fingers.
“He was already dead.” Ariel tried to sooth Lillian’s heartache. “His soul died the moment he was claimed by Armaros. We, only, destroyed the body.”
From behind, Lillian heard the other man stumbling from the tree line. She turned and watched as he stumbled, struggling to run for his life.
“We must stop him,” Ariel said.
“No.” Lillian sobbed, her heart fighting to accept what she had done, “There’s been enough death tonight. Let him go.”
From her left, Lillian heard the creaks and groans of the cabin door opening. She quickly turned away and labored to pull herself into the darkness of the shadows.
“They can’t see me like this,” she said, her fear filled Ariel’s mind. “They won’t understand.”
“They will,” Ariel assured her.
Ariel’s assurance didn’t matter. Lillian was convinced that her brother and her friends wouldn’t understand. They would fear her and either run or maybe even attack her. In their experience, there was no such thing as a good dragon — a guardian. Surely, they would panic at the very sight of her and Ariel.
“Lillian.” A voice shattered the sound of Lillian’s sobbing. “Is that you?”
Lillian couldn’t bring herself to turn around and look, but it mattered little. She knew the voice well. It was her brother Derik. Only twelve years old, Lillian would do anything for him. She would endure any hardship—suffer any anguish. She loved him with all her heart and soul, but she couldn’t face him like this.
“Derik, don’t.” Lillian whimpered as she, desperately, tried to clean the blood from hands, using snow. “Don’t come any closer.”
Ariel’s head turned to face Derik and he let out a low rumbling snarl.
“Don’t scare him,” Lillian said aloud, her words meant for Ariel. “He’s my baby brother.”
“I’m not a baby anymore. None of us are.” Derik ignored Ariel’s warning and rushed to his sister’s side, kneeling next to her. “What has happened to you?”
“Get away from that thing,” Jackson screamed as he held Jessica behind him, thinking he needed to protect her from Lillian and Ariel.
“She’s not a thing.” Derik turned, yelling at Jackson while still trying to comfort Lillian. “She’s my sister.”
“That monster is not Lilly.” Jackson took several steps away, pushing Jessica back as well. “That’s not your sister, Derik.”
Lillian struggled to her feet and turned to face Jackson. “It is me, Jackson,” she said, tears ran down her, soft, pearl shaded, checks; and blood poured from her arm and trickled along the chain to the ground. “It’s me… I promise you, it’s me.” Lillian’s eyes glistened brilliantly in the light of the fire—almost glowing. The beautiful mixture of colors caught everyone by surprise as they stood in astonishment. Jessica gasped, her hands rose, covering her mouth in dismay.
“Your eyes,” Jessica said, almost whispering the words to herself. Lillian stepped forward; the sound of the chain dragging caught her attention and without looking, she reached down and pulled the spiked metal ball from her arm, and then dropped it to the ground.
“It’s not what you think,” she said. “We’re not evil.” For the first time, Lillian thought of her and Ariel as one being—two creatures, one mind.
“Lillian, there is no time for such nonsense,” Ariel pleaded with her. “Armaros would have felt the loss of a claimed soul. He may already be on his way.” Ariel snarled at the thought.
“What about them? We can’t leave them here?” Lillian said aloud.
“With your injury, we can carry only one.”
“Then we make as many trips as it takes,” Lillian silently answered.
“You’re not taking us anywhere,” Jackson yelled. “Jessica, run,” he said as he turned and ran, pulling Jessica along with him.
Lillian understood that time was short, and she reached out for her brother and pulled him close to her body. “Hold on.” Lillian glanced down at her brother with a smile. “This might be a little scary.” Ariel’s wings unfolded and rustled twice. Then with one forceful downward motion, they leaped up, over one hundred feet in the air.
“Yes, I’ve heard of them,” Lillian answered Ariel’s unspoken words. “We call them the Great Lakes.”
“That much water will, certainly, hide us from Armaros,” Ariel said. “We’ll be safest there.” Ariel banked and headed north.
“Armaros, my Lord.” The man knelt before him. “A hunter has returned. He is requesting an audience.”
Armaros stepped down from his throne. At one time, it was a statue of Abraham Lincoln, but the searing heat of Armaros’s fire scorched away any remnant of the once great President, and it was reshaped into an alter where he was to be worshiped, and where his subjects came seeking favors while he held court.
