Scions of Death

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. The times of children playing in the streets, and the safety of one’s home was dead. I wish I could say it was the talons and fangs of dragons that claimed this kill, but that would be a convenient lie. In hunting down these creatures, we had captured something inside ourselves, hidden within the darkest crevices of our souls. Monsters had always lived in the valley, dragons had just stirred them from their slumber.

“They caught another one last night.” Coris pulled her slender body into my coat. The parts of her thick black hair she could manage, she braided and pulled behind her. The more rebellious hairs covered her dust brushed face.

“Just keep your head down. Not our fight.” the words made my guts twist.

The centre of town was two blocks away from us. Thick walls and the sound of a screaming mob couldn’t cover the death cries of the town’s newest victim. Any crime, no matter how small, called for an investigation into ties with dragons. Silva was the woman being “questioned”, no doubt for unfounded accusations. She was new to the area. Her only actual crime was turning down the advances of the less than attractive men at the taverns.

“But I saw her just three moons ago. She fell into old Merrio’s shearing tools. Got a cut on her arm. It bled deep and true.” The girl was too young to realize that fact meant nothing in the court of bigotry.

“Coris, this isn’t our fight.” I said, pulling her along with me.

She let go of my coat and, with a slap that most insects would brush off, she attempted to break my grip. “I am Lycoris Radiata Amaryllis! Daughter to the Spider Lily, the last of Death’s Brides! Mage’s blood flows through my veins. I will be damned if I do not aid those in need.” She proclaimed, still hardly mustering a decent strike.

“The Spider Lily is dead.” My mouth dried and my shoulders tensed as I readied myself for the siege.

“LIE!” Coris Scream as she finally commanded enough strength to pull out of my grip.

Without malice, in a whisper, I spoke. “Our mother died in the war. The same one that brought dragons here. In her name, hate them.” She wouldn’t understand, but that hate was the only thing that could keep her safe now.

“Our mother died, but the Spider Lily can still live. She fought for what was right, she went to war for it. Not for hate, not so people could do this to each other. If we let that happen, then we are killing her.” Coris was hardly thirteen winters old, yet she spoke with more wisdom than most of the adults here.

“And when loving the enemy gets you killed. What will you leave for the Spider Lily?”

“A legacy.” The defiance in her eyes wasn’t foreign. It was the same one I had seen in my mother’s, many times before. The same look she wielded before killing my father.

“You didn’t know her like I had.” I stood still, but wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact with her. I couldn’t, not when she was right.

“If you believe that, then you didn’t know her at all. Half-brother.” I could feel her death stare, digging deep into the back of my head, like a tiny dagger.

“Go then.” It was wrong, challenging her like that.

“What?” Coris lifted her hands over her heart, releasing the tension in her balled fist.

“If you want to die alongside her, I can’t stop you.” My chest fell as I released the breath I was holding.

“Come with me. You’re a child of the Spider Lily as well.” Her voice had lost its whip.

“Sharing a mother is the only reason I take care of you.” Icing my eyes, I turned to look at her. “My father was a hunter. I will be that. Maybe you will become a soldier, just like your father before you. Neither of us were gifted with magic, neither of us will be the Spider Lily.” I had to look her in the eye, watch as I broke her heart. It was what I deserved, and it was the cost of keeping her alive.

“You never tried.” Coris was young, and while I knew she wouldn’t challenge the village on her own. The icy storm in her eyes told me all she needed was me to believe in her. Not for a moment did she look away as I stepped on her dreams. It took everything in me not to smile, not to tell her how proud I was.

“I don’t hear the shadows. Death does not call for my service.” A cold chill crept up the back of my neck. The same time I spoke, there was an ugly familiar sound. The death cry of an innocent woman, then the cheering of a sick crowd.

“I been hearing Death often. This town is their choir.” She heard the mortal’s tribute to the god of shadows. Unlike an actual spouse of Death that heard their true voice. The same voice my mother would speak to at night, the same one that caused my father such jealousy.

“We should go. You know what happens next.” My words were once again a whisper. She only had to see the mob’s butchering once to know she never wanted to again. The moment she remembered it, she should have looked away, hung her head in shame. Abandoned the thought of being a hero. Fear was there, but she gripped it with a renewed tension in her fist.

