Divided by Fire

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. My world wasn’t always broken in half. My whispers brought them, but I didn’t ask them to do what they did, so why was I being followed? I didn’t want the glorious, fiery genocide, or the sphere of mesmerising black mist that imprisoned our entire army. I wanted to fix it. I needed to be the first to cross the Valley. Free our soldiers before Rykar’s carnivorous monsters came for us. The air was sour with their impending arrival. Time was running out; we had no defence. The man following me knew it was all my fault. He must have. I wouldn’t blame him for hunting me if so. Maybe if he only knew my reasons. Or maybe if he realised the dragon’s veil also trapped my husband. I was barely even used to my new name - Mrs Jolene Aston. And already I was without my Graeme. I had nobody to run to. Nobody to protect me if this man robbed me or attacked me… or worse.

He tracked me through the market, around the bakery, and past the mill. He moved slowly and kept his distance, but I felt him there, like he was tethered to me somehow. My body squirmed every time I glimpsed his lecherous eyes within the black hood. It unsettled me to my core. The dark green in them itched with familiarity, but I couldn’t explain why. Perhaps because they were the colour of mine. It didn’t matter—I had to be away from him. I reached the deserted smithies and peeked back. There he was. Tall and slender like me, but a face darkened by the hooded cloak. The eyes gleamed like a cat’s at night. My breaths quickened, so I tried to blow softly through my mouth. Try to control it and stay calm, just like Graeme taught me. I hated the other side of me. Bad things happened. I was a runner, climber, and swimmer - surely I could escape him if needed, but my heart couldn’t take the jolt of a chase. It pounded hard, and it had been through too much pain already. The day of the divide sliced it into two. Half lived across the Valley with Graeme. Even if I had to go through dragons, I couldn’t resist the pull to be whole again.

The street became quieter. I looked again. He walked quicker. I thought I glimpsed him summon me with a dainty hand. I’d spun back too fast to be sure. For a second, the temptation to go swirled, but I couldn’t explain why. I didn’t, though. I wouldn’t let that happen to me. My gut rumbled with cramp and every muscle spasmed into action. I hurried, but my legs were wobbly. What did he want? If he knew the truth, wouldn’t others be chasing me too? Or if not, why wouldn’t they help me? They never did. My palms were clammy at the thought of him reaching me. How could I have even considered it?

I scurried around the next corner, feeling an icy sickness slither up my throat. I had worn Graeme’s old breeches, so I could move easier. At any moment, the need to sprint could come. Merchants were on the street - stubborn old ladies still intent on setting up their stalls despite only having rat meat and mouldy vegetables to sell. I had to be careful that even they would not turn me over. Nobody understood—I didn’t mean for the dragons to burn our farms and slaughter our cattle. The merchants had stacked their empty crates high and messy in front of a crossroads. That was my chance. I headed towards the crates and offered the ladies a strained smile and a nod to disguise my plan. Then I slipped behind them. And I ran. As fast as my legs could take me. Down one street, around a corner, and over a fence. The rush throughout my entire body was almost euphoric. And terrifying. My skin tingled with a restless heat, my breaths ragged. I dared to look back. He was gone. But I still wanted to run. The tart smell came back to me—the very reason I needed to cross the Valley and reach the army. It knotted my gut, making each stride painful. Rykar’s motives clearly still leeched on my insides. Nobody could forget the last time he came, as much as we wanted to. I kept going, jogging through twisting discomfort, until the black mist creeped into view, and my legs finally buckled.

My chest erupted into an audible wheeze. I gasped for air. It scared me, but not as much as the sourness that spilled down my throat and curdled in my belly. It meant only one thing. Rykar was close. My blood turned cold. He knew we were exposed. He knew the dragons divided us from the soldiers, weaponry, and the sanctuary of the castle. Grey clouds swelled over the sea where he and his carnivorous monsters would be sailing. Them on one side, dragons on the other, and in the middle—only women, untrained men, children, and me.

