Of Dreams and Dragons

by Karpov Kinrade

  Bix eats his body weight and drinks twice that, and dances with the largest woman I've ever seen, and we help the butcher properly store the pig's meat that must be used before it goes bad.

  I sip at my drink and wander about, lost in my own thoughts. This world is so unlike my own. Different in every way you can imagine. But at the core, we all want love, happiness, connection, and moments of unfiltered joy. We all want to live in a just world of fairness and truth.

  Well, most of us do.

  And then there are people like Sylus. Like Pike. Who see other people not as equals, but as things to be used for their own pleasure and needs. When will it change? Can it change? I do not know, and I don’t think I will ever find out.

  When I realize my cup is empty, I find the open bar and see Landon sitting there, nursing his own mug. My first instinct is to go somewhere else, but then I remember how Landon stood up for Avelyn, and I remember my goal of trying to bring this squad together, so I take a seat next to him and ask for a refill.

  He doesn’t say anything, so I break the silence. "I don't get you," I say, sipping the ale. "One moment you're complaining about being an Ashling and treating the rest of us as if we're beneath you, the next you're standing up to a Shadow for some people you hardly know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I…” he sighs. “I don’t think you’re beneath me. It’s just…” He sighs again. “It’s complicated.”

  “What isn’t?”

  He nods, but doesn’t reply.

  And I decide to share something personal with him first, in hopes that he will open himself to me. “The bones I buried,” I say quietly. “They were my daughter's.”

  He blinks. “I’m sorry.”

  I pat his arm gently. “If you really want to help, how about you distract me, and tell me this complicated thing. We have time… for once.”

  He chews on his bottom lip, then nods, and begins in earnest. "I never liked being a Lord's son," he says, speech slightly slurred from drink. "There were perks, of course. Private lessons from the best tutors, servants tending to my ever need, the best food, wine and clothing. A private stable full of horses, and a beautiful manor to call home. But as I got older, I began to see through the facade of splendor." He glances up at me, to see if I'm still listening.

  I am, and he continues.

  "I saw how the servants were beaten if they ever made mistakes. I saw how their only real choice was to work for my house or starve to death. I saw the mistresses my father took—some willing, some too fearful to say no, and I saw how it affected my mother. How she began to drink more and more. How she became crueler to all those around her, even her children. It corrupted her, broke her. And in her anger, she would beat the servant boy whenever her own children had done wrong. She would make her children watch as the boy's back ran bloody at the flick of a whip."

  I shiver at his tale, and notice how he distances himself from it even now, in his language and the way he tells the story.

  "I began to hate my life. Even the privilege felt like a prison. And I could never change anything. My mother and father were immortal, after all. Unless one of them was murdered, I would never rule our house. The only thing I had… was her. My Meredith."

  When he says her name, his voice breaks, and he pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I knew I would be married off to whoever was most beneficial for my family's alliances. I had resigned myself to a loveless marriage. But the fate's blessed me, or so I thought. The girl my family chose was my soul mate in every way. She was beautiful, of course, but I cared little about that. She had a kind heart, and that was where her true beauty lived. And she was clever and shared my vision for what the future could be, if we ever started our own house. Then we could end the cycle of beatings, abuse, and cruelty that ruled my life.”

  I picture it, the happiness he must have felt being betrothed to someone he actually loved who loved him back, and then I remember the snide comment Sylus made about bedding someone, and I grit my teeth.

  Landon continues. "Then, the fire happened. My mother, in a drunken rage, had set flames to my father's quarters, while he and a lover were inside. She wanted them to burn, not caring for anyone else caught in the building. When I returned to the manor from a day of hunting with friends, I saw it ablaze. It lit up the sky like something unnatural, and turned a cold day hot.

  "I rushed in, saving all I could find. My servant, Arbal, who taught me cards and wisdom and who I considered one of my mentors. The stable boy, Pettin, who always took extra care of my horses. The handmaiden, Mira, who treated my mother and father with such kindness, despite the treatment they gave her. I got them all out in time. Our guards had already saved mother and father first, of course, and it seemed all had been rescued." He pauses, taking another drink, his hand shaking now.

