Legend's Awakening

by Jensine Odom

  “What’ll it be?” Cookie asks unenthusiastically when I reach her.

  “Beef stew,” I answer, taking the steaming bowl when she hands it to me. “Thanks, Cookie, you’re the best,” I add, eliciting a smile from her.

  “Thanks, Cookie, you’re the best,” my brothers and Mary chime in.

  “Thanks, Cookie, you’re the best,” comes the rousing chorus from the dinner line.

  I fish a small diamond necklace from my pocket that I found earlier today and hand it to Cookie. For being a butch, ex-lunch lady, she sure loves dainty jewelry. Beaming now, she sticks the necklace in her own pocket and serves everyone else a little more happily, getting random donations from some of the other patrons who paid attention.

  Carl excuses himself after we’re all done eating, bidding us goodnight and wobbling as he makes his way down the hall for his room. Zebulon and Tristin have started an arm-wrestling competition, attracting other brawny men and more than a few strong women, and Mary sets up a tournament, keeping track of the bracket. The prize, as always, is bragging rights; no one has been able to beat Tristin.

  “I need to go talk to a man about a horse,” I lean in to tell Mary, making sure she hears me over the ruckus the crowd’s making.

  “Okay,” she replies absently, marking the board with the current winner.

  “I’ll just leave this at your feet.” I scoot my bag farther under the table and walk for the bar, where Steve’s cleaning a few glasses.

  Turhion and Kerric are fully enraptured by the commotion, but Caedryn notices my departure and accompanies me, easily sliding onto the tall stool beside me while I have to hop a bit to get my big butt on it. Steve looks up, blue eyes sparkling kindly behind bushy gray eyebrows, a smile beaming behind his scraggly gray beard.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asks.

  “I’ll pass, thanks.” I give Caedryn a questioning look.

  “No, thank you,” he says, his slight accent surprising Steve.

  “You sure you’re not one of them dragon hunters? I hear they sound like you, and dress like you.” Steve gives Caedryn his best fatherly glare.

  “My companions and I aren’t hunters,” Caedryn answers evenly, surprising me. “We try to understand the dragons.” He gives me a disarming smile.

  “That so?” Steve asks, now curious.

  “Take the Beasts, for example; they’re aggressive, but stupid, and easily annoyed. If you can, surround them, and keep them confused. They get angry, and most of the time will leave, looking elsewhere for an easier meal,” Caedryn explains, impressing Steve.

  “Good to know. I think I’ll make sure that info gets out to others, too. It’ll save lives.” Steve nods his thanks.

  “So, tell me more about these dragon hunters,” I say, pulling the topic back on track.

  “Yes, well, all I’ve heard is hearsay from the travellers, but this is what carries across all the stories. They dress much like your companion here, and have the same odd accent, not quite British. They take jobs eradicating dragons, but only the Beasts, and word is they’re coming this way, intrigued by you, Xerxia.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Just two, a brother and sister, but I hear there are many more spread across the country.”

  “Any names, or how they look?”

  “No names, most of these folks are too scared to approach people like them, but I hear they’re fairly fearsome looking; wild hair and scars all over, and the brother’s got a blind eye. Also, he’s said to be huge, taller even then him.” Steve gestures to Caedryn.

  “Anyone you know?” I ask Caedryn, and he shakes his head, brows furrowing.

  “Baldure and Alivia,” Turhion answers, making his way over. “I have heard of them. They’re some of the best, dragon hunters, Drustana has. We shouldn’t tarry here very long, if it’s you they seek, Xerxia.”

  “You’ll be leaving us for sure then?” Steve asks, a little sad.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. “After we get supplies from the Trader.”

  “He should be in tomorrow,” Steve adds. “Where’ll you be heading, if I may ask?”

  “I’m not sure, yet. I just know we have to go.”

  “And there’s no changing your mind?” Steve asks, hopeful.

  “No.” I smile kindly at him. “This valley’s just about tapped out for supplies, and you know how I’ve always said the Beauties are looking for something? Well, I found it.”

  “It’s you, isn’t it?” he asks, but it’s more of a statement; he’s not dumb, and he’s put the puzzle together.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I confess, a weird thrill shooting through me at the admission, like it wasn’t really real until just now.

