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by Hannah Parker


  “Are you nuts?!” a familiar voice called out at my back.

  It was Kiyne, one of the Dragon Welders. He had been creating armour for dragons and their riders for some time, forming every inch of plate mail and iron to fit with perfection. Some would call him a smithy but, he had earned the more glamourous title because he took more focus in intricate work over the necessities of common life. He worked only for Arcanon and their mounts.

  “We’ve gotta get somewhere safe!” he said.

  “What about the village? The people!” I argued.

  “They’ll be fine, we need to go!” he persisted, pulling me back toward the mountain.

  “No!” I cried out, trying to pull away. “It’s on fire too!”

  “I know,” Kiyne sighed. “But, we’ve gotta help them too!”

  Chapter Four

  I struggled against Kiyne’s grip as he hauled me back up the mountain, his rough hand clasped around my arm like a shackle; tight enough to hold but, not tight enough to hurt me.

  “Dragons can fend for themselves,” I hissed.

  “Not chained up or caged they can’t,” he snapped back. “If you wanna help the village or get some kind of revenge, we’ve gotta make it through the night, okay?”

  I didn’t like his tone, but his words rung through my ears like howling winds; he was right. We were of no help to anyone dead. If we wanted to avenge our people, we had to live.

  We pushed through the narrow shrubs and carefully navigated narrow ledges that lead around the mountain pass. We couldn’t risk the path, or the main gate, we’d be seen for certain, and then what? We’d be dead, or worse.

  Kiyne had finally let go of my arm, both of us realizing we couldn’t navigate the sorry excuse for a passageway side by side. I’d calmed down, following his footsteps with caution. He led the way to a strange opening, a cave mouth where a small stream trickled out and over the ledge.

  “In here,” Kiyne whispered, motioning toward the darkness before us.

  “What is this place?” I asked quietly, following his lead.

  “It’s an old supply route, from back when the Dens were a castle.”

  “That was centuries ago.”

  “I know. Some of the passages never got sealed up. Once the mountain broke away during the wars, they were just kind of forgotten.”

  The dampness enveloped us as we walked deeper and deeper into the cave. I followed his voice and footsteps as best I could, all the while frowning over my now water-logged boots.

  “Shh,” Kiyne hushed, motioning me forward as a small patch of light filtered in ahead.

  I pressed myself against his back, leaning over to peer outside, and feeling his warmth nearly overwhelm me. I could see the Dens, many of their cage doors open or broken, and the rush of Elves, trying to gather the younglings in a hurry.

  “Mara,” I whispered, watching as she fired another arrow at one of the armored men on the stone ridges above. Her shot was remarkable, striking the man at the gap between his armour by his arm and chest. He fell to the ground with a thud; one less threat to worry about.

  “Go. Go. Go!” She shouted, providing cover to those clutching dragon eggs and hatchlings as they fled.

  We darted up the stairs, making sure the coast was clear before we emerged from the shadows to join the fight.

  “Mara!” I cried out, relieved she was still alive.

  Mara ran over, “Where the hell have you been?” she said, her words directed at Kiyne.

  “Stopping fools,” he laughed, looking over his shoulder at me.

  I snorted in defiance.

  “We’ve gotta get the rest of them freed, or they’ll be killed,” Mara commanded.

  “What about the younglings?” Kiyne questioned.

  “They’re all gone, it’s just the new mounts that are left.”

  Once more the sound of hooves filled the air and we turned to see the men enter through the main gates. Mara raises her bow without hesitation but, she pauses, hearing the sound of strings draw at our backs. Kiyne unsheathes the sword on his back, hands coiled tightly around its hilt but, he too stops at the sound of our enemies as their steel sings at being drawn.

  We were surrounded, on all sides, both around us and above. One wrong move and we were all done for.

  I gritted my teeth in frustration; I may not have a weapon but I sure as hell would use my fists if I had to. I could see the impatience on Kiyne’s face, his deep brown eyes flickering against the torch light with rage. Mara, too, stood at the ready; eyes narrowed and her hand still pulling back an arrow. I swore they were both holding their breath as not a single flinch, or twitch, shuddered through their bodies as they waited for movement.

