Dragon's Captive: Dragons of Rur

by Shea Malloy

  “Then rewrite it,” I say, surprising the both of us.

  “Thank you,” she says quietly as I stand in preparation to leave. “Thank you for trying to avoid unnecessary loss of lives.”

  I’m gripped by her stare. In the infirmary I realized her eyes are not black as I’d assumed last night, but umber like the earth after a heavy rainfall. Her lips, plump and dusky pink, are unsmiling. They’re no less tempting than when she asked me earlier what I’d reward her for good behaviour.

  “Do not mistake my practical decision for some sort of change toward freedom for humans. That’s never going to happen. The mining plant in Vak produces significant amounts of processed Rurium steel, and thus, profit to Andrasar. Killing swathes of the humans will necessitate a tedious process of hiring new workers. The new workers will harbour resentment about the fate of those before them, and the cycle would only repeat itself.”

  She frowns. “I understand.”

  I make my way toward the door, then turn and glare at her. “Don’t try to escape while I’m gone. You will not succeed and I will punish you for attempting it.”

  Her forehead creases in a scowl. She mutters an insult I hear perfectly and which I should turn around and discipline her for, but I continue on my way out the door and down to Ronan’s office.

  When I enter his office, I find him facing one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard. Ronan is a sturdily built male of moderate height with hair lightened to silver.

  His shoulders are often squared as if any minute he might need to fight an opponent. I suppose for someone who has dedicated his whole life to enforcing the law in Andrasar, he doesn’t know how to shut off his need for constant vigilance.

  “Theron, Eyin told me about the attack,” Ronan greets when he sees me. “Good to see you alive and well.”

  I join him where he stands at the window. “I didn’t tell Eyin the full story because I did not want to alarm her. I was led into a trap by a zevyet of the Andrak claiming you wanted to speak with me in a private location.”

  “That hardly sounds like something I would do,” says Ronan, coolly. “I would have spoken with you via implant.”

  “In hindsight, it was foolish to believe the human, but he hurried away so quickly I felt compelled to follow his directions.”

  Ronan’s golden eyes shine with disapproval.

  “Never trust humans, Theron. Those worthless cretins lie at every turn.” His lips are a hard, angry line, his eyes burning with rage. “None of them deserve the air we let them breathe.”

  “The reason I came to tell you is that the humans attacked me with Rurium blades, an uncommon weapon for humans to possess,” I say before he can launch into his usual long-winded spiel of his hatred of humans. “I want you to open an investigation, starting with those within the Andrak. There may be a traitor among us and I intend to find out who.”

  8

  Theron

  —

  I’ve lived always lived by myself, content with the solitude.

  The only interruption on my quiet I welcome is Eyin coming to tell me about her day or a new discovery she made in her work. Whatever females I’ve had in my home often leave soon after we’ve had use of each other.

  But Seela is here to stay. Well, as long as she serves her purpose. I’d prefer her being out of sight and therefore out of mind, but she putters around my quarters, lifting this, poking that, making unnecessary noises that distract me from my work.

  Granted, I’ve an office I can use and sequester myself from Seela and her noise. I tell myself I don’t use it because I want to keep an eye on her, and make sure she doesn’t do anything foolish like try to run away.

  I know the truth of the matter is that I enjoy watching her.

  Like now as I sit at the table pretending to work. Instead, I watch her prepare my morning meal. There’s no wall dividing the kitchen from the main room, so my view of her is uninterrupted.

  Today is her second day as my slave and it is obvious many of the appliances are unfamiliar to her. She’s truly a yokel if she’s from the rural, backwater province of Yoah.

  I know she knows I’m watching her. Her movements are too mechanical. More than once I’ve caught her glancing at me before quickly looking away. Each time she does this, her shoulders hunch and her body tightens as if it’s to protect herself.

  As if she’s afraid of me.

  She should be.

  When she’s finished preparing the meal, she brings the tray over and sets the dish down before me. What she’s prepared looks palatable and has a delicious scent, but I don’t eat it right away.

  The meals I had before Seela’s arrival and up to last night were prepared by Andrasari cooks. I’ve never dared eat from the hands of a human.

  “You don’t like it?” she asks.

  “I haven’t tasted it yet to judge.”

  “You think I poisoned it, don’t you?”

  “Is it?”

  “Of course it isn’t!” she snaps. She bites her lips together beneath my look of consternation. Breathing slowly, she softens her voice. “You were watching me the entire time.”

  “Humans are stealthy when they have evil intentions.”

  “Anyone can be stealthy when they’re up to no good.” She shakes her head. “What’s the point of having me as your zevyet? You don’t trust me and I don’t want to be here.”

  It’s a question I’ve asked myself several times already but I haven’t found an answer that I can accept. I’ve told myself she might be useful in my fight against the rebellions, but there are many other humans who can do the job without being in such close proximity to me.

  The real answer: she is my asafura, and whether I like it or want to accept it, I can’t let her go.

  “You are useful, that’s why you’re here.” I indicate the tablet. “I’ve noticed you’ve made changes to the speech. While most of it is passable, I got rid of the other unnecessary additions.”

