Servant of Sana - Part I

The forest had fallen silent, the stillness broken only by the soft squish of wet moss under Vret’s paws. He lowered his snout down to a root; dots of red stained its rough surface. The scent of blood filled his mouth with saliva, but he swallowed and snorted the smell out of his nose. He had to keep the wolf’s instincts at bay.

Vret walked onwards, following the smell and the dots of blood. Behind him the other hunters followed, Bhair trailing right on his heels. The others had forms bigger and stronger than his; even Bhair’s hunting form, a fellow wolf, stood taller than him. Luckily his wolf form had the best nose, otherwise he would’ve been useless.

“Vret, stop.” Bhair walked next to Vret, fur bristling, ears flat. “The deer’s headed for a cursed place.”

Another hunting party had passed the area months ago and noticed the change. The feel of the woods was wrong: the wind died there, animals were quiet, and a foul stench wafted through the air.

One of the trees surrounding a little clearing now housed a demon. A summoner who served the God of Death Vixi had stamped the being there, a trap for powerful shapeshifters. But Vret wasn’t powerful.

“The demon won’t bother with me.” He broke into a run before they could stop him. Broken branches and faint tracks led him on a winding trail. The deer had faltered; he’d find it lying down soon. Then he could finish the animal and drag it back.

Silence deepened around him. The smell of rot mixed with and soon overpowered the scent he followed. Vret stopped, the green streak of fur on his back bristling. The deer had bed near a willow in the clearing that opened before him. Its sides were still, the fur matted with dark blood, a gloss had slid over its dark eyes.

Though an eerie feel permeated the clearing, nothing outright threatened him. Vret slunk nearer to the dead deer. Ears perked up, muscles tense he waited for a sign of the demon.

A rustle caught his attention. Vret froze. He drew breath, ready to call to the others, but the howl died; they wouldn’t step anywhere near the clearing.

Suddenly a bear ran from the bushes. Its eyes darted between Vret and the carcass. Vret sought the few words of bear he knew, but found only insults. Calling the bear a stumpy clawed flatfoot would only anger the animal.

The bear rose, a throaty roar bursting from its maw. Vret stood still. He looked at the deer, and then at the bear. The kill belonged to him. A growl rumbled in his throat; hackles raised he spoke to the insolent animal.

Mine.

The bear lunged forwards. Its round taloned paw arched through the air and struck Vret’s shoulder. He staggered back, tail between his legs, head held low. The bear attacked again, striking the side of his head. The edge of his sight blurred, and he stumbled backwards. A piece of moss slid loose beneath Vret’s foot, causing him to tumble onto his side.

Carrion breath filled the air, teeth pressed against his neck. He let out a whine, a plea of mercy. The bear’s jaws snapped shut. Vret fell limp and slid over the roots of a pine.

The bear sniffed his face for a moment, but soon lost interest. It lumbered over to the deer carcass and began dragging it into the woods.

Vret drew a wheezing breath. He yelped as the bones in his neck began dragging into place. His magic healed him, but too slowly. Blood trickled down his face and neck; with each beat of his heart his magic and strength fled. As his magic faded, his body reverted back to his true form. Fur slid beneath pink skin, claws softened into fingers, and jaws shrank back into a human mouth.

Vret closed his eyes. He looked inwards into a time when Enna still lived. He’d lost the scent of a boar and tracked her instead; she’d burst out laughing when he told her. Later at the village she’d sought him out.

Vret gritted his teeth as the pain of losing her mingled with the pain of dying. Tears ran down his cheeks, disappearing into the blood. He drew another rasping breath, hoping it would be his last.

A movement caught Vret’s eye, but turning his head hurt too much. Coarse hands cupped his jaw. Elongated fingers webbed over his face and lifted it upwards. A blunt snout split into a toothless smile. Above thick bark-like skin stretched where the demon’s eyes should have been. A needled, dark-green mane ran along its back to the pine trunk where the demon still connected to the tree.

I am Sana. I can heal you… if you become mine. The words caressed his fading mind. His wounds began to knit shut, and the pain eased for a moment.

Survival, within his reach.

“No.” He spoke the words quickly, the answer he had been taught to give. Doubt circled his mind; demons made shapeshifters stronger, but enslaved their victims, slowly corrupting their nature. “I won’t betray my kin.”

I can wait for another one to wander here, but you… The demon twisted Vret's head, sending pain running along his neck. Its fingers held his mouth shut, muffling his scream. You will die. I can make you powerful. I can help you aid your kin.

He then saw his village, the small buildings, children darting between them, changing their form midrun to climb to a roof. One of the children disappeared amidst the trees. The vision followed the child as she jumped over roots and stones. Midjump she changed into a fox. Her tiny feet sent up puffs of dust as she shook off her clothes and darted onwards.

The little girl led Vret’s thoughts to his daughter, a talented shapeshifter unlike her father. Inis would be alone as well as his son Deri. Reet and her partner would care for them, but—

A shrill barking jolted him back to the demon’s vision. The child had backed against a rock, wolves surrounded her. Hackles raised they drew nearer to the child who pressed against the stone.

See what you could do with my help.

A roar drowned the shapeshifter child’s urgent calls for help. Branches parted as a monster emerged. Its skin bore resemblance to the scaly bark of a pine, and a dark green mane of needles ran down its back and along a thick tail.

