by LJ Davies
Only thing that's not changed is my willingness to follow her. I thought as she stopped, and so did I.
The gentle patter of rain and the light rustling of pine trees broke the silence. She carefully drew her bow, pulling back the string and releasing an arrow. The subsequent rustle and sharp caw heralded contact before a rather large bird fell from the trees.
"Good shot," I complemented, the playful humour in my voice feeling more than a little strange.
Talking like this... Nothing's ever going to be the same again. I thought, as she looked back, brushing hair from her eyes.
"Thank you, let’s hope it’s something good," she replied, recovering the arrow.
"I hope you haven't forgotten how to catch things either?" she asked in the way a teacher would before an important test.
"I haven't forgotten anything," I assured, straightening myself up.
I remained true to that statement over the next few hours, although she made me all too aware that blazing claws weren't the correct weapons for catching prey, nor was dragonfire. Thinking back to a time I myself had made the same statement to my friends, made the light scolding a little embarrassing.
Even so, she wasn't one to misuse my new abilities, and when our hunt finally concluded, a cooked meal was far easier to obtain. The sky had cleared slightly by the time we found ourselves beside the smooth, grassy banks of a small river, surrounded by ruined walls and crooked trees breaking up the grassy slopes. The winter sun had finally broken through, spreading its light, making the rushing water shimmer like liquid gold as it bubbled and surged over boulders.
"You know, I never caught this many after you left?" she mentioned, motioning to the pheasants and rabbits piled up next to her. "Although, I won't lie, I would have killed to get my hands on some more of those boom-orbs. They have their uses, that’s for sure," she added mischievously.
"I haven’t caught anything since leaving," I added, recalling the few times I'd actually hunted without her.
"Well, you could have fooled me," she responded, leaning back and taking a charred leg from the sizzling carcass.
I looked down at the singed bird, licks of white flame still flickering from the burnt grass around it.
"I think there are a lot of races I've fooled," I admitted, and she gave me a perplexed look.
"Why's that? I thought you said they all trusted you, that's why they're all here, isn't it?" she asked.
"They only trust what they want me to be. Like I said, I'm not like them, and I cannot explain everything because I don't know the full truth, but they're depending on me to be something I can't be," I added, the joy of being out in the wilderness with my closest friend all but exhausted by the reality check.
Tossing aside the small bone of her meal, Tarwin shuffled closer.
"Blaze, a few days ago, I'd no idea any of this existed. Well, I knew dragons, dark wizards and monsters were real, but nothing like this." She motioned back in the direction of the camp. "It always makes me wonder why Father was so desperate to protect me from it."
I picked up the courage to look at her, even if the mention of him made me want to crawl into the yawning hole inside my chest.
"Not that it did him much good," she continued in a whisper, tossing a small pebble into the river.
"No, if he had any idea of what was out here, he was right to be concerned," I replied.
She looked up, the pain in her eyes showing how many times someone had told her the same thing, only for her to refuse to believe it.
Coming from me, she can't ignore it. Can she?
"And you think that about your friends, do you?" she asked.
It took a moment for an answer to come to me, and even then, all I could do was shake my head in disapproval while her expression grew more serious.
"I know he was just trying to keep us safe, but..." she began.
"He was trying to keep you safe, not me," I cut her off, and once again, her anger seemed fuelled by the idea. "I know he never trusted me, any more than he did the world. Yorik is the same, but sometimes I think not trusting anything is the best way to survive out here."
"Is that why you're afraid to do what they need you to do? Is it because you don't trust them?" she asked deliberately.
Do I trust them? Her question raced around my mind, but ultimately, I knew the answer.
"I don't trust myself, because I can't be sure what will happen if I make any mistakes," I corrected, standing up and moving to the riverbank as the surge of reality felt like a kick in the tail.
"So that's why you remind me of him," she observed, raising her hand to her chin.
"The moment I heard your voice, you reminded me of Father. Although you sound nothing like him, now I can see why. The way you act and talk, you're not so different," she elaborated, and the idea swiftly eased my racing mind despite my avatar’s instant attempt to weaponise it.
She's right, I hardly protect my friends in a different way. But is that a good or a bad thing? Letting out a shallow breath, I ruffled my wings.
"Blaze," she continued, "out here I think I'm one of the leading experts on being different. Back home, we always thought we were in charge, and I thought I knew everything about the world when really, I was only part of the smallest, most pathetic group to live in it," she admitted, shuffling over and crouching beside me.
"Tarwin, you’re far from pathetic," I assured her, forging a smile across her face.
"Blaze, we were afraid of what we'd forgotten, and now that it's finally come back to us, we're ignorant of it. Father told me there was nothing but danger in the world, and yes, he was right, but he used that to hide the fact that our people had given up long ago," she went on, placing her hand on top of my helmet.
"Don't give up, because I know this world we've hidden from needs you," she finished, wrapping me in a hug.
"This world used to be a smaller place," I muttered as she released me and leaned back.
"I know, but it grew a whole lot the day I found you."