A figure darted onto the path, blocking my way. My heart leapt. It was the hooded man. I still saw only his green eyes. His shoulders were narrow and still. How did he breathe so calm? It was impossible for him to be ahead of me. Especially without breaking a sweat. The familiarity tingled again. Uncomfortably. I couldn’t let him have me. I turned to run. Another person obstructed my escape. This one I recognised.

“Jolene, stop,” said Hilary Erskine, the self-appointed governor of our side of the divide. “Nobody crosses the Valley, Jolene. It is for your own safety.” Every word Hilary uttered was always slow and emphasised, like she was performing on stage.

“Can you smell that in the air?!” I realised how skittish my voice was, but I felt so sticky and fidgety under my blouse. “Waiting is more dangerous. I must do something. I can reach the army and tell them Rykar is coming.” The smell was cruel in its reminders. That squelch of flesh being devoured from the bone still lived in my ears. I needed to vomit, but the tightness in my throat would never allow it.

“You have done enough. I know you brought the dragons here, and I know why. I will not permit you to go.”

“Who put you in charge?!” I was conscious my brow had raised, and of the prickly heat within it. She was making me go there. Hilary’s marriage to a knight had instilled her with an air of superiority. The citizens succumbed to it, and it made her worse. Disobedience would likely see her lock you away. “You’ll see Rykar’s monsters feast upon us all rather than take action.”

“That’s rich. Your actions led to this. Those dragons killed everyone in the Valley. You offered them up like breakfast. I will not allow you to make things worse.”

Adrenaline surged through my body. My arms trembled. “I have to.”

“They are not your dragons, Jolene. Do you even realise that? They will reduce you to ash in seconds. I am not letting you commit suicide just to appease your conscience.”

“What will you do? Have your man drag me to the pillory? Because you can’t threaten me with anything worse than what Rykar will bring.”

Hilary squinted and arched backwards. “What man?”

I turned around. The hooded figure was gone. Had he already got me? I closed my eyes and noticed how tight my jaw was. My upper teeth violently grated against the bottom. It felt like they scratched against my skull. The sensation was nauseating. I exhaled deeply, draining my lungs of everything that encumbered them. The day the dragons came—the day of the divide—flashed before me. One waft of a wing like a hurricane forcing me off my feet. A shadow so vast day became night in a blink. The cascading sound of the fire, bursting across the sky like an orange waterfall, and its heat, prickling my skin like a thousand needles. I absorbed it for the first time since that day, especially the screams from those in the Valley. My arms lifted, floating loose and free. My mind filled with words I could not read and noises I could not decipher, yet I somehow knew what they meant. So I responded. I opened my eyes and looked to the pale lilac sky.

A shrill screech pierced the air, and a shadow crossed Hilary’s limp face. Upon the church’s spire to my right, an eagle landed. Screeeech! Hilary clasped her ears, but I found the piercing call pleasant and warming. I watched its white head turn to Hilary, and its arched beak aim threateningly at her, all the while flapping giant wings.

“Jolene. Do not do this,” she said.

My heartbeat had not been so silent since that day, and I could breathe peacefully. My body did not feel my own, and yet, it felt right. I sensed the rumble on my left, in the bramble, and instinctively smiled. Yellow eyes emerged first, then the white face, and finally, the mountain lion’s golden fur. It strode onto the path before me, its coat glistening majestically as its muscles flexed beneath. It faced Hilary, then crouched and hissed. Hilary raised her palms and edged backwards slowly, her head frozen while her eyes flitted between the eagle and the lion.

“Fine, Jolene,” she said, her voice quicker and trembly. “But remember—you cannot control it. Think about the last time, please.”

Last time they listened to my whispers, and they came. If we survived Rykar, everybody, including Hilary, would thank me for the dragons. Those lost in the Valley would be forgotten.

I ran across a field after turning from Hilary. There were some rocks that Graeme and I used to climb together. That would be my way across. Graeme’s face suddenly burst into my mind. I had to stop and steady myself. My legs jittered and my head became light. It was like my memory of him had just slapped me across the cheek. The hairs on my skin straightened. I had that gut-twisting feeling like I was being followed again. But I couldn’t see anyone behind. Not Hilary, not the hooded man, nobody. Hilary asked for that to happen. There wasn’t any other way. They heard my whispers, but I didn’t make them threaten her. They had minds of their own. If they’d attacked, that wouldn’t have been my fault.

