Preta The Merciful

I should've known the child would be trouble. Oh, I should have known. I should have burned her alive like the little morsel she was and been done with it. But alas I did not.

My troubles began whilst soaring through some clouds above The Wood of old Zixmes One Horn; or as the humans now call it Melbourne Forest. I dare say that I much preferred when ole Zixmes was around. His death was one few dragons get to enjoy, one of old age. Dragons are much more amicable company than that of man; though hunting man is a bit more enjoyable without worrying about dragon fire breathing down your neck.

It was then above The Wood of Zix, er-Melbourne Forest when I spotted a peculiar sight below.

Emerging from a bundle of oak trees nearly as ancient and wretched as I, was a human. Not just any but a small female child. Far too small to be alone. Which meant two likely things.

Firstly, that someone else must be nearby. Then secondly, there was the potential I could have some easy pickings from her dwelling. For where there are humans, there tend to be unsightly settlements that follow.

Turn up a log and you’re likely to find grubs scurrying away. My tongue lapped over my fangs at the thought.

Strangely enough she did not appear to be afraid, nor did she point in awe. Which are the typical reactions I bring. She just stared blankly. Her plain butter white face betrayed no emotions, nothing at all. Which if I'm honest was a bit of a disappointment.

Perhaps she thought I was some kind of large bird. For, from this distance to her inferior vision I would be comparable in size to one.

I hid in some cloud cover for a spell, upon my exit I found that she had disappeared. Oh little blonde peasant where did you venture?

I would get my answer a day later, and much to my surprise in the exact same spot. There she stood again in front of the gnarled oak trees as if she waited for my passing; in the same clothes no less. I hadn't cared to notice her garb before, she wore a shabby dress which appeared to be in tatters.

This time I decided I would make it obvious of what I am, and of what I am not. No birdwatching for this girl today. She would feel the terror from a millenia of dragon might, the thunder of my wings. What takes them years to build, I can raze in a moment of hell fire.

I glided low enough for her to see me. I roared out at her and whomever may be near in the forest.

As I came to be above her I flapped my wings, not out of necessity but of spite.

The gusts twisted and pulled at her formerly white dress, her blonde hair ripped toward the oak trees. It was as though the trees reached to pull the child into their arms.

Yet, when I began to lower myself to her she stood unflinchingly. Her hands clenched at her sides, I'm not sure that she blinked. I must say I can't tell if this infuriates me or if it genuinely arouses my intrigue.

I feared perhaps a trap thus I flapped away. There could have been one of those dreadful javelins hidden in the woods or something like that but I would not be gone long. I decided I must turn back and have a word with this mysterious being.

Either that or eat her. Odds are the latter.

I flew back around to that same northeast corner of Melbourne, oh curse that name! The northeast corner of The Wood of Zixmes One Horn. Hmm. Now that I think about it, that doesn't sound right either. It actually sounds rather moronic as well. Oh well,fine Melbourne Forest it is.

Apologies, Zixmes.

As I landed on the dew covered ground of Melbourne Forest it shuttered in dismay at my arrival. To my trepidation the girl was gone again.

As I whiffed the air I could smell remnants of her. I lowered my long neck down beneath some of the branches of the oak trees. They extended from the upper basin of the tree to the ground; which gave it a cavernous look.

I peered inside, I could see within there was a small piece of cloth poking from behind the brush.

I rumbled out a growl, the song of the birds in my midst grew silent.

Nothing.

I took a deep breath to uncover what the brush hid. I did so with a smile. As the wall of foliage came uncovered I was alarmed at what was unveiled.

There was no child but a bundle of twigs, leaves, and a makeshift sheet of some kind.

Was the girl living here?

I inhaled again, her scent was still near. Aside from the usual stench of a human, hers contained a hint of something that was very familiar to my nostrils. A smell of metal, iron, minerals.

Blood.

I was taken aback at first. Normally any inkling of that smell would make my stomach dance in anticipation. It would, in due time but first an unusual sensation came to me. That of worry, and that of bewilderment.

I pulled my head from beneath the oak trees for any signs of the girl. Her scent was close, but a distant memory.

Frustrated at the lack of resolve I flapped my wings leaving the ground, the wood below grew further away. I would seek her out.