The monster sprung forwards and grabbed a wolf with its elongated claws. The creature’s green eyes glinted with delight as its hand grasped the squirming and whining wolf. Slowly it tore the screaming animal in two.

The other wolves had fled. The shapeshifter child stood frozen for a moment, then darted in the direction of the village.

That could be you. Your kin may scorn you, but you could still protect them. The demon’s fingers pressed against his face. Tainted magic spread from them. With each moment he grew stronger. He could change into a big wolf, a bear, even a fool’s dragon.

Vret opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue didn’t move and his jaw hung slack. Numbness coated his body. The world began to fade, colors blurring into each other. His body began breaking under the strain of his magic fighting the demon. Pain dragged him unconscious as his feeble magic became part of the demon’s, devoured by the greater power.

Extending Vret's Story

I recently took part in Timony Souler's MarchMadness blog challenge. I've written a lot of short flash fiction, and sometimes I feel there's more to the story than can be told within the limits of the word count. I guess my problem is that I'm trying to stuff too much story into too few words.

For this challenge I came up with a character called Vret, whose story I couldn't really fit into those 4 x 200 words. After the challenge I began writing a longer version of Vret's story. It's currently around 4000 words, and the end is not in sight. I'll be posting the story in parts, starting next week.

BTW. Myth the purple (occasionally red) banner dragon got lost while migrating, which is why it's still snowing in the banner. Meanwhile in Helsinki, it seems like spring is finally coming: weather forecast promises 15°C (59°F) for tomorrow! Oh, and it smells like cows, a sure sign of spring.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 4

Wet moss squished beneath Vret’s bare feet as he walked towards the edge of the woods. The branch of a willow pressed against his arm, leaving behind dots of moisture on his sleeve. He stopped, before him opened a clearing. The one where he’d met his demon.

She’d found him half-dead, offered to heal him if he allowed her to possess him. When her finger trailed along his skin he’d felt power course through him. His wounds had knit themselves shut and the pain faded for a moment. Then his own magic had begun to fight the demon’s.

His mind had blurred from the mix of pain and pleasure, but he must have spoken for he woke with the demon beneath his skin.

“You yearned for me to end your existence as a weakling.” Her words from his mouth jolted him from his thoughts. ”We are both stronger now.”

“Yes, we are.” He’d cheated death and the strongest form he could take was no longer a mere wolf, but a nightmarish creature this world did not bear. He had to bow to Sana’s will, but becoming a strong puppet was better than being weak and free.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 3

Vret bowed his half-changed head before the bigger shapeshifter. A hand settled on the back of his neck. Fingers entangled with his hair and the remnants of a mane, a quick tug pulled his head back.

“Sana, couldn’t you curb your vengeance for a little while longer?” Brell stared through his eyes and into the demon’s. “Vret’s too weak to resist. It had to be you.”

Beneath his skin he felt his demon writhing. Sana’s curses echoed through his mind, her anger rang through the words he spoke: “She says she will rip your head off if you ask her again.”

“Then answer me Vret, what were either of you thinking?” Brell released his grip. His hand lifted to his temple. “Our task was to expose the cruelty that takes place within those walls.”

“We were successful.” Sana bared his teeth into a snarl.

“Your former tribe mate saw it all.” His demon shrunk beneath the tone of Brell’s voice. “She also saw you drag that man here, unconscious, but alive. Now he’s not. See how you’ve risked our work?”

Vret swallowed hard, and then nodded.

“Good.” Brell slapped his hand onto his shoulder. “To redeem yourselves you’re going to back to the village. I have a new task for you two.”

Leaving the Guise at Haunted Waters Press

Copyright © 2012 Haunted Waters Press

My flash fiction story “Leaving the Guise” is featured at Haunted Waters Press website. It takes place in Verannia, and tells the tale of a young shapeshifter who is deciding on his true form.

Also check out the beautiful Spring 2012 issue of From the Depths, the literary journal of Haunted Waters Press.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 2

The weak wind carried the scent of resin mixed with rotting leaves. Vret turned his face to the breeze, its sound mixing with the steady breathing of the prisoner. Leaves rustled as the king’s man shifted in his spell-induced slumber. The thought of toying with his former imprisoner crossed his mind, but he cast it aside.

But the demon had already decided.

His skin thickened and its tone changed into mottled greens. Pieces of cloth fell off his growing body as he stepped towards his prey. Leisurely his claws grabbed the human and slammed him against a pine, breaking the spell. The man’s mouth opened and closed in a silent plead.

Maw hanging open he breathed in the fear the human exuded. He needed more. Gently his demon pushed him aside.

“Little human.” The words flowed from his mouth, in his voice, but they belonged to the demon. “My puppet shall enjoy watching.”

Thick needles pierced the man’s skin, growing trough his flesh. The screaming would alert the hunting party. They’d take him away, keep him alive for questioning. No, his fate does not belong to them. The tip of his claw rested on the man’s throat for a moment before piercing it.

MarchMadness Blog Challenge 1

Timony Souler has a new blog challenge again. Take a look at the prompts on her blog. Didn't have much time to write, but I managed to scrape this up.

The cell door opened with a groan. Vret lifted his eyes from a rat to the man who entered: he bore the King’s insignia on his clothes and in his hands he held scroll and a phial.