  Slowly, the sound of iron-clad hooves approached us, separating the opposition by his mere presence. I could see the horns above the others as he moved in, noting their size, shape, and wear. He was a large man, bigger than any of the other armoured men that had been chasing us down. Layers of bone meshed into iron that held deep gashes and dents. There was no doubting this man and his reputation. He was a Marauder, a Dragon slayer, and the young Dragon skull he wore as a helmet was more than enough proof of that.

  “The Gem,” he said coldly. His voice was deep, emotionless, and slightly muffled beneath his helm. Despite the open face to his headpiece, I could not make out a face, or even eyes, but I still felt them staring down upon me. Burning into me as he waited for an answer.

  None of us spoke.

  He sighed, moving from his horse, the sound of his iron boots hitting the dirt paining our ears as they clanged. He stepped closer, closing the gap we’d kept between us, and them, to ensure our safety.

  “I won’t ask again. The Gem. Where is it?”

  I took in our surroundings, noting the man’s enormous horse as it padded the ground with its fierce hooves. It was just as armoured as he was, and I swore its eyes had a yellow glow to them. A large hammer was strapped at its side, waiting for its master to return, to unleash its wrath upon us.

  Slowly I could see Mara’s eyes turn toward me, flicking to the last gate just behind us that was stuck half-open. Two Dragons stirred within, their scales glittering in the dim light as they watched us, waiting for the right moment.

  The man paced before us, examining each one of us carefully, waiting for the perfect time to pin us down. One weakness, that’s all he needed, for one of us to break under the pressure of his unrelenting gaze.

  “There’s nothing here for you,” Mara snarled.

  The man turned his attention to her, drawing it from the rest of us. That was my opening, the time to act, and Mara was giving me only a few seconds to react.

  I bolted for the gate, listening as the hail of arrows fell from above. Some managed to hit one another, bouncing off to be deflected elsewhere, while others hit the ground around me, yet I never stopped running. This was our only chance, and I couldn’t blow it.

  I could hear the man retreat to his horse, his steps slow and calculated as if annoyed yet, unsurprised. I turned briefly to see both Mara and Kiyne fending off our attackers, Mara twisting her form below the air, her movements perfectly coordinated to fire off arrows as Kiyne’s blade swung overhead. That moment, that one stupid turn, and I felt a searing pain shoot through my shoulder.

  I slid beneath the half-open gate, fearing not the threat of Dragons at my feet. I had no time to recover, leaning over and kicking the lever at my side, moving it completely into the upward position and restarting the gate.

  Sharp claws and heavy bodies jumped over me, nearly crushing me as I rolled to the side and out of their way. Flames shot from their nostrils as their enormous wings beat against the sky, forcing arrows to fall, and flames to be snuffed out. Their roars ruptured the ground, quaking it beneath my feet as I slowly got up.

  Arrows were once more released, flying down against their massive bodies but were no match for their hardened scales. One swipe from their tails and the Archers on the ridge were flung into the air, rendere
d useless. Kiyne and Mara continued their assault below, carefully moving between Dragon claws, tail swipes, and wing gusts to defend themselves.

  The adrenaline began to fade from me, and I finally looked over to see the arrow deeply embedded in my shoulder. Blood began to stain my cloak, darkening the fabric as I felt myself become dizzy. I tried to maintain my composure, stumbling from the den to rejoin my friends.

  “Alina, no!” a voice called but, my mind was a blur, ears ringing with pain.

  My vision grew hazy but, I was sure I’d seen Mara climb atop one of the beasts, no harness, no saddle, and no bond. She reached down, grabbing Kiyne’s arm and helping him to hop up behind her.

  My legs were jelly as I fumbled around, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Suddenly, I felt the swirl of something closing in around me, blackness enveloping my eyes as I looked down too quickly. I reached out, feeling the scales against my palm as they slid away.

  “Get on,” Mara’s voice cried out, barely audible.