“And just how many souls did this hunter bring us?”
“None, my Lord.” The man’s voice trembled as he lowered his head in fear.
“None!” Armaros screamed furiously. “Bring him to me.” The man glanced to his right, and waved, motioning for two guards to escort the hunter before Armaros. The hunter was tired and looked broken as he limped into view. “You,” Armaros said, as he pointed at the hunter. “Why are you here? Why have you returned empty handed?”
“She’s here, Lord Armaros,” the man announced as he lowered himself to one knee. “The Guardian has been chosen.”
Armaros turned and walked back to his throne. “And how is it that you have come across such information?” He asked. His tone filled with rage and his fierce eyes with anger as he focused on the man.
“My brother and I saw her,” he answered. “We met her in battle, five days walk from here, in the mountains.”
“In battle,” Armaros stood once again, “and yet, somehow you survived your encounter with this Guardian,” he said, as he laughed, doubting the hunters story.
“Yes, my Lord. She let me live.” The hunter looked up at Armaros.
“I suppose she did.” Armaros leaped to the hunter’s side, and then grabbed him by his throat. “Unfortunately, for you,” he said, as he lifted the man off the ground. “I’m less forgiving.” Armaros slowly tightened his grip around the hunter’s neck, and then violently jerked the man’s neck to the left, breaking his spine. “Feed, my friend,” he said. And from the shadows came an earth-shattering roar, followed by the sound of razor sharp claws being raked across solid marble as the dragon crept forward. Little by little, the dragon emerged from the shadows. He was larger than Ariel. His wings had no feathers; they were just thick leathery skin and bone. His scales were solid black with scorching red edges, and a row of sharp, dagger-like spines ran from his head to the end of his tail. He was a fierce, battle-hardened creature who lived to unleash death and destruction.
“Keagan,” Armaros called to the commander his guard, as he turned and walked back to his throne.
“Yes, Lord Armaros.” Keagan stepped forward and bowed before Armaros. “Command thy servant,” he said.
“Bring me a child,” said Armaros, as he slammed his fist against his throne.
“Yes, my Lord.” Keagan stood and set forth to carry out his orders.
Armaros, impatiently, sat on his throne of destruction while he waited for Keagan to return. I will end her, he thought, his jaw clenched at the thought of meeting the Guardian in battle.
“Lord Armaros,” Keagan said as he returned. “Here is the child you requested.” Keagan pushed the young boy to the ground. “Kneel before your Lord,” he commanded the terrified child, who couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old. The small boy was weak and frail with spindly arms that trembled as he looked up at Armaros.
“Please,” the boy begged, “don’t hurt me.”
Armaros leaned forward, “look at me boy,” he said, as he sneered. “Do you not wish to please me, to serve me?” Armaros rose up from his throne and stepped closer to trembling child.
“Yes,” he cried.
r /> Armaros stretched out his arms and slowly closed his eyes. “Then accept your fate, my child.” Dragon, he called out in his mind, commanding the creature to bond with him. Without hesitation, the dragon vaulted into the air and onto his master’s back. The creature’s arms wrapped around Armaros’s shoulders, crisscrossing over his chest and his long, jagged claws ripped through his flesh, sinking deep into his ribcage, completing the arc with his human master. Armaros unleashed a raspy sigh and looked down at the boy.
Although he was too young to comprehend most of the world’s perils, the boy, instinctively, understood his fate. “No,” he screamed in terror as jumped to his feet and ran. Armaros smirked, then launched himself into the air, landing directly in the young boy’s path.
“Come now, boy,” Armaros said. “Do you really think you can outrun me?” Armaros reached down and seized the boy by his throat, and lifted him into the air. “Your sacrifice is crucial,” Armaros grinned at the thought of taking the boy’s life. With a single powerful thrust, he drove his hand into the boy’s chest and wrapped his fingers around his pure heart. “This will get her attention,” he said as he tore out the, still beating, organ and dropped the child’s lifeless corpse to the ground, a tempered thud filled the silence.
“Oh, God,” Lillian screamed out in pain as she clutched her chest and fell to the ground. Her back arched as an agonizing sigh wafted from her lungs and the pain spread to every part of her body. “Make it stop,” she cried out,