The scene spiraled back into darkness before a flash of light blinded me. Warmth surrounded me, like nothing I had ever experienced. I felt myself lean into it as a voice whispered:
“Dark days are coming, my friend.”
***
I awoke with a start, bolting upright. I regretted it immediately. Drums pounded in my head, and my vision swam. I held my head tightly between my palms, scrunching my eyes shut against the pain.
“She wakes.” A voice greeted me.
I opened my eyes slowly. I gathered that I was still in Fiora’s cave, but as I looked around, there was no sign of the cave’s entrance. A dim blue light emanated from the cave’s ceiling, not unlike it had done back at the safe hold.
The dragon laid against a pile of treasure in the farthest corner, her back facing the cave wall. Her massive tail curled around her body, making a clinking sound as her scales caressed the gold coins around her. There was no sign of the others.
“I was dreaming,” I said groggily, hoping to stall as I gathered my bearings.
“No,” she replied. “Not dreaming. Remembering.”
“Remembering?” I mumbled, more to myself than anything.
“Yes, memories that span across the generations of your ancestors, and more.”
The Awakening, I thought to myself. It had finally come. But —
“The memories, they aren’t all yours.”
I balked. Could she read my mind?
“You talk in your sleep.” Fiora smirked at my concern. “Dark times are ahead, my friend. That memory is not yours.”
“That is how it works, isn’t it? Someone else’s memories, in my head. I thought that was how it worked?”
“Not with those who came before you, no. At any rate that particular memory belongs to someone outside of your bloodline entirely.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, child, that memory was mine.”
Chapter Five
“But how is that even possible?”
“Now that is the question, isn’t it,” Fiora’s lips curled upward, revealing the tips of her spear-like teeth, and I was suddenly reminded who I was speaking to. I got the feeling that she was being mysterious on purpose. That perhaps this was somewhat of a game to her. Like a cat, playing with its food before it eats it. I gulped. I did not want to be her next meal.
“Where are my manners? You must be famished.” If I hadn’t known better, I’d think she had been reading my mind. When was the last time I’d eaten? My stomach rumbled, betraying me.
She opened her great claws, revealing a pile of meat from a beast I couldn’t identify. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Never fear, young one. ‘Tis no beast that you knew. Your travel companion is safe,” Fiora seemed to read my thoughts. “Merely out feeding. The elf is with her to make sure she doesn’t make any…hasty decisions.”
“To keep her from escaping. Stupid girl, you’ve doomed us all,” The Darkness muttered.
Fiora speared the meat with one of her claws and let out a thin stream of flame, effectively roasting it before taking a bite.
“I didn’t know that dragons cooked their food,” I said. Might as well make conversation. I thought to myself. After all, she can’t eat me if she’s talking.
“Ever heard of talking with your mouth full?” The Darkness teased. I ignored it.
The dragon chortled. “Silly child. Who do you think taught the bipeds to heat their meat? Fools were falling left and right from disease before my kind showed up.”
“But I thought the dragons were…” I caught myself before I could say it out loud.
“Go on then,” Fiora raised an eyebrow, goading me on.
“It’s just that… I didn’t think they mingled with other species.”
“Perhaps not anymore. At least, not most of them.” Her emerald eyes were distant, and I could tell that her thoughts had drifted. She spoke of her own kind forlornly, as if they were separate from her. Could it be that she, too, was an outcast?
“So, it’s true then, the story of the Dark breeds? Of how they came to be?”
She made a gurgling sound deep in her throat and her nostrils flared as she puffed smoke out her nose. The smoke formed a pair of rings which floated toward the cave’s ceiling, first linking, and then merging completely before dissipating.
“I suppose,” she crowed, “that it would depend on what story you have heard.”
My destiny hung frozen in the silence. No matter how tame she seemed now, I understood the risks of offending a dragon. I decided the truth was my best shot at surviving…whatever this was.
“The story of Anhedonia.”
“You tell me, half-breed.” She reached out, offering me a piece of meat she’d impaled. I accepted cautiously and was rewarded with the return of the shrieking noise that had immobilized me before. I fought the urge to recoil as my hunger fought the pain that was piercing my skull. Hunger won, and I retreated to the nearest corner with my prize, tearing into it as I waited for the ringing in my ears to subside.
“Do you believe in the tale of the burden you bear?”
“What do you mean?”
“The jewel you wear is no ordinary trinket.”
Without thinking I raised my hand to cover the necklace, protecting it from her. “It was a gift.”
“It is his prison, and it belongs to me.”
“She just wants it for herself,” The Darkness warned. “Never trust a dragon with treasure. Thieves and hoarders, all of them.”
“His voice speaks to you now, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lied.
“You’ve carried him long enough. If I recall correctly, over time the voice becomes very much like your own. All of them do if you aren’t careful.”
“Who?”
“The Amasai.” The dragon tossed her meal up into her massive jaws, gulping it down in one bite. “The Four Burdens. Of course, you wouldn’t have heard of them. Not with your upbringing.”
“She’s no different from the others.” The Darkness scoffed. “Thinking she’s better than you.”
