A Return to Oblivion

We didn't expect to ever find them again, and we didn't know what to expect next once we had. Whatever that would have been, it wasn't this.

Echo had spent more than four months in the cave he found at the base of the mountain on the day he decided to step out into the world again. Just as he had hoped, it proved to be the perfect place to hide considering no dragon cared for the goings-on of the lush forest below when they could so easily soar to the glorious Peaks above to take in the full spectacle of their land.

It was true that there was something magical about the lush landscape that the Skyfarers had made theirs to keep safe. After all, it was magic that gave them the strength to keep their ancestral home atop the mountains safe from the plague that culled humanity from existence. It was magic that allowed them to beat their wings down upon the world so hard it drove the drifting sickness back toward those who had weaponized it against them.

'It was magic that made the lies easy to believe.'

The words billowed ceaselessly at the forefront of Echo's mind until they were a deafening cacophony of shame and resentment. His wings drooped with the weight of every untruth by which he had lived his life. Somehow his heart was even heavier with the knowledge that neither he nor any other Skyfarer had questioned what they were taught. It wasn't until the realization that he couldn't be the only one who knew set in that Echo snapped out of his guilt-addled daze.

"Guf-huf-gwaaarrghaaaaaaah!"

The child's cry tore through the cave faster than Echo could raise his wings to cover the entrance. His blood raced with the fear that someone else may have heard, yet every other instinct drove him to comfort the tiny human before him rather than wait to find out. As gently as he could manage, Echo pushed a pile of moss and sticks together at one of the cave walls before dragging a knuckle across the stone for the sparks to set it alight. Echo had learned that humans don't see well in the dark. He was proud of himself for figuring that out so quickly.

"Hush, little one," Echo whispered. "See? We are together now."

As Echo brought his face down to meet the babe's own, her shrill cries turned to soft, inquisitive coos. His was the only face she had seen since he found her at the edge of one of the forest's few clearings, yet her stares were still filled with an unmistakable sense of wonder.

"Yes," Echo said, extending one of his claws toward the child. "We are together now."

Echo could barely feel the tiny hands as they stroked across his claw. It had taken him nearly an entire day to blunt it to his liking. He still wasn't quite certain how sharp was too sharp for a human, but he was quite confident the answer was virtually any edge at all on account of their apparently soft, fleshy exterior. It was strange to Echo that he had never considered what humans were made of after countless tales of the terrors they let loose. Seeing her so enamored with him and everything else made Echo wonder if there ever were any horrors her kind had unleashed. Surely there was some crime they had committed. Something to justify him hiding away from his own kind alongside what had to be the last of theirs.

Looking into her beaming brown eyes, Echo could see every facet of his own facade. The jagged edges of his umber skin at the corners of his face jutted out before giving way to glassy scars, then cold, gray scales which blunted the light as if they were the very Peaks he had been raised on. He could see the same shame in their shadows, but shortening his gaze to take in the whole of her eyes, Echo could only see a life in desperate need of protection.

He ruminated on the position her presence in the cave left him in. Leaving her there in the cave for the mere minutes it took to scrounge smaller game and edible flora was never any grave concern, while the trip to the Peaks and back would see him gone far too long for comfort. Felling trees or rolling boulders to block any unsupervised expeditions on her part didn't seem viable, either, as the risk of drawing unwanted attention was simply too great. Even still, Echo couldn't avoid returning any longer. Suspicions would be aroused eventually if he stayed in the forest, and going back was the only way he would ever uncover any glimpse of the truth. She would have to make the trip with him, at least partway, until he found somewhere for her that was safe, out of sight, and far from any others of his kind.

From the Peaks, we look out over the world as we have made it. And see... We are together now.

The air thinned at a rapid pace as Echo ascended toward the Peaks. He looked to the sunset, silently begging it to linger as long as possible. Echo was determined to see Xander before nightfall. He couldn't be sure that even the eldest of the Skyfarers would have the answers he was looking for, but Xander's reaction would say everything. As he rose through the clouds the sights of ancient effigies carved into the rock face glinted in and out of his peripheral vision telling the stories every Skyfarer grew up on. Tales of the days when the dragons were splintered into various factions, drawing lines between themselves by region or race or flame, all while humanity came together as one.

"The Skyfarer Wars would have torn the world asunder millennia ago if not for the meek, feeble humans who took it upon themselves to intervene. While the dragons controlled the flames which bellowed forth from their hearts and stomachs from birth, the humans had decoded the unwritten scriptures and unspoken language of magic. Their warriors rode fearlessly across the land, and when they reached the place beneath the dragons' aerial battlefields, their shamans invoked long-forgotten forces with little more than whispers. In an instant, the clouds disappeared, and with them the sky, leaving only an inescapable darkness in its place."

