh, Rhea," he whispered again as he reached for her shoulder. No movement.

  Overwhelmed with grief, he held her gently in his arms. If she did not wake, that meant the damage was grave. The only glimmer of hope he had was the weak sound of her heartbeat.

  Would it endure?

  The islanders had always been strong and fast to heal, but they weren't immortal like he was. Inflict too much pain, and their bodies gave out.

  He lay her down again on the stone floor and simply watched her chest rise and fall. Regular breaths. Surely, that was a good sign?

  What was his plan, anyway? He'd brought her here to safety, but there was no one to attend to her wounds. What was he thinking?

  He leaned down and as softly as he could, kissed her forehead.

  His lips had barely touched her grazed skin when she flinched and awoke. Guided by instinct, she stumbled up into a clumsy defensive stance.

  Relief washed over him. He did not know whether to laugh or cry.

  He raised his arms in a calming motion and slowly approached her. "It's alright, Rhea, you're safe now."

  Her eyes darted back and forth between him and random points surrounding them. For a moment her appearance almost changed over into animal form, but it was just a momentary glimpse which did not take. A defense mechanism; she was primed to attack still.

  "Where am I? What happened?" Her voice was hoarse and so very weak.

  "I got you out. They can't get to you now."

  Rhea's bottom lip shook for a moment. She shuffled over to the edge of the balcony and looked down. A muffled sob escaped her lips.

  "What about the others?" she whispered. "What about Broc and Yorrick?"

  Saras shrugged. He hadn't paid them any attention. His focus was solely on finding her. Shouldn't she be grateful to be out of there? Confused, he took a step back.

  "You were surrounded. I got you out," he repeated.

  There was a moment of silence between them.

  "You don't seem happy about it," Saras observed. What was she looking at down there? A terrible realization dawned on him.

  He joined her by the edge and also peered down at the aftermath of the battle. Despite being so high up, he could clearly see the destruction. His heart started to race and mind grew cloudy. It had happened again. Despite his best efforts.

  "Oh, God," he mumbled.

  He immediately saw the spot from where he had recovered her. Charred remains served as his marker. They hadn't just been enemy soldiers, had they? Were either of the men Rhea had asked about—Broc or Yorrick—among those who had been caught in his fire? Had he made everything worse yet again?

  Only this morning he'd gone out of his way to save two mainlanders who had inadvertently stumbled upon the forest fire he'd caused. But death followed him wherever he went, like a shadow he could not shake.

  He'd only tried to help. Which in fact was exactly what she had tried to persuade him to do from the first moment she'd come into his cell. He had refused for a reason.

  Because he knew better than to get involved in anything like this.

  He should never have left that place.

  Imprisonment was his only option. What he thought was his redemption, turned out to be a confirmation that he was beyond hope.

  His heart grew cold at the sight of her, continuing to stare down at what was left of the battleground. He'd had this moment. A little glimmer of something that was not to be. Everything good in his life always ended up burned. His first love, Gillian, should have taught him that. But he'd learned nothing.

  Just as well that he was the only one of his kind left. He was an aberration. One which should have never existed in the first place.

  These people, and especially this woman, would be better off without him.

  Saras turned around in silence toward the opposite side of the balcony. Without looking back even once at Rhea, he closed his eyes and threw himself over the edge.

  His wings didn't emerge until about halfway down. Just in time to prevent him from falling to his death. Not that it would have been a great loss to the world.

  Saras found the hole he had smashed through the castle wall on his way out, and kept on travelling downward into the deepest part of the dungeon. Once inside his cell, he transformed back and pulled the broken door shut behind him. The locks were still open, but he didn't need them anyway. This was where he would stay, until the world around him crumbled and death finally came to claim him.

  Chapter Ten

  So much had happened in a fog. It took Rhea a moment to comprehend how she had ended up here on this balcony on one of the highest towers of the castle, while everyone else was down below. She knew their losses had been substantial; she'd seen it before they'd caught her.

  So, why had the enemy fled? It wouldn't have taken much for them to win the battle and with it, the war.

  Saras… Saras had intervened and brought her here.

  Rhea turned to look for him, but she was all alone.

  Dull pain throbbed in her chest. She'd been stabbed, beaten, bruised and very nearly completely broken.

  But not quite yet.

  If Saras had rescued her from certain capture and probably death, then there was hope yet.

  She braved the pain and started to walk. Down the spiral stairs leading down to the main part of the castle.

  First of all, she'd take stock of the situation. She had to find Broc.

  "Rhea, wait for me." Kelly's voice stopped her.

  Although she was in no mood to chat, Rhea paused. The queen was in quite a state. Red eyes pleaded with her through tear-stained lashes.

  All this while she had been up on the Viewpoint. Too far for her weak human eyesight to see what was going on down below. Too far to know what had happened to the king.

  The two women continued through the maze of hallways in silence. There was nothing to say. Rhea did not know much more than Kelly did at this point. Only that the situation was grave.

  It was very possible that down among the bodies they'd find both their worst nightmare come true. Even Saras hadn't seen Broc. He would have said something if he had.

  Just why he'd left her up there by herself, Rhea could not yet understand. Maybe he was trying to do exactly the same thing she was. To locate the king and see how much of their army was left standing. With some luck they might even be able to determ
ine how much of the enemy's army was left.

  They ran as fast as their feet would carry them until they made it out of the drawbridge and onto the fortified boundary wall. This was where most of the fighting had happened.

  This was where Rhea herself had very nearly met her end.

  Although the battle was over, the place was abuzz with activity. Soldiers and ordinary citizens helped the injured and gathering up the dead. The stench of blood was enough to turn one's stomach.

  Kelly suppressed a sob.

  Rhea glanced over at the woman. She would have never seen anything like this. She wasn't battle hardened like the rest of them.

  Please, please, please! Please let him be alive! Rhea couldn't bear the idea of losing Broc today. For the sake of the Isles. For Kelly's sake.

  "Rhea, where have you been?" Broc's voice called out over the commotion.

  Rhea breathed a sigh of relief and waved at him. "Here!"

  She waited as Kelly ran toward him, threw her arms around his neck and started to sob uncontrollably. She'd always known that the witch wasn't like them. In the past she would have judged her for it, looked down on her.

  Today, Rhea felt for her. Despite their differences. Despite her innate distrust of the witch.

  "Kelly, why don't you head back inside? This is no place for a queen," Broc spoke softly.

  She shook her head. "I couldn't help during the battle, but I'll help now."

  Rhea smiled briefly. Kelly was stronger than she appeared. For the first time since her arrival here, Rhea felt a kind of kinship with the woman. Perhaps Broc hadn't made such a bad choice after all.

  Rhea still loved Broc, though. That would never change. But her love for him had transformed, and opened up a little space in her heart to perhaps accept Kelly, too. And all it had taken for Rhea's perception to change was a terrible battle.

  Broc nodded, then diverted his attention to Rhea.

  "I need you to take stock of where we stand."

  "Yes, my king."

  "How many have we got left? The Sea Folk retreated in such a hurry they did not carry their fallen. Have them counted so we can have an estimate of how many losses they've had too."