A Dragon's Enemy

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The legend of their origin had been passed down for centuries as a story to keep kids in line, but most everyone knew they were true. When humans were the kings of the world, they were cruel toward any and all living things. The earliest humans had little regard for safety, even their own. So much death plagued the planet that the once lush and wild lands were turned into trash cans for humans. The gods who existed in the sacred Mountains and Oceans saw that humanity had no remorse for their actions, and combined the vile aspects of their domains, such as the cold-blooded nature of the ocean’s creatures and the fire from the mountain cores. They used these attributes to form beings, called dragons, capable of curbing the human’s rapid development once injected into the lands that were beneath the Mountains but above the Oceans, called the Valley.

As expected, humanity was unprepared for such a threat, and quickly fell victim to their attacks. Over the next hundred years, humans were almost driven to extinction, until a group of men and women made it their mission to stop the brutal treatment of dragon hives and other living things. With every attack they stopped, there were fewer raids on human towns. Eventually, a truce was formed in the hives of dragons and the minds of humans. Mutual safety from the other, so long as the humans grew to respect their surroundings. It took years of work and training, but eventually the hostility between humans and dragons was eliminated. Perhaps you could even think of them as friendly, considering humans cared for dragons all over the continent in artificial hives.

Most people believed the stories, and Avalon Mast was grudgingly one of them. She wasn’t convinced about the gods, but she could surely see how dragons and humans fought in the old days. She was speaking from experience, obviously. As of this very moment, she was dodging the lunges and fire breath of a rampaging dragon. Anything in his sights was an immediate target at the moment, and Avalon had been hired to calm him down just as she had been eight times in the past month. His name was Breaker, probably for the spirits of tamers he’d broken, as well as their bones. Breaker was nothing but trouble. This past month, he’d been growing more than usual, meaning he was maturing and having more extreme mood swings. The smallest thing could set him off, but there was nothing small about his outbursts. Usually, that meant nearby brush and trees were set ablaze, but today he had escalated into torching two of his caretakers as well. Luckily, there had been a fresh barrel of water delivered, but Avalon really didn’t know what could have happened to make him this upset.

She did know he couldn’t be allowed to stay like this, so she had to do something fast. Before she could even begin to think of something, Breaker’s claws came at her face. She leaped backward in alarm, but her shirt was caught on his talons and it ripped. As she dashed away, she noticed the three gashes in the fabric just below her ribs and thought to herself, "those will be easy to fix later.” However, she was growing tired of running from Breaker, so she should probably get this mission over with.

As a senior member of the Order of Wrath, she shouldn’t really have been hired out for such a low profile mission, but the caretakers liked her so much that they wouldn’t take anyone else. It didn’t matter much anyway, because judging by the people she had talked to, she wasn’t missing much. Apparently, there weren’t any missions being assigned as of late. Although low crime rates were generally a good thing, a complete absence of it gave Avalon a bad feeling that something big was brewing. But for right now her current problem was Breaker, and she would deal with that other stuff later.

Usually, she could apprehend the big guy by cautiously approaching him with his favorite treat while his caretaker tied his legs and wings, but she didn’t think he would let her today, judging by how jumpy and generally hateful he’d been. That meant she’d have to trick him into trapping himself. What a pain. Getting close to Breaker was difficult because he had a tendency to lash out without hesitation, so she would have to be careful. Luckily, the rest of the dragons had been evacuated from the area for the time being, meaning Avalon had the entire main field of the hive to herself.

“Hey, would you mind just keeping him distracted for a couple minutes?” She waved one of the spectating caretakers over, who took up trying to run away from him and diverting his attention from Avalon. She abandoned the area, instead wandering over to an empty space on the opposite side of the field. What could she possibly do? He wasn’t even letting anyone get close. He had never been this angry before. Was he provoked in some way? The caretakers couldn’t do that without risking their job. Perhaps something happened while the caretakers weren’t looking. Regardless, she didn’t have a lot of time to think about the cause of the problem. All that could be done now was fixing it. Or at least postponing it.

What could she use around here? As she scanned her surroundings, Avalon noticed only a few items she could work with. There were hooks hanging from the rafters and maybe about forty yards of rope. A net trap. That could work. Breaker hadn’t fully matured yet. Forty yards might just be able to form a haphazard emergency net, although it definitely was not Avalon’s ideal plan. From a short glance back to Breaker, he was getting angry, starting to blow more flames at the caretakers as they shrieked and fled.

She worked as quickly as she could. Unintended casualties were generally frowned upon, and it could lose her the flawless record of missions she worked so hard for. It took more than a few tries to get the rope threaded through the rafter hooks, but after cutting the rope into sections with her dagger and crossing them over one another, she ended up with a decently crafted net. Finally, she dusted her hands off and jogged over to the rest of the caretakers.

