by Deiri Di
"Are you?" Chase lifted his sword.
"Kill the abomination," Lady Silvia commanded.
The soldiers attacked.
Chase danced.
His sword glinted in the sunlight as he wove his way between the blades, casting red into the air as his footsteps sent his steel sliding through flesh. Soldier after soldier fell to his flow. They fell to a man whose life centered around one thing and one thing only: survival.
Yet there were so many, and he was only one.
Only so much the body can take before it flags and wavers, and Lady Silvia had brought an army to do the work of an assassin.
Mari had another choice.
She had spent so much time fixating on death, on how she didn't want to be responsible, how she was a bad person for taking a life in defense of her own. How she let her dragon take another.
Here was a man fighting to defend her.
Here was a man who was a murderer too.
Mari could see it coming.
There was the blow that would take him down.
The soldier came from behind, and Chase turned, just a breath too slow.
Mari didn't think about it anymore.
She didn’t think about the heated words or moment.
She didn't balance the moral implications or obsess over the value of life.
She simply acted.
She lifted her oak branch and smashed the soldier into the concrete.
"What?" Lady Silvia shrieked.
Chase grinned at Mari through the blood that dripped down his face.
He cartwheeled over the corpses.
Mari swung her branches down, sending bodies flying along a path of destruction.
"You." Lady Silvia was beside her, next to the base of the oak. "This is why we make a game of exterminating your kind. You connected ones, you little lights flickering in the dark of humanity's slumber, you have the ability to wake them all up."
"You could have just left me alone," Mari said. "I wouldn't have been any threat if you had just let me be."
"You think you're a threat now?" Lady Silvia laughed. She pointed at Mari, a sword in her hand. "You're just a child. So easy to snuff out."
She stepped forward, resting the sword against the base of Mari's neck.
"Chase," Lady Silvia called out. "Throw down your weapon."
None of the branches could reach them here at the base.
Chase didn't hesitate.
His sword clattered to the ground.
One of the soldiers kicked the back of his knee, sending him down.
"Such a stupid weakness," Lady Silvia called out. "You know what we call you in court? The boy we can't kill. To have the boy who survives taken so easily because he doesn't want a human to die... how incredibly-"
Enough.
Time to embrace the violence.
Mari landed on Lady Silvia's back, driving her claws into the woman's skin, throwing her weight back to cause the elf to stagger backward, pulling her sword away from the neck. Mari hissed, exposing her fangs.
Then she bit the elf with her dragon mouth.
Mari tasted the woman's death.
Lady Silvia screamed for only a few moments until the dragon's poison silenced the lilting melody of her voice with a final crunch.
The remaining soldiers looked at one another.
Chase rose to his feet.
"As heir and right hand of the Queen, I declare that by the right of combat, Lady Silvia's lands now belong to the Dragon, Mari. Swear your fealty now or die."
"But she's a human!" A soldier cried out.
"Could a human train a dragon? Could a human cast a spell to shift the very limbs of a tree? Have you ever heard of a human doing that? No. You haven’t. This is no human before you." Chase leaped over to her. He brushed one hand across her cheek to lift her hair, smearing blood across her face in the process. "Look at her ears! There is scar tissue. This Lady before you was mutilated as a child."
Mari blinked.
There was no scar tissue on top of her ears.
One soldier looked at the pulp of her comrade, smashed into oblivion. "I see it." She bent one knee. "I swear my fealty to the Dragon. May she grant me mercy."
"Do you grant your mercy?" Chase asked.
"Yes?" Mari wasn't quite sure what was going on, but it was better than the taste of blood in her mouth and the screams of the dying.
A sigh of relief ran through the remaining soldiers.
They quickly followed suit.
"Go back to your Lady's keep with the bodies of your fallen. Tell your comrades about what happened here today. Go back to your families. Tell them of her childhood mutilation and of her mercy. If any word spreads of her dragon, every single one of you, every single one of your children and your children's children, will die." Chase said. "Until she returns to her lands, you will say she killed Lady Silvia with her bare hands. Is that understood?"
"We can't get back," one soldier said. "We don't know how to open the gate. Lady Silvia was the one who brought us through."
"I will open the passage," Chase said.
Mari walked away from them, Miss Kitty riding on her shoulder.
Chase followed.
"I thought elves didn't lie," she said.
"I'm not an elf," he replied. "The court has made that clear."
"Well, I'm not an elvish Lady, nor do I have any idea of how to deal with an entire castle full of people whose friends and family I just smashed into pulp."
"I'll help you."
Mari sighed.
"Listen, you asked me to come with you," Chase said. "Come with me instead. Stand beside me. With your help, with your power, I can do more than just survive."
Mari stroked her finger under Miss Kitty's chin, eliciting a purr.
"Mari," Chase continued. "For the first time, I dream of the future and see life rather than a slow fight to my death. Please come with me. Support me."
