Darkness of the Rai'Nati

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. But what once was, no longer mattered. Dragons had come and, with them, evil.

Euticus put his head in his hands, his sorrow and exhaustion making it too heavy to hold upright. He balled a fist and put it against his mouth to stifle a cry.

The whole world had turned so suddenly. Like a cloud passing over the sun, a new danger had loomed large in the sky. Within minutes, enemies of the realm had drawn soldiers into the castle courtyard. The men, armed well and determined to beat back the threat, had met sudden and horrific deaths beneath the dragon’s fiery curse. The beasts landed on the castle grounds, defiling the land with every step, every breath. The Rai’Neiti leaped from their monsters’ backs and rushed the castle, destroying, killing...

Euticus had grabbed his queen's hand, pulling her toward the forest and the sparse safety it might offer, drawing his sword as he rushed her out a tiny, hidden exit created for just such a moment. Brushing cobwebs aside as they ran, it occurred to him that this space had been built but never before used. He slashed and stabbed their way out, felling Rai'Niti by the dozen, but to no avail.

He'd failed. He'd failed her and himself and his people.

The queen was dead.

And now …

“It’s up to you, Euticus.”

She’d spoken the words so softly that, at first, Euticus had thought them to be nothing more than the whisper of wind. He'd looked down at her as the bright red of her blood raced down the white satin of her gown .

"No!" The word ripped from his throat as she collapsed into his arms and he felt her blood, warm and sticky and wet, as he cradled her. "No, no, no..." Laying her gently on soft grass, Euticus leaned toward her. "No, please," he begged. He placed his broad hands over the wound, dredging backward in his mind to uncover the moment, the culprit. "Please," he repeated. His mind swirled like a dust devil.

“You...” She moaned in pain and bit her lip, as red as the stain on her dress, then continued. “You … you must repel the Darkness of Rai’Nati.”

Euticus felt his head shaking ever so slightly as he looked into the green of her eyes. “I cannot . My Queen…”

But Lorinea raised a trembling hand to his lips. “Shh… Not as your queen,” she managed to say. “As your love. As your love… I… I beg you. Lead my people from the darkness.” She coughed then and tiny splatters of crimson dotted her lips. “Lead them.”

"I cannot. I failed you, Loriniea! How can I lead your people?"

"You, Euticus, my love ... have never failed me." Her chest jerked as she drew air into her lungs. "There are times ... that evil prevails."

Euticus leaned toward her. "I love you."

She lifted her chin. “And I, you.” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes and slid down her wax-white face. “Lead them Euticus.” Her eyes slid shut then, covering forever the emerald of her eyes, the light of her life. Her limp hand fell atop his, as light as butterfly wings.

Euticus stared at Lorinea for a minute longer, watching with sorrow as great and frightening as the dragons as the last of her spirit ebbed away. He raised his eyes to the forest around them. Its hues of greens and browns blurred in his vision. He smelled the rancid smoke from the castle and its surrounding city. If he looked over his shoulder, he imagined that he would see flames licking the life out of the only home he'd ever known.

He put his head in his hands, his sorrow and exhaustion making it too heavy to hold upright. He balled a fist and put it against his mouth to stifle a cry. The young warrior listened to the absolute silence around him. No birdsong, no noise of animals or insects. The Rai'Nati and their dragons, he thought, have destroyed the world. I, alone, remain.

But no, that wasn't true... He cocked his head. Footfall. Not the heavy, shuffling steps of the hated Rai'Nati, though. Without turning, he listened to the sound of men approaching from the forest. They stopped several yards from the pair, one kneeling, one gone, and stood in the quiet. Finally, Euticus raised his gaze. Five men, each blood-splattered and filthy, each armed and tattooed with the insignia of the kingdom. Each staring with equal horror at the woman they had pledged to follow to their deaths.

The eldest, a man Euticus recognized as the Head of Magistrates, spoke. "Your orders, Sire."

A million thoughts and emotions avalanched through Euticus's mind and heart. He wasn't born to this, wasn't trained for it. He'd been a warrior-recruit when a young woman, a young woman with the greenest eyes and most incredible face he'd ever seen, had smiled in his direction. They'd been not much more than children then, more than a decade ago.

He'd been a warrior-recruit and she'd been the heir-apparent to the throne.

"Your orders, Sire."

The question pulled him out of his head and back to the cold ground that held his wife. Without looking down again, he drew in a convulsive, shuddering breath and said, "First we will bury our Queen." My Love, he thought but pushed that emotion away. "Then, in her honor, we will take back the city."

The Head of Magistrates -- was his name Atrates? Euticus wondered -- gave a curt nod, drew his sword, and knelt on the hard ground. The other men followed suit. "The Queen is dead," he said thikly, tears streaking the blood and dirt on his face. "Long live the king."