“Is there any chance you have something that Breaker would want, a lure of some kind?”

“Over there,” a woman pointed. “There’s a barrel of fresh fish, delivered just before you arrived,” she said urgently. Lucky them. Avalon’s plan could work without it, but she was dreading doing it without those acting as a buffer. Perks of living on a coast, she guessed.

“That’ll do. Can I count on you all for some help?” After no objections, Avalon explained the plan.

Breaker was more terrifying up close, Avalon realized. He wasn’t even chasing her yet and her stomach felt like it was doing barrel rolls. She took a deep breath and made the first move. With a sickening slap, the first fish she threw at him landed flat against his scales. He turned to look at her, but she was already sprinting away as fast as she could, two armfuls of fish flopping in her grasp. Every so often, she threw one over her shoulder, hopefully away from her path. She even spared a glance behind her once, but after seeing his yellowed teeth that close, she decided she regretted it. Finally, she had reached the net. She threw her last fish into the center but continued running.

“Now! Pull!” Avalon shouted. The twelve caretakers who had taken up positions on the loose ends of rope that were threaded through the rafters and connected to the net began to heave. Avalon attempted to dive off the edge of the net, but she miscalculated how fast the net would move up with the extra hands. Her foot caught in one of the holes in the net and she now hung upside down just feet away from Breaker’s mouth. He seemed like he wanted to snap at her boot, but he had a mouthful of fish to swallow before he could. With shaking hands, she pulled herself up to free her foot and right herself, before dropping to the ground. Her legs nearly gave out from the impact, but she still had to lug over four full barrels to relieve the caretakers from their posts.

After everything was properly secured, she fell to the ground in relief. Breaker seemed much less angry sitting in the net. As with anything in the hive, the rope they used was fireproof so even the few sparks he sent from his nostrils dissipated harmlessly. As she was studying him, a caretaker with a large beard approached her and extended an arm to help her up.

“Thank you, Avalon. I don’t know what we would have done without your net. By the time we came up with something ourselves, Breaker would have burnt down half the hive,” he said with a hearty chuckle.

“That’s very kind of you sir. If I may ask, what’ll you do with him now? He can’t just stay up there forever, can he?”

“Oh, I figure we’ll let him down eventually. We’ll just let ‘im cool off and then he can come back down and play with his old buddies,” the man said simply. His eyes lit up in realization and he exclaimed, “I almost forgot to give you your payment!” He placed five gold pieces into her hand from his pocket. She started to leave and waved back at him. “Goodbye, Avalon! See you again next time!”

Avalon truly hoped there wasn’t a next time. Every time Breaker went on a rampage, he put the hive, and by extension, the whole city in danger. Not to mention, she was getting bored of taking care of a dragon with anger issues. She’d done much more…interesting things in her time in the Order and she couldn’t help but miss them.

She trudged through the streets, her muscles already feeling weak and mushy. Avalon usually preferred to complete her missions with her brain, dagger, and the element of surprise instead of her frankly lacking athletic abilities. Nonetheless, the walk back through the city was boring as usual. Of course the trek was long, because even though the dragon hive and the Order headquarters were both located on the outskirts of Clerveil, they were on opposite sides. She knew the city like the back of her hand because she’d lived there her whole life, even before being inducted into the order. It was pretty, if not a tad suffocating. Little houses and little shops were crushed together between little cobbled streets crowded with merchants and carts. Avalon waved at a petite woman named Rosamund selling fruits and vegetables. Rosamund had always been kind to her, lowering her prices when she came along to buy food, but Avalon wouldn’t consider them friends. They just had a friendly business relationship.

After living in Clerveil for years, she honestly felt like she just needed some fresh air. Otherwise, she might just go crazy living here until the day she died.

As she passed straight through the middle of town, she reached the Ciral Plaza, the exact center of Clerveil. Anything you could possibly think of had probably been sold there in a pop-up shop or by a traveling trader at some point or other. Hundreds of citizens of surrounding villages ventured from their homes to buy and sell their goods in this plaza. Avalon herself had fond memories here, playing with long lost dear friends or chasing birds. She stopped in front of the city-wide notice board in the center. Everything was familiar to her at first glance. Some of those worn and faded flyers had been up for years, telling of jobs hiring apprentices and lost dogs. However, a glint of color finally caught her eye. In the bottom corner was a notice that looked much more vibrant and recent than the others. Its bold red lettering told of suspicious activity around the dragon hive. It was a warning of an attempted attack on Clerveil’s dragons, with the advice to keep an eye out.

