Saliya

The rain was cold as it hit my head and rolled down my face. A steady percussion that was not enough to soothe the ragged edges of my grief. I stared unseeing at a cluster of star thistle, purple flowers shivering in the downpour. At my feet lay the bloody shards of my heart. I wanted to scream, to cry, but the loss was so deep it tore out my voice and swallowed my mind. I couldn’t process it, fathom how it had happened, or why I hadn’t been there. I stood, rooted to the spot. Exposed and vulnerable in my agony. If it cost me my life, I didn’t care.

A wind gusted the rain into my face and I closed my eyes, involuntarily pulling a deep breath into my lungs through my nose.

A smell reached me and my eyes snapped open. The smell was followed by the unmistakable sound of creaking leather, metal, and bodies moving through the forest. Between one second and the next, my grief sharpened to rage. They were here. I turned in place and moved fluidly, and without thought. A predator. I stalked through the forest around me. Wet broadleaf plants caressed my skin as I passed silently through them. Avoiding the patches of dagger thistle that would give my presence away with their chiming that barely required a breath of air to activate. The shadows held me as I chose a spot and waited. I could hear them approaching. They moved with the arrogance of their kind, noisy, believing themselves invincible.

A line of men appeared. Their armor glinted in the faint, rain-soaked daylight. Their hair was wet and clung to their heads, the water not disguising the oily quality. The men reeked of unwashed skin. I watched them approach in a loosely formed line two men wide. They walked so carelessly. As if they had not just committed the vilest of crimes mere feet away. My body tensed as they approached me. Ignorant of the death that awaited them. I assessed each one, planning my attack when movement caught my eye. Long brown hair and pale blue cloth flashed before the men parted enough for me to see who walked in their midst.

Nestled amongst them, was a woman and she carried a small child. My lips curled back in a silent snarl as pain, rage, and bitterness swept through me. The men formed a protective ring around the woman and child as they marched. Keeping that small life safe.

The urge to take my revenge nearly overpowered all rational thought. If they carried salt, my revenge would not be complete, so I swallowed my rage, pushing it down until it simmered within me. I bided my time.

They passed mere feet from me, oblivious to my location amongst the trees. I listened and waited as they pushed through the thick blue foliage that gave the area its name. They were fools. Moments after the group passed out of sight a hint of sound drew my gaze. I couldn’t see who it was, but I could hear. Someone followed the group, still quite far away. He was skilled, moving like a shadow, whispering past leaves so soft they barely rustled and the lack of chiming, indicated he passed dagger thistles, that even I struggled to avoid unscathed. He was the one to watch when the time came. He was likely a scout, guarding their backtrail.

I judged the distance between the group and the one that was following, slipping between them, silent as a cloud. Their pace was steady as they moved beyond the blue forest and into the dark valley. They had the look of those that lived at Darkmoon Keep, that impressive relic of a once great civilization, if not the behavior. Although I rarely interacted with Darkmoon my impression had always been that they were more cautious than these men had been. And more respectful of my kind.

I seethed as I watched them move in synch to keep the woman and child safe. They must be precious to them, or perhaps to some lord at the keep, I reasoned. I followed, hating the way she comforted the child. She would suffer as I had. They would all suffer.

The sun began to lower and the rain slowed. The path darkened and I watched the woman trip. She would have fallen had the man in front of her not caught her. He gripped her arm and she made a noise. I frowned. He let her go and they continued. The moon rose up and the clouds parted, bathing the path they walked in silver light. I watched the woman stumble again and catch herself. The men did not appear to notice.

They reached a small clearing and slowed, setting their packs on the ground. I crouched in the shadows of a giant elder tree and watched. Each man unpacked and set up while the woman created a fire, her child clinging to her skirts. I scanned each pack as it was emptied. I watched each man as the perimeter was set. Skillie thread to keep the pigkin of the valley from invading their camp and bothering them. A smart precaution, as the little creatures adored human blood and carried disease. The woman began cooking something, as the men sat down on their sleeping rolls and waited. The woman looked exhausted. I frowned again.

The little girl moved away from the woman as she filled bowls and carried them to the men. Each man took a bowl without any thanks. I watched the woman move back to the fire and the pot that rested on there as thoughts I did not want to have invaded my mind. A startled cry snapped my attention to the little girl, she was on her bottom on the ground near one of the men. “Not for you brat,” the man said and kicked his foot out at her, catching her in her small chest and sending her toppling over.