“I was possessed by a demon.” Vret’s mouth moved slowly, the poison he’d been forced to drink sapping away his strength. “A greater one.”

The man shoved the scroll into the shapeshifter’s hands. “Verannian law dictates that a shapeshifter must prove they were not aiding the demon.”

“No one can.” He shook his head feebly. “Some would allow a demon to possess them for power, but not I.”

“Your fate is sealed, shapestealer.” The stopper of the phial came free with a pop. Steps echoed in the small cell.

“Please, no! Mercy—”

The king’s man wrenched the shapeshifter’s mouth open. A growl warned him before Vret’s teeth sunk into his hand.

“Thought I was weak and helpless?” Vret’s hands curled around the man’s throat. He fell limp, sliding onto the floor where the rat still stood.

Vret knelt down. He placed a finger beneath the rat’s snout and lifted her eyes to him. ”They would have killed me. Tell the others what you saw.”

TuesdayTales 16 on Glitterlady's Blog

Read the other stories and take part in the challenge here.

I watch the men untangle their nets and curse when they find a hole big enough for a dolphin to escape. A smile crosses my face as I stand up; the last time I cut their traps they caught me and kept me whelved under a boat while the guards were coming to fetch to me. This time they could only curse and accuse me.

One of the men stands up and waves his hand at me. I can make out the words “go away” and “abomination”. I happily oblige, exchanging the view of the vast ocean for a sea of dewy grass. The breath of the ocean still lingers; I catch a drop on the tip of my finger and lift it to my parched lips. The sea itself is forbidden to me, for I dared to love one of its beings. Dared to…

My sweetling cannot exist above the waves and I cannot abandon the ones who raised me, my friends, those who need me. The humans try to force me to choose, but why should a shapeshifter choose between earth and sea, when he can have both?

Creatures of Verannia: Shapeshifters, Part 1

Continuation to my “encyclopedia” of Verannian beings that started with wurmtail hounds and dragons.

Besides humans and vrildrias, shapeshifters are one of the three peoples inhabiting Verannia. They are beings that are, in principle, capable of taking the form of any living being. The change goes deeper than appearances: the shapeshifter gains access to all of the form’s senses and abilities. However, spending a long in time in a certain form slowly makes the shapeshifter more and more like the form. If you run with the wolves or fly with the dragons, you become like one. If you spend your days filtering food from the water flowing through you, you slowly lose interest in everything else. Taking the form of a non-sentient being can be dangerous, because the shapeshifter may become trapped in the form.

Most shapeshifters have a certain form they prefer, and that form may or may not be human. The “true form” resembles their nature, feels right and corresponds with their aesthetics. The true form is chosen during adolescence. When a young shapeshifter has chosen and become comfortable with a form, he or she is considered an adult. Some spend most of their lives in animal form, living like the animal whose form they have chosen. These shapeshifters are sometimes pejoratively called feral shapeshifters or simply ferals, as opposed to the ‘more civilized’ domestic shapeshifters (also a pejorative term used by humans), who live among their own kind or among humans. For shapeshifters, it is not uncommon or unnatural to breed with members of another species. For example, a shapeshifter living among dragons may breed with a dragon. As a result, shapeshifters may have very curious family trees.

However, over many generations of crossbreeding, the shapeshifting ability may diminish in the lineage. Mixed-species heritage also makes finding a suitable partner very hard, because shapeshifters of different heritage may be unable to have children together. When choosing a partner, shapeshifters rely first on appearances. Though the shapeshifter form hides much, it can also reveal things to other shapeshifters. Colours and details added to their appearance tell of the shapeshifter’s values, way of life and heritage. For example, a shapeshifter with a dragon heritage may have scales adorning their face.

According to Verannian law, should a shapeshifter choose a human form, he or she must still be easily distinguishable as non-human. For that reason, they can be quite bizarre-looking. For centuries, humans have accused shapeshifters of ‘shape stealing’, the act of taking the form of a person without his or her will. Although these accusations are probably not without ground, many shapeshifters have been killed for crimes they did not commit.

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: Ashes and Embers

Second to last. Continuation to The Trap.

The shapeshifter child sat huddled against a corner, the only thing left of the burnt house. Ashes and the smell of sulphur floated in the surrounding air. Somewhere a woman laughed: a shrill sound, cutting through the heavy silence. His hands lifted to shield his ears, but he could still hear her.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Something was circling the corner and him. Claws scraped against wood behind him. Before he could bolt, something heavy hit his back, pinning him down against the sooty earth.

“Please don’t kill me.” He whispered, he could feel the breath of the creature upon his face.

“Is death the worst you can think of?” The creature’s claws slipped beneath his skin. His sense of self began to slip away as the demon imposed it’s will upon his. He screamed in fear and agony.

A sharp jab to his side woke him.

“If I can’t sleep, why should you?” His partner Nuria stood beside him, her foot nudging him. “Awake, are we?”

“I wasn’t sleeping, I was having a nightmare.” Fain lifted himself into a sitting position. He could still feel the demon’s claws beneath his skin. “Thank you for waking me up.”

“You’re welcome.” She sat down next to him, placing a dusky hand on his pale arm. “The burning houses again?”

“They were burnt down this time and I heard a woman laughing.” He shivered at the memory. “And one of the demons possessed me.”