Avalon had to remember to breathe. There hadn’t been an attack in centuries. All the work that they’d done to build up their coexistence with dragons, just thrown away with a few more attacks. And Avalon was sure there would be more. This could turn out to be bad for everyone, humans and dragons alike. Their truce was an unspoken rule between the species due to an obvious lack of an ability to communicate. That shaky trust was all humanity had left, and everyone knew what would happen the day one decided to antagonize the other.

Another thought crossed her mind. If this flier was posted recently, perhaps in the last few hours, it was possible Breaker had been attacked. He was likely shaken up and went on a rampage after the attackers left. Maybe they tried to injure him in some way but failed and decided to cut their losses in order to try again later. No, this was not good news. Avalon was positive this would come to the Order of Wrath’s attention at some time or other, she only hoped it would be soon and to her. Even if she wasn’t particularly fond of dragons, this upset of daily routine could mean disaster.

While her stomach settled, she remembered her journey. It wouldn’t be long now, but she was anxious to return home. She forced herself to pick up her pace, but only slightly.

If you’d asked Avalon about the remainder of her walk home she would have been at a loos for words. Maybe she was too tired to think, or maybe she was thinking too much about the news, but it was like she’d blacked out. But finally, she reached the Order’s base of operations. Its exquisitely expensive-looking style made it look more like a mansion, probably because that’s what it was meant to be. Swirling carvings danced up the marble pillars and the rich magenta roof was lined with gold. In Avalon’s humble opinion, it was just a little showy for her tastes, but it was her home. Waymon Rolfe had taken her into the Order as the third member when she was barely six years old, and she had lived there ever since. He owned the entirety of Penningchild Estate and rented out his spaces and guest rooms in exchange for labor. He signed a contract with all his tenants, in order to keep them in line and under his thumb. In fact, Avalon’s contract was active until her eighteenth birthday, only two years from now. Per the rules, members of the Order were allowed to live under Rolfe’s roof as long as they did his dirty work for him, the missions he received from clients all over the continent. Avalon didn’t start working until she was ten years old, instead working on her training so she could be useful to the Order once she was older. However, since she’d started, she completed over two hundred and fifty missions ranging from murder and burglary to missions like the one she did today. She’d been here longer than almost anyone, and she was of course a favorite agent of Waymon Rolfe. He was something of her guardian, offering her a spot in the Order to get her off the streets. He’d raised her into someone ruthless. As shady as he seemed, she owed him a favor, a mistake she would never make again.

When she entered the foyer of the estate, it was almost as if she could feel the tension in the room. She knew she had this effect on people, obviously. It was simply pleasant to see it for herself again. A few people loitered on each of the grand marble staircases to either side of where she was standing, while others watched her from the couches in the rooms off to both sides, as if they thought she couldn’t feel their sticky gazes. She could hear her boots clacking against the tile as she ventured past the arch that sat between the staircases. Echoes bounced from wall to wall, only amplified by the silence she had caused. Avalon had returned just in time for dinner so she wasn’t the least bit surprised when most of the Order had already gathered in what was supposed to be the ballroom. Due to the number of members, it had to be modified into a dining hall. She wasn’t in any rush, so she strolled through the ranks of men and women who were practically paralyzed in her presence until she reached her usual table. It was exactly as she wanted. It seated only two and was nestled in the corner, away from the rowdiness of any brawls that might break out in the middle of meals. And as expected, seated in the other chair was the only real friend she had made in the Order, Cecelia Finnegan.

Cecelia was younger than her, and definitely didn’t belong with the Order. She was much too happy and bright for the gloomy and deadly Pennington Estate. She was smart though. At only fourteen years old, she was an expert in most brews and elixirs that could even be fathomed. If you asked the right questions, she might be even persuaded to help you with an illegal brew, so long as you kept quiet. She made her own recipes too, always experimenting with random objects she found on estate grounds. Avalon was somewhat perplexed by her. Cecelia had killed people, even if indirectly. From her understanding, her deal with Rolfe was different. She made the required elixirs from the safety of the estate, and he sent someone else to administer them where they were needed. Not all of those missions were innocent, and yet a young, naïve girl like her could meet Avalon every night at dinner with a smile on her face. She pulled out her chair and unraveled her silverware from the napkin and placed it on her lap. Not everyone in this hall adhered to manners, but she liked to think herself better than them anyway.

“I hope you don’t mind that I already ordered for you. I thought the choice was obvious between the cod and the crocodile,” Cecelia told her.

“Yes, I think you’d be right. I don’t think I’m in the mood for adventurous choices tonight anyway,” Avalon murmured in response as she traced circles in the tablecloth. Cecelia hummed in response.

