Arrow

Arrow flew high over the forest towards the uncontrolled blaze that caught her eye from the mountains. Smoke billowed so black and thick it masked the dark clouds on the horizon of the moonlit sky. Fire meant the possibility of other dragons, the likes of which she had not seen after the Bestial War nearly 2 years ago when all magical creatures were hunted.

Cries filled the air as Arrow neared the fire. She lowered herself into the vast forest below, branches snapping against her scales. She landed softly so as not to shake the ground. She could see the fire through the tree line 50 meters ahead, a small village burning, under siege in the night. The men were separated from the women and children, but all were shackled in rows.

“Sir Razzia, we found him.” A tall man emerged from a house, dragging a pleading villager to the row of shackled men.

“Harboring a thief is a crime against the kingdom. You will all pay for his crime now,” said a thick man with a raised scar stretching across his cheek.

The scarred man, Sir Razzia, ushered the men into a tumbleweed wagon, slamming and locking the door behind them. Memories flooded Arrow’s mind, and she recalled seeing Sir Razzia locking her parents in a similar wagon the day they were captured from their cave on the riverbank. Arrow, 13 years of age at the time, had woken up early to hunt and returned to the cave undetected, sparing her from capture. The fear in her parent’s eyes haunted her, and she remained in isolation for fear of her own capture. This new venture from her mountain cave had been a long shot, and dangerous, but nightmares of her parents’ capture grew more frequent and loneliness had taken hold of her.

Arrow stepped closer to the burning village. The flames reflected in her pupils and spread throughout her irises. A branch cracked loudly under her weight and she paused, waiting for reactions from the knights, but the chaos in the village muffled it. A soft cry behind her broke her concentration.

Craning her neck around, the fire in Arrow’s eyes extinguished and adjusted to a view of a small boy whose white shirt and cloth diaper hung tattered and stained with the dirt in which he stood. An image of a similarly small boy standing near the riverbank flickered in her mind’s eye, then quickly faded. She turned and stretched her wings slowly. The boy’s cries grew more frantic. Arrow’s body crunched forward, a small backpack and weapons belt falling from one of her horns. Her scales dissipated into skin. Her legs elongated and her spiked tail sunk into her back, forming the ridges of her vertebrae. Fingers broke through her shriveling wings, and within minutes a girl stood before the toddler. She clothed herself with a wardrobe from her backpack, donned her weapons, and strode toward the boy.

“Hush now. There’s nothing to fear, and you must be quiet.” She bent over the boy and put a finger to his lips.

They waited in the forest as the army finished setting fire to the houses and departed to the west. With the toddler in her arms, she snuck passed engulfed houses toward the village center where a large well sat. Arrow placed the boy on the ground and returned her attention to the well, hovering her hands above its mouth. Water blasted up, shattering the bucket and wooden roof. Arrow spun, hands thrown forward, and the wall of water followed, smothering the flames around her. The boy started crying again, and she turned to him.

“You must be quiet or they’ll return,” she said sternly, again putting a finger to his mouth. The boy’s lip quivered.

“Ugh! I’m not good with children.” She lifted him from the now muddy Earth and bounced him on her hip. “Do you want to know how I did that?” she asked, attempting to soothe him. “My mother is part mermaid and my father is part dragon. Just like me, they can transform between human and creature. I can manipulate both water and fire, but because of the mermaid part, I can only generate and breathe fire when I see.”

The boy stared.

“I don’t even know how to talk to you let alone take care of you, but I can’t very well leave you behind. So come. Let us see what the knights left us, shall we? Then we will set out after them so they will lead me to my parents. We’ll find a family or orphanage along the way, so they can take you off of my hands. You’ll be better off with anyone but me.”