  She purses her lips. “I didn’t know you could read Human Standard.”

  “I would be foolish not to learn the language of my enemy if I need to defeat them.”

  “The history books will laud your efficient tyranny, zevyena,” she says, her tone laced with sarcasm.

  I scowl. “Use that tone with me again and I will remind you of the purpose of that collar around your neck and how tyrannical I can be.”

  She glares. “Is there anything else you require of me?”

  “Eat something,” I tell her as I begin chewing on what she prepared for me. To my surprise, it’s very good. “We leave soon and the journey to Vak is some distance.”

  She gives me a strange look but says nothing as she returns to the kitchen and busies herself there.

  Soon, we leave and make our way to the Andrak’s air cruiser port. Air cruisers are a weak imitation of flight travel, often only used by the Unshifted or elderly Andrasari who cannot maintain their dragon form for long.

  But I cannot shift into my dragon for the journey as I’m taking Seela with me. When we climb into the air cruiser, all of her chilliness from our earlier conversation dissipates, replaced by interest and excitement.

  Her fingers dig into the sides of her seat as we take off and only relax after she’s grown accustomed to the speed. She peers out through the transparent glass hood of the cruiser at Andrasar City below us.

  “It’s because of mining why humans are here on Rur,” she says suddenly. “Excessive mining for the sake of advancement. It led to a radiation leak that killed millions before my ancestors managed escape.”

  I sense a lesson of some sort in her preachy tones.

  “What’s the purpose of this story?”

  She turns away from the view zooming by outside to award me a tight smile.

  “Andrasar should hope that history doesn’t repeat itself. That their quest for rapid advancement doesn’t lead to the destruction of their lands and Rur as a whole. That they’re not forced to relocate to another planet whe
re its inhabitants might mistreat them.”

  “You can rest easy knowing that history will not repeat itself. Rur beings are far stronger than humans can ever hope to be.”

  Nevertheless, her words discomfort me because within them there is some truth.

  The Rur way has always been to never take more than what Kahafura has given us. We don’t ravage our lands. But when Aphat became the Konai, all he sought was riches and he found it in the thick Rurium veins inhabiting Andrasar.

  The precious metal is mined in large quantities and sold to neighbouring regions. Some of our beautiful forests have already been destroyed, the land gouged out. There have been reports that the waters near some mining sites are being poisoned by the dangerous chemical leaks due to unsafe mining procedures.

  Implementing safer mining procedures have been an uphill battle due to some of the mining companies’ resistance to change. However, threats of large financial penalties and lengthy imprisonment often work to ensure their compliance.

  We journey the rest of the way in silence. When we arrive at the mining site, it is alive with activity. The mid-morning sun awards us with pleasant warmth, an acrid scent in the air from the mines.

  The mining site’s area manager approach us as soon as we get out of the cruiser. He casts a disdainful glance at Seela that irks me before he regards me with a simpering smile and a flamboyant showing of respect.

  “Nai Theron, it is an honour to have you in our presence this fine morning,” he says. “I will have the humans gather right away to hear your speech.”

  “I won’t be the one speaking today,” I say. “My zevyet will be the voice. It is my hope they will listen to reason from their own kind.”

  He nods emphatically. “A wise decision. And if all else fails, then we will have no choice but to kill them all.”

  Seela stiffens at this. She’s about to open her mouth and cause trouble for herself, so I order the area manager to lead us to where she’ll read her speech.

  We are surrounded by nothing but red dirt, the ground uneven as we walk. When Seela loses her balance, I reach for her immediately, catching her by the waist. Her soft body feels good against me. Too good. I hold onto her a few seconds longer than necessary. She gazes up at me as she mutters a soft thanks, her dark brown eyes a leash on my soul.

  The temptation to drag her to the red, dusty floor and kiss her until she slaps my chest for air is so strong, I pull her a little closer in preparation to do it.

  “Watch your step so you don’t fall flat on your face,” I tell her harshly when I remember myself and where we are. I release her. I always do this when she affects me. I push her away with my words in the hopes of pushing away the feelings and thoughts she inspires in me. “I won’t help you again.”

  “Yes, zevyena,” she says coldly, looking away from me.

  A makeshift podium is erected as the area manager sounds the order for the humans to gather near it. The humans accumulate before us, their skin and clothing covered in red dust. Their expressions range from open hostility to apathy, and I already suspect a speech isn’t going to change their minds away from defiance.

  Beside me, Seela visibly struggles to subdue her fear. It’s strange that an individual who faced down a dragon several times her size now trembles before a crowd of her own people.

  “Convince them or they will have to perish,” I remind her as I hand her the tablet. She nods silently and takes the tablet with trembling hands.

  Squaring her shoulders, Seela begins to read the speech. Her voice is clear and smooth, conveying the message of Andrasar’s might and the consequences to those who challenge it with foolish notions of rebellions.

  Midway through, a lone voice shouts out a word in Human Standard.

  “Traitor!”

  Seela stumbles over her words and darts a worried at me but forges ahead. More voices begin to shout traitor at her. She cuts off her speech.

