In Serpent Tongue

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley… and for a reason. How the poorest community in Ulisper city kept their skies clear was what the stranger in white was there to discover. For there just happened to be one that soared nonchalantly over the Valley.

Its charcoal black scales and yellowish underbelly stood stark against the feathery white clouds overhead. By the way it whipped its head around, scanning the buildings and asphalt below it, the stranger guessed it was searching for something.

For food? For something it dropped? Why is it here and why is it flying so low? How has it not been taken down? A young woman speculated on the ground. The susurrus wind tickled the bottom of her jacket bringing with it the smell of raspberries and… feet. The firmament, usually full of seagulls, remained eerily quiet and empty, besides the ominous roll of wingbeats.

She watched it from one of the only spaces of the city not clogged with foliage, the defunct highway. Its weeds were only so tall and were limited to the cracks and weathering in the asphalt.

“Move it lady”, A delinquent growled and pushed past her, almost knocking her into the traffic barrier. Her eyes unfixed from the dragon and followed the delinquent’s tromp across the overgrown street. He scoffed at the sky and grumbled about his way, avoiding the homeless tents and car remnants obstructing the otherwise empty highway. He didn’t seem too concerned about the dragon, but then again he was a teenager. Like the young woman, they appeared to have no fear.

That teen and several other people in the area would be easy prey for this dragon if it was looking for food. She pondered. All it has to do was volplane for any of the hobos and high layabouts peppering the sidewalk. And am I not an easy target? I am wearing a white coat, and I’m in the open. Surely it has seen me.

A thought slithered into the front of her mind, she didn’t bat the idea away. It was a ridiculous idea, but it was the only reason why the dragon would be so close. Maybe it isn’t looking for food. Maybe it's just curious.

The young woman could see the gleam of its black aquiline beak and see the fire glinting behind its green eyes. She could detail a crackle of yellow under its wings like black slabs floating on lava. Never in her life living in Ulisper City had she examined a dragon this close, and it gave her a thrill.

This sure is a strange place, she mused. Her eyes darted across the rooftops. The buildings were short, no taller than two floors at most and their roofs bore nothing that would be considered weaponry. Dense thickets of trees fought for space and sunshine on the top of buildings and down by the street. The trees were too small and young to hide something like the fat forms of anti-dragon zingers and even the bristling of rifles. She had at least expected pitch forks being set on battlements when she heard the Valley had no government defenses, but there weren’t even those.

Defense was not the only thing the government gave up on. The buildings were in worse shape than if a hurricane had hit them. Crumbling to bits, broken windows, signs torn right out of their faces. What wasn’t broken and cracked had a gutted mess of tags, roots, and graffiti slathered all over it.

The pavement was beyond help as well. The concrete was cracked, potholed and worn to dirt. The dirt had burgeoning weeds growing in it, ranging from the most pathetic carrots in the city to tomatoes that crawled across the ground under the feet of people. The people, if someone would call them that, would then TAKE a tomato or a carrot and stick it in their mouths. AND any rooted up dirt left behind was left there. She had no clue why they were inclined to be this filthy. The whole Valley somehow reeked of dead fish and baked salt despite the seashore hissing a half a mile away. She was beginning to think that a high tide was not the cause of the smell, but the people themselves. Surely they didn’t want to live like this.

Some of the stores were still open and people trudged over the dilapidated roads as if these were normal conditions. The state of their side of the city didn’t seem to bother them, not even the giant monster above their heads.

The dragon dipped lower down; it was so close to the buildings now it was practically brushing the plant choked roofs with its wingtips. It banked around in another searching circle again and then there was a yell. A human yell that broke through the wind and the noise of wings.

A little red streak shot from the top of one of the taller cement structures and slammed into the black dragon. Its large blanketlike wings flailed and it let out choked screech. It pitched sideways and slammed into the top of a building. It rolled, its wings flopping under to over before it slipped off the side and into the street with a muffled THUD.

Ah, there it is, she relaxed and tilted her head to the top of the building. To her surprise there were no special cannons or even a hobo trebuchet. Rather the roof was astir with people, hooting and cheering for the settling dust cloud.

If not guns then what is their defense? And how is it so effective?