Arrow entered each house, combing through the debris. She found an empty flask in one and, returning to the well, funneled the water from its walls into the flask. In the final house, she found a baby sling, which she slipped across her body and placed the child inside. Arrow stumbled as she turned to leave. She knelt down to dust the ash off the culprit, a painting of a family that lay on the broken floorboards: man, woman, elder boy of about 6 years, and an infant in the woman’s arms.

A memory flashed in her mind of her as a child, maybe 7 years of age, with her family. They were all in their human forms. She was sitting on her father’s lap and her 2-year-old brother was squirming in her mother’s arms. She vaguely remembered them laughing at her brother chatting away in mostly indiscernible sentences. Then a series of memories cascaded through her head: her brother standing near the river; her mother telling her to watch her brother while they went out and hunted; her father scooping her brother’s limp body from the water; her mother crying in her father’s arms.

“Ma,” the boy said, pointing to the woman in the picture.

Arrow wiped her eyes.

“Is this your family?”

The boy didn’t respond.

“What’s your name?”

No response.

“You’re not making this any easier for me. I’ll just call you Beau. Come. We must go.”

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Arrow’s legs burned from the walk and her back ached from carrying Beau. She thought about giving up numerous times; after all, she had already lived 2 years without her parents, and she was practically grown now. Then she noticed a glimmer of light on the horizon. She focused on the light, the flame again reflecting in her eyes. She could see it clearly now, a campfire surrounded by a host of sleeping soldiers on a grassy hill about a mile away. Two guards kept watch to the east and west. The fire in her eyes dissipated.

“We’ll rest here for the remainder of the night,” she whispered to the already sleeping boy.

The grass from the river valley turned to sand about high noon the next day, a desert mountain landscape filling her view for the remainder of the day. While in the morning, she was able to lift dew from the grass to refill their flask, this terrain held no signs of water.

Beau reached for the flask, but Arrow knew it was empty. He seemed to be a generally happy kid, but thirst made him fussy. Arrow tried summoning the remaining drops of water from the flask, but it was to no avail. Beau's cries turned to screams, which filled the night air. So did the shouts of men.

Arrow frantically tried to calm him, but nothing worked. She packed up and ran in the opposite direction, but her legs were tired and the boy weighed her down. She thought about leaving him there because she was of no use to him or anyone else if she were captured. He was better off without her anyways. But what would the knights do to him? They would not kill him, but two decades from now he could be the one hunting her, brainwashed by the kingdom against magical creatures. He was surely not better off with her, but she was better off keeping him for the time being. She would get to safety, and then find someone to take him off her hands.

“You there! Stop!” a voice yelled from behind, breaking her train of thought.

Arrow obeyed. She stopped running, dropped her backpack and clothes, and stretched her arms. Her vertebrae separated again into a tail and her wings reappeared. The boy hung in the sling from the dragon’s neck, and in one fell swoop, she snagged her backpack and weapons with one of her crownal horns and took flight.

“It’s a dragon!”

Arrow focused on the knights’ torches, flame enveloping her eyes once again until a rumble reverberated from her belly. The energy escaped her lungs, rushing up her throat, and she breathed a heavy stream of fire.

"Kill it!” Sir Razzia shouted as she flew over them.

They threw axes and spears, but Arrow flew higher and soon the commotion shrunk. The wind felt good on her wings and her legs finally found relief. Beau quieted too, soothed by the gentle flow of air and whooshing of Arrow’s wings.

As her adrenaline diminished, she notice a pain in her foot. A spear made residence and blood dripped from its end. She tried to ignore the pain and set her sights on the reemergence of grass and a mass of torches in the distance, signaling civilization, but she struggled to focus. Weariness took over once again and she faltered, teetering in the air. She gathered enough strength to concentrate, and her fear reappeared as she realized the torches belonged to the kingdom with its many soldiers, weapons, and hatred of magical creatures.

As she neared, Arrow noticed a smaller group of torches huddled north of the kingdom, and she descended onto a graveyard on the property of a small chapel. She transformed back into a girl and crawled, Beau in one arm, to edge of the graveyard. Her eyes felt heavy and she struggled to keep them open. Beau began to cry, but she couldn’t muster any more strength. All went black.