  "But then I heard the scream. Someone was still in the manor. I rushed in again, but before I could reach whoever was still trapped, the roof collapsed on me, and all went dark. I awoke later. The guards had pulled me from the fire, but left the young boy still trapped to die. They didn't even try to save him. All that mattered was the Lord's son was safe." Landon looks at me with swollen red eyes. "He died because of me. Because my name was 'better' than his."

  He's silent for a moment, and the bartender refills both of our drinks before he continues. "It took weeks for me to recover. But even that was too quick for all my injuries. It was a miracle. That's when I learned I'd become a Broken One. The Ashlords came for me, and I had two choices. Disinherit my family name, give up my right to marry, and join the Cliff, or die by their hands." He laughs, but it's empty of mirth. "It seemed no choice at all. And so I'm here. My hope of making a difference stolen from me and the love of my life betrothed to someone else. I shouldn't be so surprised, really. This world has a way of crushing anything good."

  We are both quiet for some time. I always assumed Landon hated the Cliff because it lacked the comforts he was accustomed to, but of course, it wasn’t so simple. Too often we judge people by our own standards and preconceptions and miss the truth of the thing entirely.

  I take another drink. And another.

  And then a quiet voice speaks from behind us. Raven. “Is that when you found your Spirit, Landon,” she asks? “In the fire?” She’s been standing behind us, it seems, listening the whole time.

  I worry Landon will be mad, but instead he nods, lips curling in a half smile.

  "What do you call him?" she asks.

  And then the smile becomes full, his face relaxing for the first time in our conversation, and a golden shimmer appears on his shoulder. It solidifies into a cat… a small golden tiger with black stripes. "I call him Rako, after the boy who died," says Landon, stroking the feline under the chin. The purr is so loud, it draws the attention of others, and then Bix, Zev, Enzo, and Mabel join as at the table, looking at the Rako eagerly. Raven sits down as well, and the little tiger then jumps onto the table and walks around, brushing past me as he explores everyone's drinks.

  Raven holds out her hand, and on it appears a little black bird. A raven, like her, and I wonder if it's a coincidence, or if she had a different name before getting her Spirit.

  "She is Muninn," Raven says. "Like the old stories."

  Rako hisses at the bird, but Muninn seems unimpressed and climbs Raven's arm to perch on her shoulder and preen her feathers, as if she hasn't a care in the world.

  Landon nods. "Thank you for sharing her. And… " He looks down, but then forces his eyes back up to meet Raven's. "I'm sorry. For what I did. It was cruel and unnecessary."

  Raven's face is expressionless, and everyone at the table seems to hold their breath as we wait for her response. Eventually, she blinks and a small smile appears on her usually solemn face. "It's forgiven."

  Mabel speaks up then, her face contrite. "I apologize as well. I let my temper get the better of me, just as my pa always warned me about. I should never have done that."

  "Thank you," Raven says. "Ap
ology accepted."

  A look of relief flickers over Mabel's face, and then she smiles more brightly and holds up her arm. A blue fish appears above it, as if made of water, swirling around her hand. "This is Mako. He's a fierce little beast."

  My eyes widen. "Is he floating in real water?"

  She holds her arm out to me. "Feel it."

  I tentatively reach my hand across the table and touch the fish. He's solid, with the scales you'd expect on any fish, and the water he dances in is wet and cool. He flips his tail and dives around Mabel's arm, defying gravity, and then the bird notices the fish, and the tiger stares at them both and licks his lips. Fortunately, they seem to be keeping their distance from each other.

  All eyes turn to Zev next, who sits beside Mabel.

  He sighs and rolls his eyes, closing the book he was reading while we talked. "I suppose I'll go next. This is Zip." He holds his hand open and a large gray beetle materializes on his palm. It has little pincers on its head, and intricate designs etched onto its exoskeleton. It reminds me of the Scabrial Kaden once spoke of, and I ask Zev if that is the term for his Spirit, and he says it is, for once impressed by my knowledge.

