by Lisa Daniels
Though he also knew that girl would be chewing her lip non-stop until she found out what happened to her family.
“Yeah, yeah,” Seon said. “I’ll see what I can do for your girl.”
My girl. Everyone’s already assuming that’s the case.
It twisted his heart to know Anya had those nightmares every night. Although she seemed to be coping well, adjusting to the fact that she wasn’t a slave, that she could wear finer clothes, walk with a spring in her step, and no longer have to keep her eyes glued upon the floor, her real state of mind betrayed her at night.
The week couldn’t end soon enough.
The night before he was due to leave, Anya had sat close to him. Closer than she normally dared, since she liked to keep a wide bubble of personal space. Possibly because she’d never had it before.
“You’re going tomorrow, right? Back to that place. Back to seeing if you can… rescue them.”
“Yes.”
She absently fumbled with her hair, appearing so nervous and lost, that for a moment, Kalgrin wanted to scoop her up and say that everything would be okay. However, he knew he also didn’t have the ability to promise that. It would hurt if he went to the plantation, only to find all six members of her family dead. No false hopes. Just a reassurance he’d do everything in his power to make sure he found them, and bring them to Tarn.
“I’m really scared,” she whispered. “All I wanted to do was speak up. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right to see everyone so crushed like that.”
“I know. It must be hard to not be broken, when everyone else around you is.”
Anya swallowed, her eyes dark, sad. “I think I would have become like them. In a year. Maybe two. No one listened. And the one who did sold me out. It’s like we don’t want to be free. We just want to be slaves to them and…” She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. “Just maybe we’re supposed to be like this.”
“No!” Kalgrin’s voice came out harsher than he intended. “No. It was never meant to be like this. And don’t you ever allow yourself to think any different, okay? That’s what the wyrms want you to believe. But you need to believe different.” The fury boiled inside. These wretched humans, they needed to realize their lives were more than just to be some lunatic’s slave. He praised Anya for her strength of will, but understood how close to that edge she must have been. Probably staring into its depths. But the last spurt of free will had led her careening into his path.
And now she was his responsibility.
“Take care, little human,” Kalgrin said, now leaning forward to give her a kiss on the forehead. His heart hammered when he did this. His first kiss, in the guise of something tender and warm. Really, he wanted to kiss her lips, to kiss the protests and misery out of her.
He restrained himself, though. She wouldn’t be ready for that.
Maybe she’d never be ready.
Leaving Anya safe, promising to be back by the morning, he took to the sky. He liked that she watched anxiously, and wished him good luck. He liked that she brushed a casual hand over his shoulder, getting that last bit of body contact in before he departed. Maybe she was starting to like him?
Silly, silly. She’s just grateful you helped her. Anyone would like you. Doesn’t mean a thing. Still, he thought about the fact that she’d accepted his kiss. Had there been a look of wonder in her eyes?
Maybe. No point reflecting on it now. Now he clawed through the sky, his great red wings beating on either side like pennants in a breeze. He snorted in anticipation of the conflict. Of putting an end to these wyrms, once and for all.
Reaching that accursed plantation a few hours later, he observed from the outskirts, heart full of anger and pity. Such wretched humans. Scraping by on a meager existence, with an idiot of a wyrm who didn’t understand that fear did fuck-all if you wanted reliable, happy workers. Beat the humans down, crush their souls into dust, all you had was a miserable population with a growing sense of anger. That anger would one day boil over, and their masters’ heads would end up on spikes. Powerful dragon or not. Just like what happened in the past. When the dragons first came to power.
No. That was not the way to do things. The wyrms had it all wrong. Humans needed love. Respect. A purpose that made them happy. Reasons to keep going, other than terror and sullen defeat in their souls. But no matter how many times he and his drakes lobbied for better rights for humans in the big cities, the wyrms consistently outvoted them. The wyrms honestly believed that if the humans were given a better education and treated nicely, then they would revolt and society would collapse!