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Arrow awoke in a white room to an older woman unwrapping the wound on her foot. Arrow sat up quickly, shrinking away from the woman.

“Oh goodness!” The woman pulled back, wringing her left hand with her right. “It’s okay, child. You’re safe.” She reached for Arrow’s foot to pat it gently.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the Chapel Banlieue. I’m Margaret. My husband William and I run the chapel for travelers. You really gave us a fright last night. You regained consciousness for a minute or so but lost consciousness again when William cauterized your wound. You said you were seeking sanctuary from the knights?”

“Yes, they attacked the village... for... housing a thief. They took the rest of the villagers as prisoners, but Beau and I were hiding in the forest. Wait, where is Beau? Did I hurt him?”

“He’s safe and playing outside with John, our 3-year-old grandson. You didn’t hurt him, dear.” She paused. “But this will hurt a bit,” she said, placing a cloth soaked in vinegar on the wound.

Arrow winced. Margaret squeezed Arrow’s ankle to relieve some of the pain and began to hum. She placed honey on the wound for antiseptic and rebandaged it.

“What was that song you were humming?”

“It’s an old nursery rhyme my mother used to sing to me when I was sick or hurt.”

“I recognize it. My mother used to sing it to me when I too was younger. I remember she used to run her fingers through my hair and hum it to help me fall asleep.” Arrow’s smile quickly turned serious. “I need to go. I must reach the kingdom to find my parents.”

“What you must do now is rest. You have a serious wound that will take months to heal. Besides, I think Beau likes it here with John.”

Arrow looked down and picked at her fingers. “Beau is better off without me. You should keep him.”

“Keep him?” Margaret’s eyebrows raised and she pursed her lips. She took her left hand in her right and once more wrung them together. “You mustn’t really think he’s better off without you?” Margaret’s face softened and she sighed, shaking her head. She patted Arrow’s leg again. “No. I’m sure you’re a good sister. But I think both of you should stay put for a while and we’ll discuss this again when you’ve recovered.”

Arrow sat silently, still picking her skin.

“Why do you pick at yourself? That’s not good for you.”

“I’ve never really liked skin.”

Margaret laughed. “You’re a funny girl. Alright then. How about I bring your breakfast?”

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Two weeks passed during which time Margaret would clean the wound morning and night while humming the nursery rhyme. Arrow would close her eyes, listening as if it were her own mother singing to her again. Margaret would bandage the foot, and then stroke Arrow’s hair. Then Margaret would pat Arrow’s leg, depart to the kitchen, and return with a meal. But this morning was different.

“Breakfast is waiting in the kitchen. William cut this down for you,” Margaret said, handing Arrow a single wooden crutch. “I think getting out of bed will be a nice change for you to keep your strength. You are to use this crutch and put no pressure whatsoever on that foot.”

“I’m healed enough to walk?!” Arrow’s grin reached her eyes.

“Walk, yes. But don’t get ahead of yourself. You are not near healed enough to make the three hour’s journey to the kingdom. You must be patient. You are still welcome to stay here as long as you need, and...well I’ve rather enjoyed having another female in the house. But William and I are taking John to the kingdom today to buy supplies as we do every other week. We can procure whatever you need.”

“My clothes?” Arrow asked, looking down at the sheet hiding her undergarments.

Margaret pointed to a wardrobe in the corner of the room and turned to leave.

“Margaret.” Arrow looked down. “I’ve enjoyed it as well.”

Margaret smiled and left her to dress. Arrow clothed herself and then hobbled with the crutch down the hall to the kitchen. She consumed her breakfast eagerly, and Margaret urged her outside where Beau and John played ball with William, saying the fresh air would do her good as well.