She wasn't ready for that.
She didn't know how to balance her own thoughts, let alone figure out how to work with a man with a childhood of trauma and a boyhood of violence.
"I will give you my answer in six months," Mari said. "If I decide to join you, I will come to meet you here, beside the oak tree in exactly six months' time."
Chase nodded.
"If I do join you, I do so on my terms. Don't plan my future for me, because I won't put myself in a mold of your creation. If I come, it is because..."
She couldn’t say it.
The four letter word hung on the tip of her tongue, unable to slip out. It was held back by the deceit, by the bullying, by the confusion, and by the anger. What she felt for him was convoluted and confused. It was a kiss in a dungeon, naked bodies huddling together for warmth, it was him rescuing her time and time again, him putting his life in between her and death.
She looked at him with all of that held back, contained in that four letter word that couldn’t cross the distance between their hearts - not yet. She wasn’t ready yet.
She needed to heal before she could love.
"I understand," Chase said.
Mari fingered the address in her pocket.
It was time to find her way towards balance on her own. To figure out the space inside her, that was filled with violence and death. To figure out who she was without the elves coming in to rip her life apart. To find who she was as a woman.
It was time to disappear.
It was time to train her dragon.
She turned to leave the mess behind for Chase to clean up.
"Mari," Chase said.
She looked over her shoulder, through the span of dragon wings. "What?"
"You're going to ride a dragon," Chase said.
The dried blood cracked on her cheek as she smiled.
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading Faeted. In the moment that I’m putting this up to pre-order, I’m halfway through writing the third and final book in this series, Faemous.
&n
bsp; What I have to say isn’t the happiest at the moment, so please skip ahead to the Patreon announcement if you want a dose of bubbly positivity.
In my personal life, I am currently dealing with an injury that makes movement difficult. I went from hiking down to the base of the Grand Canyon and back up again to not being able to walk more than a block without pain. I’m in rehab, and I’m looking at my surgical options, but even so, the pain of my injury, both mental and physical, means that I get hit with a solid wave of depression every so often.
Writing is the little light of joy that keeps burning in the midst of my struggles.
Both the hot and fast sexy shorts that I write, and this longer, more emotionally intimate series - they all help me in ways I didn’t know possible. I’m able to live in a world where nothing limits me, where the air beneath my wings lifts me to new heights and the dragon in my heart burns away any thoughts of trouble.
When I was a teenager I used to look out the window from the backseat of my parent’s car and imagine a dragon flying through the clouds. It was my dragon. I imagined the wind curling over its wings, lifting it up as it wove a pattern of joy through the silken layers of the air.
In any case, I believe that it will get better.
I believe that my rehab will work, that there will be a surgical solution, that I can sling a heavy backpack on my back again and hike out into the wild to remind myself why I love the comforts of civilization. I believe it, and I have compassion for myself and acknowledge that moment is not the present moment. This present moment I have to rest a great deal and let my body find pathways around the problem
I wish you joy and happiness, in this moment and all the moments to come.
Join my Mailing
Join my mailing list!
https://www.deiridi.com/newsletter/
***************************************
Want more stories?
This is my author page on amazon, find all my books there:
https://www.amazon.com/Deiri-Di/e/B08FWPCCV1
***************************************
Please leave a review!
I read every review.
Both enthusiastically positive reviews and constructive criticism reviews are helpful to me. On one hand, the positive ones encourage other readers, on the other hand, the constructive ones help me learn what I need to be a better writer and provide higher quality material to you.
If you have the time to leave a review, please do, and I will read it.
Thank you!
Patreon for Audioooks
Heyo my friends.
I have a Patreon! Every week I release chapters of my published books audio recorded by yours truly. Want to know what my voice sounds like? Want to hear me read my sultry stories into a mic with just the hint of a lisp? Support me on my Patreon and get access to everything I’ve recorded so far, and everything I’m going to record in the future!
https://www.patreon.com/deiridi
About the Author
Deiri Di is a gamer, tech nerd, plant enthusiast with a vibrant love of exotic fruit. In her spare time, she plays a wide variety of video games. She is particularly fond of those she can play while doing other things, especially writing. She feels rather awkward about writing about herself in the third person but is not so secretly amused by it, as it is important to find the charm and delight in life.
She loves chocolate, hates long walks on the beach, and is happiest doing yoga.
When in doubt she meditates with crystal bowls and uses citations when arguing with people on the internet whenever necessary. She finds comfort in science and ecstatic joy in the knowledge that there is far more out there than we can currently sense, measure, or understand.
Recommendations
If you like knotty short stories with a lot of insta love heat, try out my Cryo Crisis series.
If you like mid-length novellas with violence and surprise aggressive female characters, try out my Wild Mars series.
If you like full-length science fiction novels with a lot of heart and spice, check out my most recent book, Unspoken.