  Enzo is next, and he winks at us before lifting his goblet out of the way and clearing the space before him. I wonder why, until his Spirit appears with a loud thump that shakes the table and spills all of our drinks.

  "By fire, a little warning next time?" Zev says as his beetle sloshes about in spilled ale next to the small elephant on the table. Well, small is a relative term. It takes up a good bit of the table, but for its species it is absolutely mini. It's gray, and completely adorable, and when it raises its tiny trunk and lets out a loud trumpet, causing many to turn and stare at our squad, Enzo beams and scratches his Spirit on the head. "This is Penelope. She's a dear."

  "Just keep her away from Zip," Zev says grumpily.

  Zip, on the other hand, seems just as charmed by Penelope as the rest of us, and buzzes over to her, landing on her back. The elephant doesn't seem to mind, and walks over to the spilled ale, taking some up in its trunk, then spraying it around the table. Zev shrieks and I can't help but laugh.

  My laughing dies out fast though, when all eyes turn to me, and I realize they're expecting me to show my Spirit. I beckon Umi and he appears on my shoulder, his silver scales shining in the moonlight. He is inexplicably sleepy and yawns loudly, before hopping down and mingling with the other Spirits. “His name is Umi,” I say, as he nibbles on Landon’s finger playfully.

  Next, all eyes turn to Bix. He shrugs and says, "Maybe later."

  "Do you wish for guidance to summon your Spirit?” Raven asks practically.

  "No," the big guy admits, his face turning slightly red. "It is just… my people do not believe as others. While all of you came here after tragedy, after being forced out of your homes, I came here of my own will."

  There's a shocked silence as everyone stares. Mabel's mouth drops open. "What do you mean?" she asks.

  "We follow the old ways," he says. "Amongst my people, it is an honor to become Twin Spirit. We are not Broken Ones, we are made whole by our Spirit. It is those without Spirit who are incomplete. At the age of twelve, under a new moon, boys and girls who have been chosen for their bravery are sent into the Dark Forest with no supplies, and only the animal skins they wear on their backs. They are told to return under the light of the full moon, not before. Those who return with Twin Spirits have honored the ancestors. Those who have not try again the next year, and the next, until they too pass our ancestor's test. And then there are those who never return." He pauses, a flash of grief crossing his face before his stoic expression returns. "It took me longer than anyone else in my tribe to become a Twin Spirit. Too long, the village elders said, and my Spirit… it is not an honorable one because of my weakness."

  Landon scoffs. "Your Spirit is a part of you. I see nothing dishonorable about that."

  "I agree," Mabel says. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

  "They're right," I say, amazed that I'm agreeing with Mabel and Landon for once, and Enzo, Zev and Raven all nod their heads as well.

  Bix's face turns more red than ever, and he cups his hands together as if holding a small egg between his palms. "All right, then." He moves one hand away and reveals a tiny little turtle smaller than his fingers. "Meet Gaf the Mighty." Bix looks at the tiny creature adoringly, then pulls something out of his pocket and holds it up to the turtle. "He really likes it if you feed him chestnuts," the big man explains.

  "He's so cute!" I say.

  “He’s adorable,” says Mable, as we all gather closer to admire Gaf.

  Bix looks at us all sheepishly. I've never seen him so insecure. "You think he is… fine?"

  "I think he's wonderful," I say honestly. The others nod as well.

  And finally, Bix smiles. "Gaf the Mighty likes you, Sky of the Knightly clan. He says you may pet him."

  I rub my index finger under the turtle's chin, and he nudges against me and makes a little chirping sound.

  The others beg for a chance to pet Gaf too, and it isn't long before Bix has to pour himself another drink. And another.

  Eventually the bar closes and the party ends, and we make our way through the quiet streets to our rooms. And as we walk, I smile. Because for the first time, I think I may actually be able to find some happiness in this strange new world.

  Twenty-Six

  Wall Of Light

  Our break is short-lived. We head back to the Cliff the next day, after a restful sleep in a very comfortable inn, where we each enjoy private rooms, private baths and beds that feel majestic.