I looked at her, allowing the armour encasing my head to slide away over my neck. All of the loss and sadness I'd suffered without her focused into one moment as I hugged her back.
"Then, for me, it could never have been any better," I assured her as she brushed a hand over the back of my neck.
I'd no idea whether she could hear the words without my helmet, but it was clear that neither of us had to say anything more. As truthful as her words were, they didn't change the fact that, at dawn, I'd have to lead my friends into battle.
"Come on, it'll be dark soon, we should be getting back," she suggested, standing up and looking to the darkening sky.
"I know, the council is holding the last war meeting tonight," I informed her as my helmet slid back into place.
"Well, that makes it all the more important," she declared, motioning for me to follow as she moved back towards the camp.
Chapter 11
Council of the Elders
On the way back it seemed the camp guards weren't so dismissive, and the sound of beating wings signalled the approach of a larger dragon.
"Good, I’ve been looking all over for you," Soaren proclaimed, words battling through exhaustion as he straightened himself. "The order master and Elders request your presence at tonight's council, you and your friends are all to attend," he explained.
"What about her, she's my friend?" I asked, motioning at Tarwin.
The look on her face told me she'd heard; it was a look of pride. Soaren glanced between us, as if forced into a position not detailed in his orders.
"I am sure the order master will see fit to oblige your request, bring the mordrin, if you wish," he sighed, turning away.
"Her name's Tarwin," I corrected, but he simply grumbled to himself as he departed.
"Thanks," Tarwin whispered.
"Not everyone around here has given up on you, besides, even if they did, you'd be the last person I'd give up on."
"Say that to me again when yo
u’re with your blue friend," she teased.
Verbally chastised, I blinked in confusion, before she waved goodbye and urged me to take off after Soaren.
"Boltock and the faldron will meet you there. Ember is already inside," the air dragon instructed, but his words were almost lost to the currents of my mind as much as they were the wind.
"What about Risha?" I asked, the absence of her name the only thing I picked up on.
He banked right, toward the keep as the larger of the tents began to pass by beneath us.
"I'm sure she'll be there too," he added.
The memory of her last words and her current feelings made me question that, and my eyes fixed on the vast tent bearing the healing glyph of the water order.
"I'm going to go find her," I argued, banking away. "You'll have to tell Zephyra that every race in the camp is coming, and I mean everyone!" I added before he could question.
Not that I'll listen if he objects. His expression telling me he knew as much. He's more like his order master than he knows.
"Very well, but be quick, and be quicker if your friend has already left!" he insisted begrudgingly, flying off toward the ruined keep.
I took him up on that last request as I dropped in front of the healing tent and stepped inside. A multitude of eyes watched me, be they dragon or otherwise. I didn't pay them much attention as I glanced about, catching no sign of Risha.
Maybe she's already gone on without me? I thought as I noticed a familiar face amidst the crowd.
The wounded man lying upon the bed of moss glared at me as I cautiously approached. Tarwin had been right when she'd said whatever treatment Yorik had received was working, but that didn't change the fact he'd once thought to kill me. Despite his stern expression, he looked incredibly weak.
I expect he doesn't want any of his kind to see him this way. Otherwise, Tarwin would have probably been here rather than with me.
"You, I know you can understand me," he coughed, and several griffins lifted their heads.
"I think you've always known I can," I offered, and what I thought would be shock was replaced by a laugh.
It was clear he'd accepted this strange new world for what it was. Just as I'd done.
"No, that was Tarwin's thing, that's why she's in charge," he responded, words broken by slight rasping.
"She's in charge because of her father, not anything to do with me," I stated firmly, but once again, he laughed.
"Obviously she knows far more about you than you know of her then," he answered, the suggestion irritating and intriguing me in equal measure.
"I was supposed to be in charge. After she got rid of you, her father deemed her ready to marry and I was to become the new chief," he began, immediately turning my thoughts to disbelief, anger and a cold, crushing realisation that such a thing wasn't so farfetched.
Tarwin hasn't told me any of this. What else hasn't she told me? I almost felt like I could rip the man's throat out for treating my friend in such a way. How dare he show her so little respect!
But what would that achieve other than turn me into the monster his kind has always feared? The more rational part of me interjected.
"But who should show up days before such a union could pass?" Yorik went on knowingly, his glare growing sharper.
"She'd never have done anything like that," I insisted, but he shook his head.
"I think without you she'd have done anything her village needed, no matter how much she didn’t want to," he countered.
I was on the verge of growling, when his expression softened.
"I see now that such things may have been hasty. Don't think that I don’t blame you for what became of the village, but those things matter little now."
He's not wrong, it was my fault. The memory of my old home in flames sent a jab of pain through me.
"You saved her that day, dragged her from the fire and then she saved us. The first time I saw you, I thought everything she said was stupid. I now know that was the narrow-minded view of a blind man," he confessed with a look confirming he'd deny ever having said this if I ever told anyone else.