By the soniferous roar and the smoke rising from the spot, she guessed it wasn’t as effective as she initially thought. Maybe their lack of graceful firepower is why some of their buildings are in ruins. That could be why some of the more energetic residents are always glancing at the sky. I’d better hurry. That dragon won’t stay on the ground for long.

The young woman leapt over the traffic guard and trotted clumsily down the versant, avoiding the sharp cotton plants clinging to the incline. She took off through the alleys and down the maze of streets and dead ends, aiming for the sound of scales scraping and teeth gnashing. She stumbled over a couple stray legs and melons growing in the way. Her only point of reference was the sound of the dragon and the mess of skyscrapers over to the East. Using those points she was able to steady her direction and twist herself through the streets. She picked her way through to a final alley where she halted. The scales were inches from her face and the pinky claw had cut the lining off her shoe.

Muscles rippling, the dragon reared and hissed with a sound like a pipe filling with methane. Its neck glowed bright yellow while fire built up in its mouth, until a fist slammed down on its snout. Smoke and ash burst past its teeth which clamped down on its tongue.

An uproarious cheer erupted from the crowd blocking the dragons' escape down the street. They all watched in hungry amazement, grins twisting their faces. Feral, and dirty, the people seemed more like nasty hyenas than citizens.

The dragon ducked its head down sharply and it shook its shoulders. The red object on its back clung on and flipped over the dragon's horns. It clung to the horns, landed feet first on the ground and drove the dragon’s face down into the pavement. Another cheer rose from the crowd and the cynosure raised her head.

A girl, who was short enough to be a kid, slammed her boot into the back of the dragon’s neck and kicked hard. The dragon's face scraped against the pavement, leaving a dark streak on the sun bleached concrete. It twisted away groaning, dizzy and shaking. Its scales had been rubbed off at the top of its head and it breathed with a labored rasp.

The girl flipped her side bangs out of her face and took in the sight of the dragon. Her eyes were a bright green that seemed to change and shift as if their green was a lie. Her undulating hair was a coppery color that flowed in storm tossed waves. She wore a red hoodie that matched her hair and the freckles spangling her face. Her jawline was sharp enough to be a weapon and her fists were scraped and scarred. The young woman and the fighter seemed the same age yet the fighter was shorter, stockier, and strapped with lean muscles.

“Had enough yet? Gonna fly back where you came from, you hulking black boulder”, the fighter taunted and swung a dented gold bracelet around her arm. It was fat enough to be a necklace, made of gleaming pounded gold. By the way it glimmered the young woman wondered if it was made out of pure gold. She guessed it had come from the dragon.

The dragon saw it and shook its eyeballs back into place. It roared and sniffed and snarled for an unnecessary amount of time at the fighter. The woman’s eyes narrowed and she listened. It is almost as if…

“I will take… all that…. As a no”, the fighter announced and she ran at it again.

As if the dragon wasn’t expecting an attack, its eyes widened and it stumbled back. Its tail came whipping around and slammed into the side of the fighter. The young woman cringed, thinking that it had been a deadly hit and she braced herself for the crack of a human spine. The fighter twisted over the spiked ridge and landed on the side of a building. She ran along the building, clutching the tail and jumped back onto the dragon’s back. It let out a roar as she landed right on its wing joint and held tight to its black tail. The dragon stepped back, but it could no longer balance. It stumbled and fell sideways on its other wing. With the wing stretched out over a building, the dragon’s weight landed on the appendage with a sickening CRACK.

With a wail of pain, the dragon fell to the ground in a black heap. It closed its eyes, breathing pitifully like a crying child and dared not to rise.

The fighter released the tail and it flopped over the other wing which was set out of place. Some of its teeth were missing and little trails of blood ran down its scaly beak. Its scraped and damaged head scales were bleeding and it wheezed when it breathed. The young woman imagined that the first hit from the fighter went right into its neck or shoulder. No doubt it was bruised under those scales and hurting all over, not only in its wings.

“Well that was lame”, the fighter frowned and massaged a spot beside her neck where an old burn scar twisted up the side of her face. The woman guessed it wasn’t too old, there seemed to be some ointment plastered on it that shone like snail residue.