“Just one of those days I suppose? Did you hear-”

“The news? Unfortunately. I passed a flier on the way home, warning Clerveil to watch out for a follow up,” Cecelia twirled her short blond hair next to her ear, as if in thought.

“But weren’t you working at the hive this afternoon? Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“Actually, I think-” Avalon was interrupted by a loud man on the other side of the ballroom laughing raucously.

“Didn’t you see her, mate? She looked puny! I bet I could beat her with just my left hand in ten seconds flat! It doesn’t matter how long she’s been here if she’s just a kid,” he howled. Avalon turned her head to see a muscular man standing and pointing directly at her. The men at his table tried to pull his arm down, but he shoved them off.

“Cecelia, looks like another one of these new guys needs to be taught a lesson,” she whispered. Cecelia nodded sagely.

“If she wants to prove herself, she can come over here and take me in a fight, y’ear me?” He was obviously intoxicated. He slurred his words, and he kept swaying where he stood. Nevertheless, Avalon would fight him, show off, teach him a lesson, then hopefully sit down to eat. She was starving after all, but apparently work wasn’t over even after she got paid.

As she weaved through tables, she could hear the mumbles expressing their pity for the man and giggles amongst friends. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but who could possibly deny such a direct challenge? She reached his table and he turned to face her. The pink flush over his entire body made him look like he’d been in the sun too long, and he had a clear look of superiority on his face. He pulled his shirt off and threw it back toward his table. He shot her a cocky grin and she narrowed her eyes. Guys like this were the worst kind. She’d dealt with loads of the type easily. The trick was just to make them think they have the upper hand. His arrogance would be his downfall.

“Oh, little girl’s come to play after all!” He clapped his hands, and he almost reminded her of a toddler. “Don’t look so glum, after you lose, you’ll have plenty of time to forget this whole thing and go find a job better suited for little girls. Like cleaning,” he burst into another round of rowdy laughter, but otherwise, the room was deadly quiet.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep my job just fine, but you might have to worry about more than a job after I’m done with you,” she smiled sweetly at him. He shrugged, but pointed at her belt.

“We’ll do this fair, ‘kay? I don’t have any weapons, so take that dagger off,” he nearly fell over after leaning too far to the right. Avalon really hadn’t been planning on using the dagger anyway, so shrugged and removed it along with her cloak. She had thought the dagger was concealed by the folds of her shirt and cloak, but maybe she’d accidentally revealed it somehow. Or perhaps he was smarter than she gave him credit for.

He looked satisfied and beckoned her closer with a smug look on her face. Once she moved close enough to strike, he charged. She dodged easily, only taking a step to the side. He looked shocked, like that was his finishing move. She blanched at the thought that she even considered he had any intelligence. He turned to her and kept throwing meaningless and frankly weak punches, to which she just kept walking backwards.

“Are you really running now? That’s not how an elite member of the Order of Wrath fights,” he grunted in between breaths. Was he really tired from just a few hits that hadn’t even landed? She kept stepping backwards until an empty chair was behind her. She stepped up, avoiding a right hook by swerving out of the way. The man tutted, clearly convinced he’d won. He backed up and charged at her. She stepped onto the table behind her and when he looked close enough, she simply jumped over him. He crashed into the table , sending the plates and cutlery flying as he grasped at nothing. He fell to the ground, doubled over, and all it took for Avalon to knock him out and end the fight was a simple hit to the back of his head. She walked away, stooping to pick up her discarded items and whistling the whole way.

Sauntering away, she made eye contact with the only member of the Order who’d been here longer than she had, after the other original member died in a mission. Cyan Crane had always been kind, letting her watch his personal training when she was too young to participate and treating her like a little sister. He’d also been young when entering the Order, around eighteen, meaning Avalon had always felt a deeper connection with him than any of the other men she’d met back then. He gave her an approving smile and nod. She winked at him in response.

Finally back at her table, she grinned at Cecelia. Honestly, having such a reputation seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. “Routine stuff, really,” she shrugged.

“Yes, I was hoping for more of a fight, I must say,”

“I felt bad, completely and totally humiliating a man who could barely stand anyway,” she laughed and settled into her chair once again. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to let you know I did notice something interesting at the hive,” she said good-naturedly.

Later, she decided Cecelia was right about the cod, seeing those who had picked the crocodile gag at just the stench. Cecelia told her about the potions she’d been asked to make that day for others in the Order, leading to some extremely interesting revelations about people she previously respected. Most people kept their voices down for the rest of the meal, and Avalon was able to eat without incident. However, when she left to go upstairs to her room, not one member of the Order could look her in the eye. Just the way she liked it.