Arrow sat in the grass, watching the boys run and giggle. She found herself laughing too. Looking around, she noticed a small strawberry patch on the side of the chapel. She used the crutch to help her stand up and teetered closer to the berries, reaching out to touch an impeccably red one.

“They’re ripe if you want to pick them,” Margaret called from the doorway.

“Let’s all help pick them. We have time before we have to leave,” William said.

William ushered the toddlers to the patch as Margaret entered the house and reemerged moments later with small bowls. Arrow picked a strawberry and gave it to Beau to try. She smiled at the joy that spread across his face. She was happy he seemed impervious to the horror of their escape from the village, and also happy she did not leave him that night.

“We should get on the road now. We’ll be back tomorrow evening, dear,” Margaret said.

Arrow knelt near Beau. She picked up his hand and waved goodbye to the departing wagon. Looking down at the ball Beau held pressed between his hand and ribs, she knocked it from his hands and hobbled after it, racing him. Arrow fell to the ground, laughing. She stretched her arms in the grass and longed to stretch her wings instead.

“Beau, I do not want you to be afraid.”

Arrow stretched her arms into wings and the remainder of her body transformed as well. Beau shrunk back, lip pouted. Arrow quickly pushed the ball around with her snout and bumped it over to Beau who laughed and kicked it back. They played together, dragon and boy, until Arrow grew tired. She rested on the grass, and Beau ran over and laid on her snout. She took a deep breath and snorted, blowing him down. He laughed and returned to her snout. She snorted again and he fell, laughing, only to return to her snout again and again. And so the cycle continued: the family would leave to the kingdom, Arrow would stretch her wings, and she would snort Beau off her snout in his new favorite game.

------------------------------ *5 months later* -------------------------------------

“Good morning!” Arrow sang as she entered the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help you with, Margaret?”

“Good morning, dear. Help me chop these vegetables we picked from the garden yesterday. I’m making a stew for the kingdom paupers so they too can enjoy the celebration for the king’s birthday tonight,” Margaret answered, pushing a wooden cutting board over to the basket of vegetables on the counter. “How did you sleep last night?”

Arrow didn’t reply. She looked down and picked at her fingers.

“What’s the matter?” Margaret asked.

“I’ve been thinking. I want to go with you to the kingdom.”

“We aren’t staying the night as we typically do. The kingdom becomes much too crowded during the King’s Feast.”

“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me... But I still need to find my parents, and I’m healed enough to travel.”

Margaret wrung her hands. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

“I’ll be careful and won’t let anything happen to Beau.”

“You’re taking him? You now believe he’s better off with you?”

“No, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I must take him with me. He will protect me as much as I will protect him. Who would suspect a girl and her young brother?”

Margaret sighed.

“Do not be sad. We’ll be back. I swear it.”

“I knew this day would come. I just hoped it would not come so soon. I cannot talk you out of it?”

Arrow shook her head.

“Then we will take you to the kingdom. William, John, and I will return to the chapel tonight, but please know you and Beau are always welcome here,” Margaret said, clasping Arrow’s hands.

“Thank you,” Arrow whispered as they embraced.

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The kingdom gates were open, welcoming travelers and merchants for the King’s Feast.

“I suppose this is where we part,” Margaret said.

Margaret’s eyes appeared puffier and her mouth curled down. She looked older.

“I will find my parents and bring them back to meet you.”

They embraced again before Arrow disappeared with Beau into the chaos of the market. They walked passed table after table of flowers; fruits; nuts; garments; and more, solicited at every corner. Arrow stopped at a table of strawberries, already missing Margaret, William, and John.

“Is that your baby?” asked a woman next to Arrow. She wore an extravagant blue dress with a golden, woven, cord necklace. A maid stood next to her holding a child of about 3 years.

“My brother, Beau. Our parents are no longer with us.”

“This is my son, Henry. His father, my husband, is the great Sir Razzia. And this is my maidservant. She is caring for Henry because my nursemaid is selfish and fell ill this morning, right before the celebration. Irresponsible girl.”