She gently pulled him close, running her fingers through his hair as she whispered comforting words. Yet they weren’t enough to calm him.

“I am afraid.” He looked up into her eyes, wrought with worry. “I’ve began to jump when I see my own shadow. I can’t protect the dragons if I am terrified all of the time.”

“I’m worried about you, dear. Not just your nightmares.” He tried to turn his gaze away, but her hands cupped his chin, holding his face to hers. “Jark’s words shouldn’t have angered you so—”

“He called the black dragons evil!” He wrenched himself free from her arms, grabbed some clothes and walked into the other room, dressing quickly.

She followed on his heels. “He angered you on purpose! He wants you exiled because he hates you!”

“I know, I ran headfirst in to his trap.” Fully dressed now, Fain was headed for the door. His hands were about to pull it open when Nuria’s arms wrapped around his waist. She lifted him off his feet and proceeded to half drag, half carry him back into the bedroom.

“You are not going anywhere. We wait for the Elders’ decision here!” She dropped him on the furs that acted as a bed. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for your temper.”

”Forget about Jark the Jerk, for a moment.” Fain stood up, black scales covered his throat and his teeth had grown in to fangs. “What if I’m remembering my past? How can I stop it? If my childhood was demons and torture I do not want to know. Please help me forget somehow!”

Nuria stepped forwards, one hand held his cheek while the other trailed the black scales. He saw her flinch at the heat emanating from the scales; there was some of the fire of the dragons in him. His eyes closed, the fangs retracted into stubby human teeth and the scales began to fade.

“If they do exile me, we’ll just go to my village.” He opened his eyes slowly, pondering his next words. “You are still coming with me?”

“How do you dare?” She gently slapped his cheek. “Of course I am coming with you! I love you, you rarfnigan.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Fain placed a finger on her lips.

“I do not want to dwell on it or my nightmares any more than necessary, my love.” He gazed for a moment into her dark brown eyes, then kissed her. Her arms curled around him so tightly that he gasped; “Can’t breathe dear.”

A knock on the door interrupted their moment. Nuria broke the embrace and walked to the door, while Fain waited in the shadow of a corner.

Lizell stood there; she’d donned a tall human’s form, but with a rainbow of feathers instead of hair.

“Fain of the Leatherwing Tribe, the Elders have decided your punishment. You are forbidden to take the fool’s dragon form within the village unless it is under attack.” She rolled her yellow eyes up, then back to Fain. ”If you do not comply, you will be exiled.” The shapeshifter grinned a wicked smile. “Don’t worry, Jark got punished as well. He’ll be cleaning the dragon nests.”

“He should’ve been sent to the black dragons’ nesting grounds.” He ran a dark claw along his throat, leaving behind a white scar, which healed as he drew it. “They would have had fun with him.”

“Fain, keep you darker side in check.” Lizell shook her head. ”Most of us care for you. We don’t want to see you exiled.”

Jark held the little brown bird close to his mouth as he whispered his message.

“Tell this to the Queen and she will reward you, little virra.”

“Double what you gave me?” The bird squeaked.

“Even more, but do not gossip, though it is your second nature. The Queen does not like her plans spilled.” The bird flew off into the dark sky, disappearing without a trace.

The Elders wouldn’t exile Fain, but he had another plan. The Queen had sent virras to shapeshifter villages, requesting strong shapeshifters for her studies; if the rumours were true they included demons. He was only glad to oblige.

Once Fain and the others set for the nesting grounds, the Queen’s men would intercept them and capture him, and only him.

Silent as a shadow he sneaked back into the village.

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.

Friday Flash: The Dragon Dance

Again, a follow up to my previous friday flash, Light and Dark. Bear with me, there's only three of these left.

Nuria stepped lightly on to the red circle, marking the centre of the Ruby Scales village. The circle was formed of red rocks of varying shades. She lifted her arms up, letting the watchers take in her ceremonial dress; red silks caressed the earth, a belt of red scales adorning her hips. The top half was made of dragon scales as well, sown into the form of a dragon spreading its wings, neck rising towards her face.In the south women danced and afterwards their husbands danced for them, though in a different manner.

But she was in the North; she danced for the dragons, celebrating the pact between shapeshifters and the dragons. As the drumming began, she dropped the left side of her hip then the right, mimicking the lumbering walk of the dragon. Her arms and shoulders moved upwards, then downwards, fluid as a snake in the water. The rhythm of the drum sped up, she began to walk. She rose to the tips of her toes, arms reaching for the sky. As the drumming began to slow down, she spun round once and fell to the ground her back arched, arms folded against her sides.

Howling, roars and others sounds rose from the crowd of shapeshifters. Her smile was polite, until she spotted her partner Fain, sitting between another human and a bright yellow bear. Her eyes narrowed a little as her smile widened. He got up, ran into her arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear.

“Meet me back home?” The crowd had begun to disperse; a pink wolf stalked past them, chuckling.

“I promised to watch Orri’s child.” Fain smiled; the eight-year-old Nell had taken instant liking to him. “He’s off courting Lizell.”

“Good, we aren’t meant to live alone.” She stroked his cheek gently, before walking past him towards their home. As she pushed the door open a hand descended on hers.

“Hello, Nuria.”

“Go away, Jark.” She stepped over the threshold, but he followed.

