Friday Flash: The Two Dragons

This is the end of Fain and Nuria's tale, a series of seven Friday Flash stories that began with The Hands of the Healer. Unfortunately, the story is getting close to the events of the book I'm writing, so I can't continue with Fain any further. Instead I'm going to write about what happens to Nuria, who has only a minor role in my first book. After a little break, that is.

The sun’s warmth settled on Fain’s back and shoulders as he nibbled on a piece of cured meat. The flavour and the warmth were lost on him; his mind was elsewhere. Just as he and the other shapeshifters were leaving for the Nesting grounds, Stiv, one of the elders had shoved a bound and gagged shapeshifter in front of them. He’d burst into laughter: the shapeshifter was Jark.

“Jark revealed the Queen your route to the dragon’s nesting grounds. Luckily all virras are greedy little blabbermouths, and the virra he sent betrayed him.” The Elder looked at the now silent Fain. “Seems like he wanted to sell you to the Queen.”

They took an alternative route through a gorge in the Argent Mountains. The terrain was rougher and the going slower, but safer; the only dangers were huge birds that roosted in the mountains and at night lesser demons, remnants of the wars. Neither were a match for a healthy, adult shapeshifter.

The party settled down to rest and to give their prisoner his dose of poison, the only way of keeping him weak enough not change his shape.

Fain finished his meal, took a wooden cup, a waterskin and pouch of crushed leaves out of a bag. Just a pinch of the leaves was enough, too much and Jark would have to be carried or worse, die.

He poured the water on the leaves, mixing the liquid with a twig. Carefully he carried the cup to Jark and removed his gag. Lifting the cup to his mouth Fain whispered: “I am sorry.”

Jark didn’t answer. He drank the liquid slowly, while staring at Fain; hate, colder than the permafrost of the north, glinted in his blue eyes.

“They’re going to give you to the dragons. They’ll likely eat you. I could give you an overdose if you prefer a quick and painless—”

“I would rather be eaten alive by dragons than killed by you.”

Fain opened his mouth to speak, when he heard shouting: a dragon was circling overhead. He looked upwards; the dragon was dark in colour and too bulky to be a female. Jark had noticed as well. “One of yours?”

Fain swallowed, the dragon had stopped circling and dropped downwards, disappearing from view. As the scrape of claws drew closer, the other shapeshifters changed into their battle forms. He followed suit, changing into a fool’s dragon. The dragon was met by a drake, a huge wolf with large teeth protruding from its snout, and other forms too weak to defeat a dragon. They could only hope that the dragon had mistaken them for prey.

A massive head appeared above the gorge, the tips of black wings swaying on each side as the dragon balanced.

“I am Rhorat, son of Garroth,” it bellowed. “The Queen beckons me to bring her the one called Fain.”

Fear washed over Fain, while next to him Jark smiled.

“Go back south, Rhorat!” Ragh shouted upwards; the dragon snorted.

“A drake commanding a dragon?” Rhorat’s nostrils flared as it drew a deep breath. “You cannot hide him. I know Fain is part dragon, I can smell him amidst you.”

The blunt snout came down into the gorge, black forked tongue sliding against white teeth as the nostrils opened and closed in rhythm to the sniffing. Fain shrank against the cliff-face. The dragon scoffed, a belch of sulphurous breath encased the shapeshifters.

“Come with me, Fain, and I will not eat your friends.” The dragon’s voice was quiet and soft. Fain stepped forwards from the cliff face; he wouldn’t surrender but neither would he endanger his friends.

Wings spread he flew past the maw of the dragon and into the sky. Roaring with fury, Rhorat followed, fire erupting from its maw. With ease, the dragon caught him, claws encasing the shapeshifter in fool’s dragon form. He struggled, but the claws held him firm.

An angered cry pierced the sky. The claws retracted, leaving Fain floating for a moment. Wings cast wide, he glided on the ground and looked up to see a big red dragon entangled in battle with Rhorat.

Flames burst from Alhena’s jaws, charring Rhorat’s wing. The black dragon struck its claws into Alhena’s wings and pulled downwards, leaving tears in their wake. Both began to lose altitude as their wounded wings failed to carry them.

Fain watched in horror as the dragons fought, still entwined, scratching and biting as the ground neared.

“Alhena!”

The red dragon spread its wings wide, the air caught in the folds pushed her upwards. Rhorat released his grip, wings expanding from his sides, but the ground hit him before his wings could unfold. Alhena slammed onto the ground. Slowly she rolled onto her feet and ran shakily to the shapeshifter.

“Change into something small!” Fain obeyed, shrinking into a mouse. Alhena’s scaly foot came down, stopping a few inches above him. Beneath him the earth trembled as the black dragon got up.

“Queen Yassa needs the shapeshifter they call Fain. She will find him sooner or later.” Rhorat hissed.

Alhena didn’t answer; she stood still, teeth bared until the dragon slunk away to nurse its wounds. She lifted her foot, allowing Fain to change.

“Scarla is coming, she will take care of your friends. I will take you back to the village—”

“No.” He stood silent for a moment. He couldn’t go back the village, Queen Yassa would send Rhorat and others. He couldn’t risk Nuria getting hurt because of him. Why did she want him bad enough to send a dragon?

He didn’t ask Alhena, but instead said: “Take me to the Weeping Woods, there are shapeshifters there who fight the Queen. Perhaps they can help.”

