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Black Dragon .
Legna snorts, his breaths coming out from his snout in great puffs of hot air. He turns away from the voice in his head, having learned long ago that it’s simply not worth responding to. He’s not in the mood to be insulted tonight.
You are close.
Under his wing, Nowe shifts, rolling onto his back and stuffing his face into the soft leather of Legna’s side. He cannot hear the voice; Legna had asked once before, but the boy had shook his head and laughed at him. If only he knew how many words Legna had protected him from over the years. Usually, they’re nothing more than cruel jabs, but there’s something different in the air tonight. Something aside from the smell of smoke and ashes crawling skyward in the valley below, billowing up from great burned holes in the ground where towns and cities had once stood.
So much destruction, yet you continue to ignore me?
Caim must be close then, if he is partaking in this same wretched view. The lack of privacy in his own head is disturbing, but Legna allows himself to lean into the conversation, half a brain finally focusing on the man’s words for the first time in nearly eighteen years. His voice comes out as a slow, thick rumble- one that could be mistaken for a snore if one of the children was to awaken in fright.
“What could you have to say to me that you haven’t said before?”
He doesn’t have the mind to inflect humor on the situation tonight. The smell of destruction is thick in his nose and mouth, and the inferno of the dying landscape is warm enough to keep his cold blood pumping despite the hour and the lack of sun. He’ll feel this exhaustion in the morning, but perhaps the currents of heat will be strong tomorrow. He’ll be cast along on the trail of the goddess’ destruction.
It’s a terrible view, isn’t it. It almost reminds me of-
Legna shoves the man in his mind’s eye, bowling over his consciousness with a single swipe.
“Don’t speak so brazenly of the inevitable. You, of all people, know it can get worse.”
True.
Caim had always been a man of few words, even before the pact that took his voice. Most young sons would have screamed words of vengeance at their parents' killer, but when Gaap had been hanging from Legna’s teeth all those years ago, the boy had been silent, mouth held open in a soundless scream. He’s grown out of it little by little, ironically using the connection between pacts far more than he’d ever used his tongue, but now the mellowness comes again- that tepid, understated reaction Legna had been given upon first impressions.
The dragon hums to himself, watching another thatched roof be consumed by day-old flame.
“Why do you seek to free her, if this landscape disturbs you so?”
You wish to see inside my head?
“I have no doubt it’s a disturbing place. I’d rather hear you speak your reason.”
Caim pauses. Legna takes the moment of silence to pick out the direction the voice comes from, following the line across the valley to the mountains beyond. There would be caves there suitable for human travelers; though he cannot see a campfire, he knows that from atop the peaks, a dark eye watches.
Angelus…
“The dragon?”
That’s her name.
“I see…” All beasts have names, even if they’d rather not tell them to others. Dragons are a proud race- most are not so eager to introduce themselves as Legna had been. Angelus had shared her truth with another- a human, no less. How strange.
She trusted me, and I, her.
Love is an uncomfortable emotion to recognize. It’s much the same as the wilted flower that Nowe had grown in his own chest- strange and contorted and wrong , despite its holiness. The bond between man and beast should never be so strong. Tools should not rely on other tools, lest the house they build collapse completely.
“I see,” is all he manages, snorting hot, derisive air into the graying sky.
Caim’s watchful eye pierces him, despite the distance.
You disapprove?
“Since when have you cared about receiving approval from me?”
I don't. In fact, it comforts me that this is but another degree of separation between us.
“Don’t get too high up on that horse, boy. You are as much a monster as I am.”
They sit in silence for a moment more. The direction of the wind changes, and with it, the warmth of the burning trees is swept west, away from them both. The tiredness that seeps into Legna’s bones is immediate and chilling, and he grunts as he draws Nowe in just a touch closer, using the boy as a heat pack for his aching wounds.
“Is that all you need of me- an ear to hear your confessions? I’m no priest. You’re better off barking up your old tree.”
A little context never hurt anyone.
“Context for what?”
Tomorrow, Angelus will come back.
“Undoubtedly. You seek to join her on her rampage, I assume? Your madness knows no bounds. Surely, I am not the cause of all of it.”
I will follow her, but she does not recognize me.
“How sad,” Legna drawls. “Forgive me for not caring.”
Anger flares at the corners of the adjacent mind, but it cools and fades before he can mock it.
I have a request for you, actually.
“Hmmm. Sorry- the boy and I aren’t interested in commission work.”
You’ll like this one.
“We’re awfully busy. We have a dragon to hunt tomorrow.”
Silence once more.
Then there’s nothing more I need to say, I think. We are in agreement.
Legna blinks, staring at the mountain side with squinted eyes. “Your request is-”
Kill Angelus.
“You know the consequences of that are-”
I know, yes.
The dragon scoffs. “I can’t believe you, of all persistent people, would be so accepting of death.”
There is no helping her now. I want her to be at peace.
“There will be no peace for you in the afterlife you’ll be headed to.”
I know.
Again, silence sweeps over the land. Somewhere below, a castle crumbles, its foundations weakening past the point of no return.
“I’m sure the boy will object,” Legna finally starts, “but I know an out-of-control pair when I see it. You’ll get your wish, Caim. After all, you are my final piece of unfinished business. The weight of your body between my teeth will be a pleasant one, even if it’s just Angelus standing in.”
Thank you.
“How polite. It’s kind of me to accept this task after all those years of insults, you know. You could at least grovel a bit more.”
Asking is a bit of a formality. I have a feeling Angelus’s end draws near regardless of your desires.
“Taking control of your own fate, then? I can respect that. The boy takes after you more than his own parents.”
Caim is silent at that, contemplating. Legna’s tail taps against the ground idly, waiting for sleep to catch up to him.
“It really was nothing personal,” he adds. “You are worth no more to me than any other man- your parents, too.”
I can’t say I feel the same way .
“You want me to apologize?”
Apologies can’t fix a ruined life.
“Most children don’t respond to the death of a parent like you did. Perhaps that wrathful gaze is better turned inward. You chose violence- I was merely ordered to perform it.”
Caim shuts him out then, but not before slinging one last half-hearted insult his way. Legna laughs to himself as he lowers his heavy jaw to the ground, coveting the feeling of heavy eyelids and a clouded head.
The taste of blood and fire in his mouth will be a sweet one. Destiny looks lovely in red.