“I wonder how Fain the Faint bound the beauty to him?”

She turned to face him. His true form was a great, white bear, but now he was human. Handsome in someone else’s eyes, but to her he was a nuisance.

“I would rather question my right to bind his heart to mine. I will likely die decades before him, because of my human blood.” She sighed; shapeshifters were all a mix of species. The more shapeshifter was in you, the slower you aged. “I hope I have enough dragon or shapeshifter in me to live as long as he does.”

He dismissed her words. “I do not think he will stay sane enough to be in a relationship. I wonder what will happen when you tell him that his village was destroyed. He’d have been a child then, ripe for plucking from human point of view.” A shiver of disgust went through him. “Bloody humans. Your Fain somehow escaped the attack and wandered in the White for years. Or he was abducted by those from Mt.Noir, escaping when it was burned.”

“He’s strong enough to take the form of a fool’s dragon.” Her heart sunk. Fain, her partner, could not have been kidnapped as a child; he did not deserve such a past. “He could have survived…”

“Remember the one who also escaped? The poor thing would attack anyone who looked at him the wrong way. We had to send him into the Ice Barrens to die, poor thing.” His blue eyes glinted with malice. “I heard Fain hurt another trainee during battle practise. Arnie said something about black dragons being evil.”

“He just scratched Arnie’s arm, it healed quickly like all shapeshifters’ wounds. Do not hint that he would harm me. I love him for his kindness.” She smiled; when he wasn’t with her, he could be found playing with the children. “He’s good with the little ones, though he is horrible at the game they play, tag was it called?”

“He’s run into me twice.” Jark crossed his arms.

“He always runs into someone or something when one of the children chases him. Usually a wall.” She chuckled at the image. “I think he does it on purpose, to make the children laugh.”

“He may be kind and gentle now. Yet when he finds out what happened to his tribe?” He took a step towards her. She stood still, stopping any further advance with an icy glare.

“He will stay here with us. He is happy with me.” Hatred resonated in her voice and emanated from her face, yet he still persisted. “Go away. I heal wounds and am averse to inflicting them. But I make an exception with morons.”

“You just tease, beauty…”

She felt his hand on her wrist; quickly she slapped her hand over his, locking his hand in place. She lifted her arm over her head and spun round gracefully, in one fluid movement she brought her arm down and with it Jark who still gripped her wrist.

She stared at his eyes, dark red with anger. Hers had not changed. Control your emotions, use speed and grace. Anger and rash actions will lead to your defeat.

“My mother taught me how to bring an attacker to the ground. She also taught me how to rip off the sword arm. Do not trifle with me.”

Jark stared for a moment, the red slowly changing into a dark blue. He got up and smiled to her as if nothing had happened, then walked off.

Nuria shook her head; Jark would not give up so easily. Likely he would try to aggravate her Fain into a fight. Hopefully he would resist the urge to punch the moronic shapeshifter in the face.

DiceGames: The Ratter

This is my first entry to Lady Antimony's DiceGames challenge; there will be one for every monday of September. You throw a dice and look up the corresponding prompt from Lady Antimony's list. The rules are here. For this week, I rolled number one: "You've woken up to discover you're a rat - what's happening?"

His little heart flung itself against his ribs like a bird in a cage. Smells and sounds befuddled his senses, everything was happening too fast. He had to change back, but found he couldn’t.

“Allera! Why are you doing this to me? Let me change back!” He squeaked upwards, hoping the sorceress would answer his plea, but she only laughed.

“This is your punishment, fool!” Her cold, green eyes stared down from high up. “I saw what you did.”

“But—”

“I will let you change back once you’ve found the hairpin I lost in the vegetable garden.” Her perfect lips formed a circle as she spoke, “Go.”

What good is being a shapeshifter when your magic can be blocked by a sorceress? He shook his pointy head. He should have left the first time this happened.

The shapeshifter in rat form scuttled under the backdoor. He stood for a moment, sniffing the air for cats or the neighbour’s ratter. Birds he couldn’t smell, he would just have to spot the shadow of the predator before the claws caught him.

Fighting down the urge to grab and eat the beetle that skittered past, he scurried to the far end of the vegetable garden. It wasn’t huge, but he would do better to be meticulous in his search. One row at a time he searched for the elusive hairpin.

Why does she even have one? Her silken brown hair didn’t need any adornments.

The hairpin wasn’t in the field of peas or in the row of beef tomatoes. Desperately he climbed onto a cabbage. His little claws sunk into the tender plant as he balanced on his hind legs.

Swaying back and forth atop the mound of green he failed to notice the shadow passing over him. A shrill cry alerted him; quickly he pulled his claws free and jumped to the ground.

Oh no, not a…

In a flurry of brown the little bird landed in front of him. Before he could run and hide, squeaky words burst from the grey beak: “She cast you out again! The Sorceress cast you out again!”

“Shut up, virra.” The stubby front legs were just long enough to cover his ears.

“I have a name, you know.” The bird mercifully fell silent for a moment.

“Shut up!” he shouted; the bird had opened its beak to speak again. The ball of feathers looked insulted.

“No, it’s Yeolde, and I have what you seek.” The bird held up a spindly grey leg, revealing a decorative hairpin. The thin claws holding the pin spread, but hairpin did not fall. “It’s stuck until you remove it, but you have to be severely annoyed.”