“Sir Razzia, you said?”

“Yes, Sir Razzia Barbus. And I am Lady Barbus. You know of him it sounds. Oh of course you do! He is the greatest of all the King’s men.”

Arrow had planned on finding Sir Razzia at the King’s Feast and following him home. She was prepared to torture him until he gave her answers, but luck was on her side, and playing to his ego would likely prove more effective, she thought. “My father told me grand stories of him and his captures,” Arrow lied, her heart racing with anticipation. “I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

Lady Barbus smiled, clearly honored by her husband’s reputation. She told Arrow of Sir Razzia’s recent conquests and that he was currently at the stage in the market area selling the new captures into servitude. She recommended they walk to the stage together as she was in need of a new nursemaid anyways.

“Let me help. You need someone to take care of Henry, and I already have experience taking care of Beau. This way you won’t need to worry yourself on such short notice, and you can focus solely on preparing yourself for the King’s Feast. And I’d be so honored to offer my service to the great Sir Razzia and his beautiful wife.”

The lady smiled again and agreed, knowing she would be busy with the festivities.

As Lady Barbus’ maidservant readied her for the feast that evening, Arrow fed Henry and Beau and put them down for a nap. Sir Razzia entered the house while the boys slept and the lady of the house bathed. He stomped up the stairs and walked passed the nursery to the bed chambers.

“Sir Razzia,” Arrow called, running into the hall.

“Let me be. I must rest before the evening’s celebration,” Sir Razzia said curtly without turning or slowing his pace until he entered his quarters.

“Please sir, my name is Arrow. My father, recently passed, told me grand stories of you and your quests. I believe you are the strongest and bravest of all the knights. Please, if I may be so bold as to ask you to regale me with a story. Just one? I heard about a dragon and mermaid you captured nearly 2 years ago in the mountain river valley, my favorite of your quests. Do you recall?”

Sir Razzia turned and sauntered toward Arrow with a smug smile.

“Of course I recall. My men and I tracked them from the river’s mouth. The dragon beast saw me first. He growled and attacked, knocking my mace from my hand. But he was no match for me. I wielded a large stone and crashed it against his skull, knocking him unconscious. The mermaid was easy to seize. Although she had transformed her tail into legs, she could not outrun me. I brought them back to the kingdom in order to sell them. Unfortunately, they resisted, injuring several civilians, and were ultimately put down.”

“They’re dead?” Arrow looked down at her hands and picked at her fingers, staring at the floor in a stupor.

“You mustn’t be upset. The world is a far better place without those beasts. I thought they were all done away with, but I saw a dragon in the sky about 5 months ago. The monster had stolen a young boy. I managed to spear its foot with impeccable aim as it flew overhead.”

“How brave you are to handle such creatures,” she said through gritted teeth. “What happened to the creatures after they were killed?”

“Well creatures like that don’t burn, something to do with their scales, so the only thing you can do is bury them and let nature take its course. There’s a chapel with an unmarked graveyard about a three hour’s travel from the kingdom. There the beasts are buried. But before they were sent away, I had the mermaid’s hair made into a woven necklace for my wife and had the skin of the dragon removed and made into a coat of armor for me. See here?” he said, swinging open the doors to the wardrobe.

Her eyes widened and filled with tears as she touched the grey scales.

“I shall leave you to rest now,” she said abruptly.

Arrow ran from the room and back to the nursery. She pulled her sword from its sheath, sobbing and breathing heavily, and resolved to kill Sir Razzia in his slumber. She would avenge her parents’ death, even if it meant losing her own life. The bed creaked and within minutes he began to snore. Arrow snuck back into his bed chambers and crept to the bed. She held the sword over his heart, the tip of the blade inches from his skin.

