The Dracones

I wake in and out of a broken mind. The first thing I was aware of was Trayvon lifting me off the bed. He just shushed me and closed my eyes. Once my mind registered darkness I fell asleep again. The other time was waking in midflight. Trayvon holds me against his chest, my face facing over my shoulder while the blanket wrapped over my head protects me from the wind. Alienis soothes me and tells me I am fine. It is then that he explains what is happening to me and promises to keep me safe. I fall asleep as he hums a lullaby in his head.

I wake to the smell of smoke. I pull myself up automatically, trying to find the source for the burning wood. Trayvon looks up and smiles as I relax. “Where are we?” I ask. I try to lift myself, but my arms are weak and shake beneath my weight. He comes over and helps me sit up. He rests me against a log. I cock my head as I see blood on his shirt. “And where did that come from?”

He looks down and chuckles. “You.” He walks back to the fire. “Your blood does not seem to like being in its body.” He walks over to me with some water. Carefully he tips my head back. It isn’t until the water hit my lips, that I realized I was so thirsty. I cough as it comes pouring too fast. He eases up. My eyes are watering as my lips retain some moisture.

I look at him. His clothes are ripped and his hair is a mess. His face holds morning fur while dark crescents decorate his eyes. How long has it been since he slept? How long have I slept? I’m so stiff. I shake my head and blink hard, trying to straighten myself out. “Where are we?”

He sets the waterskin down and walks to the far corner of the camp, behind me so I cannot see him. “Glendale. Well, ten miles from it.”

I try to think through my dazed haze. “That’s thirty miles out from Niphi City.” I blink and remember something about the dragon’s blood poisoning. “Why are we this far north?” I can’t remember for the life of me, though I know I am the reason.

“There is a man in Niphi City who can cure you of this sickness.” Trayvon answers.

I smile. “Garenth,” I recall his smiling face and white eyes. He’s been blind for years now. “Did I ever tell you that Niphi is my home?”

Trayvon comes back into the camp and hunches by the fire. He puts his hand up to it. I shift uncomfortably. I’m sweating but my body is shaking. I can’t believe it wants more warmth. “You told me.” He hesitates. “What can you tell me about Garenth?”

I think about it a little too long. I want to sleep. “He’s about forty years by now. He’s a kind and gentle man. Always had a way with plants and creatures of the like. There isn’t a living spirit that dislikes this man. There is no such thing as the word enemy in his vocabulary. He’ll treat you as an equal, even if you are not of the same species.” I look at Trayvon, making him look at me. “He’s also a good listener, Trayvon. Whatever is weighing on your conscience he’ll be glad to help. His lips are sealed tighter than a priest’s.”

Trayvon chuckles. “And what makes you believe you are any authority on who to trust?”

At first, this hurts me, but I calm myself. “Because of my friends Trayvon. I’m alive because of them.”

“Do you trust me?” He demands, looking into the depths of the fire. For some reason, this question has angered him.

My mind is warning me that this is a loaded question, but I can’t remember why. “In some areas I do.” He flashes me a look before looking away. “I trust you in battle and to be there when I have need of you Trayvon. But I do not trust you as a person. I know nothing of you, and you keep it that way on purpose. You distance yourself from me, and even your fellow clansmen. The only one you talk to is Gracial and yourself. You hold something. Something dark. I can accept this. However, since you do not trust me, I cannot trust you.”

Trayvon snorts. “As if you’re an open book, Kit.”

I lock eyes with him. “Ask me anything.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What do you know about your parents?”

I tried to focus on that. “Not much. I was three when they died. I only really remember smoke and the smell of hay. My adoptive parents told me they died in a raider attack. They found me under a bed of hay wrapped in a blanket and holding my doll.” I lock eyes with him again. “What about you Trayvon? What do you know of your parents?”

He fell silent. “Just go to sleep Kit. You’re tired.”

It is then that I remember his conversation with Freiah. “I am, more than you can imagine, however I can’t.”

Trayvon stands. “Then I’m leaving. Anything is better than your constant chattering.”

“No,” I order, making my voice strong. “There is something I must tell you.”

His eyes lock onto mine. “What is it then? So this can be done.”