Next up is a sneak peak of book 3 in this series!
Faemous - Chapter 1
Wind Chimes
Mariposa looked at the earth ship and wondered if a dragon could burn it down. Maybe the fire would just bake it. It was made out of mud, after all. Well, some of it was made out of mud. It was a house built out of recycled material and earth, a construct shaped from the human determination to reuse rather than raze.
Tarps covered the top.
The building was only half done.
"They utilize the stack effect for temperature regulation," Jonathan said. "At least, that is what Buttermoon calls it. Really all you need is good insulation and an attic fan so that during the summer, you can draw in all that cool night air then shut it up during the day for natural air cooling. None of that death trap air conditioning energy suck of box buildings."
Miss Kitty chirped and rubbed her eye ridge against Mari's leg.
A thin layer of skin peeled off the reptile's head and fell to the ground. The skin underneath was molten black. The thin veins of rich red shone through the dragonette's flesh, the merest hint of the destructive force that lay beneath the predator's outer black.
"Your dog sure sheds a lot," Jonathan said.
"She's a dragon," Mari explained.
Telling the absolute truth was fun. Here, no one seemed to believe she was crazy. They just thought she was funny. Back at home, her parents would have freaked out, and it would have been right back to the pharmaceuticals.
Can't have a daughter who thinks she sees fairies.
Can't have a daughter whose imaginary friends cut her up.
"Dragon is a better name for a big dog like that than Miss Kitty," Jonathan said. He was a calm man, centered in the self-assurance of his community. He had chosen to experiment with his life and create something of a deeper experience than the repetition of the white picket fence and a two-car garage.
"It's just about time for the meeting," Jonathan said. "You ready?"
"To find out if you're going to send me back to my parents? Yes." The anxiety lay thick in her gut, like a bad taco.
Mari followed Jonathan across the wooden bridge that spanned the natural stream that fed through the property. They walked through the wisteria archways and through the raised gardens. There were several "normal" houses on the property. They came with the land when Jonathan, Buttermoon, and the other founding members bought the property to live out their dream of communal living with all the sanctity of personal space and privacy.
They walked down the steps, past the gravel-strewn dance floor that doubled as a safe outdoor fire zone, to the community kitchen.
It was an open-air building.
One half of the building was thick rugs and pillows, couches, and a coffee table. A piano sat in the corner, fabric draped around it. The other half of the building was gravel and stainless steel. Commercial grade sinks and stove, a massive refrigerator, and a wire rack filled with huge
buckets of beans and sprouts.
The living room was filled with the community.
A couple younger teenagers, a half dozen adults, and a few of the interns who came to live and work on the property peppered the couches and pillows. None of the younger children were present.
“Take a seat Mariposa,” Buttermoon said.
The self-proclaimed techno-hippy radiated kindness as she patted the seat next to her. She was a middle-aged woman with streaks of silver-painted through her jet black hair like brush strokes on a midnight canvas. She didn't do anything to dye or change it. Buttermoon told Mari
she wanted to age with all the beauty that comes with the acceptance of one's personal inner grace.
"Everyone, I know she's been here for just a couple days, but if you haven't had the chance to meet her, this is Mariposa," the older woman continued. "We're meeting here to discuss her stay at Wind Chimes."
/>
Mari's attention shifted.
She spread her wings, and the updraft lifted her body.
The sun setting over the horizon filled the sky with the burning light of the coming darkness. The mountainside was alive. She circled the span of her shadow, sending ripples of fear through the underbrush.
The land breathed the movement of prey.
"Our internships are filled," Harry said. He was a blunt man. Where other people might take their time meandering around the point, he didn't seem to have a problem with getting to the heart of the matter with a speed that was considered rude to sensitive people. "We aren't
going to have even the possibility of an opening for another three months."
Like the sunset, her shadow blended into the black.
What about your parents? Don't they deserve to know where you are?"
The room waited for Mari to respond.
Her wings folded as she dove headfirst towards death.
Mari held out her arm. "My stepmother did this to me before I left."
The burn had faded, but it was still visible. Her stepmother had pushed her into the stove. In the totality of all of the horrible things that had happened to Mari in her life, a burn was the smallest of it all. Her father choosing to defend her stepmother rather than her was the tip of the iceberg that drove her from home, but that was all it was.
It was a small moment that lay upon a stack of other small moments.
It lay upon a mountain that love didn't know how to climb.
Mari didn't want to forgive.
She simply wanted to go someplace where her past didn't know how to find her, where she could spend time healing and finding herself.
The rabbit's neck broke on impact.
Her teeth pierced the hair, and blood filled her mouth.
Mari was something more than she was before, something feral.
She was no longer just a special human who could traverse the slipstreams of magic and see creatures that no one else could quite process. She was also a bloodthirsty dragon.