In our battle of wills, I was the one to turn away. The woman was dead. Coris had nothing left to argue about and after a few steps, I could hear her following behind me. We would have to get to the market before the townspeople arrived.

When the refugees from the south fled up here, the ones that had already gone through the change were forced into a surgery performed by our countries rogue mages. A dragon’s under flesh was scaled and immune to common weapons. Only a mage’s blade, elven enchantments, or dwarven explosions could break the scales under their human flesh. The ritual would rip the scales out. Causing them to be vulnerable in their human forms. Giving up their once proud defense and culture for a chance of safety. To think this place could be considered that was a cruel joke.

Pieces of the once beautiful creature would be paraded around the market, be her beast or human. Facts didn’t matter. The monsters just wanted others to admire their plunder.

The market was mostly empty, even some shopkeepers were missing. In a town like this, there wasn’t much else to do outside of the slaughter. This was the weekly highlight for most.

We approached one shop connected to a large community forge. The only blacksmith opened was Grunt. The Dwarf was a master at her craft. Her short body was packed with dense layers of muscle. With just a cloth to cover her chest, and thick baggy pants, the woman pounded her hammer down on a set of blades for the town’s guard. Her skin was a dark copper, covered in tattoos and soot.

Seeing us approaching, she quenched the steel. Being a dwarf making human sized blades was almost comical. Not that I would dare laugh at her. Grunt had handled a fair amount of the more arrogant males in our town.

“If it’s not my future husband!” I didn’t need to see Coris’s eyes to know they were doing a full flip in the back of her head.

Opening my arms, I reached towards Grunt. The woman’s head was just above my hip, but when I leaned down for a hug, it felt like she was trying to squeeze my spine out of my mouth, something I had seen during the slaughter. Cracking parts of my back I didn’t even know were stiff.

“Do you have the arrow heads I ordered?” I asked, breathing in deep after what felt like the collapsing of my hips.

“Have I ever been late for an order yet?” She asked playfully. Grunt had an undeniable charm to her. A potent confidence, which ignored the fact she was an average-looking woman.

“Never, Not my girl.” I tried my best to match her. She was aware I just turned of age, and Grunt had at least a decade on me. Yet, with the slow aging of dwarves, we looked about the same.

“Why are you so early? I expected you after the… Trial.” her eyes locked with a heat that matched the flames of her forge. I half expected her to spit on the ground after uttering the word.

“Fewer hunters in the forest. Maybe I will catch some large game today.” I said, pulling on my bow.

Grunt looked over at Coris, knowing me better than most. “Never change.” She said with a wink, before turning back to me. Not attending the trials was suspicious, but Grunt knew I wouldn’t want to put Coris through that again.

“Don’t.” my toned tensed as I lifted my chin.

“Still using a bow?” She asked, ignoring my comment.

“It’s what I know.”

“Life, it’s about choices. What you know isn’t always what’s right.” Her tone wasn’t as playful as just moments ago. Knowing it wasn’t her place, she quickly grabbed my arrows and passed them to me, smiling again. “If you catch something big, you come back and buy a rifle.”

“A lance rifle!” Coris broke her brooding teenager routine.

“I just finished one. My finest work yet.” The two women smiled with a glitter in their eyes. Neither were interested in dresses or make up. The expectations of what a lady should be were chains to them. No louder way to destroy chains than with explosions.

“That’s a weapon of war.” I said, taking my arrows. “The bow is silent.”

“pppfffttt, don’t need stealth if only the silent dead remain.” Grunt had a cute habit of laughing at her own jokes, only this time, Coris’s response eclipsed hers. The two of them taking a moment after to breathe in deep and sigh.

An icy wind carrying the cheers of our town’s people blew through the crooked streets. It jumped gleefully between buildings and wooden rafters, shaking off the flaking paint. It passed by us with a flirting kiss on the cheek. The crimson celebration had begun.

“Get her out of here.” Grunt pulled me past her, then gripped Coris’s arm. “Never change, Lycoris Radiata Amaryllis, daughter of the Spider Lily.” She said, pressing her forehead to Coris’s. My sister enjoyed reading about other cultures and embraced the dwarf’s gesture of respect.