Cheers rose around and behind the fighter, filling the air with noise. Either she was deaf or was indifferent, she didn’t react to the cheering. She seemed… disappointed in her victory.

My, my, does she really feel sorry for the beast. I can’t imagine why. Does she know something I don’t, the woman pondered in calm disbelief. She couldn’t trust her eyes with what she had witnessed. A squat little kid took down a full grown dragon, knocked it right out of the sky. Even more than that, the dragon was still alive. She had seen how a dragon reacted to an attack, how it had fought and how it looked up close. She just learned dragons had front legs, she only usually saw the silhouettes of their wings and back legs. Now she had a perfect view of its wings. Almost made of pure muscle, they knit down its spine and turned to membrane at the fingers which were so much like human hands. It was interesting. She needed to know more, she needed to see more.

The young woman stepped out of the shadows and moved into the forbidden circle. She crouched by the wing and examined it, studying the knuckles at the top and the long thumb protruding from the edge. She felt along the scales, studying them with breathless excitement.

“Tell me”, the young woman called out, “In comparison to any other dragons you have fought, was this one easier to fight”?

The fighter’s eyes darted from the dragon to the young woman, they shifted into a dark grey in the shadow of her swirling bangs. Her nostrils flared as if there was supposed to be fire spilling from them.

“HEY”, she called, “Get back, NOW”!

The young woman turned her gaze to the fighter, but not to her furious expression, to the small stud earring on one ear. To her oddly shaped nose which had a bridge like a leaning cat's shoulder. To her big, scarred fists and the way she pulled her shoulders back. How she avoided stepping on the dragon’s claws as she took a balanced stance.

“I asked you a question. Do you mind answering it”, the young woman pried.

“I told you, you need to get back. This dragon isn’t dead yet, it can still kill you”, the fighter snarled.

If the young woman had been here on ordinary business, she would have gladly given up and moved back into the crowd. This fighter is no punk. By the way she stands and the way she holds her dominant fist back, she must be a martial artist. Her fighting will have discipline, unlike the idiot thugs. No doubt she could easily knock the life out of me and send me home with an arm to reattach. But I don’t want to, the woman thought, THIS is a golden opportunity. A dragon, still on the ground. Broken, harmless and alive. Where would that happen anywhere else in this city.

“As far as I can tell, you are not law enforcement, but that’s an excellent development. I would like to purchase this dragon off of you the way it is now”, the woman proposed.

The fighter’s face twisted in confusion and one of her eyebrows wrinkled as if she didn’t have the facial muscles to make it rise. The result was an angry redhead who looked like she was sucking on a lemon.

“Yeah no way in hell I am selling this thing to you alive”, she sniffed. She adjusted the gold bracelet on her shoulder and glared at the woman, “If you want it, I will kill it and leave it here. You can get the meat or whatever after it's dead, but not as it is now”.

“Leave it here? And what pray tell do you think will happen? I assure you dragon meat is amonious and tough, not even the hungriest dog will want to eat it. And as far as I notice there is no cleanup in this part of town. Won’t it rot here? Stain the pavement black with its body juices… bloat and fill up with maggots… turn white with fungus and ever so slowly degrade. And a body of this size, I can’t even imagine the stench”, The young woman wheedled.

The fighter’s face soured even more and she shuddered violently as if shaking off the maggots from her memory. The young woman smirked at the fighter, despite her attempts to keep her face passive and agreeable. I love it when my words hit home.

“What would you do with it anyway? It's a dragon. They are illegal to keep and dangerous. Are you from the Mafia and you think you can train it like a dog or something? Or maybe you are a spoiled brat and want to keep it as a pet, lock it in a cage until its life drips out of it”? she spat, “I am not selling it to you. I don’t trust you”.

“Understandable”, the young woman shrugged, “You don’t know me after all. Let me start off right. Hello, you can call me White”. She held out a soft elegant hand that slid out of the long sleeve of her coat.

The fighter blinked at her and her hand. She did not appear to be any more fond of White.

“Introducing yourself as a color won’t make me trust you either”, the fighter scoffed.

“It’s pretty much my name. If you want my attention from across the street, that’s what you should yell. Any other name wouldn’t do the trick. What should I call you”? White asked. Her hand disappeared back into her coat. She smiled pleasantly at the fighter and swished closer.