Why was she bleeding? Why was she living under an oak tree? Questions swam through my mind. Then some ways from her apparent home I saw her. I couldn't believe the distance she covered in mere moments.

Again she stood with some distance between herself and the wood behind her. I dove right toward her. There wasn't much area for me to land but I would make room.

The wind whistled in my ears as I exploded toward her. At the last moment I held my wings out to my sides to jolt to a stop above her. The trees shook in my wake, and some crashed down as I made space for myself.

Despite the world seemingly falling around her, the little blonde girl merely winced as a branch from an evergreen came and tumbled down feet behind her.

Was the girl a fool? Only such would not be afraid to be in the midst of a dragon! One that could burn her to ash in a sneeze, one that could swallow her whole in a single bite.

It was then that I realized despite the growl from my stomach it wasn't hunger that led me to follow, it was that of wonder.

“Why are you not afraid?” I grumbled to her, I then realized I had spoken to her in the tongue of dragons, and switched to the common tongue. “Aren't you afraid I will devour you from this world little one?”

She blinked her dark eyes at me before she spoke so quietly I may have thought it was a whisper.

“I don't fear, because I prayed to the gods that you come.”

I let out a laugh, “so you prayed for your death then?” I leaned closer to where she stood far below me. To my astonishment and sincere awe this little peasant girl, who lived under a tree answered me in the tongue of dragons.

“I have died already once.” She gestured down beneath her navel. There mixed with the grime of days spent in the dirt, was a stream of dried blood.

I don't know if she can read a dragon's face but I know I had a look of shock upon it.

I studied her for a moment, it was always difficult to know exactly how old a human was. I just knew if they had gray hair they were considered elder, and when they were short they were young. This one was too young, far too young dare I say to know both the common tongue and how to speak the word of fire.

“How do you know the words of the flame?”

She looked at me with what could have been considered a smile, “I learned much in a short time.” I noticed that her hands had strange markings on them, runes perhaps. None that I recognized. Humans had a number of bizarre rituals after all.

“Well now that your wish is granted, what do you want of me?”

Her eyes for the first time left mine, and stared at the forest floor. “I wish to take you to my village.”

I reared my head back in laughter, I knocked against a tree behind me. It creaked in protest as I returned my head back down to her level. “And why do you wish to bring a dragon to your village? You wish to sell me out as bait for your local dragon slayer? That's it! What are you getting out of it? A sweet roll? Just know girl, I have slayed many. Many like the winter to wheat!”

The girl this time gave a brilliant smile in her answer. “No dragonslayers, you are hungry aren’t you?”

Well she did have a point there.

To this we had an understanding of sorts. I still don't know what is afoot, but she guided me to her village while riding upon my back. If it was indeed a trap I was quite confident that I could over take any backwater village’s defenses. Besides, I could use some sport if there was a dragon slayer there. What's life without a bit of sport?

Though I must say several things didn't add up. For one, such a small thing living under a tree, she clearly had been there for some time judging from her stink. Most especially odd was her knowledge my own language. Well that and her leading me to slaughter her village. Before I could ponder any deeper she interrupted my train of thought.

“Go down here, its close.”

I slowly lowered my right wing toward where she pointed me. I floated us to a tiny opening in the canopy. I made sure to push some of the trees aside, as to make way for the child so she wouldn't be knocked off my back.

“Where is this village girl? I saw nothing from above.”

She climbed down my wing daintily. “It is through these trees nearby. They build the village in the woods to hide from the likes of you.”

“As they should.”

I stopped her with my claw.“I must know now child, what is the real reason you brought me here?”

Her face suddenly seemed drained of color and she gestured for me to come nearer. She whispered in my ear something so vile, something so heinous, even by my standards.

“My mother was called witch by my village and killed. My new father did.” She paused for a moment looking away; this time with tears in her dark eyes. She took a deep breath before continuing. “My father did things to me.” She pointed to the source of her blood stains.

“He said it was punishment for my mother’s sins.”

Inside me burned not only fire, but a rage that I had not felt since I could remember taking my first flight. Some men are truly worse than monsters. Dragons can be vile, corrupt, and evil, though we would never do such things to one of our own, let alone a babe.

