The Prophecy

“It can see me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous… no one sees us. That’s the point of camouflage.”

The red dragon slowly turned its long jewel-colored neck to eye the black dragon flying next to her. Her nostrils flared, and she huffed a short quick breath through her nose. Smoke rings rushed forth and circled above her head for a moment before vanishing. Her ruby eyes narrowed, and she clenched her teeth, “I am acutely aware of how camouflage works. Do not patronize me!” she growled lowly through her dagger-like teeth with an emphasis on “not.” She turned her gaze back to the colorful earth below and watched for a moment longer before adding, “I know what I see, and it sees me,” her tone only slightly less menacing.

The ebony dragon tilted his head as he watched his mate for a moment. His charcoal gray eyes sparkled with mischief. A smirk began to creep over his lizard lips. His tongue flicked out for a moment as he forced his chuckle down to the pit of his stomach, cleared his throat, and responded matter-of-factly, “Well then, nothing left to do but eat the interloper. We cannot risk the thing telling stories of us after all.” He angled his immense, muscular body towards the earth, beginning a circular descent closer to the thing nestled in a patch of verdant grass laced with tiny white flowers. His fiery mate matched his movements.

It was important that they angled their bodies to remain camouflaged from anything that may be watching from below. Their iridescent underbellies reflected the surrounding light and sky making them invisible to those that were not aware of their existence. And perhaps, even to those that were. They circled slowly, approaching the green earth with watchful eyes. As their massive dragon claws reached forward to land upon the soft brush, they seamlessly transformed into their human forms. A petite woman with flowing fiery hair that reached to her waist stood clothed in a red leather skirt, shirt, and moccasins with black daggers strapped to each thigh. Her mate stood next to her tall and muscular. His head was shaved on the sides and a thick, black braid stretched over the center of his head and reached halfway down his back. A silver sword with a ruby inlaid hilt was strapped across his back over his black leather tunic.

He glanced over at the woman, Aila, with a teasing gleam in his eyes, “Let’s go find the beast.” His voice was a purr of confidence that Aila found appealing even after a century of being together.

She chuckled lightly, “Perhaps you should stay here and keep safe.” She glanced at her man, Callan, through the ruby eyes of a dragon, the one sign that exposed that they were not exactly human.

They had landed in a small round meadow in the center of a lush forest. Tall verdant oak trees stood high and proud around them. The smell of lilac was carried to them by the wind. They stepped silently through the high grass in the direction of the thing that had been watching them. The shade of the thick forest immediately cooled them. The ground, littered with decades of fallen leaves and forest debris, sunk slightly with each step they took. As they traveled, they took care to not cause any harm to the earth they so loved and protected. They moved under low-hanging branches, gently moving aside long grasses to not break a stem. Hopped over the small stream so as not to disturb the frogs, fish, and bugs that called the water “home.”

A painful cry caught their attention. They glanced at each other before scanning their surroundings once more, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise. The charcoal gray eyes of Callan saw the movement first. The long grass dipped and bowed toward them from an unseen force within. Out of devotion and the need to protect what he loved most, he stepped in front of Aila and unsheathed his sword in one smooth motion. The soft brush of steel against leather tempted their ears, but their eyes stayed trained on the brush before them.

“It could be a fairy…” Callan said with annoyance. “Those bastards are nothing but bad news.” His voice was gruff now as he changed from his usual mischievous, friendly self to the highly trained warrior he was.

Slightly irked by Callan stepping in front of her, Aila stepped up beside him, her long delicate fingers wrapped around the hilt of one of her black daggers. “It’s not a fairy… it smells like…” Aila’s voice trailed off as the noise maker crawled into the open, “... a child.” she finally finished her sentence.

The child, no more than two years of age pushed the long grass down before her as she crawled out from her hiding place. Tiny white flowers stuck in her brown hair, panic alit her emerald green eyes, a purple knot had formed on her forehead, and blood dripped from a gash on her cheek and dotted the dirt-stained white linen dress that clung to her small body. Her cheeks were pale and streaked with red tear stains though she no longer cried.

Aila moved in a soundless blur. She scooped the child up and held her close. Turning towards Callan, her red eyes seemed to crackle with anger, “Who would do this?” she demanded, her voice a mixture of anger and rage.

Callan’s gray eyes fell on the babe in his woman’s arms. He stepped over toward them sliding his sword back into its scabbard as he moved. He ran a finger over the lump on the child’s head. The toddler looked up at him, still not uttering a sound. “She’s an elemental,” he whispered, “Earth by the looks of it.” A single, silent tear fell from the corner of the girl’s eye. The man reached out and wiped it away gently.

Aila nodded, “It answers how she could see us.”