We danced in a thin line. Walking away to escape the sight of our neighbors' work, yet trying not to be suspect. All it took for Silva to become these tattered remains was saying no to the wrong man. Even if she was a dragon, would that clear the blood from their hands?

“Stop” Coris demanded.

“What?” I asked, slowing my walk.

“I need to know.” I didn’t hear her footsteps behind me. We were at the edge of the market. Just feet away from escaping.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to them, but it should to us.”

When I faced her, I could see the people entering the market. The horrors they carried over their heads with such delight and pride. “Why?” the word was heavy with the sight of the things I couldn’t forget.

“Because…” she turned. “If not us, then who?”

She watched, pleading to have a heart made of granite. Without the tears, or emotions, she had all rights to express. These monstrous acts of violence ate away at her soul. Her world was an ocean of horrors, yet she refused to drown. Waves crashing into her without a concern to the erosion and irreparable damage it was doing. Every tide pulling parts of her away.

When pieces of Silva arrived at the blacksmith’s shops. We had our answer. The second skin was stronger than most chain mail when treated in the proper heat.

“She was a dragon.” I pointed out.

“She was a woman. Couldn’t change, couldn’t hurt any of us. I never feared dragons. I fear the eyes of our people.” Coris bowed her head. The threat of a similar fate didn’t deter her morals.

Despite what I tried to portray myself as, despite my rage, my fear. I couldn’t correct her, couldn’t lecture this. Not without eroding the strength that made her who she was.

“You had your moment. We should go now.” she didn’t argue with me, and somehow that hurt more.

We made our way through the town. Old decrepit houses surrounded the tall tower in the center. This was where the slaughters took place, at the foot of the sun god’s temple. The all seeing flame from the tower was a beacon. It used the homes of the poor to cast shadows on to the streets. A brilliant blue flame that could be seen in the brightest of days. The only sign of life between the southern and northern borders.

“There used to be flowers here.” Coris finally spoke after we passed the walls of the town.

She referenced a time before the war. Something she had only seen in paintings. They had once lined the road outside of the town with flowers of all colors. Travelling far into the valley, surrounding us with beauty. Life integrated itself into every crack and surface of our community. A time long gone.

Only one kind of flower grew in dragon’s blood. The valley’s new export was red spider lilies and dragon’s flesh. The roads leading to our town wrote a message to all refugees. A letter in blood screamed a warning. “Dragons will be hunted.” If the valley was parchment, the pen was the heads of the slaughtered. Picketed along the main road.

“Flowers are overrated.” I said, pulling my bow over my shoulder.

“Probably smell better.” Coris still spoke with little to no emotion inside her.

“Let’s find out.” I shouldn’t have entertained her. Coris was a beacon in her own right, one that the creatures of this world flocked to. Fear of the light caused them to stomp it out. Drowning in the horrors here was the only way to survive.

“Don’t play with me.” her stare reminded me of a puppy, looking up while you prepared its food.

“Titus still farms roses.” It wasn’t just the flowers. The Mad Orc had become aggressive in his twilight years. Often chasing down would be thieves with his salt gun. I still had scars were the tiny rocks broke the skin on my thigh.

“You’re going to get me shot.” Once again, where fear should have been, she chose something else. The curve at the side of her lips welcomed the challenge.

“It’s not fatal. It’s a rite of passage. There isn’t a kid in this town that doesn’t have the marks of the Mad Orc, but very few have actually stolen a rose. Last time I checked, I was the only one that ever got close enough.” It was as rare as an eclipse, but at that moment, I made a choice. I just wanted to be her older brother, not her mentor. Not after today. Just for a few hours, I would let her be a child.

"Well looks like I will have to get two roses." The wrinkle of her nose and squint of her eyes was my reward. The feeling inside was worth it.

Titus's farm was half a day's walk away from the town. Our hunt would have to wait until tomorrow morning, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. We still had dried rabbit and there was a creek along our path. I couldn't change the world, but for today I would be an island in the storm.

During the walk, Coris had let her guard down. The slaughter weighed on her, but it was a common burden. What should have been boulders that took time and communication to break down was a collection of tiny rocks, which she carried around in her pockets.

"You said your father was a hunter. You never mentioned him before." Coris spoke while we collected water from the creek. After hours of walking, we were close to the Mad Orc's farm.

