by LJ Davies
Even more dreadful? If she really knew why I didn't come back... I felt my heart begin to ache as I thought about the truth.
"We all saw what happened, and still I waited. I thought you’d keep your promise," she hissed, stepping up close to me, rain whirling furiously about us as her eyes quivered.
I shied away, battling the urge to cower under my wings as she pressed harder.
"I spent all that time knowing you were alive, so why didn’t you just come back?"
I–I want to tell her, but...
"I can't tell you," was all I managed to mutter.
"Why not?" she demanded, but I merely edged back into the rain.
"You wouldn't understand," I replied, not daring to glance back as the freezing deluge graced my scales once more.
"I would try to, if you'd just tell me!" she insisted.
My wings fidgeted restlessly, the urge to fly away stronger than ever.
"The last I recalled, you were keeping just as many secrets from me," I countered, the bitter part of my mind doing its best to uphold the conversation.
"What do you mean?" she replied, suddenly taken aback.
"You said the Elders have a plan? No one's seen fit to share that information with me so far," I pressed, though I had no real desire to know.
What is it really? Do I just want to prove that we're both just as bad as each other?
Her wings dropped slightly as words caught in her throat. She didn't need to say anything for both of us to know that she was just as reluctant to speak to me about that topic as I was to tell her the truth.
"Risha, I'm not the dragon you think I am, what anyone thinks I am," I uttered shamefully.
She looked pained and my heart ached even more, eyes quivering as they met hers and she added.
"I’ve always thought you were just a good, honest dragon."
I opened my muzzle to respond, to tell her there was still some good left in me, but I couldn't lie to her.
She always sees through my lies.
"You're right about one thing though; you really have changed," she admitted, her wings drooping like wet curtains.
She bolted without another word, disappearing back into the cave before I could stop her. My head dropped, as did my wings and tail, sinking to the rock as if to melt into just another puddle.
"She still thinks the world of you, you know?" a new voice broke the silence.
Boltock appeared on a ledge above, shaking rain from his scales like a wet dog as I straightened myself. It wasn't hard to surmise he'd noticed his sister’s feelings for me long before I had.
"That's what I'm afraid of," I answered meekly.
"You're afraid of my sister? And here’s me thinking I was the only one," he responded, a hint of laughter accompanying his humorous tone as he hopped down next to me.
I glanced back, his light-hearted attitude the only positive thing I'd heard in ages.
"I just don't want to hurt her... I don't want to hurt any of you ever again," I admitted, my voice hardly greater than a whimper as I caught a glimpse of his scarred wing. "Sometimes, I think it's a mistake we ever met."
I hoped, above all else, that I didn't truly believe that, and yet I wasn't afraid to accept it, if it meant they could all be safe. Even so, Boltock frowned.
"Hey, she's looked after me my whole life. She's the best dragoness I know," he replied sincerely, pausing for a moment. "Well, actually..." his voice trailed off as he glanced at the rainy darkness.
As gratifying as his speech and faith in his sister may have been, I still couldn't bring myself to truly understand why she was risking so much. Whether we loved one another or not, I wasn't the great paragon of goodness she'd once thought I was.
I'm not worthy of all of this emotional suffering.
"I just wish Ember felt the same way about me," Boltock muttered, hope filling his eyes for a fleeting moment.
I couldn't help but smile at the forlorn dragon. Coming upon a strange urge to cheer him up, just as he'd tried to do for me so many times.
"So you're finally admitting you like her?" I asked knowingly.
His relationship with Ember was the one thing I'd noticed, as blatant as it was and with a good deal of Risha’s help, and yet he shook his head.
"Do I really have to? Skies above, if I was able to work out that you and my sister had eyes for each other, I'd be surprised if she and a god haven't noticed I've always liked Ember," he answered casually.
