by Melody Rose
I knew exactly where I was then. I was reliving a memory from my past, something buried deep within the confines of my brain. I willed this scene and all of the feelings it brought to never emerge again. It was something that I kept tucked away, so as not to experience the hurt and loss that was just around the corner.
However, here it was. I was in it, going through the motions and experiencing all of the sensations once again. Like how I was annoyed at Hannan for bringing me all the way out here. I was about to tell him as such.
“Come on, Hannan,” I moaned. “I know you said there was a family of jackrabbits out here, but you promised.”
“I promised to fight you after we found the jackrabbits,” Hannan said as he crouched lower to the ground. “I have never seen them up close, and I think they are fascinating.”
“I do not know how you could possibly think that a rabbit with horns is fascinating,” I replied as I crossed my arms. “Not any more fascinating than Uri or Rebekah’s centaur.”
“I resent that,” the sphinx said from her spot in the corner of the clearing.
She lounged there in the largest patch of sunlight and licked her front paw with a laziness that I would never understand.
“I did not mean to insult you,” I corrected, my annoyance growing though it was now directed at my djer.
“By inadvertently calling me ordinary?” Uri huffed. “Then what did you intend to do?”
“You are a fascinating creature, Uri,” Hannan said, stroking the creature’s ego just enough to make sure she forgot about my insult. “And beautiful and intelligent. Kehn is lucky to have you as a djer, even if he does not see it.”
“Thank you, Hannan,” Uri said as she bowed her head a little. Then she sent me an awful stink eye. “I am glad to see that one of you is growing up to be a proper gentleman.”
I crossed my eyes and shook my head, trying not to let myself be too hurt by Uri’s words. Back then, I remembered that every time she spoke to me, it felt like an insult or as though I were saying something wrong. We learned over time, mainly out of necessity as Hannan, Lyla, Uri, and I were the only people left on the continent who cared about one another. But in those early days, the tone of this conversation was fairly common.
“Why are you so interested in these jackrabbits, anyhow?” I asked Hannan, changing the subject away from my lack of gentlemanly traits.
“Because of their make-up,” Hannan explained. He pushed aside some bushes and scoured the ground with his eyes. “The size of them versus the weight of their antlers means that they should fall over. They would be imbalanced, and I want to find out why they are not.”
“Is this similar to the bee hunt?” I wondered. “When you discovered that bees were technically too big for their wings to be able to carry them?”
“Yes!” Hannan’s eyes lit up. “It is exactly like that. I appreciate you remembering.”
“Well, when it was the only thing you would talk about for five days straight, it was hard not to retain some of it,” I complained.
Lyla flitted off Hannan’s shoulder and swirled around my head, trying to calm me. I only found her more irritating and swatted at her gently to get her to move away. The butterfly did one more final swirl before returning to her djer. She flew ahead of him and darted about the bushes, looking for the jackrabbit lair.
“You know, we are not even supposed to be out this far,” I reminded Hannan, my voice rising to a whine. Not having lowered yet, my voice sounded like a fairy’s when I complained like that. It grated my own ears. How did Hannan ever put up with me?
“Kehn does have a point there, Hannan,” Uri called out from the corner.
“We know the way back, and we will arrive by suppertime,” Hannan reasoned. “These jackrabbits will be worth it, I promise.”
“The fight better be worth it,” I grumbled.
Hannan straightened his back, always and forever taller than me, and rolled his eyes. “Are you going to stop complaining and help me look? The faster we find them, the faster we can get to your fight.”
“How about we fight first?” I bargained.
“I do not want to scare them off,” Hannan complained, his own high-pitched voice raising to a slight whine.
“As if all your stomping around has not done that already,” I countered. I pulled out my sword and held it out, challenging my friend. “Come on, Hannan, just one fight. That is all I am asking for.”
Hannan sighed. “I do not know why you insist on fighting me. You always win, I cannot be that much of a challenge for you.”
“We have to improve your fighting, though,” I said as I hopped back and forth on the tips of my toes. “We will never be able to join the king’s guard together if you keep fighting so poorly.”
“Kehn,” Hannan said in defeated, “they will never let us join the guard, you know this. We are not nobles.”
“Things might change by the time we are old enough to join,” I hoped.
Oh, how little did I know then just how much everything would change. And only in a short while too.
“We can fight now,” Hannan said, but then he held out a stern finger, like a scolding mother. “But then you have to swear to me that we will find the jackrabbits.”
“I swear.” I held up my right hand to show I meant it. Then I crouched down and put the sword back in my hand, readying myself.
Hannan stood tall and unsheathed his own wooden sword. We stepped closer to one another in the small clearing. Sunlight drifted through the leaves, creating a scattered pattern on the forest floor, resembling shattered glass. I pushed my toe into the dirt and twisted my foot back and forth, making an indent, while I balanced out my stance.
Hannan and I bowed to one another, our official start to the duel. The minute we straightened, I charged forward. Hannan sidestepped me, knowing that I was coming. I was always the one to make the first move. If I left that up to Hannan, the fight would never begin.