So with this I gladly would return this village to the dirt.

“Before we begin, what is it you call yourself?”

She answered in the common tongue. “My name is Yvenifer.”

I shook her hand formally with one of my claws. “Pleasure, Yvenifer. My name is Preta.”

Her tiny hands let go of my claw as she anxiously looked to the forest.

“Well Yvenifer lead the way to this place of scorn so we can rid ourselves of it.”

Yvenifer spun, she twirled in a circle. One foot, then two, barely touched the Earth as she leapt from the balms of her feet. Her movements like a cat walking along a ledge; a swift yet smooth measured approach with each step. Every step, every movement seemed musically induced as if only she could hear an old song.

She stuck out her tongue with her head upward toward the sky. She watched as a gray flake of ash made its way down to her tongue. Her dark brown eyes studied its fat shape which grew more discernible as it floated closer. Its myriad of crystalline arms gave the appearance of a wagon wheel. It hit the patient tongue melting into a gray smudge.

Slowly the tongue folded back into her mouth. A wild smile spread across her face as she continued her pirouette humming musical notes through the burning ruins of her village. She even cartwheeled at one point as she left tiny footprints in the ashes beneath her.

I don't think I've ever been more entranced by a human. I have grown oddly fond of this peculiar child. She seems wise beyond her few suns. A contradiction she was. Her hay blonde hair, her stone brown eyes.

I watched this child- Yvenifer and her strange dance among the ashes for some time. I knew she wanted revenge for what the vile man had done to her but she didn't even flinch as I turned her village, and fellow villagers to ash.

Maybe she's too green to understand what she had me do. Perhaps the thought of her truly understanding was more troubling than if she had no idea of what we had done. Perhaps it was a game to her, at one point with her tiny finger she used the fresh blood from a body to draw spirals on her cheeks.

She watched me devour several villagers, and continued her dance as I ate. I breathed fire on some of the village lambs for her to eat as well. She squatted down to the ground with her knees to her sides as she tore into the meat.

It was my turn to watch her eat now. She ripped the lamb apart with a calculated precision. Yvenifer ate nearly as ravenously as I did. I can't imagine the last time she ate something.

She stopped to speak abruptly, her wild hair covering her face. “I want you to eat me now.”

I'm certain she saw the shock on my face this time. “Yvenifer, I'm not sure that's a joke you wish to entertain.”

“No joke, I wish for you to kill me.”

“Yvenifer, I don't know if you are feeling regret for having brought me to this place, but I won't eat you. You are one of the few humans that can say this. What was done to you was terrible and will take time to heal. Some men are worse than the monsters that inhabit this world. I.. I can take you anywhere you need to go.”

She then stood, “I know you can smell the blood. What my father did will kill me slow from the inside. I don't want to die slow. I would rather be done quick. Fast.”

I rose to my own feet now, high above her and what remained of the enclave to avoid the plee of her eyes. Then for one of the few times in my long existence no words came to mind.

She pulled some of her blonde hair from her face, her brows furled. “Eat me! End this hurt.” She then collapsed to her knees as she revolted in pain.

I did pity the little thing. Truth be told, however at that moment I was not hungry, I had gorged myself just a second prior on the ever so plump town blacksmith. George. Geoff. Gof. Whatever his name was. He was fat and quite filling. I licked my lips.

I looked at the girl as she was. She was mostly skin and bone, not quite gaunt but enough to see the outline of her ribs.

She can’t be more than forty pounds, what is another forty pounds? I can say I do indeed smell some rot on the girl. Something besides the blood anyway.

“Fine. I will do this last wish of you. I dare to say that I despise that you will die so young. With knowing a life of such pain.”

I lowered my gaze to meet her eyes. Behind them was a stare full of pain, both emotional and physical, a life full of it. I could sense the whole ordeal with a simple glance.

Perhaps it's best that I put an end to it. That's it, a mercy.

“I will end your suffering little one.” I will make it a clean bite. Just stand as you are.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she let herself smile.

I would bite right where her spine met her little head. She would not feel a thing. Or if she did it would be a brief passing. Much more brief than what she had experienced to this point.

“Goodbye Yvenifer.”

