Page 5 of Of Flames and Fallacies (Arterian #1)

five

DAEJA

An aching pain pulses in my skull, and my lungs strain with each rasping inhale. A rattling cough holds my breath hostage, and my eyes fly open as I suck in air. The rest of my senses spring to life one by one. Smoke taints my nostrils. My hand rests in front of me, blades of grass tickling my palm. I test my fingers by curling them inward, digging them into the cold hard earth. I’m laying stomach down on the ground, the dark silhouettes of trees stretching up into the night sky. An obscure hum rumbles far off in the distance.

The shadows shift, and small shadowed limbs and claws emerge from the black. I scramble to my feet. A black lizard-like creature stares at me with wide, white eyes. Unblinking. Unmoving. The animal chirps at me… chirps?

I fumble for something nearby and find an embarrassingly small stick, pointing it at the creature. “Get back!” I hiss.

The creature blinks, taking another step forward as I wave the stick wildly. Its gaze locks onto the wood in my hands. As I swing the stick, part of it splits from the main branch and flies off a few yards away. The creature darts after it, trotting back toward me with the stick in its mouth.

The moonlight highlights the animal’s small, daggered teeth clenched around the stick. I freeze as the creature drops the stick at my feet and backs up a few paces. When we sit in silence for a few moments, I test it. I wave the stick again, and the creature watches my every move. Chucking the stick as far as I can, I bolt in the opposite direction toward the river.

The trees and river flash by me, and I finally slow as I approach my father’s and brother’s crosses. Surely, I would have lost the creature by now. I drop to sit by a tree, trying to even my breathing through hacking coughs.

Glowing eyes bounce toward me, the light of dawn reflecting in its pupils. I fish into the satchel my mother gave me, hopeful for something to defend myself, and whip out a dagger.

“I will use this!” I declare.

The creature slows and drops the branch a few yards from me, locking eyes once more and waiting. I stare it down through narrowed eyes, hoping it’ll scurry off if I’m intimidating enough.

Instead, the creature carries the stick over to me, clearly unbothered by my dagger, and drops the branch inches from my toes. It backs up with a wiggle of its snake-like tail, eyes wide with what I assume is anticipation. The creature’s proximity affords me a chance to study it. Dazzling black scales armor its body, and nubbed horns line its small head. It’s about the size of a large lizard except…lizards don’t have wings.

A dragon.

My mind races… what if Willard turned me in? He couldn’t possibly, could he? We’re friends. Is that why my mother warned me not to trust anyone?

My mother…

Tears creep up on me as my new reality settles in. My life’s mission was to keep her alive—to take care of her—and I failed. It all swims back: the roof melting, the exploding window spraying glass shards, the smoke blotting out the stars.

A tremor snakes up my hand holding the dagger pointed at the dragon hatchling. Could this creature have been the one to start the fire? Maybe it was the reason my mother died. A sob consumes me at the thought of her, and the reminder of her absence. I’m nearly drowning in desperation for all the things I wanted to hear from her. From our very last moments together.

I love you.

I cling to the words. Replaying them over and over in my mind as if they were something I could audibly hear. Last night was the first time I heard them in so long. Perhaps the first time I heard them since my brother died.

Died. And now they were all dead. My eyes narrow at the little beast, and my fingers clench into the hilt as I hold the dagger steady. Aiming it straight between the two wide, white eyes. Since I was still sitting against a tree, the creature had a much better angle to attack me. Yet, if I tried to inch up to my feet it might become threatened. Dragons were unpredictable.

I should kill it first. Before it attacks.

The hatchling blinks slowly at me. Something about the soft movement freezes me. The fish I caught I could never look in the eyes as I gutted them. The idea of killing something while looking it in the eyes…it was too much. In a way, it felt barbaric.

The dagger falls from my hand and clatters to the ground. I sink my head into my hands. I can’t. I can’t do it. Despair’s daggered claws sink into me and pull me down. Down far enough where I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I should have died with my mother. I should have died a long time ago. It should have been me instead of my brother. A cry shakes my body, my palms growing wet with each shed tear.

Something nudges my boot, and I look up.

The creature sits, its eyes round as it chirps. It nuzzles against my leg, and I quickly shift away. My mother’s words an echoed whisper in my mind.

Take her to the Dragon Lands.

My mouth parts, and I wipe away rivers of tears. Her…who else would she have been referring to? The rest of what my mother said echoes in my mind.