  I try to clutch at something, anything, but my hands find no stability. I could feel my consciousness fading, just as something began to wreathe around my waist.

  I could still hear the arrows, splitting the air at our backs but, they fall short. Were we flying? Were we on Dragons? That wasn’t possible.

  Chapter Five

  The sound of gulls filled the air, carrying with them the scent of saltwater upon the warm breeze. My eyes fluttered, struggling to open beneath the weight of a good, long rest.

  “Hey, she’s awake,” a familiar voice chirped.

  “Ugh, Just hold still a little longer,” yet another, familiar, but deeper, voice muttered.

  I felt an odd sensation against my back, like the constant drip of water, or any overly itchy spot in a sweater you couldn’t resist scratching at. Gradually the sensation became more annoying, and then, more painful.

  “Ow,” I groaned, my face buried deep against a bundle of clothing.

  “Stay still,” the male voice said again, “or I’ll sew up your mouth next.”

  It was Kiyne, and from his words, it sounded like he was sewing up the wound left on me by that archer. I moved my arm out from beneath me, reaching back in an attempt to feel the stitches he was pulling through my flesh.

  “Stop,” Kiyne demanded, swatting my hand away, and tugging on the wound one more time. “There. All done.”

  I winced, feeling the tug back on my skin as he cut the thread. When did he get so good at cleaning and fixing wounds? Tending to injuries, or ailments was something more common to Elves but, I guess with how busy they were with the Arcanon, he’d taken a few notes.

  I sat up, feeling the soreness in my body as I tried to take in our new surroundings. I felt the warmth of the wind on my skin, bringing me to the realization that I was no longer as layered as I’d preferred. I fumbled with the sleeve of my shirt, finding it moved down, likely from where Kiyne had to work and tried to push it back over my shoulder. I felt the sting again as I moved too quickly but I felt too exposed, and my cheeks began to flush in response.

  Kiyne stared at me in confusion as I fussed with my things, desperately searching for my other clothes.

  “Relax,” a strange voice called after me, its tone soft but its sound fierce.

  “Where is my cloak?” I shouted, frazzled.

  “You’re going to reopen that wound,” the voice added.

  “I’m not worried about my wound. Where are my things!?”

  “Who are you talking to?” Kiyne interrupted.

  “You! Weren’t you-” I stood, dumbfounded, reflecting the same look to Kiyne as he did to me. If it wasn’t his voice, then who was it?

  Waves crashed against a rocky shoreline, my eyes slowly but surely taking in the new sights around us as I put on another, larger, shirt. Sun beamed down from clear blue skies; above, birds flapped their wings, gliding along the sea breeze. Where fire had been, there were piles of rock and sand, odd mounds of sand.

  I approached a dune along the shore, its size large and awkward against the cool white shoreline, and much greater than any outcropping as far as the eye could see. As I stretched out my hand, sand rushed against my face, the sound of movement just beyond my grasp. I spit the sand from my mouth and scrubbed my eyes of the grit.

  Before me, a large, black Dragon stood, its wings unfurling and blotting out the light of day like a storm cloud. Deep ruby eyes stared down a pointed snout, and I wondered for a great while whether it was going to eat me, or simply toss me into the sea.

  “Relax,” the voice called out again. “I’m not going to eat you.”

  That voice, that strange, deep, ferocious voice; it was the Dragon’s. But, how was it speaking to me? And how did it know what I was thinking? Kiyne hadn’t heard its voice earlier, only I did. Did that mean-

  “Yes,” I said in a hush, cutting off my train of thought. “We seem to have a connection, you and I.”

  “I thought only Arcanon and their mounts could have a connection?” I said curiously.

  “That’s the rumor,” it replied. “My name is Graven, and I am a Delve Dragon from the North. You, are Alina, a Human Mortal from the East, and you carry a great burden with you.”

  He motioned forward, pointing a large talon and pointing at my pocket.

  I blinked for a moment before my brain jostled, “the gem!”

  “Precisely,” he replied. “Those Marauders were after just that, believing, beyond all else, it can give them the victory they seek.”