Something stirred behind her eyes. She spoke her last words to me in the common tongue.

“Men are worse than monsters.”

Strange last words. Strange last words from a strange child. Her body twitched headless to the ground. I couldn't bear to watch. I quickly swallowed the rest of it whole. I dare say that I don't think I will have an appetite any time soon.

I fought back the urge to vomit. It was as if when I devoured her body, I not only ate her, but her pain.

Dragons are cursed with the blight that we do not have the ability to cry or make tears. Though If I did have that ability I dare say I would have made a river over this disgusting village.

From deep within me an uncontrollable belch emerged echoing over the blaze of the burning village. Then another. My stomach rumbled making the earth seem as if it were as well.

A pain seared through me. It felt as though the town butcher was cutting his way out of my stomach. An involuntary roar of agony escapes my throat.

What was happening to me?

I felt a sensation I cannot put into words. Though they do come as I fall to the ash covered ground.

Maleficent.

Hatred.

Rot.

As my body wretched on the ground darkness takes me; I fade into a dreamless sleep. Though I am not sure that it is a sleep. Eventually colors start to come to me. Then sounds. And finally everything else. Though I can't say that it is a dream I am now observing.

I see a little girl, I see Yvenifer again. Though the girl I see is Yvenifer, I hear her called by another name.

Kira was a little girl, a toddler at that. For a toddler she was quieter than you may expect of one. Though a quiet toddler would never raise questions, only jealousy in most parents. Especially when her father was such an outwardly kind and caring man. He would wave and greet all of the townsfolk in the village by name.

When he wasn't working as the miller he would help the townsfolk in their labors at no cost. He was a very loving father who loved Kira very much; however he loved her in ways that a father should not love their daughter.

You see when Kira was born her mother died during childbirth; and it was Kira for whom he blamed.

In the night after her father was deep in his skin of wine it would begin. As a toddler she didn't know much of what to do, but she knew what pain was and that it was best to avoid it.

She would try and hide during these times. Hiding once in the kitchen cupboards. Sometimes in the pantry. Once she even hid in the neighbors livestock pen. When he found her that time it was especially bad.

Her father almost always would stumble his way into finding her amidst his drunken stupor. Despite her years or lack thereof Kira knew that when she heard his sloppy laugh it meant she had been found.

I was truly glad this man was gone now. I just wish I was able to cause an inkling of pain to him as he did to this poor.. Little child. What a blasted idiot, holding a child responsible for something she had no control over.

Though, now that I ponder back to the many faces of those I slaughtered and who now resided in my belly. I don't remember seeing his face. His is one I would remember as well. Thick neck, thick jaw, greasy brown hair that wisped about his head. He looked like someone who was scrunched together as I might with my hands. No. I dare say I don't remember his face.

Watch. A whisper said in my ear.

I hadn't noticed it before, as I was focused on Kira but now I did.

In the midst of this pain and suffering an entity was present. A shadow that lay in wait; hiding in the cracks and crevices of Kira’s modest home. Waiting for a chance to pounce.

I watched it move about during the night when the house was quiet. Sometimes it would move house to house to watch the other families as they slept.

What was it seeking?

At times as Kira would toss and turn in her sleep it would sit floating above her.

I tried to stop it, whatever it was, I tried to breathe fire but I was just an observer here.

Wherever here was.

The shadow was not from here. It had searched far and wide for a candidate. It now felt that it found the perfect one. Somehow I could tell.

Its chance would come, for Kira's father could not help himself.

It was on one of these nights that Kira experienced so much pain that it happened.

I found myself in the middle of the moment again. Her father stopped his abuse of her as her head rolled idly around. He shook her now, slapped her to no avail.

I watched in awe now as what appeared to be a white cloud rose from her body. Her father continued his shaking and cursing. He did not seem aware of it. She wasn't dead, but she left her body as one does when they endure so much.

It was at this moment that the shadow saw its opportunity. It leapt into her body. Kira shuddered suddenly, erupting into a coughing fit.

Her father,much to my surprise, hugged her in a strong embrace. Her face rested on his hairy shoulder. As she ceased coughing her eyes opened. Blue eyes now turned a dark, malicious brown.

Little Kira was no more.