Find Cole, and take her to the Dragon Lands. You aren’t safe here. Don’t come back. Trust no one.

The urgency in her voice, the clarity in her eyes. It was as clear as I have seen her in so long. But what I couldn’t wrap my head around was how she could have possibly been lucid.

“You’re a her? How did she know about you?” I croak, almost immediately bemused I’m speaking out loud. And to an animal, at that.

The hatchling scurries toward me again as I hold out an open hand to pause her, but the tip of her nose brushes my palm. A shock of energy sings in my hand and trembles up my arm, my body writhing in response. A burst of air flares out from around us, rustling the leaves of the trees and blades of grass.

Daeja.

I don’t know how or why. There’s no one around me to whisper it, nor is it spelled out in the sky. But somehow I know that’s her name. I pull my hand back and look at my open palm. A faint white ring wraps around the middle finger of my left hand.

The dragon hatchling—Daeja—takes my flat open hand as an invitation and climbs up to sit in my palm. Cautiously, I bring her closer to my face to look at her. Part of me is nervous this may be when she decides to strike me. But where I expect malice, danger, and ferality—there’s a softness, trust, and…something else I can’t quite put my finger on.

Before I can think better of it, I hold out a finger to inspect her wings. She takes the moment to lean into my hand and rubs her cheek alongside my finger.

Admittedly, for being a dragon, she’s actually kind of…cute.

“You’re an odd little thing,” I mutter. How would my mother know about dragons or the Dragon Lands? Why would she possibly spend her last breaths telling me such a thing? And could I trust she was telling me these things in a sane state of mind, after her years of manic episodes and hysteria?

…I can’t do this.

If I couldn’t keep my own mother alive, how am I supposed to keep a dragon hatchling alive? If I’m caught, I’m dead. Not to mention that’s if I don’t die from a rebel attack, starvation, or the cold.

I set the dragon hatchling down on the ground.

“Just keep going north and you’ll eventually get back to your lands.” I point toward the jagged mountain tops of Dragon’s Back Ridge stretching above the forest.

I gather my satchel, but the hatchling snags my dagger off the ground before I can grab it. I jolt forward, and she dodges me. Her eyes sparkle and tail quivers. She bounds off, and I stumble after her.

“Hey, get back here!” I hiss and follow her darting shadow. “Put that down! You’ll hurt yourself!”

She squeals at our game of chase and stops at the river’s edge. Dropping the dagger, she leans forward to sniff the water. Her body teetering far too close to the river’s depths.

My pulse races as I manage to catch her by the tail before she falls in. It’s the first time I’ve ever been fast enough. My attention momentarily flickers over to the two crosses before Daeja wriggles in my grasp and I let her go. Collecting my dagger off the ground, I place it back into my satchel.

The morning light catches the shine of… coins? Where did she get this? I pull out a brown journal, loaf of bread, and a flask of water. Every item I sift through, the seriousness of my mother’s commands sinks in. She had planned this. She had thought this through. But it still didn’t explain all the questions and doubts I had swirling around me.

King Aaric closed the northern border long before I was born. It’s a nearly impossible quest to get to the border alive and alone. And that doesn’t factor in with an illegal dragon. Maybe that’s why she told me to find Cole first…he could help me.

My mother met Cole multiple times. Although, it was difficult to get any sort of indication on whether or not she approved of him. Not when most days she was either sleeping or having a mental break.

I have to admit, a part of me wants to see him again. Craves to see him again. Perhaps make amends.

My gaze floats back over to the two crosses. What would they do? I wait for an answer—a prod in a specific direction—anything. But I feel nothing. Despite how much it hurts, I think of my mother. Daeja watches me curiously, her head tilting far to the side.

If it was my mother’s last request, I’ll honor her memory by doing it. I have to find Cole.

Recounting my interaction with Vivian, Cole has to be in Blackfell. Blackfell is a few week’s trek from here. Maybe a bit more at my pace and if I stick to the cover of the forest for as long as I can.

Before we leave, I linger at my father’s and brother’s crosses. My fingers trace the rugged grains of the wood as Daeja sniffs from afar. I shove a branch into the ground next to the other two. Sadness wells in me because I can’t honor her memory with something more. I kiss my fingers before pressing them to the wood. I turn away quickly before I can cry again.

Leaving all I’ve ever known behind.