Rats did not communicate with facial expressions, but somehow he managed to convey the emotion to the virra.

“I see you are in the correct frame of mind. Take the thing; I need to earn my daily grain.”

He cringed at his pink foreleg; this wasn’t his true form. He had to change back soon, or the need to chew something, anything, would become overwhelming.

How other beings survived living in one shape was beyond his understanding. Likely ignorance kept them placate, stupidity in some cases. Allera the Sorceress was different; she was a powerful earth mage. She could encase herself in the life essence of an animal, thus becoming it. Although her magic was different from shapeshifter magic, the end result was much the same.

It had been her magic and the way she wielded it that had drawn him to her. He had been her apprentice for years, fetching herbs from deepest woods, taking care of the garden, keeping the house clean, all just to be close to her.

He squeezed himself under the door, the accursed pin held firm in his grasp. She waited for him, arms crossed across her chest.

“Go look for my ring,” she spoke without looking at him.

“Yes, exalted sorceress.” He sighed; she didn’t care to hear her real or her pet names when she was angry.

“Watch out for the cat.”

“Yes… Wait, the cat?” He froze, this was going too far.

“The neighbour’s cat has been skulking around. I’ll deal with the feline if he becomes too interested in you.” Stifled anger was clear in the tone of her voice.

“I am not going through this again.” Something in his voice moved her. Slowly she lowered her gaze, her arms falling down into her lap. “What exactly did I do wrong?”

“I saw how you looked at that bitch.” She looked away; he followed her gaze to the window. Outside a pitch-black rat-dog was busy digging.

“I may be able to take the form of a dog, but I am not interested in them!” He felt repulsed at the thought; him, a noble shapeshifter, able to take form of a wolf, looking lustily at a dog? Ugh. “Even if I were, I have you. You’re beautiful and talented in magic. I couldn’t believe my luck when you asked me ‘how do shapeshifters court?’”

He could feel the spell lifting from his shoulders. With joy he changed back into his true form, a human. He walked on two legs, he had hands again, and he could smile with his lips and kiss his lovely wife.

“You said the shapeshifters of the Southern Plains bring a piece of fresh meat to their loved one. But you didn’t live in the plains anymore.” She smiled, her eyes the colour of the forest lighting up. “Then you kissed me.”

Gently his arms slid around. Her cheek rested against his chest, so soft and warm. How she could have thought him stupid enough to look at another female, he could not understand.

“Don’t belittle yourself, dear wife,” he whispered into her ear. “The enchantment you cast has not faded.”

Friday Flash: Light and Dark

Another flash from Fain's life. This is a follow up to my previous friday flash, Alhena.

A rut was beginning to form on the soft summer ground as the shapeshifter in drake form stomped back and forth. The form was tough to achieve even with decades of practise; only a dragon form was stronger.

“I am Ragh, head of the Guardians of the Red Dragons,” the drake snorted, it’s threading slowly coming to a halt. “I’m the one responsible for whipping you weaklings into shape.”

Fain swallowed hard. This had been Alhena’s idea; he suspected the red dragon and his partner Nuria had plotted this together. It would keep him busy for two summers, but he would return home for the winters.

“You are not one of the Ruby Scales.” Ragh had stopped in front of him. Coal-black eyes stared at him from atop a blunt scaly snout. “Name and tribe?”

“I am Fain of the Leather Wing tribe. We guard the black dragons.” His fingers twitched as he fought the change. Whenever upset, his fingers would change into cold blue claws. In an animal form the change wouldn’t be formidable, but his ‘true form’ was human.

“Not the Shadows upon the Sun?” A black forked tongue slid from the maw, tasting the air for sings of lying. “Good. They should be hunted down for aiding the evil God in his war.”

Anger flared in Fain’s heart. He quenched it too late; Ragh had spotted the outrage on his face. A smooth, cold hand grabbed his hand and lifted the icy blue talons into view. Ragh studied the hand for a moment before speaking. “You feel strongly about the blacks. Most of them aren’t evil, I can give you that.”

He let Fain’s hand fall, looking into the young shapeshifter’s light brown eyes before continuing. “The children of dragons have four enemies: each other, giant ants, vampbirds and poachers, although you don’t see much of the latter nowadays. Some cruel single-form decided it’d be easier to capture our young and force them into the shape of dragon, and— Get up! You’ll face crueller things while protecting the dragons!” The old warrior grabbed a dark green panther by the scruff of the neck. He stared into the lidded eyes until they opened. “Are you cut out for this, boy?”

“Yes,” the panther spoke in a hiss. They stared at each other for a moment. Abruptly Ragh released his grip and the panther fell to the ground with a loud thud.

“Remember, when facing a human do not think of their wife and children.” A sharp talon drew a line across the dirty green throat. “Think of the dragons, or your kin if the lizards do not evoke loyalty. The dragons protect us during the Long Night. Without their aid, the creatures of the dark will slip into your homes, kill and eat your family. Some of them walk on two legs. Remember what they did to the—”

Ragh cast a look at Fain, shaking his head as he swallowed the words. Others were looking at him; pity mixed with apprehension. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ragh spoke first.