  “Well, we’ll enjoy your company for as long as you’re here and miss you sorely when you’re gone.” He smiles, unshed tears glittering in his eyes as he squeezes my hand.

  “Ah, I’ll miss you, too, Steve. I’ll miss all of this.” I wipe the few tears away that fell down my cheeks.

  The tender moment is interrupted suddenly by loud voices, not raised in excitement, but anger. I turn to see a man, roughly twice Tristin’s size, throw a punch for his face. With a chuff I roll my eyes, and Caedryn looks inquisitively at me.

  “Welcome to the family.” I shrug, watching as the man throws another sloppy punch.

  My brother dodges again, giving a cocky laugh, then another man grabs him from behind, holding him while the first man punches yet again. Tristin ducks just before impact, letting the guy behind him take the hit, and as he stumbles back, Zebulon sticks a foot out, sending him to the floor.

  The first man roars angrily, joined now by two more people, and I step in before this turns into an all-out brawl.

  “That’s enough,” I bellow, walking into the crowd, standing between the angry opponent and my brothers.

  Knowing who I am, most of the people quiet down immediately, including the man’s backup. Everyone backs away and returns to their own tables once more, but the man stays put, glaring defiantly at me.

  “Move, woman,” he orders, the disrespectful tone in his voice setting my blood on fire.

  “I don’t think I will,” I say, the regret more sarcastic, and the burly man takes a threatening step forward. “Come on, man. Is it really worth having your ass kicked by a girl?”

  In response, and without warning, he punches me right in the face, his pinky ring cutting my cheek and the force behind the blow splitting my lip. I wave Caedryn off as he comes to my rescue, and face the man, who gives me a smug look, like there’s more where that came from.

  I touch the blood trickling from my lips and cheek, and smile at him.

  “The bitch likes it rough,” he calls humorously, but nobody’s laughing.

  “Wrong.” I kick him in the balls then the knee, bringing him down to my level, and finish him off by smashing his face in my knee as he falls, leaving him bloody and unconscious on the floor in the blink of an eye.

  His pals retrieve his body with profuse apologies, dragging him off to a corner table where they prop him up.

  “Are you all right?” Caedryn asks, gently touching my cheek, careful of my wound.

  “Yeah.” I half smile at him, my offended lip fat and numb. “I’ve been in worse scrapes than that, and came out looking worse than this.” I take a rag from Steve and blot my injuries, looking to the man as he begins to moan. “Let’s get going, though; it’s best we’re not here when he wakes.”

  “I’ve got your bag, Xerxia,” Mary says, grabbing a strap and hauling it to her shoulder. “Jesus! What do you have in here?!”

  “Stuff. And rocks.” I smile sheepishly and Mary rolls her eyes, following Zebulon and Tristin out the door.

  “Night, Xerxia,” Steve says at my back.

  “Goodnight, Steve; Todd,” I call, turning to wave.

  “Goodnight, Xerxia,” Todd replies with a tilt of his head.

  In the Dark of the Night

  THE apartments aren’t more than one hundred fe
et from the main bulk of the Inn, but with my energy quickly fading it seems more like one hundred miles.

  “You’re doing great, Xerxia,” Mary encourages from the front of the group.

  “I don’t think I’m gonna make it,” I whine, dramatically dragging my feet. “Someone carry me.”

  “Uh uh. No way anyone’s carrying your fat ass,” Zebulon teases, and I flip him off, then scream as Caedryn sweeps me off my feet, carrying me the rest of the way to the apartments.

  “How?!” Tristin asks loudly as Caedryn sets me down at the door without so much as a bead of sweat or labored breath.

  “There’s a lot more to the story I told earlier,” I says, breathless, smiling my thanks to Caedryn as I right my clothes. “Actually, the story I told earlier was made up.”

  “I knew it,” Mary yells excitedly. “Two dragons are a little unbelievable.”

  “Then you won’t believe me when I say there was really four?”

  “No way,” Tristin dismisses, but his eyes tell a different story.

  “And what if I told you three of them followed me here?” I smile involuntarily at their unanimous shocked expressions.