Fools. Society would collapse anyway like this, once the dissent got too high. And Kalgrin intended to help things hurry along.
In his human form, he bared his teeth, crouching as he watched the human workers toil in the fields. He felt their misery, their aching bones, the oppressive despair that permeated their movements. He watched the wyrm overseer pace around, cracking a whip, sometimes hitting someone for no reason that Kalgrin saw. They all worked hard. The reason they might be lethargic was because they worked too hard.
His thoughts flashed to Anya back home. An ugly duckling, transformed into a creature of astonishing beauty. A fire in her dark eyes, and that boil of loathing from injustice. Her spirit remained. She had not been broken, though she admitted she came close.
Kalgrin crouched at the edge of the woods, ducking into shadow. He wanted to keep her to himself, though the selfish desire would likely restrict her. Usually his group gave humans away to drakes who employed workers, or sometimes placed them in sanctuaries dedicated to humans, who had conjured protections around their towns to stop the wyrms from entering. That, of course, required magic. The thing humans weren’t supposed to have, and the one thing that terrified wyrms. Humans with magic.
If only there were more drakes around to help Kalgrin. But the wyrms outnumbered.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Okay. Kill the owner, check in on Anya’s family. She’d been unable to fully appreciate her newfound freedom with the fear for her family hovering over her like an executioner’s axe. Understandable. She also still didn’t know what to make of him, having been trained her whole life to believe dragons were superior to humans. He got that impression reinforced with almost every interaction with her. She still struggled to grasp the fact that drakes were different. Kinder in general.
She always looked at him as if she expected a mask to fall off his face at any moment, revealing the monster inside.
He still remembered the utter shock upon her face when she found out that his mother was pure human.
Yes. Drakes didn’t mind breeding with the humans. Certainly not to the point where they had to kill any human they slept with.
The hours slipped by. The workers packed up and night soon fell over the wheat and cotton fields. His heart pulsed fast. Kalgrin made his move at last, hand gripping the diamond-bladed sword in his sheath – a weapon that killed all types of dragons, regardless of their forms. It slid through their scales like butter, or their human skins with embarrassing ease. Fortunately for both wyrms and drakes, humans rarely mustered the coin to get their hands on diamond weapons. Otherwise things might be less unbalanced than they were.
Anyway. Kalgrin knew where the guards existed, and he knew the security had tightened on the serf village now as they watched out for the missing traitor, leaving less at the main house. Less than the night she ran away, of course. But perhaps more than usual.
Half an hour later, he knew he wouldn’t be flying back to call it off. The attack would take place. And Kalgrin planned to kill the lord.
He prowled across the plantation from the eastern side, careful to stick to shadows, to move sinuously and efficiently. Reaching the house made him sneer quietly at the guards’ incompetence. Likely they never expected any danger from any other directions, other than from the tiny human village. They lived in the middle of nowhere. And no one cared enough to visit plantation lords.
Two guards
stood at the main entrance. Lowborn wyrms, doing menial duty they hated, and really not paying attention. One strolled out of sight for a moment to take a piss in the grass, and Kalgrin lunged at him then, swinging his diamond sword through the neck of the wyrm’s human form. He died without a sound, eyes frozen in surprise.
Not the first time Kalgrin had killed. And not the last. The muted thump of the body should make the other wyrm investigate. When his companion came to check, that one died too, spending his last moment gaping at a decapitated body.
Anger filled Kalgrin upon sneaking into the house, built upon the suffering of others.
To think of how these beasts would treat his mother if they got their grubby hands upon her. They called humans lower, but if that was the case, then he wouldn’t have grown up with a smart and kind mother, one who knew a lot about the world.
One who never seemed inferior to him, not even for one moment.
He needed to be fast now – the other drakes were coming at midnight to herd all the humans away to their new homes. Maybe to dispatch the last of the guards still patrolling. Many humans would be too confused and scared to move, too uncomprehending to realize they no longer needed to live the way they did. They needed rather firm encouragement, and sometimes just some rough handling, like he’d done with Anya.