Rage blossomed.

“Saliya,” called the woman and hurried towards the little girl, a large man stepped into her path and grabbed her when she tried to pass.

She struggled and he struck her. Another man grabbed her from behind and spun her around.

“No,” she protested as the man who had hit her hiked up her skirts.

I stood, my rage boiling over, gaze focused on the man undoing his belt when a small helpless sound drew my gaze back to the child. She was trying to crawl away and the man who had kicked her was holding her ankle. He pulled her little body towards him laughing.

A startled yell turned my focus yet again. The woman dodged around the large man, who was clutching his groin and the other had a bloodied nose. I moved quickly, as the woman raced to the little girl. I heard it before I saw it. The arc of silver and then she stumbled, a knife in her chest. She almost fell to her knees as the little girl cried out.

“Momma” she struggled and the man who held her laughed. I moved behind him, silent and swift as the woman looked from the girl before her and into my eyes briefly. I promised her death with my gaze and then I removed the man’s head. The dead man’s hands convulsed and released the little girl who ran to her mother.

The men grabbed their swords and stood and shouted. Yet not even one of them carried draconian salt and so they had no power over me. I tore them limb from limb. I burned their skin and melted their bones as they screamed. I was as merciless as they had been when they shattered my egg and stole my only child. Their swords could not pierce my skin the way they had my unhatched baby. I relished their cries of pain and pleas for mercy. And when the last one lay dead upon my claws I turned to the woman and child.

I stalked towards her as she watched me with deep blue eyes. She was near death and still held the child behind her. Blood dripped from her mouth.

“Please,” she said, voice wet. “Do not punish her for what those men did.” I froze. She had been there. I looked into her eyes again, and this time, saw the eyes of a mother. My grief crashed through me and my heart swelled. Every second of the journey, I'd ignored the truth before me. Her shoes, silk slippers not meant for rough forest paths, the child's clothing, suited for sleeping in a bed, not a journey outside. The bruises on her arms and the way the men had looked at her and treated her. I had ignored all those signs, consumed by loss and jealousy. I lowered my large frame to the ground and looked her in the eye.

“I will not punish an innocent, for the loss of another innocent. When I looked upon you I was filled with rage for what you had, that I had lost. But I see that you are a mother like me and also a victim of these men. I, Amrithia Sor, will raise your daughter Saliya as my own. I will protect her with the fire in my blood and the magic in my heart, with my very flesh and bone. She will not suffer the same fate as my child, or of her mother,” I said.

The woman’s legs collapsed and I caught her in one large hand. I laid her gently on the ground and little Saliya, crawled to her mother’s side. Her small frame shaking. I pulled my magic within me, taking the shape I hated most. The change was fast, yet I still closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the woman’s life was fading fast.

“Saliya,” she spoke to her daughter, and the girl looked at her. “This is Amrithia, she is going to take care of you." The little girl shot me a confused look. She had not screamed seeing me in my natural form and in human form was even less afraid.

The woman held her daughter’s hand with one of her own and reached for me with the other. I took her frail hand in my now human one and looked her in the eyes as the light left them. The little girl knew something was wrong but death is an impossible concept for one so young. I stroked her little golden head as she cried and clung to her Mom. I sang the song of healing and let my magic tend to her bruised ribs. As she started to calm down, I gently lifted her into my lap and her small arms found their way around my neck.

“Hush little Saliya, your mother is with the blessed above, watched over by Aralathis, mother of all dragons and you will see her again someday.” She let out a whimper and my sad heart swelled. She was now my daughter, as much as the one I had birthed had been. While I grieved for my baby and for the pain my new child felt, my heart also filled with love. A dragon’s heart is eternal. When we love, we love forever.

The shiver over my skin was my first warning. The soft thud of a boot on dirt, my second. I looked up and there stood the scout I had heard and forgotten about. His eyes were fixed upon the woman next to me and in his hands, he carried a Red thorn dagger, with a draconian salt hilt. His eyes moved over the woman and to me.

His gaze hardened seeing the child in my lap. I knew his words before he spoke them.

“Release the child, and I will leave you unharmed Dragon,” he said. I contemplated his dark skin and eyes and could find no resemblance to either the woman or the blue-eyed child in my lap. Yet family was not the product of blood alone, my new daughter was proof of that.

“I swore an unbreakable oath to her mother, that I would raise this child as my own and protect her with my life. I cannot release her to you,” I said calmly. It was the truth and my words were gentle. His anger tumbled from his face, as he realized I had not harmed the mother and stolen the child.