The double revelation silenced my mind in an instant; even the dark whispers fell silent. It was as if Mordrakk couldn't intrude for that brief moment, as embarrassment truly gripped me like a vice. Meanwhile, Boltock gave a light snigger, his melancholy over Ember dissolving.
"How is she?" I asked, curious about the fiery dragoness.
"We haven't spoken much since... Well, you know… But she's fine. She’s pretty much a fully fledged member of the Fire Order now, creators know she was hatched for it," he explained thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the horizon as the first shreds of dawn began to emerge.
"Although I don't doubt she'd still follow you, now you're back. We all would, no matter how angry some of us are trying to appear," he added, glancing in his sister’s direction.
I winced, not so much deterred by his sister's frustration, but by what both he and Ember believed had happened to Pyro.
His death tore us all apart, if they find out about him now, will they still follow me?
I wanted to tell him the truth, as much as I wanted to tell Risha. Worst of all, there was no voice in my mind telling me that it was the right or wrong thing to do.
"Sorry," I admitted softly, corrupted kindness demanding I lie.
"Don't be," Boltock sighed. "After everything I did, she's better off without me," he confessed, shuddering slightly. "Just don't… Don't make Risha go through the same thing – she deserves better after all she's done for me," he added.
The urge to tell him that everything I'd done had been to keep her safe welled inside. However, before the words could find their way out of my muzzle, the tapping of claws interrupted our conversation. We both looked back, half-expecting to see Risha, but Neera approached.
"Good to see someone kept him talking while we were sleeping," the faldron declared, smirking at Boltock.
The green dragon grinned right back, as if it were something to be proud of, while she jokingly waved her feathered tail.
"What are you doing?" I asked, moving back to greet her.
She looked at me with the wry patronisation she profusely radiated, as if I should know.
"I'm going hunting; all these days on the wing haven’t given me much of a chance," she stated, puffing up her chest feathers in stoic emphasis. "Unlike you, some of us have to eat."
"Well, you shouldn't go out there alone. I'll come with you again," Boltock protested, turning her expression to one of trepidation.
"No, no, no!" she blurted suddenly, before stammering. "I’ll be fine... I mean no offence, but boulders don't make for the cleanest kills."
Oh, so she's been on the receiving end of that trick too? I couldn't help but smirk.
The green dragon frowned, as I spoke up.
"How about I come with you?" She looked at me as if that was a challenge.
"Well, I never did see if you were any good at it," she mused, her eyes narrowing and ears falling back.
I glanced back at the cave, then at Boltock.
"You okay with this? We shouldn't be long," I asked.
He looked uncertain for a second, then nodded.
"We have to eat, I suppose," he admitted. "I'll tell them where you went, but just try to be back before Soaren gets too impatient. You know he'll want to get moving again as soon as possible."
I nodded before glancing to Neera, who was already heading eagerly into the forest.
At least hunting's the one thing I'm good at where I don't have to worry about the fate of the world on my shoulders.
*
The
tangled mass of barbed trees and twisted branches sailed by as we both made sure to keep as close to the ground as the gnarled limbs would allow. Our flight ended when we finally found a small clearing crossed by a stream. The moment my paws struck the frosty mud, I was reminded just how much I hated days like this. Even back in the village with Tarwin, hunting in the mist; while sometimes useful, was never my preferred atmosphere. I recalled the ghostly shadows that had once stalked me through such blankets of gloom, the thought increasing my anxiety tenfold.
It doesn’t help that this is possibly the most unnatural forest on the whole continent.
A vast swarm of crooked trees encircled us like a wall of broken fingers and talons. Dead shrubs, withered moss, silky fungi and fallen logs concealed the seemingly endless mass of rotting bark, all draped in a fine layer of snow and ice. Beneath which, a hard floor of frozen mud cracked under our weight.
Even the wind felt wrong as it struggled to find its way through the tangled undergrowth, howling and moaning like a ghost. The vaguely recognisable form of an open path snaked its way through tangled roots and icy puddles. As we moved into the forest, I found it was just as much a maze under my paws as it was from the air. Navigating the contorted patchwork wasn't easy, and eventually I had to revert to leaping over most of the smaller obstacles.