  I placed my hand in my pocket, pulling the gem out and rolling it into my palm once more. What could this little rock possibly do that would gain them victory?

  Graven purred in response to my thoughts, “stories are told, even in my kind, about the command that gem holds over the beasts of this world. If it were to fall into the hands of men like them, we would all be doomed to a terrible fate.”

  Chapter Six

  I’d taken a seat along the shore, perching myself on a small rock, listening to Graven tell me tales of his homeland, and the journeys he’d taken before arriving at the Dens.

  “My home is the Lasting Lands; a place where mountains reach higher than clouds, and caves dig deep into blackness beyond which Dwarves can see. I came here, on behalf of the Ethereal when aid was needed long ago, and my kind would answer.”

  “So why didn’t you return?” I asked curiously.

  “My aid is still needed it seems,” Graven replied. “I took up aid in the North lands, where I would now hail from but, what was done must now be undone and so I remain.”

  I didn’t know what that meant, and it didn’t seem like Graven would answer even if I asked so I pondered over it for a bit. What was done must be undone... what did that even mean?

  Mara emerged from the woods; a few hares tied to her belt. Behind her, Kiyne followed, a pile of firewood in his arms.

  “Feeling better?” Mara asked, dropping the hares from her belt on a flat rock, and placing her quiver and bow close beside.

  I turned on my small seat, rising up with a smile as I made my way over, “need a hand?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said with a laugh, “but I’ve got this. Kiyne could use a hand with the fire though.” She winked at me, beginning to tend to her catch, our obvious dinner for the evening.

  I hadn’t realized how late in the day it had gotten. I’d really just been sitting and listening to Dragon stories all afternoon while my friends worked. I felt like a mooch.

  Kiyne was already piling wood, his hands grasping a hatchet as he split large logs with minor effort. He seemed to have gathered quite a bit, enough that he had removed his upper layers to move more freely, and likely stop sweating so much. I felt my cheeks flush as I approached, trying to keep my head down so he wouldn’t see.

  “Mara said you could use a hand,” I stuttered out.

  He paused for a moment, turning to face me, “yeah,” he smiled. His chest heaved beneath deep breaths, “I’ve got some small
tinder there with some stones. Could you build the fire?”

  I nodded quickly, fighting to keep my eyes on the ground but catching myself glancing up now and again. He wasn’t much older than I was, maybe a year or two, and I knew him well enough from when I came to the village ten years ago. He was nice to me, much kinder than the others who only saw me as a strange outsider. He never accused me of burning down my village or getting everyone killed, and he was the only one to take time out of his own chores to teach me about fishing, roping, and Dragons.

  As we grew up, I quickly began to realize why I was being scowled at more and more. Girls fawned over Kiyne, nearly climbing over one another just for a chance to see him chopping logs, or working with Bryden at the forge. I’d never realized how close we were, and it was that, which made the other girls jealous. He wouldn’t like short hair or a boyish figure, what was I doing hanging out with him they teased.

  We snuck out one night, a few years back. We wanted to catch torch bugs near the lake, and of course, we’d forgotten a lantern. I slipped in through the reeds while chasing one down, soaking myself from head to toe. He pulled me out, lifting me with one arm and barely using any strength. It was late in the fall, and the water had gotten cold fast. I shivered in my wet clothes but he didn’t even pause, removing his cloak and wrapping it around me for warmth. He pulled me in close, his arms running up and down my own as he tried to warm me on our way back home. We paused outside my hut, and I always think back on what I’d do again if it were to happen all over.

  I was so stupid, so lost in my own little world I didn’t even think to notice how he looked at me, taking a moment to linger before I said goodnight and hurried in. I was so cold, and wet, and I didn’t even stop to think about giving him his own cloak back, or inviting him in, or even giving him a kiss.

  Such a dumb girl.

  I fumbled along, putting pieces of tinder together in a small mound to allow airflow. I’d placed some stones in a small circle to keep the fire contained, having done my best in finding a patch of grass that wasn’t too dry.

 

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