Cinder Ashes

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Rush Valley was always known for its wildflowers and healing herbs, but now, there was fire. The change was swift and imminent. What was once a peaceful land became a place to fear. Most Rushers rejoiced at the shifting dynamics. Afterall, weapons always equated power, and now they possessed the greatest weapon known to man.

When the Great Awakening occurred in the form of Mount Scion erupting, the dragons emerged, untamed and ruthless. They were fearsome creatures that bowed to no man, but Rushers were not like the rest of their kind. While most clans sought to drain the terrain of her wealth, Rushers spent centuries cultivating her. This was the only explanation any could conceive as to why the beasts submitted to the once docile clan.

It was not, however, in each member’s nature to embrace the violent confidence that the Rushers were now infamous for, but there was little sense in anyone revealing that compassion. The clan, once ostracized by society, was eager to cast off all who diverged from the new way. Their favorite method of dismissal involved dragons.

This whirlwind history of her people is why Wink kept her mouth shut and head down. She knew how to ride a Seconte as well as any other Junior. Secontes, while large, were gentle in take-off, making them ideal for training young Rushers. Wink was even younger than typical Rushers who were Seconte-ready.

Wink also had the unfortunate ability to wield The Ten Commands with authority, as evidenced by how Secontes readily complied. The declarations were ranked in descending order in terms of ferocity. The Sixth-Tenth Commands ranged from knocking down objects to dispelling noxious smoke. Wink took to the exercise of declaring as easily as breathing. It surprised her and caused even the Instructor Chief Jarf to pay close attention to her wield-attempts. She soon found herself declaring the next set of Commands alongside Rushers twice her age. By the time Wink turned eleven, she had only to learn the First Command: Fire. This wield-attempt took considerably longer to master, not for lack of ability, but rather from an internal resistance. With dragons becoming more valuable than one’s own family, other pets and livestock were diminished to mere sustenance and practice-targets. Wink refused to see a calf become ash, but her suppression did not save any creature. Indeed, once Jarf understood what caused Wink’s hesitation, he vowed that every target Wink refused to wield-attempt against would result in the destruction of two: the one she attempted to spare and a creature of like-species newly born. By the time she watched (by force) the light in the fifth newborn’s eyes first brighten from the oncoming flames and then vanish for good, she relinquished. She has since ceased counting how many times she wielded the First Command successfully.

Although it made her sick, it was a Rush or be crushed existence. Watching each of her siblings and her mother get crushed, burnt, and tossed into the perimeter valley was enough proof that the unspoken threat to insurgents was unequivocal.

Before her mother’s time, Wink spent many nights admiring the beauty and grace of her mother, which, she assumed, all Rushers once carried in their countenance. Her mother’s belief that dragons were as blinded by the Rusher’s grab at power as the clan chiefs still echoed in Wink’s mind, although her mother’s voice had been lost to her for at least eight months. If it was true that dragons could be guided to be tools rather than weapons, everything known about the brutes would turn the world upside down. And, every murder of their own kin would heap damnation on the Rushers.

Wink wasn’t sure if the happy world her mother believed in could exist, but anything had to be better than this. After killing her twelfth target of the day, Wink dismounted her Seconte with the tell-tale ease of a seasoned rider. She swung her blade out of its sheath and approached the charred remains. While she could not yet thrill in slaying the poor beasts for mere practice, she was fond of their taste. With just her father and she remaining of her family, this was the surest way to have dinner each night. Jarf could care less about what happened to the targets once their utility ended, and he seemed to take particular delight in thinking Wink would have to eat burnt meat each night. Wink would not give him the satisfaction of thinking his ridicule phased her and didn’t think she had to tell him her secret (mostly because she couldn’t explain how she did it). Unbeknownst to Jarf, Wink was not eating charred meat. Somehow, she could control the intensity of the First Command through the tone she used. No one else had ever whispered about this possibility and she did not think it wise to ask the Chiefs about it, lest it be something unknown to them that they would exploit. Wink smirked down at the meat slabs in her hands and the ignorance of Jarf. She and father never really had to eat burnt food; it was always cooked just as she liked it.