  “I am not a traitor,” she says angrily. The area manager looks to me as if awaiting my order to punish the humans, but I shake my head. I want to see how this proceeds first before we intervene. “I’m trying to prevent a needless war.”

  “They’ve taken everything we have already!” shouts a human near the front of the crowd, his neck bulging with fury. “Fighting’s all we got left!”

  “You still have your lives,” Seela says. “There are other ways to effect change other than through killing.”

  The crowd has become restless. More voices shouting as the humans get angrier by the second. A thick piece of metal comes sailing out from the midst of the crowd directly at Seela.

  I pull her out of harm’s way, shielding her so the metal strikes me instead. A cacophony of angry shouts erupts as the area manager orders the Andrasari guards to subdue the crowd.

  Rage rises within me, my dragon bristling with fury. Not because of the pain from where the metal has struck me, but because these humans had intended to harm Seela.

  A riot erupts and I release Seela. My clothing tears away from me as my body morphs into my dragon form. I will kill them. I will burn them all. I was foolish to think that they would listen to anything else but fire searing them alive.

  I roar, the fire burning in my belly. Everyone, even the other Andrasari, grow frozen and silent.

  Then a voice cries my name plaintively.

  “Please don’t kill them, Theron,” Seela begs. “Please.”

  Everything within me says I should ignore her plea to spare the humans’ lives. They deserve no less than death by fire. But there’s a look in her eyes that says if I do it, if I kill them, she will never forgive me for it.

  I shouldn’t care whether I have her forgiveness or not. I shouldn’t care what she thinks of me. I am her master and she is my slave. I am a monster and she is a naive, innocent creature that has somehow wandered into my clutches.

  But it’s that look in her eyes. That look that made me spare her life after she saved mine. Like she’s given up hope. In what? I don’t know. Yet I don’t like it. As much as I accept that I am a monster, I don’t like that I am the one that makes her feel this way.

  So I retreat to my primary form. Clamping a hand on her arm, I guide her wordlessly back to the air cruiser.

  9

  Seela

  —

  Twenty-six detar has passed since I became a dragon’s captive.

  The time has gone by so quickly, I can’t believe it’s been that long. Furthermore, I can’t believe that in that space of time, I’ve not found my escape.

  Though, if I’m being honest, I have not sought it like I’d planned. Like I’m supposed to. In moments like these when I’m by myself, shrouded by the darkness in my room, I’m forced to listen to the words of those humans from the mining plant in my head over and over again.

  Traitor. Traitor.

  I had a chance to end this. Or at least, make the fight for humans a lot easier to achieve our freedom. I didn’t. Not for the first time, I second guess my actions. Had I let Theron die, I would be free right this moment and not be captive as his slave.

  Several chances to take his life are afforded me, but I don’t do it. I don’t even want to attempt it.

  Instead, I continue in my treacherous behaviour by being attracted to him. By remembering the feel of his hands around me when he saved me from the attack at the mining plant. By letting stupid hope foster that I can get through to him because he listened to me when I begged him not to kill the humans.

  He didn’t do it because you asked, he did it because it was more trouble than it was worth.

  In the time I’ve known Theron, I’ve learned that he is not one to make purposeless decisions or actions. He was raised to hate humans. He didn’t spare their lives because he’d suddenly developed a conscience.

  I slide off my bed and stand.

  “Lights on,” I say. The diminutive room floods with light.

  As I put on clean clothing, I wonder if this is why I haven’t escaped. Am I an animal? Di
d I trade my freedom for a collar because it meant a roof over my head, a soft bed, and food in my belly?

  If I were still free, I’d still be living in the forest, still always on the brink of starvation or dehydration, fighting against not only nature, but fear of discovery from other Andrasari dragons who might not have been as accommodating with my life as Theron.

  Traitor!

  The voice is louder than ever, but I drown it out as I prepare myself for another day as my enemy’s servant.

  Even though it’s already morning, it’s still dark. I like to get up early as it was a habit I acquired when I worked with Ikkon in the bakery. We’d rise before the sun and get as much baking done so everything was fresh for our customers.

  There was often so much work to do in the bakery. Here in the Andrak, I have more time on my hands than I need as Theron’s slave. I am nothing but a housekeeper trapped in an already spotless home.

  The most I do is prepare his meals which he eats with nary a sound of appreciation. Not that it annoys me or that I’m looking for it. If I were to hold my breath in expectation of gratitude from Theron, I’d die from lack of oxygen.

  Sometimes he gives me miscellaneous tasks related to his work, but never anything that contains important information.

  Yet another area where I fail my people, I guess. As a slave to Andrasar’s Overseer, I am in the perfect position to glean as much information that can possibly aid in the rebellion. Another thing I don’t do.

  I can’t, either, because Theron makes sure to keep the doors to his bedroom and office locked.

  He has an impressive library and a console. To my surprise, he lets me use both, so I spend a good portion of my time reading or watching a show.

  He has a sizable collection of rare and old books. Even books that were in the possession of the first generation of humans to set foot on Rur.