I turned and lashed out with a straight arm while Hannan easily parried me. It was an ideal match-up, considering my fighting style was lower and grounded, always on the attack. Hannan, on the other hand, stood tall and switched through the five basic positions with ease to defend against my relentless attacks.
If I had been smart back then, I would not have attacked so forcefully and let Hannan advance his own offensive fighting technique. Alas, I was ten and simply loved the sound of wood on wood, the jolt that went through my body, and the rush in my blood as I darted about my opponent and gained the advantage.
The break in the fight came when I tricked Hannan. I remember the moment precisely. The scene seemed to focus, erase any haze and fuzz to give me perfect clarity as I jabbed towards Hannan’s left, getting him to move his sword. However, with a rapid spin, I whirled around and swung two-handed towards Hannan’s right side. The problem was that I did not judge how close I was. The spin threw me off, and I came down hard against Hannan’s head.
My friend fell over backward, his sword falling from his hand. I dropped my own weapon and rushed towards him, the spell of the fight now broken. My knees slid into the dirt as I crouched beside the young boy.
“Hannan, Hannan!” I cried out.
Blood gushed from his head, sliding down his cheek. My hands hovered over Hannan, unsure of what to do with them. My fingers shook from the shock of it all, and my breathing quickened to an alarming rate.
Suddenly, Uri was at my side. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?” I gaped at her.
“Take off your shirt, and use it to clean up the blood,” Uri instructed, her voice sharp and authoritative.
I did not do what she asked right away. I continued to stare at my friend who looked so close to death, I did not know what to do. The only thing running through my head was the terror of the possibility that I killed Hannan.
“Kehn!” Uri snapped. “Take off your shirt.”
Her words, like needles poking my back, broke me out of my panic. I removed my own
shirt and crumbled it into a ball. Immediately, I cupped the back of Hannan’s head and lifted it slightly so I could press the fabric against the wound.
“You have to apply pressure,” Uri commanded.
Crimson spread along the cloth, so I pushed harder.
“Do not be so frightened,” Uri said as she lowered her voice, though it kept the same deliberate tone. “Head wounds bleed a lot. He will be alright.”
As if she willed it into being, my friend groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he was alive.
“Ow,” he grumbled with his eyes still closed.
“Oh, thank goodness you are okay,” I said, “I am sorry, Hannan.”
“Why does my head hurt so much?” Hannan asked dumbly.
“I may have cut it,” I winced.
“I thought the whole point of using fake swords was so that we did not get cut,” Hannan said sensibly, but then he hissed in pain.
“We need to get him home,” Uri concluded. “Someone with more training needs to see to that wound and stitch it up.”
“But what about the jackrabbits?” Hannan looked up at me, a rare feat, with wide and hurt eyes.
“I swear that we will come back as soon as you are healed,” I said with the most sincerity I could muster. I guided Hannan up to a seated position. “But I do not believe we should go hunting while you are in this state.”
“We are not hunting,” Hannan corrected. He whistled hot air through his teeth as he took over holding my shirt to his head. “I would never hurt them. I only wanted to observe them.”
“Right, I am sorry,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the miniscule correction. “Do you think you can stand?”
We managed to get Hannan to his feet with one of his hands clutching his head and the other arm draped over my shoulders. We hobbled together down the path. Our height difference, significant even back then, made traveling in this position difficult. Nevertheless, we trekked along the path one foot in front of the other.
I wished I could have warned myself at that moment. I wish I could have appeared as my adult self and stopped the young boys from reaching the top of the hill where they would happen upon a sight that would change the course of their lives forever.
I knew what was coming. The devastation, the horror, and the fear. I did not want to experience it all over again. The anticipation of knowing what was to come, of how my stomach would drop out from underneath me. The problem was that I was living in a memory that was already created. There was nothing I could do to alter the course of what was about to happen.
Hannan, Uri, Lyla, and I reached the top of the hill that would allow us to look down into the valley that contained the village of Hillcrent, our home. Except what lay before us was nothing of the home we knew and loved.
Instead, a sea of black spread out from the center of town. Remnants of our homes, shops, and gathering spaces pierced through the ground like dragon’s teeth. The trees we once climbed and swung from were flattened and crumbled. Ash fell from the sky like burnt snow and the air stunk of rot. There was not a soul in sight.
Hannan collapsed to his knees. “What is this?”
“I do not know,” I whispered. I could barely hear our conversation as rage consumed me. “We have to go down there.”
“No, Kehn, you cannot,” Uri said as she physically placed herself between me and the edge of the hill.
I did not realize that I surged forward, already on the attack. My knees collided with Uri’s body, and I tried to push her out of the way, but she pounced on me and held me down with both paws and the weight of her lion body.
“Hillcrent has been consumed by the contamination,” Uri informed me, inches from my face. “If you go down there, you will be infected too.”
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I shook my head, my hair rubbing against the grass. “No!” I cried.
“Kehn, I will release you, but only if you promise me you will not go down there,” Uri threatened. “Promise me.”