“Watch.” The arrow-shaped head came down to touch the scaly chest. Arms extended before him, two black claws reaching for each other until they touched. Power sparked in the air as the drake form shapeshifter drew the claws apart. Two shapes, one golden, the other black, formed in between. Wings grew from the backs, necks extended reaching for each other. Two legless dragons squirmed in the air for a moment before Ragh banished them.

“We shapeshifters cannot control the elements around us, our magic comes from the inside. But we can use the innate magic of the form we’ve taken: dragons can belch fire and sea serpents breathe water. We can also extend our magic outside of ourselves to create barriers and illusions. You are going to attempt the hardest illusion. It’s old Dragon Guard magic, used to scare off… pretty much anything.”

“Light and Dark?” The panther asked.

“Yes, you are going to create two dragons. Not real ones, were not reaching for divinity. Only illusions. But because of what we’re doing they’ll look and feel real. You are going to reach down inside of yourself and use what’s good, pure and such to create the dragon Light. Then comes the hard part: you have to fight down your revulsion and use the darker side of yourself to create Dark. Fain, you try first.”

Fain fell inside of himself with ease, he swam in the sweet memories of Nuria’s lips upon his, their first night together and her promise to be his.

From somewhere outside of himself he heard a faint raspy voice: “Remember the darkness.”

Regretfully he drew back. Elation still flowed through his veins; nothing was dark enough to drag him down. Without fear he plunged into the dark memories, thinking Nuria’s love could shield him from anything.

He was wrong.

Pain and fear struck him. There was a time when one always followed the other. He found a deep-rooted hatred for the humans who did this to him. He remembered demons, burning buildings and evil.

Opening his eyes for a second, he saw two dragons, both the size of a war steed standing before him. The other emanated a light from deep beneath its golden scales; a swanlike neck craned above, warm eyes stared down at him. Light. The dragon next to it seemed to suck any light into the blackness of its skin. It was the embodiment of all the pain he’d suppressed. Dark.

I want to forget! The loss of his memory had been a blessing. Something horrid had happened during those years he did not remember. I will forget!

“Are you alright?” A myriad of faces stared down at him, foremost Ragh’s ugly visage. His carrion breath made Fain choke on the words, but he managed to spit them out.

“I am not using that spell ever again!”

Yet he knew he might have to. At the end of training he would vow to die for the dragons. Facing a few suppressed memories should have been easy, but he would rather face death than the horrors he’d seen.

Friday Flash: Alhena

This is a sort of a follow-up to my previous friday flash, The Hands of the Healer.


The red dragon stared down at the shapeshifters, scarlet eyes studying them. Slowly its massive head came down upon the soft ground and the newly born flowers. A puff of smoke rose from its nostrils as the dragon snorted in disgust.

“What have they been feeding you, Fain? You’re skinnier than the trees in winter.” Her eyes fixed on the male shapeshifter she’d found wandering in the woods a month ago.  He was in human form again. One reason shapeshifters liked their human forms was because it allowed for expressive body language, such as the ‘palm against the face’ gesture she now witnessed.

“Alhena, I’m a shapeshifter, we don’t put on weight. And I’m not skinny.” Lines appeared on his forehead as he shook his head. Alhena’s other favourite, Nuria, placed her hands on Fain’s shoulders and kissed his cheek.

“He’s slender, yet strong. Looks hide more than they show with shapeshifters.”

“You’re all puny to me,” Alhena chuckled. Her eyes shifted from Fain to Nuria. “Has he had a bath?”

“What?” Before Fain could object further red scaly feet had circled him. A black tongue slid out of the dragon’s maw, it lolled there as she smiled wickedly.

Nuria laughed, a trilling sound that echoed across the field. It ceased slowly and was replaced by an apologetic smile. Alhena ignored it; she drew her tongue back into the mouth and concentrated on staring down the shapeshifter in her grasp.

“Change into a dragon pup so clean I can you properly.” She blew a puff of smoke out of her nostrils. Fain coughed, but the teasing did not break his resolve.

“No, you are not cleaning me.”

Alhena harrumphed; all youngsters were alike. “I’ll just clean your face…”

“What? No!”

Once satisfied, Alhena set her claws aside, releasing the slightly upset shapeshifter. Nuria gave him a short kiss and went in search of herbs. Fain used the opportunity to ask Alhena if she had found any information on why he’d been wandering in the woods.

“I have searched for villages. I found the sister-village of the Green Jaws, but that is a long way from the spot I found you. There is also a human village north of where I found you, but again, it is too far away to walk from in human form. If you had taken the form a fool’s dragon however…” Alhena shook her massive head. Most humans knew better than to abduct shapeshifters and try to hold them captive. However, there were exceptions. “There is one village near the place, but it is burned down. Good I say it is the dark village where evil things happened. You would remember had they taken you captive.”

“But I must have been held captive somewhere, in my last memories I was younger than I am now. Maybe they used a spell on me?” Fain was intent on getting answers. Why, the dragon did not know; he was perfectly happy here and Nuria had agreed to go with him to the Leatherwing tribe. Nothing was amiss with him, except for the memory loss.

“You remember your parents and your tribe. A spell would erase everything.” She lifted her head from the ground and tilted it to the side a little. The small ones were a strange folk. Even the eldest seemed to know as little as a dragon’s pup. “You should let sleeping dragons lie.”