"I was seven when he…" I still hadn't told her yet. "When Death had seen fit to take him."

"Why would Death take one of their Wife's lovers? I thought that was allowed." Coris asked, wiping away excess water from her face. The creek's water was as fresh as the liquid could get. She had often drank it faster than she should.

“A pretty fact is often a lie. I can’t speak for Death, nor do I pretend to. This life should have taught you something by now, the only real things, the only truths, they are ugly. It’s often best not to ask questions.” I tried to continue to brood after my dark comment, but much like my sister, I had drank more than my mouth could handle. And after my edgy monolog, water had found its way down my chin and on to my shirt.

While this wasn’t by design, it had the desired effect. Telling her what our mother had done would cause her to question the martyr she had created in her mind. As much as I wanted her to leave those kinds of thoughts behind, the following questions would cause her to hate me as well. If she ever asked, why our mother had died?

“HA! I’m Lox. I’m so dark and misunderstood.” She mocked while stomping around the creek.

Cupping a handful of water, I threw it at her. Splashing her directly in the face. The cold liquid demanded a response. She gasped in the air deeply and blinked wildly.

“My face!” were the only words she could think of.

“You needed a bath.” I smirked.

“Ok, big man! It’s go time.” She jumped into the water and with both hands, she began her assault. Throwing wave after wave of water. Pretending to command the element as naturally as the water Elves.

Covering my face and my smile, I yelled back. “Hey! You’re going to toss up the mud! Stop!”

“Say sorry!” she continued her attack.

“I’m sorry, you win.” It had been a while since I had smiled like that.

“You’re such a baby. Little baby of Death.” Her face dropped as soon as the words came out. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry Lox.”

“That’s enough. We should go.” I said, walking away from her. She had not meant harm, but that didn’t dull the blades in her words.

During my childhood, the adults avoided me, and other children refused to play with me. My mother was a bride of Death. Her first born should have inherited her abilities. Yet, the church of the sun considered it a sin for a male to court Death. It took years to convince the town’s people I couldn’t hear the call of the shadows.

The more mature parts of me felt bad for ending the moment so suddenly. It was hard to balance the fact that Coris was still a child, and the need to prepare her for this world. Anything could happen to either of us. We didn’t live in a time where one could be unprepared. Yet, if I believed that so full heartily, why was I even taking her to pick roses?

“Hey, I’m sorry.” I said, without turning back to her.

“Are you mad?” she asked.

“No, just sometimes I get stuck in my head. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why do you push me away?” Her voice trailed off, like smoke reaching into the sky.

“Coris?” I turned back to see an empty road behind me. The dying light of the short day hung shadows over the opening.

“Lox!” Coris yelled from over a hill just on the other side of the road.

Running up, I followed her voice. I climbed over the hill. The Mad Orc had expanded his farm since I had been here last. Without knowing, we had stumbled into his territory. Laid out in front of us was a break in the trees and a vast barren ground, then large square patches of rose bushes. Hundreds of tinker bees nurtured the plants. The small gnome built machines buzzed throughout the farm. Their lights flashed neon green and pink.

“They look like fairies!” Coris rarely looked like a little girl, but as she hopped and covered her smile with her tiny hands. I remembered why we had come.

“This area is unfamiliar to me.” I said, looking over the freshly plowed ground between the rose farm and tree line.

Coris pulled over her bag and took off her coat. “So we run it.” She said, her smile replaced with a tightening of her lips, eyes scanning her surroundings. She was without fear, all emotion consumed by a devouring focus.

“It’s not that easy. The Mad Orc is fast. He doesn’t look it, but when they drop on all four, orcs are faster than even the most nimble elf.” memories of Titus chasing me down with his salt gun sent shivers down my spine.

“Scared? I’ll protect you.” Coris smirk.

“Just need you to keep up.” I jumped from the tree line and made my way into the barren soil.

“That’s cheating!” she screamed from behind me. Despite being half my size, she was catching up pretty quickly.

Leaning my head forward I doubled down on out running her. As we approached I could see some of the tinker bees lifting off from the bushes and blinking red. The Mad Orc would be upon us soon. Bushes planted in the new soil weren’t blooming yet, we would have to run deep into the farm before we could reach the matured roses.