I nodded, unable to speak. My djer accepted my agreement and released me from underneath her hold. Hannan still crouched on the ground, his eyes stuck on the horrific scene. His mouth hung open just a little, and his neck stuck out further than normal, trying to get as close to the tragedy as he could.
I sat up and looked out onto the sight. However, something about it was different this time. Something different from what I remembered.
Standing at the bottom of the hill, on the edge of the wreckage, was a young woman with curly red hair and brilliant violet eyes. I did not remember her at first, but then a name appeared in my mind, and I held on to it, like an anchor stilling a ship.
Heloise interrupted my memory.
21
“What are you doing here?” Monte gaped with an open mouth. “How are you alive?”
“How is she your djer?” I asked, wanting to steer the conversation in a completely different direction. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a djer before me?”
“It is a long story,” Arabella said, addressing Monte. That was clear enough by the fact that the two of them could not stop looking at one another. I was rather uncomfortable being in between such a powerful gaze. Despite my squeamish stomach, I held my ground, feeling oddly defensive of Monte.
The rest of the group walked up behind us. Arabella bent a little and stepped back upon their touchdown. She held up her hands to protect her face, but Monte stepped forward in an attempt to reassure her.
“Do not fear,” he said in a kind voice that immediately put a bad taste in my mouth. “They are with us. No one will harm you.”
Arabella lowered her hands and looked at the beings emerging from the fog. “More dragons?”
“Yes,” Monte said with a nod. “Only two more, though.”
“But they are not…?” Arabella’s voice trailed off, stolen by sadness.
“No, they are not of the Teine clan,” Monte said, answering her unfinished question.
“Who is this, Montgomery?” Gideonia asked with a sharp undertone. “And how is she living with the contamination?”
For once in my life, I was grateful for Gideonia’s inherently suspicious nature. I completely sympathized and agreed with her. In fact, I was kind of emboldened by the fact that she and I were on the same page for once.
“Apparently, this is Arabella,” I said, not bothering to hide my irritation. I stuck my hand out flippantly. “Monte’s first djer.”
“Is your name Montgomery?” Gideonia challenged, her head snapping down in my direction. “I did not ask you the question, did I?”
So much for us being on the same page.
“Eva is correct,” Monte said. He walked over to Arabella and stood next to her. He sat, like an obedient puppy, and the sight alone, of the two of them together like that, made me want to gag. “Arabella was the first human I bonded with, and I would assume that it is the light gift I gave her that is keeping her alive.”
As if on cue, Arabella wiped some mud away from her face. We were able to see the inky black veins that crawled up her neck and stopped halfway up her right cheek.
“I am losing the light,” Arabella corrected. “The contamination has been eating up my gift. I am not able to use it anymore.”
The light in my own hand glowed a little brighter, mirroring my pride as it swelled. I saw Arabella’s eyes flick ever so slightly to my glowing hands, and her mouth tightened in jealousy.
“Well, this is all very…” Hannan said, but he stopped, unable to find the right word.
“Unconventional,” Zulu supplied.
Jealousy dried the back of my throat. It made my skin crawl and my fingers twitch. I had never known about Arabella. Part of me knew that I couldn’t entirely blame Monte since he thought she was dead, but he could have at least told me that he had another djer before me. Someone else he had bonded with in the last hundred years.
I didn’t know why, but I always thought Monte was a rebel or a re
cluse. And the fact that in Andsdyer, only two other people had bonded with dragons ever that it wouldn’t be an issue. But again, Reon’s nagging warning about how little I knew about this world bothered me. Here was a clear example of how not all of the rules applied.
“I thought you said this isle was uninhabited,” Gideonia asked without exactly questioning Monte.
“I am not the only one, and I would be happy to show you,” Arabella offered, “but you will have to excuse me. I never expected to see Montgomery again. It is quite a shock.”
“I bet,” I growled, feeling utterly unsympathetic, “but we would really like to know why Reon spared your life.”
As I spoke the words, a thought crossed through my mind. I am sure it was fueled by my envy and inherent dislike of Arabella, but I reacted to it all the same. I unsheathed my sword and stepped forward to point it at the woman’s throat.
“Are you working with him?” I asked with a low and threatening voice.
Arabella immediately held up her hands. “Absolutely not! I am contaminated. Do you think I would be contaminated if I were working with him?”
“I’ve seen it happen,” I defended, refusing to stand down.
“Eva!” Monte exclaimed, appalled by my actions. “Put that away. There is no need.”
“I think there is a need to be on our guard,” I argued as I kept the sword in place. “We have met one too many traitors in our time fighting this war.”
“I swear I am not one of them,” Arabella pleaded.
“I have a way we can know that for sure,” I threatened with a snarl.
“Do not even think about it, Eva,” Gideonia warned from behind me. The navy blue dragon lumbered up to be at my side. “If Monte trusts the girl, then we must as well.”
“But she’s… she’s…” I muttered, the words unable to come out of my throat.
“Exactly,” Zulu said calmly. The small black and orange dragon came up on my other side so that the two of them flanked me. “He would know if she had ill intentions with us.”