Encountering the owner and his wyrm wife ended in another two quick deaths. The wyrm, who had been eating and talking with his wife, managed to stand up and exclaim, “What the devil are you doing here?” just before Kalgrin made the fast, lashing strike towards the soft fool’s plump body. His wife screamed hysterically, before attempting to transform. Kalgrin caught her just as her neck began to elongate and scale. That didn’t feel good, but he couldn’t risk survivors.
You needed the stomach to go through with these things. Not a tender heart.
Have to remember. History will look kindly upon me. I hope.
He hunted around the house for any extras, and found some house servants trembling in their beds. He informed them that their masters were dead, and never again did they need to live in fear of being beaten. As usual on these types of missions, blank incomprehension lingered on the servants’ faces. So battered, so trodden down as they were, they simply didn’t believe him. Maybe even thought this was some cruel test to figure out where their loyalties lay.
Well, they’d find out soon enough.
He scoured the rest of the mansion, making sure no other wyrms lived. He clutched the diamond blade hard, heart beating in a fast rhythm. Then he went back outside to keep both an eye above and across the gardens. One more wyrm made his way back to the mansion. One more fallen.
May as well make his way through the village, see if any other beasts lived.
Not so many, he thought, taking out the four sentries, two on either side of the village, with embarrassing ease.
No more wyrms. No… wait.
A huge, wingless form emerged out of the darkness, growling. Kalgrin hissed and transformed as well, rearing onto his hind legs. The wyrm towered above him, thicker, bigger.
“Intruder! Traitor!” the wyrm spat. “Guards! Wyrms! Get over here!”
Kalgrin lunged towards him, using his wings for extra force. He crashed into the bellowing dragon, snapping, clawing, using surprise and speed to try and overwhelm the wyrm’s defenses.
He received a few scratches along his scales, but managed to secure a tight grip on the wyrm’s longer neck, a wyrm’s fundamental weakness when it came to fighting drakes with their wide jaws. Kalgrin bit down, crushing things. And the wyrm collapsed.
Kalgrin spat out globules of red, checking for any other wyrms. There were none.
Thank skies for that. All it took was one mistake on his part to end the whole thing.
Come on, Leoch. Fly your stubborn ass over here.
Surely it must be midnight by now…
A few minutes later, dark shapes converged in the sky, descending to the ground below. Kalgrin went to greet Leoch by the right side of the mansion, who gave him an elaborate bow, eyes grim.
“Was it hard for you, Kal?” Leoch watched with Kalgrin as the drakes wandered along the human village, spreading the news. At first, the humans were sluggish on the uptake. Most, like Anya, had never seen drakes, so having these winged beings waddling amongst their homes made them gape in amazement. More of the humans came out of their huts, staring at the winged drakes and witnessing the dead wyrms for themselves. Letting it sink in that they’d been rescued.
Kalgrin doubted many would cheer. A lifetime of soul crushing did that to a person. He chewed his bottom lip, considering Leoch’s question. Hard? Not really. Nerve-wracking? Yes.
“Easier than the last one. The lord there insisted on the kill order for his serfs when the alarm was raised. If he couldn’t have them, neither could we.” Kalgrin only managed to save half the humans. He wondered sometimes if the dead ones were better off in the ground, rather than living in a wyrm regime.
“Tragedy,” Leoch murmured, shaking his head. “Did you rehome the girl you saved yet?”
“No. Not yet. It’s not been that long.” Kalgrin didn’t want to admit he intended to keep her if possible. “She wanted to know if her family were alright. She overheard the wyrms threatening to kill her grandfather if they didn’t give up her location, so I’m not looking forward to giving her bad news. You know what these bastards are like. I wouldn’t mind giving some good news for once.”
“Yeah, I do know what they’re like,” Leoch nodded, before patting Kalgrin on the back. “That’s good of you, Kal. You go check on the girl’s family. We’ll take care of the rest.”