  “No,” Zebulon gasps, putting two and two together, and stares at Caedryn, Turhion, and Kerric.

  “Yes,” I match his breathy tone. “I’ll tell you the real story, inside.” I slide the glass door open and walk into the small entry way, which also serves as a mud room. “Let’s get everybody settled first. I call the soft bed.”

  “No fair! It’s our turn in the soft bed,” Zebulon complains.

  “It’s okay, Zebulon,” Mary chides, and he gives in, following her into the apartment on the right. “I’ll go put your backpack in your room, Xerxia.”

  “Thanks! Tristin, take Turhion and Kerric to the double bed room, please. Caedryn, come with me; you can have the futon in the living room. We’ll set it up after we all talk.”

  Tristin leads Turhion and Kerric into the apartment to the left and I grab the extra bedding from the cabinet above the washer for Caedryn’s bed before heading into the opposite apartment.

  “Wait here, I’ll be right back,” I tell Caedryn, setting his blankets down on the back of the futon and heading for my room.

  Zebulon’s leaning in the door frame of his and Mary’s room, watching her make their bed, and flips me off as I walk by. I stick my tongue out and dart into my dark room, tripping over my bag and nearly falling head first into the bedpost.

  I recover and fumble around for a moment to find the light switch, the generic glass globe blinking to life on the ceiling a moment later. Dumping the contents of my bag on the bed, I find my loose sleep shorts and tank top, quickly shucking off my clothes to change, stifling a cry the elastic band of my sports bra snaps against my ribs.

  Stepping into my shorts, I catch a glimpse of myself in the floor-length mirror on the wall and walk closer, examining the dark bruises across the front of my body, the individual scale prints starting to show making me look like a dragon already. Damn, that Beast hit me hard.

  My eyes drift to my sun kissed, heart shaped face, taking in the neat laceration across my round cheek. That’ll leave a scar, but at least it’ll match the one that runs down the length of my slightly upturned nose.

  My small, downturned mouth— usually making me look perpetually pissed— now looks pouty thanks to my swollen lip, but it’ll be fine by morning, if a little sore. Tired lids sit heavy over almond shaped green-gold eyes, and golden-brown curls cascade over my shoulders when I let my hair down, relieving the pressure building in my head.

  I step back and take in the whole package; the soulstone glowing faintly just between my large breasts. Overall, I haven’t changed much; I’ve gotten fitter, but I’ll always be fat. One of my friends once said I’m built like a linebacker, but I prefer Viking. I’m the fat lady that sings when it’s all over.

  A sudden movement in the mirror catches my eye, and I spy Caedryn sitting in the doorway, taking in my appearance as much as I was. He hasn’t noticed I see him yet, and I watch him as he looks at me, desire and fear mixed into one. His eyes meet mine in the reflection, going wide with surprise before darting away.

  “Mary sent me to get you,” he excuses somewhat lamely.

  “I’ll bet she did.” I laugh, shaking my head, and brazenly walk back to the bed, keeping Caedryn’s gaze as he watches me and fighting the urge to dive beneath the covers.

  After carefully pulling on my tank top, I toss the trinkets I found today back in my bag and leave my few sets of clothes out so I remember to clean them before we go. I turn off the light as I leave the room, wonder sparking in Caedryn’s eyes at the magic that is electricity, and we go back down the hall, joining the others.

  Turhion and Kerric are enamored with the torchier lamp in the corner, twisting the knob back and forth to dim and brighten it. My brothers laugh when they accidentally turn it off, and Zebulon clicks it back on.

  “Alright, story time.” I clap, getting everyone’s attention, and sit on the futon, sinking into its softness.

  Caedryn sits beside me and I lean against him, more or less voluntarily. There’s just something about him. Like my soul knows him from a different time and place. His arm flexes, like he wants to wrap it around my shoulders, but he’s resisting for some reason. Maybe it’s the raised eyebrows and inquisitive looks we’re getting from my family.

  Zebulon sits beside Mary on the small loveseat, pulling her into his arms the way I wish Caedryn would hold me. Tristin sits in the large recliner, kicking it all the way back. Turhion sits on the futon nearest the light, and Kerric takes the smaller, rocking recliner. Tristin unhelpfully pulls the handle, flinging the footrest out and startling Kerric, sending Tristin into a fit of laughter.