This time I didn’t answer, but still Fiora seemed to know what was happening. Perhaps it was the sideways glare I gave her, or something about the way I smelled. Like rage. Or maybe she could read my mind. I didn’t know enough about dragons to say for sure.
She simply nodded knowingly. “Yes. There it is.”
“You don’t know anything about me, or my upbringing!” I countered. The way she acted as if she understood me was infuriating though I couldn’t put my hand on why.
“Mmm.” It wasn’t really a response. She scratched the side of her jaw with her front claws, lost in thought.
“You’re mistaken,” I insisted, clutching the jewel against my chest once more. “Grandfather gave me this necklace, and he would never do anything to hurt me.”
The dragon raised a brow suspiciously, “Is that right?” her snake-like tongue darted over her razor teeth as she spoke, dragging her words out. “It would seem that it is you who know very little about your upbringing, child. Your grandfather may not have known the details of the gift he was giving, but he knew it was of Mystic origin.”
“He said it was a family heirloom,” I did my best to keep the doubt out of my voice. “It was no secret that he’d gotten it from the Mystics.”
“So, he knew that much, did he? He’s even more of a fool than I thought if he would accept such a gift from the traitor.”
“Don’t trust her,” The Darkness warned. “She’d eat you just as soon as look at you.”
“He will play with your head like that, if you let him,” Fiora acted as if she, too could hear the voice of the Darkness. But that was impossible. I was pretty sure that dragons did not possess any kind of telepathy.
“What do you mean? What traitor?” I decided the best plan of action was to ignore her reference to
the Darkness and focus instead on gathering as much information from her as I could.
“Interesting,” Smoke rings puffed from Fiora’s nose as she mulled over my response. “Do you not recognize your own uncle?”
Uncle? But that would mean…”
“Cazlyn’s father!” I knew I recognized those eyes from somewhere. Apparently, my cousin had inherited them from his paternal side.
“Indeed.”
Pain shot through my head once more, making my eyes water. My vision blurred, and I squinted them shut, trying to clear the tears from my eyes. Instead of being met with darkness, a series of visions invaded my mind rapidly.
A younger version of mother’s face, her hands bound behind her back.
Flash
Cazlyn on a bedroll in the woods. He looks ill
Flash
A cave, not unlike this one, full of magical creatures. Eoma stands before them, but I can’t hear her words, only someone else’s:
“You would use her as your pawn?”
Flash
I stand over the body of a man, an arrow protruding from his chest. In the distance I hear footsteps. I turn, and my eyes meet those of the killer. Eyes I have seen before, on someone else’s face.
“What is it that he shows you, child?” Fiora’s voice was distant, hardly an echo in the chaos of scenes that swirled before my eyes.
In the distance I heard the sound of horses marching. Images of the night we fled home flashed before my eyes. Human men in uniforms. And blood. So much blood.
And then, out of nowhere, there was a bright light, and warmth. I was lying in a field, staring up at the stars.
“What is the end of one day, if not the beginning of another?” The voice was both comforting and foreign. I felt the warmth of someone’s breath on the side of my face, and a familiar weight on my shoulder. Nova leaned into me, grounding me. Bringing me back to the present.
I drew in a deep breath, filling my lungs with the musty cave air. My hands found the cave floor. You are here. Nowhere else. I couldn’t tell whether the thoughts came from Nova or myself, but at the moment, it didn’t really matter. Slowly, my heartbeat stabilized, and I opened my eyes.
“Interesting.” Fiora’s eyes narrowed, and she extended her neck toward Nova, looking her over with scrutiny. “You are more than the steed you appear to be. Perhaps it is good that I did not eat you.”
The two stood, eyes locked. Though they said nothing, I got the feeling that they were communicating in some way or other. The dragon nodded, “Yes. This will do.”
She turned her attention back to me. “Now, youngling. It is time you knew what destiny awaits you.”
Chapter Six
“Many have heard the tale of Anhedonia,” she began. “But few, today, know the true history of the Amasai.”
“Amasai?” I had never heard the word before. Nova snorted softly. Neither had she.
“Amasai,” Fiora repeated. “The Four Burdens. Sprite-like creatures that spread fear, anger, greed, and despair across the land. The original instigators of the First War. Their names are: Metuza, Imari, Avadari, and Anhedonia.” With her claw she drew a circle in the stone before her. As she named the Amasai, she drew a notch in each side of the circle. It looked oddly familiar.
“King Irving’s family crest.” I whispered to myself. With a few modifications removed—embellishments really—the symbols were the same. On the crest, each dot was a different colored jewel. Red, yellow, green, and black. A line was drawn vertically, which flared at bottom, and another crossed it, curling inward at opposite ends, like a double-headed serpent.
The crest was something adopted not long after my people first settled here, though no one seemed to know why. Some of the elders said it paid homage to the religion of the Old World. Others claimed it was reminiscent of a hydra—the source of our greatest defense—being run through with a sword. A warning to the Mystics.
Maybe it was a bit of both. I looked again at the symbol Fiora had carved into the stone. Maybe it was something more. Fiora’s cat-like eyes held mine solemnly and I wondered if she sensed my thoughts. If she did, she didn’t say.