Alhena nodded slowly. She lay flat as Fain climbed on to her wide back. Alhena stood up and folded her wounded wings. Tired and beaten, they began their journey south.

Friday Flash: The Trap

Only two more to go after this, then I can rest. Continuation to The Dragon Dance.

The cold wind of early spring cut into the bare skin of Jark’s hands and face, but failed to reach his mind. He’d warned Nuria not to get attached to shapeshifter found half dead in the Ice Barrens, he’d warned her again. Other’s had been found and rescued from a cold death, but they had repaid by attacking the humans who came to trade, some even attacked other shapeshifters.

Once Fain found out that he was one of the shapeshifters stolen as a child he would hate all humans. Nuria was part human. Even if he didn’t harm her, he would have to be exiled. The village depended on trade with the humans who didn’t view them as monsters. It would be better for everyone if they were rid of him.

Jark’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted when another shapeshifter ran into him. He regained balance swiftly, while the person who had run into him lay on his back. Jark was about to offer his hand to the fellow when he recognized the face. Fain.

A child appeared, touched Fain’s forehead and shouted gleefully: “Tag, you’re the hunter now!”

”I’ll get you in a moment!” he shouted. Getting up, he brushed a bit of dust off himself. ”Sorry Jark, I wasn’t paying attention. Nell was about to catch me.”

“She and the other children will miss you.” No one had had the heart to tell Fain his village had been destroyed, the fool still planned on returning to his tribe. “You will guard the reds for one more summer?”

“Yes, but we’ll return. I want everyone to meet our children someday.”

“Yes, children…” Gods, children by an abomination who guarded the evil dragons. He had to get rid of him quickly. “Once home you’re going to guard the black dragons.”

“Oh yes, I’ve seen them up close when I was young. They are so beautiful, powerful and…”

“Evil.”

Fain hid his clawed hands behind his back, but he couldn’t hide the change in his light brown eyes; they had turned a deep grey. Just as Jark had hoped, he was upset. All shapeshifters who guarded dragons were proud of theirs. “Just because a few maim and kill for their delight-”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re part black dragon, aren’t you?” He pushed Fain’s long hair off the nape of his neck to reveal black scales.

A low growl emitted from Fains throat; it ceased for a moment as he spoke. “Speak another word and I will tear your throat.”

“They should be hunted down, all of them.”

White, leathery wings grew out of Fain’s back as he fell onto his hands and knees. Bits of fabric fell to the ground as his human form was replaced by something much bigger, a fool’s dragon. He charged without warning, his dragon-like head ramming into Jark. Fain missed the smile on his face; he had ran into a trap.

Claws dug into the fool’s dragon’s long neck, the sudden weight pulling him to the ground. Jark’s polar bear form was strong, but fool’s dragons were stronger. Fain stood up, the white bear hanging on; swinging his neck sideways he managed to lose the bear.

Jark landed on his side, quickly rising to his feet. Black lips curled into a mocking smile. He waited until Fain rammed into him again. This time he slapped Fain’s head with a giant paw, then pinned his head to the ground.

He whispered into the fool’s dragon’s ear: “Your mother was a spawn of evil and you’re only slightly better.”

Fain’s eye flicked towards him, the grey iris lost in a sea of white. Roaring Fain flung his head upwards, sending Jark stumbling backwards into one of the houses. He drew a deep breath, but his senses still got the better of him. Though the buildings were enchanted against fire, you still did not breathe flames in a village of wooden buildings.

A crowd had begun to gather. The children who had played earlier now peeked from amidst their parents. Ignoring them, Fain spread his white wings, rose onto his hoofed hind legs and shook his brown mane. He trumpeted a loud battle cry and lunged forwards, sharp white fangs glistening with saliva against a backdrop of red. His teeth were about to sink into the bear’s neck when he heard an angry voice shout, “Fain, stop this instant!”

Fain’s ears flicked back and forth as he considered the order. Reluctantly he let go of the insolent shapeshifter in bear form.

“Change!” Nuria’s hands were balled into fists, her eyes shone a bright scarlet. “I will not talk to you while you’re in battle-form.”

“But I will be indecent in human form.” He lay down in front of his partner, a sign of submission with most creatures.

“Just change into something else you rarfnigan!” She grabbed him by the mane and lifted his face to hers. “Now!”

Fain shrunk into the form of a white lap dog. His big brown puppy eyes were enough to douse Nuria’s anger.

“What happened?” Her anger had found a new target. Jark lifted his great white head and growled.

“He attacked me, unprovoked.”

From the midst of the crowd a pink wolf snorted. “We all know Jark’s a troublemaker.”

“He did something to make Fain go mad!” Nell shouted, stomping with each word.

“I merely said that the evil dragons should be dealt with.” Jark cast a fearful glance at the small bundle of fluff that Fain was now. “He changed into the form you saw, a fool’s dragon. Only a drake and a dragon are stronger. He was going to kill me.”

“He insulted the good blacks!” Fain barked. Nuria picked him up into her arms, stroking his back gently.

“No matter what, you never attack another shapeshifter.” A tear rolled down her dark cheek. ”The village elders will decide if your temper is a threat.”

She carried him home and picked out new clothes for him. He dressed in silence, shoulders slumped, his eyes still grey from sadness and shame.