I reached the rocks and saw the black mist up close. It crawled along the Valley like a slow-moving sandstorm, invading every bit of green. It hauled a smouldering smell that tingled my nostrils and stung my eyes. My breaths quivered as they left my dry lips. What was I doing? Why would the dragons be any less savage than Rykar’s monsters? My whispers brought them, but our screams made them stay. They wouldn’t listen to me anymore, yet I had to chance them over Rykar. We had an army when he last came and only just survived. The dragons were more than murderous beasts. They had to be.

My belly knotted. I snapped my neck back to look at the fields. It was nothing but empty plains of grass until it met the stone houses of the city. Nobody was there, despite the unsettling sense. I stretched for a crevice in the crag and pulled. Nothing happened. My feet stayed fixed on the ground. I tensed my arm, yet could not lift my body. I was as heavy as the rocks I failed to climb. Hilary was right. Everyone in the Valley was dead because of me. I caused the divide. I left us vulnerable to Rykar and his monsters. My eyes watered, but I would not allow myself to cry. How did I dare sob myself to sleep over Graeme every night? He breathed on the other side. Those in the Valley didn’t. The air nearby still tasted charred. Men, women, boys, girls—all victims of my mistake. Graeme. My gut tightened and gurgled. I wanted to scream out for him. We should have been starting a family. I should have been with child. Not scrambling up rocks with the fate of everyone coiled around my neck.

My fault or not, I needed to climb. It was our last hope. I narrowed my eyes, tensed my jaw, and pulled. Up I went. As high as I could manage before the crag chewed the skin off my palms. The mist was below me. I wouldn’t check, but I knew it was. I shimmied sideways. The route we climbed so often came back to me. I dangled my left foot out. Where was the nook? I glanced down. It was gone. Crumbled away. The sea of black slithered beneath my foot. My heart cannoned against ribs, so violently I feared it could shake me from the cliff. My hands trembled and my grip loosened. Maybe I should have just let go. Face my dragons. It would be fair punishment. I found my fingers clenching at the thought of being submerged in that darkness. I wasn’t there to die. Hilary was wrong about that. Graeme awaited across the Valley.

I twisted back towards my right, eyed up the burnt end of a protruding root, and flung myself. For a long second, my heart stopped, and I flew. Then I hit the rock face. Both hands clawed and clasped onto the root, my fingers riddled with hot aches. My feet scrambled and scratched until I found a ledge to rest upon. I guzzled the air. I needed Graeme. He could remind me to stay slow and calm; ensure I knew falling wasn’t an option, and to shield me from that dark place. He was always so good at that.

I watched the sky as I took my next steps. The sun tingled my face, reminding me of our clifftop wedding. It soothed my insides with a fuzzy caress. The glistening sea, the red glow of the sunset, and Graeme’s strong and kind eyes. I smiled. Screeeech! An eagle soared by my head. The gust of its wings wobbled me. I hugged the rock tight, scraping my cheek against its roughness. The eagle swooped down and landed next to a figure. The hooded man. He was back. And I was stuck, high on the cliff and teetering above the Valley. Their Valley. Behind him prowled the mountain lion. It stared up at me, brandishing fangs, then sat beside the man. The man placed a hand upon his head, pulled back the hood, and opened his cloak. It wasn’t a man. It was a woman. I couldn’t see her face, but her hair was long and black like mine. She too wore a green blouse and old men’s breeches. I’d seen her before; I was sure of it. Through the windows of shops I passed. Down at the sea. Even at home. And yet I still couldn’t say who she was. She stepped forward and gripped at the rocks. A fierce tingle shot through my spine. I had to hurry—escape her and reach the other side. Graeme was there. I just needed to get to him. He knew how to keep her away. I reached for a jagged horn of stone. It cracked. I raked at the blur of grey rock, but I plummeted too fast. My hands shredded. I couldn’t stop myself. My feet ricocheted off as well. The air rushed against my face and through my hair. The black drew nearer. I took one last look at the sun, then it was gone.