“Playthings of the Goddess Nywa who kept them safely locked away. Until, one day her curiosity got the best of her. Anhedonia called to her that he was so lonely. His lamentation echoed her own loneliness, preying on the Goddess’ weakness. She released Anhedonia from his prison, and he in turn released the others. That was the beginning of the First War.”
“We were there, in the beginning,” The memory of words echoed in a dream floated to the surface of my mind. A dream Anhedonia had given me. No. Not a dream. Something remembered, from generations ago.
“They are more powerful together.” I realized aloud.
“Yes. Fear may be conquered on its own, or anger, sorrow, even greed. But when combined, the four become too powerful for most to overcome.”
“Then how did the war end?”
“The Professor,” she said, as if I should know who that was. “Humans called him Mage, I believe. He found them, one by one, and imprisoned them. However; as I am sure you have experienced, he found that even while imprisoned they retained their power to influence those around them.”
“Only the weak ones,” The Darkness used the opportunity to pull my attention from Fiora’s tale, “Like you.”
Fiora paused as if waiting for something. How did she know when the Darkness spoke?
“Dragons read body language.” I startled. I was certain I hadn’t spoken the question aloud. “As do all the great hunters.”
“You are just prey to her, then. Tread lightly, silly girl.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes glancing from the dragon’s claws to her massive jaw. She could crush me in one bite. The thought made me shiver.
“I am familiar enough, with the voice of Anhedonia. His patterns have not changed, even after all these years. When he speaks to you I see it in your face. In your posture. I can smell your doubts and fears.”
There was no use denying it. “You speak as if you’ve heard the voice yourself.”
“Anhedonia and I have spent many years together, for I have been his guardian.”
My heart fell down to my feet, and I felt my face flush. I tried to steady myself, to will myself to smell less like fear. “You protect him?”
“Be still, child,” Fiora commanded. “I protect the world from him. Or, at least, that was the task I was given.”
“By the Professor?”
“Indeed. Each of the Amasai were assigned a guardian. Someone who knew them well enough already. That was, in my mind, both his wisest choice and greatest mistake.”
“How can it be both?”
“Only those who are familiar with the Four Burdens can truly comprehend the dangers they represent. In that way, we were the only ones who would respect their power enough to keep it hidden.”
“So how was it a mistake?”
“By choosing us the way he did, he was asking us each to face our greatest weakness, every day. And to fight it.”
She didn’t need to say anymore. In the short amount of time that I’d experienced the voice of the Darkness, I could already feel that it had changed me. Constantly fighting against its criticism, even when I was certain it only existed inside myself, brought on a weariness beyond anything I’d ever thought possible.
“If it truly belongs to you, I could just give it back.”
“And then you wouldn’t have to eat me,” This time, the thought belonged to me.
“I’m afraid that won’t do any good. Not now.”
“W-why?” I cleared my throat in an attempt to distract from my stammering. Getting emotional wasn’t going to help me now.”
“Because Anhedonia has found something in you. Something new. And he has latched onto it, intertwining his consciousness with your own. He will not let go of it willingly.”
“You said something…about my dream. That t
he memory was yours. Is that what you mean?”
“The Amasai collect memories from those who carry them. It gives them power. Sometimes, they will pull a memory just to taint it and use it against you.” She paused, and for a moment I wondered if dragons could shed tears, for it looked like she was holding them back. “The words you called out in your sleep—"
“Dark days are coming, my friend.” I repeated the words from my dream.
“That memory was one of mine, from long ago, before I had even hatched. Before I was tasked with guarding him.” Her tone turned sour, “It is a memory he plucked from my mind and has used over and over throughout our years together.”
Fiora unfurled her wings slightly and snarled, baring her teeth in my direction. “The Amasai do not share the memories of others. Not willingly. Somehow, you have been granted access to Anhedonia’s mind.”
“I don’t mean to!” I squeaked. The dragon’s lips uncurled, and her wings folded against her back, satisfied that I was not cooperating with Anhedonia. “I see things, sometimes,” I admitted. It was a relief to say it out loud to someone; even if it was a dragon. “Horrible things. Thoughts that feel like my own but aren’t. Not really.”
“Such as?”
“Deaths, mostly, or murders, I’m not sure what to call them, but they are awful.”
“Whose deaths? Do you remember? It is important, child.” Fiora’s eyes betrayed her. I’d caught her off guard with my confession.
“M-mystics, mostly,” I stammered. “A nymph, a phoenix, a satyr…there are more,” I struggled to recall without recounting, shaking my head to rid myself of the images swimming in my mind.
“The Awakening. He is trying to force it from you. Melding his awareness with your own. That is why they manifest in the way they do.”
So, I was partially right. It was the Awakening. If Anhedonia was forcing his own memories on me, that meant it wasn’t something wrong with me after all!
“She didn’t say that, stupid.” The Darkness countered, “I’m simply giving you the power your human mind suppressed. Without me you would be nothing. A misfit among both your people.” I tried to block out Anhedonia’s lies, but it was hard to tell when to ignore the thoughts and when to give them credence. Either way, that one stung.
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