  It's a bitter pill to swallow, returning to training again, but there's a lightness to our group that didn't exist before. The journey home is full of talking, laughing, sharing stories and training tips. Our squad is finally becoming what I'd imagined when I first arrived.

  Family. Of a sort.

  We have some free time when we return, and I use it to study more of the books I've borrowed from the library. Somewhere, someone must have written something that gives me a clue as to Pike's whereabouts. Somewhere there must be information that can help me end his reign of tyranny over people's lives. My research lasts late into the night.

  That proves a mistake, as I am jolted awake pre-dawn by the bellowing voice of Master Vane.

  "Move it," he orders, as my squad-mates wake reluctantly, dressing slowly. It's easier for me. My time in the fire department got me used to waking for midnight calls, dressing and moving fast, so I'm ready first, though Raven is a close second and shows no signs of sleepiness the others exhibit.

  Once again I wonder what kind of life this teen girl has had that this is her norm.

  "What's going on?" Landon asks.

  "I just received word from the Wall," Vane says. "We have a special training opportunity today, but only if you move fast, Ashlings. Dragons wait for no one."

  My heart skips a beat at the word dragons. We're surrounded by their lore, here on the Cliff, and people talk as if they are as real as dogs or cats, but I have yet to see one beyond my own Spirit and Kaden's. And even that was shocking. Dragons! I live in a world where dragons exist. It's electrifying.

  He marches out the door, his wolf at his heel, and we follow him down to the stables. "Think we're going to the Wall then?" Enzo asks. His French accent is always thicker when he's tired or drinking, I've noticed.

  "Seems so."

  He frowns. "But we've hardly any training. Isn't that dangerous?"

  Before I can respond, Vane bellows another order to hurry our asses, speeding past on his giant brown horse, his white wolf howling into the dark morning at his side.

  I nuzzle Moon, running a hand over the black star on her head, the only mark on her sleek white body, and then mount her and guide her toward the trail.

  This isn't a leisurely ride, and my thighs ache as we grow closer to the Wall. A shimmering blue light fills the sky, like shining, iridescent colored glass against the
darkness. Before us there is a stone arch that forms a partial circle creating a break in the Wall. Like a gateway. Glyphs that look like High Dracus line the edge, and at the top is carved a crude drawing of a dragon eye. From the center hangs a large blue-purple gem shaped like the iris of an eye that shoots beams of blue and purple light.

  And in front of the Wall stands a row of people chained to each other by the waist. About two dozen women and men have gathered, and they block our way. But they are not dressed as warriors. More like priests, in long robes of black with purple tippets that hang down like scarves, similar to the stoles of Catholic priests on my world.

  "Why are they blocking us?" I ask no one in particular, but I'm not surprised when Zev answers.

  "They're Wall Worshipers. They believe the Wall of Light wasn't erected to keep dragons contained, but to protect them."

  "Protect them from what?" I'm trying to imagine what's more dangerous than a thunder of dragons.

  His lips curl into a sardonic grin. "From us."

  I raise an eyebrow at that.

  "It's absurd of course. Dragons are inexplicably strong and fast. Without the Wall on our side, they'd destroy humanity in mere weeks. It's highly improbable that whoever built the Wall did so to protea them from us."

  "What do you mean, whoever?" I ask. "I thought Nir created the wall."

  "That's the most popular story, of course," Zev says. "But I don't believe it. Elder Dragons are just a myth invented to appease simple minds." He shakes his head and locks of dark hair fall into his eyes that he brushes away distractedly.

  "So if he didn't create it, who did?"

  He shrugs, and I see others listening to him as well. It seems I'm not the only one curious about the history of this place.

  "No one knows for certain," he says. "The Wall Worshippers believe the story of Nir and the Elder Dragons. Personally, I think the High Dragons banded together to erect the wall. They had great power and many soldiers under their control. Of course, they spent most of their time fighting each other for control of the lands, but I imagine back in ancient times, when the Elder Dragons ruled all the lands, the High Dragons could have banded together to overthrow their gods. With their combined power they could have created the wall. Unfortunately, whatever that power was, it's lost now. There are no High Dragons left after the Rising."