"The Skyfarers fell as their wings flailed in the void, unable to find the air upon which they soared. Some dragons died as they plunged toward the ground, never getting the chance to learn that there was no natural end to their plummet. Others nearly went made with that discovery, believing they had lost their minds completely as their senses were incapable of understanding their mystic prison. But the youngest of them all could feel through the emptiness the hum of something else. Something like lightning without a flash or thunder without a rumble, and once she let herself feel it, the humans knew to let her back into the world."

"Casimir, the first Skyfarer to speak to humanity, the last of Clan Black, and the one who brokered our world's salvation. She traded the gift of the dragons' flames to the humans, and in turn, they gifted the dragons all their mystical secrets. She directed her brethren to scorch the humans' fields with replenishing flames, to carve out the rivers which let their crops grow further inland than ever before, and to fill the oases in between so their people could spread out across the land. She taught them to concoct and to conjure and to coexist in ways that were previously unimaginable. She brought us all together in harmony, and after she died, the humans saw that their time to strike was growing ever nearer."

"The humans had cultivated in secret a weapon, one born of a mystical parasite or corrosive gas, and they set it creeping through the valleys and forests until it reached the mountains. The plants and the animals who were caught in the sickly fog rotted where they stood, as did the other men and women and children who couldn't see the danger coming for them. In their cruelty, the humans slaughtered their own kind, all in the hopes of finding the Skyfarers unaware. But for Casimir's memory, we remained steadfast in our vigilance, and for that, we saw the horrors well before they could encroach on the mountain. From the Peaks, we saw the necrosis that threatened to drift its way into our lungs, and with our wings, we blew it back across humanity's terrain. Their young and their old and their cattle withered and died, and once the decaying masses stopped writhing, their bodies and monuments were razed to less than ash."

"Now we protect the land and the sea and the sky with both fire and magic, and we hold nothing more true than the worth of our own survival. From the Peaks, we look out over the world as we have made it. And see... We are together now."

Echo could hear Xander's soft, gravelly voice telling that story in his mind as well as if he were saying it directly to him. While Echo had heard it dozens if not hundreds of times, that was nothing compared to the thousands of times Xander had recited it. As the eldest of the Skyfarers, Xander was widely considered the wisest, and as the wisest, Xander was the one to impart nearly all knowledge to others. This was why Echo had to see him, and as his claws came down on the rocky pass which led to Xander's keep, he realized this was also why he was so afraid of doing so.

The shards of slate and gravel beneath his claws cracked and crunched louder than Echo remembered them ever being before. He wondered if Xander could hear his heart pounding between each step as clearly as he could.

"It's late for a visitor! But not for one so important," Xander's voice rolled through the pass. Echo had to force himself not to hesitate at the sound of it.

"Come! Before you get lost," Xander shouted.

As Echo stepped into Xander's keep, a dark anticipation coursed through his entire body. Even in this most familiar of places, Echo couldn't keep his scales from standing ever so slightly, and on seeing Xander hunched over stone tablets, he couldn't keep them from anxiously flaring.

Light from the sconces high up the walls of Xander's keep rolled off his deep emerald scales as the elder dragon turned and stood to face Echo. His leathery wings stretched out and shook with what seemed like relief at seeing his former ward in the flesh after so much time. The way they fell after Xander took in the sight of him was something else.

"Echo..." Xander muttered in a hushed tone. "How was your journey?"

"Much needed, Xander," Echo replied. "The plains are like lakes of gold this time of year."

Xander nodded gently, closing his eyes for a moment with a smile. "The wheat truly is beautiful. I remember rolling in it when my wings didn't creak." Xander looked warmly at Echo, pausing only slightly before turning back to his slabs. "Somewhere in this pile is a recipe for bread that I really should find."

"Bread?" Echo asked.

"Ah-haha!" Xander chortled out. "Human food!" His long, hooked claws scraped over the tops of tablets before arriving at the one he sought. "You know it was humans who brought wheat to our plains."

"The humans rea-lly must have been magic if they gave us wheat!" Echo shouted back. He had hoped a joke would ease his tension. Instead, his voice cracked under it.

"Yes, Echo. They really were," Xander paused again, longer this time. "But you know that."

"I know everything you taught me, Xander."

There was another pause. When he spoke again, Xander's voice was like heavy stones sliding down a scabrous rockface. "Yes, you do." Xander turned to face Echo again, "But you know that."

"I'm sorry?" Echo tried to sound genuine in his response. Maybe someone else would have believed that he was.

"How many were there, Echo?" Xander asked pointedly.

"How m-"

"The humans, Echo. How many were there hiding in the plains?"

"I don't und-"

"I can SMELL them on you, Echo," Xander said. "Humans have a very particular stench. But you know that. So... How many were there?"

Echo could hardly process the conversation. Xander knew. He knew there were humans, and he knew what they smelled like.

"Xander, I wanted to-" Echo cut himself off this time. He gathered his thoughts as best he could under Xander's biting stare. "I wanted to ask you about them before I told you. I found one, out past the plains. I think."

"You think?" Xander's wings curled at the ends as the question burrowed its way into Echo's mind. "What do you know, Echo?"