Later that same night I watched as the being that claimed Kira's body snuck into the kitchen. Her steps were utterly silent. She moved as a cat would, no a shadow.

Among a drawer of assorted knives she pulled from it the largest. She admired it in the darkness.

Now she crept into her fathers room and climbed on top of his bed. His mouth draped open letting out an unsightly snore which originated in his throat.

His head shifted left to right as he shook himself awake. His eyes were only a thin sliver. As he sat blinking, a sly smile came across his face, he viewed this visit as an invitation of sorts.

Before he could fully wake Kira slowly, slit his throat from ear to ear. She cut him so deeply that the knife grinded against bone.

Blood quickly coated the headboard, along with Kira's smiling face.

She watched as his face twisted in shock. He gasped, and wheezed for air only to find blood. His hands caught between a reach for Kira’s throat and trying to hold in the blood now leaking from his own. She relished every moment of seeing life leave from his eyes. He gurgled one last time as his pathetic soul left his body. I watched all this from wherever I was.

Oddly enough, even though I don't know where I am, she tilted her blood covered face to look up at the ceiling her blood covered face shimmering in the night. I felt my stomach drop. Or was it at me? Where else might she look?

My visions twisted once more into a mixture of what I gleamed as past and present.

The shadow in its wait for a host had put a plan together. She had heard whispers in her passings through the other houses of a dragon flying nearby; for people to be extra cautious. Kira was only part of a much more ambitious plan for Yvenifer. Yes, Yvenifer really is your name then isn't it?

*************************************

There was an accused witch that was burned alive. That part of the story was true. However, Yvenifer left out the very important part that it was she that was the witch. Before being burned alive she performed one of the darkest spells known by any. It would allow her to transcend death long after her body was destroyed. Upon the success of the ritual black runes spread across her hands, up her arms.

There was however a requirement. It would require for her death to be painful, for the spell itself feeds on pain and suffering. Needless to say, being burnt at the stake would be a death that would afford Yvenifer this measure.

Now I observed her in captivity. She sat in a tattered gown covered in her own excrement. Each limb chained to the ground or wall; her mouth covered by some metal device.

Yvenifer in this form was also a contradiction. I could sense that she was not that old in age but she had the appearance of a hag. Her black thinning hair twisted in front of her face, helping to conceal a crooked warty nose. The effects of a lifetime dedicated to the dark arts no less.

I watched as they came for her. Four men, armed in different ways. They were terrified of her, you could see it plainly as they maneuvered around her like sheep. Fearing that any touch would result in an explosion of some kind.

What had she done?

They carefully led her through a gathered crowd to the waiting stake and chained her to it. Torches were lit as was she. As the fire claimed her, the wretched scream she let out nearly deafened those nearby. I felt her pain, and her agony. I could feel the skin melting from bone, the smoke filling my lungs. Something a dragon I dare say never had felt before.

Suddenly a voice speaks in my head, our head.

Isn't that something Preta? Now you know what pain you've inflicted all this time. Her cackle makes me wince.

Those who witnessed her death safely confirm they burned the right person. They assumed wrongly that the ordeal was over with.

From this husk of a person escaped the shadow of Yvenifer. Now in a reasonable amount of time she would need to find a host, a host that was suffering. She would not have to search far. I watched as the shadow swam from house to house. Eventually pausing beneath a house; a modest one. Within this modest house it heard crying.

This is where poor Kira came in; and it is where I now do as well.

In reflection, when I ate Kira I may as well have eaten poison.

Now I endure a fate perhaps worse than death. I watch helplessly as Yvenifer goes about the world wreaking havoc with my own body. Only my body is not my own anymore; wherever I find myself now I don’t have a body, it's all by feeling as if reaching for a flame in the dark. In some stray thread between worlds we now reside.

I keep little Kira company; and her I. I feel the anger burn inside me like dragon fire. Dragon fire I no longer have within me.

I should've known the child would be trouble. Oh, I should have known. I should have burned her alive like the little morsel she was and been done with it. But alas I did not.

I have now seen the full cycle of life and what can follow, I have seen how men can truly be worse than beast.

Kira cupped her ears as Yvenifer let out a loud cackle again.

Some WOMEN are worse than beasts!