“I’m winning!” Coris yelled, as she jumped and slapped my shoulder while spinning. Landing perfectly sure footed, she continued her run.

My chest felt heavy and breathing was like sucking in fire. The dust from the fields had aged my lungs, giving me the performance of an elderly man.

“Slow down.” I coughed out. “We are going to get shot.” My half laugh wasn’t fooling anyone. I was not looking forward to losing the ability to sit right for the next couple weeks.

“Run!” A woman’s voice came from between the bushes.

“What?” I asked, slowing down.

“Secrets can’t hide. He smells her.” That’s when I noticed the shadows between the bushes. Hiding at the edge of my vision was a silhouette of a woman in a black dress.

“Coris!” while calling for her I could see it, the tinker bees were rising and blinking their red warning lights, just in front of me, and more coming from the direction Coris was approaching. “He’s here! Come back!”

“I am not scared of the…”

I turned the corner of the bush just in time to see a massive body of muscle smash into Coris’s slight frame. With a swing of his arm, the Mad Orc flung her into the air. What little hope I had that she could survive such an attack was squashed when the Orc swung a large rifle from his back and shot it. Coris’s already flying body spun with the collision of bullets.

The weapon spit out sparks and fire as it barked out another shot of pellets. This one ripped through a bush that Coris had landed behind.

“That isn’t salt. You shot her. You’re killing my sister!” At some point, I had collapsed on to my knees and had slid. With shaking hands, I tried to cover my mouth as I puked.

The Mad Orc looked over at me. “Run boy! I could smell it. I know what they are.” The Orc was at least three times my size. His skin was thick to the point of being armor. My arrows would do little to him.

“He thinks she’s a bride of Death. He smells you.” The shadows mocked.

“No! Please!” I pleaded as the Orc marched toward Coris’s body.

“Pay tribute.” I could see her, emerging from the surrounding shadows, one of Death’s emissaries. The woman in the black dress. The thing I had spent my whole life ignoring.

I ran toward where Coris had landed. Only making it there to see the Orc standing just above her body. He shot another round into her. The arms flailed and then dropped motionless. Images of her life flashed through my mind. From the moment my mother passed her to me, the day we held each other after the news of us becoming orphans, to the smile as she jumped past me just seconds ago.

My legs kept moving and before I knew it, I was throwing my body over Coris’s. A pathetic excuse for a shield. Despite the futility of the action, I refused to do nothing. Sharing Coris’s determination to stand against the ocean.

“It was my fault! I told her to come here. Stop! She’s all I have!” I screamed out.

“Move aside, boy.” The Mad Orc demanded.

“I will not!” I cried, holding her closer.

“Look at her!” the Orc easily ripped Coris from me and held me up by my hair. Looking at what he was pointing at. I could see Coris. The clothes where the shots had hit were torn. There was very little blood. Under the blown out flesh was the shine of pearl white dragon scales.

The Orc threw me aside and pointed his weapon at Coris again.

“Wait…”

“No! She is one of them. You don’t choose who your parents breed with, but you choose what side you take.” The Orc dropped his rifle and revealed a long Elven blade. The closer he brought it to Coris, the brighter the red enchantments on it glowed.

“Death.” I muttered.

“I speak for the one truth.” The woman in black took form next to me.

“I offer my soul.” I said, lifting my arrow. The weapon in mortal hands would do nothing to such an opponent.

“Do you promise to stay true to their embrace?” She asked. Running her finger along the arrow.

When I didn’t speak right away, she looked at me, lifting her finger. Just beyond the arrow, I could see Coris twitch as the Orc lifted her. And when her bright blue eyes opened, I knew my answer.

“I promise.” Satisfied with my words, the lady in black dived into my weapon and then up my arm. A thick black smoke poured from the arrow.

“Then pay tribute.” She whispered in the back of my mind.

Releasing the arrow, I knew there was no turning back now. The weapon transcended its original design. Before, it would have done little more damage than what the salt gun had to me, but now, it was powerful enough to sever the arms from the Mad Orc.

“What are you doing!?” the Mad Orc screamed as he dropped my sister. Tumbling onto his back, he bled black smoke as Death demanded its tribute.

“Choosing a side.” I said, releasing another arrow.