“Yes, I’m not sure if I want to remember anymore.” He slumped down on to the young grass of summer. “I just want to go home. I wish Sera were ready to take on Nuria’s duties, but it’ll be next summer at the earliest.”

Alhena opened her jaws to speak when three dragon pups shot into view. Two big ones chased a smaller one, likely the last-hatched sibling. Before shapeshifters and dragons made a pact to protect each other, the pups would often kill their weaker siblings. It happened mostly by accident during rough play, but sometimes it was intentional.

“Play nice!” Alhena shouted, then returned her attention to the shapeshifter, but he was staring at the dragonlings. The big ones had cornered the little one against a boulder; with bared teeth they closed in on the terrified dragon pup.

“Aren’t they… Hey!” One of the bigger dragonlings had lunged at the smaller one, knocking the creature down. The dragon pup grabbed its neck and began throttling the small dragonling.

“Stop that!” Fain shouted at them. The attacker snorted and carried on humiliating its small kin; the other one turned to face him. Puffing up and spreading its tiny wings the dragon hissed:

“Puny shapeshifter, you couldn’t harm a gnat in that form.”

Fain stood still for a moment, his eyes locked on the small dragonling. The dragon pup gave a faint yelp of pain. Fains lips curled back into a snarl, revealing a row of sharp teeth. White leathered wings burst from his back as he fell onto all fours. His feet curled into hoofs while his hands sharpened into talons. His neck grew longer and his head changed into that of a dragon.

“And in this form?”  His white wings spread wide; the thick scaly tail hit one of the boulders, sending it hurtling down the hillside.

“Eep!” Was all the dragonlings said as they ran. The small one stood up and fled as well.

“You would be a good guardian,” Alhena smiled and the fool’s dragon looked up in surprise. “It would give you something to do while Sera is learning Nuria’s craft.”

“I’ll think on it.” Fain folded his wings, then shook off the bits of torn cloth off him. “I just don’t like bullying. It’s evil.”

Alhena beamed, but kept it hidden beneath her scaly visage. Just as I planned. The head of the dragons’ guards will require his services and he will not want to leave when he sees the red dragon pups. The others have nothing on them when it comes to cuteness.

Have to remember to reward my pups for the show.

Friday Flash: The Hands of the Healer

Fain gingerly opened his eyes, he saw a pair of dark brown eyes and a brown face, framed by a tumble of black locks. His eyes wandered down to her lips.

I am dead or dying, one or the other, it makes no difference. His muscles ached and complained as he raised himself and kissed her soft lips. Her hands, rough and strong, pushed him back down.

“Rest now, court me later.” Her smile was teasing; he longed to even feel the brush of her lips against his, but fatigue claimed him. His dreams were filled with her.

“Shapeshifters can choke.” Her eyes watched intently as Fain drank the mixture of water and Healing Tree resin. “Drink slower. You are not going anywhere for a while.”

I don’t want to go anywhere, he thought; the sweet, syrupy liquid stuck to his throat and he started coughing. She patted him gently on the back and gave him a knowing look.

“I suppose you should know the name of your saviour. Alhena saw you wading through the snow all alone.” She cocked her head, dark eyes full of questions. “I’ll take you to her later, so you can thank her.”

“I will.” Fain smiled; he would have surely died if the dragon had not led members of the Ruby Scales to him. But wandering the woods and nearly starving to death was worth finding her.

“Alhena is not your typical dragon,” she chuckled, her hand pushing a stray hair off his face. “She’s a very mothering type. You’d do well to be groomed and well-fed before seeing her.”

Fain flattened some of his unruly hair, but she grabbed his hand and laid it down on the bed. She sat next to him and began combing his hair with her slender fingers. Her mouth was agonizingly close as she spoke, “She will nag the warriors to no end if you don’t seem well cared for.”

“I am well cared for! I’ve never felt better in my life.”

“You are still weak, yet you’ve never felt better?” Her nose nuzzled against his neck. “I wonder why that is.”

Fain felt his face flush red. He tried to change his colour back, but his emotions were in a tangle.

“I am Nuria of the Ruby Scales. My mother is Kartane of the lands beyond the Stormy Sea. My father flew with the dragons and came back with my mother.”

“I am Fain of the Leather Wings. Duro is my father, Taly my mother. Her mother—”

“I know. Veetra flew with the dragons.” Her hand touched his cheek lightly, turning his head to face hers. Red scales adorned the curves of her cheek bones. Fain drew back his hair, revealing black scales running down the nape of his neck. “We both have dragon seducers in our family.”  

He ran the tips of his fingers along the smooth scales on her cheek. They felt warm to the touch, warmer than her soft skin. They seemed to radiate the fire of the dragons. Nuria’s fingers caressed the black scales that adorned his neck. Her hand cupped the back of his head, drawing him closer. He froze for a moment, but her lips upon his quickly melted away any fear that resided in his mind.

The story continues: Alhena

7 virtues: Humility

Snow crunched beneath Duro’s paws, cold clutched at him, but his bloodlust kept him moving. The human was near.

Duro was the only one left of the search party, the others died of the poison. He would hunt down the humans who dared kill shapeshifters and kidnap the children.

The prey was sleeping; with a leap he was upon the human, pinning him down.

“This human might not be one of them…” He sniffed the shivering body, but smelled only fear. He could not determine his innocence. ”Perhaps I’m not the one to decide over matters of life and death.”