  Kerric eventually figures out how to work the chair, and Tristin stops laughing as hard.

  “Are you quite done with your fun?” I ask in a playfully snippy tone.

  “Yeah,” Tristin answers, still giggling a little. “Go ahead. Tell us what really happened,” he mocks me.

  “You should be more respectful of your sister,” Turhion says a little heated, the blue eyes of his dragon flashing for an instant.

  “What?!” Zebulon sits up, nearly dumping Mary on the floor.

  “That really happened,” I quip. “I really did run into a Beast, and it did nearly kill me after I shot its eye, but Caedryn and Alarr saved me.”

  “Wait, who’s Alarr?” Mary asks.

  “Oh, I forgot! He’s my draquus. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow.”

  “What’s a draquus? And how is it yours?” Tristin asks this time.

  “A draquus is a dragon-horse creature, and as for how he’s mine, well, I’m getting to that part. So, as I was saying. Caedryn and Alarr saved me from the Beast.

  “That’s when things got interesting. Caedryn told me I possess the soul of a long-lost Royal dragon; that I’m the only one left, and that I have to unite dragonkind to save the earth from Drustana, the pretender to my throne.”

  “Nope,” Zebulon interrupts. “I call bullshit!”

  “Is this bullshit?!” I ask, impulsively pulling the soulstone off my neck and tossing it at him.

  He catches it, looking unamused until it glows brighter, his skin hissing as it burns him, and he throws it back like a hot potato, scowling at the small burn spot in his palm.

  “I didn’t think so.” I toss the silver chain over my head, letting the stone rest against my chest again. “That’s what Caedryn used to awaken the soul within me, only it didn’t burn me. Sorry about that. Anyways, while he was explaining all this to me, Turhion and Kerric attacked us.”

  “They attacked you?!” Tristin asks, sitting up and giving them both a cold blue stare, not caring in the slightest that they may or may not be dragons.

  “It’s not what you think. Drustana corrupted their minds, but I released them with my apparent magic. Hence why they’re joining us. So, that was my day, how was yours?” My question throws Ze
bulon and Tristin off, and they stare, dumbfounded.

  “We found food, and lots of it,” Mary starts helpfully while my brothers still process what I just said.

  “We saw Jake, too,” Tristin says, coming out of his stupor. “Him and his family are leaving with the rest of their neighbors. All the houses are abandoned now, and we can go take what we need.”

  “Good. We’ll go hit up their old neighborhood tomorrow,” I say, yawning wide. “Right now, though, we all need to go to bed; we have an early day tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight,” Tristin says, playfully throwing the recliner back and rolling on his side.

  “No, you have to go to your own bed. You’re in the way here,” I speak to him like he’s a child.

  Tristin snores dramatically loud, and I go to the small kitchen, filling a cup halfway with cold water.

  “I’m warning you,” I say, and tip the glass. He continues his charade, and I drop a little water on his neck, making him scream.

  “Okay,” he laughs, and gets up, pushing his recliner back against the wall to make room for the futon.

  “Thank you,” I quip, and toss the rest of the water down my throat.

  Kerric gets out if his chair, pushing it back as well, but confused as to why until Mary helps me unfold the futon, the metal frame creaking.

  “What kind of magic is this?” Kerric asks, stepping closer to experimentally poke the mattress.

  “Not magic, just simple engineering,” Zebulon answers.

  “One could argue they’re one and the same,” I add, giving him a wry smile as I toss the extra blankets on the bed.

  Zebulon mocks me with a bunch of high pitched, incoherent noises, then flips me off.

  “That’s enough,” Mary chides, grabbing Zebulon’s hand and pulling him away. “Time for bed. Goodnight, everyone.”

  “Goodnight,” Tristin replies first, and gestures for Turhion and Kerric to leave with him.

  “Goodnight,” I say to everybody as they disperse, leaving just me and Caedryn. “There you go. All ready!” I wave my hands at the sloppily made bed. “Oh wait! You need pillows. Come on, you can have some of mine.”