I glanced down at my paws, battling not to allow Mordrakk access to his words, lest he turn them against me.
"I fear that, if not for her, we'd still be stuck in the mountains, preyed upon by beast-men until we were nothing but scraps and bones," he went on.
"Who says this is any better?" I asked.
"I do, and not because I trust you, but because she trusts you – enough to put the lives of our people in your care. Her judgment, no matter how strange, has never led us astray," he continued bluntly. "We were to be married, and whether I liked it or not, I have to trust her," he added, words cut off by a cough.
Thinking about that, I knew I should trust Risha in the same way.
But it's not that I don't trust her – I just don't want to hurt her.
"There is the one thing I never saw in you until that night in the fire," Yorik added.
"And what's that?" I asked.
"That you'd do anything to protect her."
He's right; I'd do the same for any of them. Though he spoke as if he almost demanded it as a promise.
"Blaze?" Risha's voice broke my concentration, her tone slightly touched by confusion.
I looked back to see her standing behind me as she asked.
"What are you doing here, shouldn't you be at the council?"
"I came back to get you. I mean, after everything I said, I just…" My voice trailed off, and her look became sympathetic. "Well, when it comes to talking, I still think you’re far better at it than I am," I admitted finally.
"At least I know that’s not a lie," she joked, moving away with a flick of her tail.
I raised a forepaw to my muzzle, where the fin at the tip of her tail had caught me.
"Look, Risha, I…" My words died once again.
The truth's there and yet so far away. Just tell her, tell her! My mind screamed. She's your best friend, you can trust her more than anyone.
The confession was more distant than the stars, and Mordrakk sought to ensure it stayed that way. Meanwhile, she glanced back, hanging on my fading words, before shaking her head.
"You're right, we should be going, the council will be meeting soon," she proposed, changing the subject, moving toward the exit.
I watched her while the truth burned like hot ashes in my muzzle, and swallowing my confession, I followed hesitantly.
Trust is a two-way thing, and if Yorik's right, I have to trust her. But I promised to never let anything hurt her again too.
My mind craved a distraction from the mental conflict, and glancing skyward, I focused on the flocks of winged creatures passing overhead. The sounds of the camp preparing for the next day’s battle drifted to my ears on the cold wind as my gaze panned over, eventually falling on the keep. Meanwhile, Risha looked back, her concern visible no matter how stoic she tried to appear.
"I take it you're not going to try and stop this?" she asked.
Uncertainty filled my mind. I didn't want to take them into battle, that was true, but would it stop them flying into a war without me?
That's hardly any better. If I'm there, I can keep them safe at least.
At the back of my mind, I already knew the answer, and the same thoughts that had allowed me to hide away for weeks and justify my desertion, were busy working on a way to save them, without risking their lives or any other than my own.
"It doesn't matter what anyone says, I'll never be fond of this idea," I admitted.
"I don't think anyone here is fond of the idea," she reasoned.
I stared at her, knowing there were a number of responses she wanted to hear, and yet I was fully aware that she expected only one, the one that left my muzzle.
"What about you?"
The look she gave confirmed my suspicions. She sighed, opening her muzzle to respond, but I raised a forepaw to stop her.
"I don't need to know," I informed bluntly. "I
can't stop you; you were right. I know I should never have come back, knowing I'd have to risk your lives," I confessed. "I just want you to know I'd never do anything to hurt any of you."
"I never thought that. I know you’d always do best by us," she assured.
"I just hope I don't come to regret anything," I uttered, shying away.
"You won't, I promise," she replied sincerely.
As much as I appreciated her words, I knew she couldn't stick to them indefinitely, much like my own promises.
She has no idea how tomorrow will play out; this could be our last night alive.
"There you are! Come on, they won't wait all night," Boltock’s exasperated voice called as he appeared from the crowd.
The moment he made his presence known; the intensity of our conversation dispersed.
"Well, you're not in there either," his sister commented, drawing the green dragon to a halt.
"I wasn't going to turn up alone, and I found you two before Neera," he answered defensively, turning his tail to her and marching toward the keep before she could respond.
Even so, her promise held its station at the forefront of my thoughts, and my weak smile broadened.
"About tomorrow... I... I'll hold you to that, you know."
"I have no doubt about it," she responded with a wry smile, before the two of us followed her brother.
*
The meeting room for the council sat beneath the main keep, accessed by a large set of stairs below the wall. The remnants of a metal gate, shaped to mimic water, sat within a vast archway, while formidable icicles loomed down like clusters of frozen bats.
Like the rest of the strange ruins, it was similar to those I'd seen in Valcador, although it was worn and rusted. The tower of the main keep loomed above it, illuminated by flaming braziers and torches, as were the two smaller flanking towers, each bearing a griffin guard upon their ruined summit. While small gullies of what may have once been water features snaked down on either side of the stairs as they descended.
I tried to imagine its former beauty, adding running water to my mental image. The opportunity to take in more of the detail was stolen when we reached the bottom of the stairs, and found ourselves amidst a crowd of winged creatures.