"I know I've never seen one before. Not out in the world. Not in the flesh," Echo stammered. "But I think... I know I saw one. Out past the plains to the East."

Xander pushed himself upright, pulling his wings back in behind his shoulders. "And did you slay it?" His eyes narrowed as the question left his lips.

"No, Xander. I watched for some time before losing them," Echo's mind raced as he spoke. "I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to get close enough to-"

"To catch the plague, Echo?" Xander asked, his gaze burning right through Echo's own. His wings relaxed before his haunches did. "That's good, Echo. You did the right thing, you know?"

"I did?" Echo asked aloud.

'This isn't right,' Echo thought to himself.

"Yes, Echo. After all, you have no flame of your own. It would have been suicide to tear the human limb from limb with your teeth and your claws. You would have been exposed."

"Then what, Xander?"

The elder dragon hesitated before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Then we would have had to burn you, too, Echo. Thankfully, you can lead me to it, and I will deal with the wretched thing for us all."

"Yes, Xander. But-" Echo cut himself off again. He knew he was going too far.

"But what, Echo?" the question oozed off Xander's tongue.

"How do you know what the humans smell like?"

This time it was Xander's scales that stood ever so slightly. "Echo... I was there."

Echo felt his heart leap into his throat. "You... How?" he croaked out.

"I was there, Echo," Xander said. "I was there when they let their plague out into the world. I watched Casimir die with my own eyes as their creation rotted the flesh from her bones. And I was there to see it rot theirs. Just. The. Same." Xander's eyes narrowed again as he slowly dropped his head down to meet Echo's own. "It was glorious, and now you get to lead me to whatever remains of their disgusting ilk, and you will get to watch them brought to an end all over again."

"Xander," Echo whispered.

"Yes, Echo," Xander whispered back.

"There is no plague."

Xander's gaze grew wider than Echo had ever seen. Something between fear and rage boiled behind them, and while Echo didn't know exactly what it was, he could see it was not for the humans alone.

"Echo," Xander's voice dropped again.

The back of one of Xander's emerald claws slammed upwards into the bottom of Echo's jaw, sending the younger dragon reeling to the floor. Before he could find his bearings, Xander was on top of him, peering down with a snarling smile that stopped both their breath.

"You spent time with them," Xander said accusingly, his wings coming down to help box Echo in beneath him. "What do you know?"

"There is no plague, Xander," Echo almost shouted. He tried to keep his voice down, but the words poured out of him faster than he could think them. "I don't know how, but I know it isn't around anymore. The thing is just a chil-aaaaAAAAARGH," Echo couldn't stop the scream from leaving his lungs as Xander drove a claw slowly between his ribs.

"A child, Echo? No, it is a monster, and it must be harvested as such," Xander said, driving his claw in deeper. "Now WHERE?" Xander's scream shook the keep as it reverberated off the walls.

"Why, Xand-EEEAAAAR!" Echo could feel Xander's claw turning behind his ribs, etching the bone with its crooked hook.

Xander paused once more before removing his claw from Echo's side. As he stood, he placed a heavy foot on Echo's chest, resting his heel just where he had torn through the younger dragon's flesh.

"Why?" He asked with a chortle as he stared down into Echo's pained eyes. "Oh, Echo. Poor, sweet, deluded Echo," Xander took in the sight of Echo for a few moments before continuing, trying to consider whether the truth was deserved by one so close to death's door. "For the magic."

"What?! Wha- What do you mean? The humans gave us-"

"The HUMANS gave us NOTHING!" Xander roared out directly into Echo's face. His scream rang through Echo's ears just as loudly as it did the rest of the keep, shaking bits of dust and gravel from its ceiling. "Their magic ended our wars, but those made us strong. Stronger than the magic alone. And taking them away made us weak."

Again Echo found himself barely comprehending what was being said. He didn't know if it was for the shock of hearing it all or for the weight slowly crushing his ribs into his lungs.

"It was the killing, Echo," Xander said, pushing his face nearly into Echo's. "Bloodshed. Sacrifice. It makes us stronger. Their magic too. And when I realized... Well, sacrifices had to be made for the humans, too. But then Casimir had to go and give them her flame. Something about making up for dead babies, so she, well-" Xander stopped himself to press his heel harder against Echo's chest. "And now you. I'm so sorry, Echo, but tell me... Where is the human?"

Echo's lungs were ready to collapse. His ribs moaned under the pressure. His heart, his soul, everything was breaking or broken already, and as his vision blurred, Echo let out what he thought would be his final scream.

And with it came a flame. A roaring, bright green flame filled Xander's keep in an instant with blinding light and a sulfurous smell. Echo rolled, pushed, and raced out the entrance. Blood trickled down his side, his chest felt like it would burst with gore. He could hear Xander's cries behind him, but he couldn't make out the words. All he could hear was the wind rush past his ears as he flew, faster and faster, then faster still.

To her.