Kalgrin thanked Leoch, slowly walking through the village, heart heavy. He checked through every rescued human, staring with filthy faces, their new situations slowly dawning upon their minds.
He mentally prepared himself for the worst. He knew how to shut himself off, to be cold and cruel, and forget that other people existed, that others had lives. Even with the wyrms. No room for weakness here. Not whilst he needed to send a message to the political establishments of their country. Not as long as humans got treated as beasts, killed without mercy, hunted for sport and whipped for work. Not as long as they continued to ignore the growing murmurs of dissent, and tip the balance of power further.
Not as long as Kalgrin’s own people got treated as barely worth the effort.
No. Things needed to change. Being passive did nothing. Using reason got ignored. Only action, blood, and fear worked for these creatures.
Nothing else.
Chapter Four
Walking through the streets of Tarn felt off to Anya. She still couldn’t get used to the fact that she could actually do so, and people didn’t intend to throw her in a jail cell, or flog her for roaming past her boundaries. No plantations existed for miles. No serfs picked their way through wheat fields and lay crippled on their mats at night. People slept in houses. Thatch and wood and stone.
She saw humans and drakes chatting to one another, laughing, smiling. She saw humans running bars and drakes selling wares to humans. She even saw a drake selling flights to humans to other towns and cities, or doing it just for the joy of flying around. Selling flights? What a novel concept.
Everything struck her as bizarre and surreal. How was it all even possible? How could she walk down these cobbled lanes, dressed like a woman, without a layer of mud over her face, hair allowed to tumble to just above her shoulders?
Not only that, but people smiled, and waved, and didn’t look as though they were about to collapse or starve to death. It pretty much felt like being dumped on an alien planet.
The freedom didn’t sit right with Anya. Perhaps she was like one of those kittens she once rescued from drowning. Some lout decided to keep three kittens stuck in a tiny cage. He didn’t want them roaming away, and they lay there in their own wastes, mewling, until eventually, they gave up and just crouched listlessly.
Anya snuck into his hut one night and opened the cage
, and the kittens still sat there in their cage, unmoving. They didn’t seem to comprehend they’d been freed, or perhaps they’d forgotten what it felt like.
Anya didn’t even know what freedom felt like. It took some coaxing for those weak kittens to stagger out. Two of them ran into the wilderness. One stayed within the village, and visited Anya for years afterwards, until one day it disappeared. She still thought of that kitten with some fondness.
I am like it. My cage is open, but I still don’t understand that I’m free. I still don’t comprehend that my life will never be the same again.
She wished desperately in this moment that she could share the newfound freedom with her family, whose fate still remained unknown. As did Kalgrin’s. He said he’d be back by early morning, but she woke up to an empty house.
Gods, if she lost Kalgrin as well…
No, don’t go there. You know nothing yet. It might be taking him a while to fly back.
She quelled the anxiety in her heart as best as she was able. Just because she could, Anya wandered into a shop selling beverages, and three women and two men greeted her.
“Hey! Come over here, new girl. Let me introduce you to the rest of the crew.”
Anya smiled at the speaker, Seon. She looked around twenty or so years in age, in the perfect picture of health, smiling with fabulous white teeth. It made Anya more self-conscious of her own yellow teeth, and she licked her tongue nervously over them. She intended to find some kind of whitener to help her smile become glossier. Kalgrin had rather obviously shoved Anya in Seon’s direction, so the barmaid was in a position to watch over her. The babysitting embarrassed Anya a little, but secretly, she appreciated it as well. She needed the guidance. Still hadn’t gotten used to life in the town. Didn’t know if she would. Kalgrin intended her to adapt to it, of course. He wanted her to learn to settle down and not keep looking over her shoulder for death to descend.
Maybe she even could settle down in time. Maybe she’d learn to fit in, and not act like a twitchy slave. Not whilst she kept worrying about her family, though. Kendra left a hole in Anya’s heart. Along with her four siblings, and her near toothless grandpa.