“Come,” he urged, “we need to find her home.” Callan turned and disappeared into the bush following the trail the child had left behind; Aila followed close behind with the child wrapped protectively in her arms.

The two dragons paused and studied the land before them. The trail the little girl had left was gone. She had instinctively, magically covered her trail as she had moved. Callan squatted running his fingers lightly over the ground. He scoured the land with his gaze, but try as he might, the trail was cold. He stood up and looked at the child.

“You did a good job, child. Now you need to show us the way, so we can help you.” His voice was kind, yet strong. The child studied him as if deciding. After a moment, Callan heard a slight rustle and turned to look toward where the sound had come from. He watched as the grasses parted and trees bent outwards showing a clear path through the rugged forest. He looked back to the child, “That’ll do, little one.” He turned and started down the path. Aila followed close behind.

As the path came to an end, a bloody scene of terror and violence unfolded. Pale bodies of men, women, and children were strewn about as if they were dolls. The small cottages of the once quaint village of Elementals were ransacked into heaps of debris. The fountain in the center of the village spewed forth red water.

A soft cry of despair escaped Aila’s lips. Her arms tightened around the child positioning the girl to hide her view of her once-loved home. “I’m going to find something to change her into and clean her wounds,” she said sadly to Callan.

Callan nodded, his watchful, gray eyes scouring the scene for any sign of danger as Aila and the child ducked into the only house still standing. He then turned and checked for any signs of life in the still bodies. His heart sank as he went to each lifeless body. He moved each and laid them in a row next to each other. When he was done, four women, three men, and three children waited for their final rights. As he finished, Aila returned from the house, the babe tucked away safely in the building. She looked upon the lifeless bodies, tears stung her eyes. Callan walked towards her and wrapped her in his arms for a moment.

“Come, love, we need to finish this. We can’t leave them here like this.” His voice was soft and sad.

Aila allowed herself brief comfort in her man’s arms before finally nodding. Without a word, they both transformed into their true beings. The large dragons began to dig. They heaved large swaths of earth aside working together until before them was a long, deep circle. They gently lifted each of the lifeless elementals and laid them into the hole so that they formed a circle; their feet at the center. The two dragons bowed their regal heads and wished the deceased a quick and pleasant journey to their final resting place before covering them. Aila turned towards Callan and nuzzled his neck with her red nose. He softly ran his cheek over hers, closing his eyes for a moment before moving back.

“We need to go,” he urged softly.

Aila nodded and reached over lifting the roof off of the small house the babe was waiting in. She reached into the house with a large red hand and picked up the cradle. The child was nestled safely inside. Aila brought the cradle to her chest leaned back onto her back legs, opened her great fiery wings, and launched herself into the sky. Callan watched as she flew, then turned and sadly looked back over the ruined, dead village. He looked down at the patch of newly disturbed earth, then leaned down and breathed a stream of molten dragon fire over it. Ten rectangular stone pillars arose from the earth each connected by another large stone that lay from one pillar to the next.

Callan sat back and looked over what was created. He nodded deciding the large stone circle was a fitting marker for those within. He heaved himself into the air and flew quickly to catch up with his mate and her charge.

They flew in silence until they reached the top of the Serpent Tooth mountain, home of the Einar. Aila landed softly, laying the cradle on the ground before transforming into her human self. She leaned down and removed the child from the cradle. The small girl still slept. Callan landed changing as he descended. Long, quick strides carried him to Aila’s side. They both turned and hurried to the Chief’s longhouse.

The chief sat upon his throne at the end of the building. Dozens of Einar sat at large, long tables talking and eating. Aila and Callan rushed by without a word before stopping before their chief.

Callan spoke first, “My Lord, there has been an attack on the elemental village to the south.”

Aila stepped forward and presented the small girl, “She is the only survivor, her people were all taken from her.”

As Aila’s words floated to the closest tables, a hush settled over the building. Jeweled dragon eyes turned and watched the scene. The chief’s eyes widened as he looked upon the child.

“When Earth itself is attacked, and a child of the elements lives amongst the dragons, darkness will settle upon all the land. The forces of light will be called into combat for they alone will have the power to save the souls of the innocent.”

The chief stood and walked towards the child as he spoke the prophecy out loud and placed his hand on the small girl’s forehead. Though the chief spoke softly, the words seemed to thunder through the room. Einar began to rise and turn towards their chief. A hush of eminent battle settled over the mountaintop.

The chief looked up and across the faces of his people as they waited for his next words. He nodded slowly, a frown forming upon his lips.

“My people, my friends, my family!” the chief’s voice boomed and echoed through the longhouse. “Today marks the end of our Golden Age of solitude and prosperity! Tomorrow we meet our allies! Tomorrow we plan for war!”

At the last word, the Einar people roared as one. The cry of righteousness, the call of light, the howl of strength.