I open my mouth and then cry in pain, my eyes widening. He starts running toward me, but I fall to the ground, dirt covering my cheek as it provides cushioning. I can’t breathe but I hear metal. Smoke and blood keep my mind grounded while I try to make myself breathe. It’s coming out wet and labored. My ears start to ring, and the only sound breaking it is dragons roaring.

I feel something hard push my shoulder, turning me onto my back. A stranger stares at me, his eyes widen, and surprise is on his face. He’s young, sixteen maybe. He wears an ocher cloak, the cloak, and the pin of the Adversantem. A dagger is held in his hands, he’s going to kill me. I cannot stop him, there is nothing left in me, not even a protest. The kid vanishes from view, a thick arm around his throat claiming him.

Seconds later Trayvon’s face appears in front of me. “Kit?” He asks as he touches my face. “Kit are you alright?” His arm brushes something, making me cry in pain. “Kit.”

I’m seeing black. I see nothing but feel everything inside my body. “Don’t.” I gasp. I can feel it. I can feel it coming. “Don’t leave me,” I beg, for I do not want to go. I want to stay.

I wake up in a dark room. Candlelight is what keeps the ceiling visible. There is a smell of herbs and oils. All kinds of oils, and some salts. I cry out, for pain is what has wakened me. Immediately a strong, callused hand pins down my shoulders as I try to fight. I search for something, anything to make sense of this. I cry again as a yank on my shoulder claims my attention.

“Hold her down.” A graveled voice orders. My eyes find the voice. A man with brown hair looks forward, milked eyes seeing nothing. I follow his hand and see wood sticking out of my chest. An arrow. I cough, feeling liquid on my cracked lips. “Young man, answer me.”

I look and there is no one behind me, not that I can see at least. I look at the man again. He’s frowning. “Young man?”

I cough, blood coming again. “There’s” I winced on jagged air. “There’s no one there Garenth.”

His brow furrows. “Do I know you?”

I cough a laugh, coughing even harder. “I should hope.” I breathe harder. “I’m Kit.”

His brow furrows. “But you were taken.”

“Well, I’ve been given back.” I joke. I wince as his hand grabs the arrow. “Even they couldn’t handle me.”

Garenth chuckles, then becomes serious. “Kit, I need to remove this arrow.”

I grimace. “Is the iron heated?” My breathing sounds like I’m inhaling water.

He grins. “Yes.” He then hesitates. “Your friend didn’t say what ails you before he left so suddenly. What is wrong?”

That coward. “Dragon’s blood poisoning.”

He fell silent. “I won’t even ask.”

I chuckle, well actually gargled on blood. “Good. Now yank.” Garenth pushes the arrow through my shoulder, making blood pour out of my mouth as I scream. I bite my lips as he lifts me. He breaks off the head of the arrow before laying me down again.

Garenth covers my mouth for me as he yanks the rest of the arrow out. He reaches toward the fire, pulling out a hot iron from it. He closes my eyes as I force myself to my happy place. It’s not enough. Searing white hot pain enters my mind, beating against my already weakened mind and body. I gasp in relief when it calms and blacks out, escaping the second half of treatment.

I wake slowly. The last thing I remember is the smells mostly. Oils and salts and herbs. I remember Garenth. I grimace, my entire body is covered in sweat. Every muscle is trembling. I feel as if a sponge has been placed inside my mouth for hours. I know for a fact that I can’t even raise a finger to defend myself at this point, placing me weaker than a newborn baby deer. But the most important out of all this, is my fever has finally broken.

I open my eyes to see a wooden ceiling. The smell of flowers assaults my nose. I roll my head to my right, sensing eyes on me. I smile when I see roses on the nightstand by my bed. Sitting in the chair next to it is my little hero. At four feet tall Garenth stares blankly at the wall, hands twisted in a knot around each other. “You look like horse shit.” I rasp.

He smiles. “Thank Dawn you finally woke, Kit. I thought I had been talking to a corpse.”

I bark a laugh and immediately regret it. I cough hard, bringing fresh blood, and wheeze to a calm. “I should smack you for that,” I say as he chuckles. I frown. “Where is Trayvon?”