I'd no idea what Neera intended to hunt down here; I could neither hear nor see any animals. I couldn't even smell anything through the damp hue. The only sign that I wasn't in some dark nightmare was the sound of her bounding through bushes as she led the way, traversing the forest floor with considerably more elegance.
I couldn't help feeling slightly ashamed that I was using this as an excuse to get away from the others. Not only that, it also granted me the displeasure of Mordrakk's dark illusion as he silently watched from the shadows.
He should be right at home in this place. He can just do me a favour and stay here.
"Good, now we should be able to find something," Neera announced as we came across another small stream.
As I glanced up, she stopped, her ears pricked while she sniffed the air before diverting her eyes toward a cliff face on our left.
"Although I’ve never hunted in a place this cold, this is too far north for a faldron," she added, ruffling her plumage with a shiver. "Oh, and watch out for the trees, pretty much anything that crawls here will try to eat you."
I felt an urge to peer into the closest bark pillar, while trying not to think about how many of them looked like gruesome faces, contorted into positions of terror or yawning mouths lined with rows of sharp teeth.
Surely she's not come out here just to hunt? Not after how Soaren treats her.
"So what about you, why are you still here?" I asked, trying not to make the question sound too intrusive.
"Well, there wasn't much reason for me to go back, that's for sure. That, and the orkin declared all-out war on everything north of Dardien," she responded.
As daunting as her words were, and as inspiring as her determination was, I still couldn't bring myself to understand why she was still risking so much.
"You know, for the first time since I left home, I actually wished there were more faldrons around. I mean, dragons and griffins are fine, it’s just…" She smiled, and my head cocked at the mention of the composite creatures, not that she seemed to notice my curiosity as she continued.
"It's the same with all of them. Oh, she’s an elemental thief, a feathered fiend, don't leave her unwatched. I mean, come on! What is the worst I'm going to do, steal some dragon's fire while they're not looking? Because I'm pretty sure that’s not how it works," she joked, mocking the pompous voices of her accusers.
"You're none of those things, and besides, a lot of them don't even deserve dragonfire," I assured, my own bitterness regarding Dardien's betrayal bristling.
She laughed, ruffling her damp wings.
"Maybe, but I'd like to see any of those scaly-hide leatherwings or stuck up long-beaks catch a decent meal. The best they can do is still wriggling on the way down," she boasted, puffing up her feathers.
I gave a slight laugh, recalling that as a hatchling, I'd tasted my fair share of living critters.
Nowadays all that memory does is make me feel nauseous. I thought with a mock gag.
"I bet I could catch a better dinner than that," I teased.
She smirked, straightened up, flared her feathered crest and twitched her ears.
"Is that still part of the challenge? Because it looks like both of us are going back with nothing at this rate," she commented.
"Depends," I replied, waving a forepaw.
"On what?"
"On whether or not you want me to steal your job again," I added, and she snorted.
"Well, they didn't call me ‘the Wyrm’ for nothing," she retorted, flexing a foreclaw.
"Apparently I’m a demon," I added, shaking my head, the two of us sharing another laugh as we prowled along the stream.
"Don't get me started on demons. The bad, hissing black-winged kind, I mean," she commented, as if she feared to speak of the vile creatures. "All my life I thought I knew about fighting the orkin, but those things…" she paused, as if even the memory of vulpomancers sapped her soul. "They're something else."
As I watched, I thought to say something, but moments later her head shot up and her ears stood tall.
"You hear that?" she gasped quietly, but without giving me any opportunity to answer, she bolted forward.
It took me a moment to realise she was gone, and I called after her as my mind began to race with panic.
"Hey, you should probably come and look at this!" she yelled back.