“Then you call me ‘Kick Butt’ because that’s what I’m going to do to you if you don’t get out of here”, she insisted.

The fighter trudged past White’s shoulder and over to the crowd. She reached out into a group of people until someone handed her a long, sharp kitchen knife. The fighter flipped it in her hand and marched over to the dragon’s head.

“Hmm, that name doesn’t really suit you. How about Red”? White stepped in front of the fighter, standing in between her and the dragon. The fighter stopped in her tracks at a neutral distance from White.

“Like my hair color. How original”, the fighter rolled her eyes and set her arms into an annoyed knot.

“I was going to say like your hoodie, but you know it fits you, don’t you”.

“Big words for such a lanky thing. Who knows I might have to shove them back into your skull if you don’t get out of here”, Red growled. She stalked closer to White, flipping the knife into position in her hand.

“But I have not bought my dragon have I? I am sure we can work out a decent price, something that can cover your debts for the week”, White continued.

“What was that”? Red asked, cocking her head and staring her down with an icy spell, “You don't know that for sure... unless you have been stalking me”?

“No, I have never heard of you until right now, but you aren’t too hard to read. Your hoodie isn’t new, a couple years old I might guess, I can tell by how thin the cotton is. It's well cared for though, I can see the places where you have stitched the holes. Although I don’t see you as someone who sews, your fingers don’t look dexterous enough. That means you must have a mother or family member who will do it for you”.

“Is that all you’ve got? The fact I have a family does not mean I’m in debt.” she snorted.

“That might not be so. Funny enough lots of people here have lost loved ones. You see, most of the people here are from the great dragon attack, and the place that was hit the hardest was the middle and upper class neighborhoods. I am guessing you were in that attack and since you are here, I am guessing your family didn’t pop back up so quickly. Perhaps you were in dept… a big debt if you are still here. There must be a member missing from it. Maybe your father or-no your face went sour- your other mother died in that attack”.

“I think you’d better stop”, Red warned.

“Losing everything and being stuck here, such a tragedy. And with this economy, that gold bracelet isn’t what it used to be, is it. I can not imagine you making very much for all your operose taking down these dragons and it shows. Did you find that earring or did you lose the other one?”

“CUT THAT OUT”, Red yelled and snatched White by the collar. Red’s eyes were so close she could see the secrets in how they changed color depending on the light. They were not green or grey, they were a light blue lined with sunshine yellow. She held the knife up behind her head. All White had to do was call her mother a cow and she would have to pry the improperly sharpened blade out of her eye socket

She won’t hurt me, White thought triumphantly, by the sound of her breathing, I bet is trying to calm down. She is too valiant to harm an unarmed person for merely taunting her. If she wasn’t then the crowd would have been rooting for the dragon.

“Shall I start what the condition of your shoes tells me or do we have a deal”? White smiled.

“FINE”, she snarled and nearly pushed White over, “Give me $6000 for it”.

White blinked, hiding her surprise behind the expression she wore previously. So low? Who knows, that might get little Red here a new sports car. I can’t bite this though, she might figure out she can charge me more down the line.

“$2000”, White suggested.

Red’s nose crinkled and her frown deepened. For a moment White thought she would back down at that amount.

“$5000”, Red insisted, “No lower”.

“Oh, but putting this animal back into one piece will cost a lot of money. Would you buy a wrecked car for that amount”, White asked.

“I believe in you”, Red told her with an insistent glare.

White sniffed, noticing that Red was slowly becoming more disinterested in this venture. She flipped out a stack of cash from a hidden pocket in her coat and double counted in front of Red. The strangers stared at the money greedily. White made sure they also saw the knives lining the inside of her coat.

The dragon below watched the transaction with its large round eyes. It followed Whites’ hands as she exchanged the bills with Red and she wondered if this dragon knew that her life was being traded. She would have to see.

“You know, you never really answered what you are going to do with it”, Red grumbled and watched White’s back as she dipped down to the dragon’s face.

She greedily studied how its scales knitted together and how they shifted in progression with its blinking. She placed a hand on its face and slid her fingers over its cheekbones.

“I am just curious”, White smiled.