Garenth’s brow furrows. “Trayvon? Do you mean Ivan?”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

Now I’m confused. “No, I mean Trayvon. He’s the man that brought me to you.”

“I beg your pardon Katarina, but the man said he is Ivan. He’s sitting in the kitchen. Shall I get him for you?”

“What does he lo-sound like?” I question, staring at Garenth while he thinks this through.

He tries to recall. “Lost and dark. As if something haunts him. His tone is strict but hushed. Smokey. He also sounds tired and worried. Mostly guilty.”

I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief. “Show him in. That is my friend.”

“There is something wrong about him Katarina. If you believe you can help him, I advise against it.” He stands. “But I shall do as you request.”

I hesitate but speak when he reaches for the door. “Can you-Can you keep my location hidden Garenth?”

There is confusion in his voice. “Don’t you want to be found, Katarina? Don’t you want them to know where you are?”

More than anything. “At the moment, I’d rather stay hidden.”

Garenth nods. “That I can do for you.” He leaves me near silence. The only sound I hear is my ragged breathing.

A knock on the door has me give a relieved smile. I honestly thought the coward would run. Trayvon smiles as he sticks his head inside. His eyes go hard once they land on me. His shoulders are up, his black shirt hiding the bottom of his chin as he does this. He’s on his guard. “Are you awake Kit?”

I give him a half smile. “It’s something new I’m trying out.”

Trayvon chuckles as he comes to stand next to me. He smiles as his dark eyes remain vacant. His hand brushes my face. “You feel normal.” He flashes a smile at me. “But you still don’t look normal.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, haha.”

He grins at me. “At least you’re no longer in the death fan club.” He sticks his hand back in his pocket. “Hey Kit, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Tell him? I try to remember but it’s hard to remember after the attack. “I-I don’t remember.”

Trayvon lets out a huge sigh. “I guess I’ll have to wait.”

I smile at him. “I’ll let you know when I remember, I promise.”

His eyes become determined. “I can help try and jog your memory if you want. We were talking about trusting each other.”

I am somewhat able to recall this. “I do remember needing to tell you something, but for the life of me Trayvon I can’t remember much. Maybe it’s the drugs in my system, or maybe it wasn’t that important.” That didn’t sound right. “No, it was important.” That I’m sure of.

He chuckles as he looks at the ground. “Listen Kit, Alienis, and Gracial headed back to Morningswood a few days ago.”

This confuses me. “Why?”

He looks away. “They’re meeting me there.”

So soon? “When are we leaving?”

He looks at the floor. “We’re not Katarina. I am. I just wanted to say goodbye.” He runs out the door before I can say anything or react. I’m shocked. Why did he just leave me? I try to lift myself up.

“Trayvon!” I yell after him, suddenly recalling what I had to tell him. I try to go after him, but I fall onto the floor. I cry out as my battered body delivers anguishing revenge. I suck it up and get my swollen hands under me. When my top half is lifted, I hear the door creek open. Trayvon sticks his head in as I lift my head.

I lock eyes with him. “You’re wrong Trayvon. You won’t break me.”

Surprise breaks through his face like broken glass. His eyes are wide as they take me in. He drops his eyes. “You’re wrong Kit.” He leaves, the front door slamming seconds later.

Garenth comes rushing in. “What in Dawn happened here?”

“Nothing.” I rasp, my entire body draining of energy. “Help me up, will ya?”

“What are you doing on the ground?” He demands as he sticks his arm out, trying to find me.

“I fell off the bed.” I gasp as my shoulder makes its complaint clear. My left arm gave out on me, making me catch my full weight on my right. “Ten steps forward, two to your right,” I tell him.

He slowly counts and bends to help me when my body brushes his legs. “Let’s get you to bed.” Garenth helps me up onto the bed. My body falls in defeat the moment I’m sitting on the bed.

Garenth hands me a bowl. I wince when I smell tree bark and rosemary. “What is this?”

“It’ll help you sleep.” He helps me lift my head and puts it to my lips. Gladly, I drink it all; allowing myself some mercy by succumbing to a small piece of oblivion.