She stared at the sword, gripping the handle so tightly her hands turned white, mustering the courage to plunge it into his chest. In the nursery, Henry awoke and began crying in the other room. She ignored him, but his screams grew louder. Arrow looked to the door, listening for footsteps. The screams continued and Arrow returned her attention to the sword. She looked at his face and noticed his eyes were open and filled with rage. Startled, she stepped back, and Sir Razzia rose from the bed.

“You aim to kill me?” he spat. “Come then, try your best.”

Arrow lunged toward him. Sir Razzia swatted the sword away and backhanded her across the face, her sword clanking to the floor and her falling after it. He grabbed her ankles and pulled her to him. She flipped onto her back and kicked upward into his groin. He back peddled, breathless, and leaned onto the bed. Arrow scurried on the floor to the window behind her, using the sill to help her onto her feet.

"You’ve got fire inside you, that is for sure, but you will not win.”

“You have no idea the fire inside me,” Arrow snapped. “The beasts you spoke of earlier were my parents. The dragon you speared in the sky nearly 5 months ago, the one carrying the boy, was me. You killed my parents, you tried to kill me, and now I will kill you.”

Arrow quickly lifted her hand and motioned it toward Razzia; the water in the cup near the bed shot out and doused the side of his head. His brows raised, turning to the cup and back to Arrow.

“Fire isn’t the only thing inside me.”

Anger consumed him. He rushed toward her with arms outstretched as if to grab her throat. Arrow bent forward as he neared, evading his grasp, and used his momentum to flip him over her back. Sir Razzia crashed through the window and dropped to the ground below, unmoving. Arrow stood at the window as commotion brewed below.

“There. In the window. A girl,” a young man yelled.

“What’s this!” Lady Barbus screamed in the doorway. She rushed to the window, and Arrow stepped aside, allowing the lady to pass. She grabbed her sword and pointed it at the now weeping woman.

“Your necklace, give it to me. Now!”

Lady Barbus quickly removed the cord from around her neck. Arrow slipped the necklace over her head, stepped to the wardrobe, and grabbed the coat of scales.

“Where is the key to this room?” Arrow asked.

The lady pointed to a dresser, and Arrow left, locking the lady inside. She reentered the nursery where Beau sat contentedly and the maidservant Anna consoled Henry. Arrow wielded her sword and pointed it at the door, gesturing the servant to leave. Picking Beau up as she had the day they met, Arrow pulled his head into the nape of her neck and walked to the nursery window. She covered him with the scales and slid him into the sling around her neck.

Several boots stomped up the stairs, hurrying passed the nursery and to the locked bed chambers. Arrow arched her back, skin transforming into scales. Her clothes ripped off as her wings took shape and tail descending from her spine.

“The girl. She killed my husband. Her brother is in the nursery,” Lady Barbus yelled to the knights through the door.

The footsteps clomped back down the hall, and Arrow took flight, breaking through the window. The commotion below turned to screams as she flew away.

“There was a girl here just a minute ago,” said one knight. He looked at the ripped clothes near the window. “It’s the girl. The girl is the dragon! It’s headed west with the boy!

Arrow flew west for a time but only to divert the knights. Once out of sight, she turned northeast toward Chapel Banlieue. Arrow landed softly near the strawberry patch. She looked down at the sleeping child in her arms who rocked back and forth with each step. How peaceful he looked and so unaware of the danger she had brought upon him. He was truly better off without her.

Arrow nuzzled Beau’s stomach, gently waking him. A smile stretched across his cheeks as he recognized the area. Squirming from her arms, he ran circles in front of the door and yelled for William and Margaret.

“Is that Beau I hear?” Margaret’s voice called from within the house as candle light emerged from a second story room.

Arrow scooped Beau closer with her wing. She leaned her head forward and he reached for her snout. She closed her eyes, pressing gently into his small body. She opened her eyes and examined his face, lit with anticipation. She smiled, breathed in deeply, and snorted. The air blew Beau off of his feet, and Arrow took flight as Beau’s laughter filled the air.