“She is my foster niece and the only family I have left,” he said. He stepped forward and my gaze slid to the red blade in his hand. I had accurately judged his skill. Only the best soldiers on the continent carried red thorn daggers. He moved to the women’s body and I watched his face. He briefly closed his eyes and then sheathed the dagger. He knelt next to her and said a prayer to the Goddess Carisa, guardian of the innocent, to guide his sister's soul to the beyond.

He looked at me then. “I ask for two favors.” He said, the weariness thick in his voice. Two. I carefully nodded my head. Young Saliya slept in my lap, oblivious to her uncle's voice.

“My first favor is that you burn her mother's body, she was not of my blood but was still a Rashike, as am I. The second is that you allow me to remain in Saliya’s life.” My eyes narrowed and I could see he noticed. “She is the last of my family. I swore upon my parents' lives that I would protect my sister and her child. I cannot break this vow.” I regarded him as he stood before me. It was hard to judge his age, as human lives seemed to blur as they flew from birth toward old age and death. He was healthy and strong and had the grace all who carried red thorn daggers possessed. A curious sensation to know the story of his short life, momentarily surprised me, as I met his dark eyes.

I stood and he watched me. The years I spent in the great desert were far away, yet my memories of the Rashike people were clear. He could not break his vow, it would be easier to ask him to remove his still-beating heart. I would need to remain in this form for most of my new daughter's growing years, having another human around could prove useful. However…

“I will agree to these favors Rashike, on two conditions of my own. First, you swear a blood oath to never betray me, and second, you give me your true name.” I watched his face as I spoke and registered no hint of surprise or hesitation. He had expected my terms. This was good, I had not misjudged him. He was not only a Rashike and a warrior, but he was also Sha. The rarest of warriors. Not only skilled but trained at the temple of Sha, God of war and wisdom.

He withdrew his dagger and sliced his palm. “Si roth Sha, I swear this oath, Si roth Anon, my blood binds it. I, Ahmed Mhmir Set Razir, will sacrifice my life before I betray the daughter of Aralathis and guardian mother of my niece Saliya.” I stepped forward and caught a drop of blood as it flew toward the ground. I placed it on my tongue.

“Ahmed Mhmir Set Razir, you are oath-bound,” I swallowed and watched the golden threads of my magic weave the blood oath into place. A slight shiver raced over his skin as the magic settled upon him. He was bound to me as much as I was to him, as much as Saliya was bound to me and I to her.

I turned to her mother's body and a moment of regret pierced me as I summoned the fire in my blood. I moved the small child in my arms, freeing one as she nuzzled my neck. Palm extended I summoned my fire and watched the light dance across the golden hair spilled on the ground. “She will know love and joy,” I breathed to her mother's spirit, as I released my flame. I turned away to shield my child from the heat. I had used heart fire and the body would be gone in seconds. Ahmed stepped back, the heat too great, yet his eyes remained fixed. The light danced in them and turned brown to gold, as his grief shone raw.

I could not live amongst humans. I was too old and could no longer hide my nature. My every movement betrayed me and my power was so great, it could be seen in my eyes. Yet, I could not raise a human child as I could a dragon.

I turned to Ahmed. “We will go to the red Mountain, to the ancient city of Aralis.” I said softly. I felt his surprise, even though he contained it admirably. Most humans thought Aralis was a myth. Ancient and powerful and where I was born. It was empty now, but magic maintained the buildings. It would be a suitable place to raise Saliya and teach her. A life without other human children would be a lonely one, and I felt some gratitude that I would not be her sole companion.

Without another word, I began the long walk. Ahmed a shadow behind me. The yellow light of Lithi, joined the silvery light of Orvalis, in the sky as we walked. The light from two full moons, bright enough for any human to travel with ease. Ahead lay a future that was not carved in stone, yet I felt certain would contain small joys. Saliya would adjust and I would learn to be more human. A hint of that future ghosted across my inner eye when I thought of my silent companion. He had a role to play and I wondered at the bond that would form between us, as I looked at the child in my arms, safe, warm, and precious. Saliya would wander and I had no doubt I would find her on many an occasion, candle in hand, testing the boundaries of the forest. This was the nature I sensed within her and I approved. I would teach her to be brave, but wise, daring yet not reckless. And someday, when she was grown, I would teach her how to fly.