My brief anguish subsided as I saw her crimson head rise from the snowy undergrowth, and I moved over to see she'd stopped next to a small log.
"Can't say its orkin, you make anything of it?" she asked as I peered over.
Ice partially covered a pool of rusty, red-looking water. However, the faldron's eyes focused on the muddy bank, where the snow covering had been disturbed. Pressed into the moist sediment beneath was a vaguely visible footprint, frozen in place when frost had reclaimed the area. Instinct told me it could be no more than a day old – years’ worth of hunting and tracking skills resurfaced as I brushed my forepaw over the hardened dirt.
It's got no claws or talons, so not a griffin or a dragon. Plus, it's not large enough for an orkin. I assessed.
A smaller one – a runt or goblin, perhaps? I considered, but I knew they had rattier, more disfigured feet, leaving only one candidate: human.
It certainly looked as if it had come from a boot, and if I was correct, the orkin weren't the only things out there. The idea triggered memories of Tarwin and how some of her tribe attacked me the last time we'd met. Recalling what had become of Risha's home only reinforced my growing cautiousness too.
"They're definitely tracks. Human tracks," I warned, and Neera looked slightly crestfallen at not recognising that sooner.
"Humans?" she asked sceptically, before glancing into the thick mist.
Meanwhile, I scoured further along the bank, coming upon something else. Pressed against the base of the log, almost completely covered by snow, was a belt and satchel complete with a canteen. Pulling the leather attire free brought back a warm flicker of nostalgia as I turned it over in my forepaws, carefully noting the details of the metal band and scribbles etched into its side.
It's definitely human.
"What are you doing?" Neera asked as I placed the belt over my neck.
Although just a reminder of what I'd once been, ultimately, it was useful.
"It's better with us than on the ground – waste not, right?" I responded, and she nodded.
"You know you'll have to clean it first. The water around here's the last thing you want to be drinking," she advised.
"We need to find a clearing and get back to the others," I suggested, unsure of the significance of the human presence. "We can hunt somewhere else later."
<
br /> I didn't doubt that most humans wouldn't hesitate to kill us like animals given the chance, and as reluctant as she seemed to go back with nothing, our findings clearly had her on edge too.
"Just follow the stream until it gets a little wider, we can get out from there," she suggested, before moving ahead.
The chilling gale grew in strength as the trees began to thin, the dawn's blissful light breaking through. It was like a ghostly pyre amidst the mist as it touched the withered trees, casting wicked shadows that shifted in the wind. As we cleared the last of the thickest cover, we moved into a clearing, but what greeted us was far from any normal sight.
I had to stop sharply to avoid falling over the edge of a steep gorge. The roar of a fast-running river thundered from below, while a bank formed from rotting logs and twisted roots partially covered by snow occupied the edge. Opposite was more than simple forest.
I sank to the ground, Neera mirroring my caution, her ears twitching like the wings of a nervous insect. The decaying peaks of a large structure stretched up from the corrupted forest like a great, rotting tree stump. More like a vile extension of the landscape than any building, its base bore several gaping holes between long-dead roots and a shabby, half-fallen log bridge.
I felt the same rage stirring inside me that I'd carried through Valcador. Although this was nothing like the great ice fire foundries, this sick pit of corruption and decay was clearly the work of Shadow Fen sorcery. That notion was confirmed when I looked closer and saw several large, bone-clad orkin squabbling outside one of the yawning entrances. At least three manticores sat upon the structure's spires, all mounted by equally-fearsome riders.
"Skies above! I didn't think orkin could get any viler," Neera observed.
Fortunately, the beasts were oblivious to our presence, and while I watched, something else caught my attention. At another of the structure's decrepit entrances, several brutish orkin were battling with a grey griffin, while others struggled with a larger red dragoness. Chains about their captives’ limbs writhed and twisted like metal snakes, while the same metal masks I'd seen over my friends’ muzzles in Taldran were clamped over the dragonesse’s snout.
