Burning Dragons

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. But when they finally came we registered a new kind of terror, and it was paralyzing. We only left our handmade homes at night, and only when our resources were almost gone. We hardly spoke to each other, and if we did it was in a tense whisper. We glanced around feverishly while out of our homes, as if there had never been a time when we walked the earth freely. We were so scared that we were barely living. Our hope was fading, and madness was setting in slowly for some.

It would have been unbearable, but I had Mira. We depended on each other; we were connected in every way. I have never loved anyone more than I loved her. I used to think I couldn’t survive this post-apocalyptic world without her. Now I’m forced to. The night she died is stuck on a loop in my head; I can picture it so vividly.

Mira and I were picking berries in the middle of the night. I loved watching her pick berries; she always did it so quickly and effortlessly – her fingers plucking the bushes like chords. She caught me staring and threw a berry at me before teasingly calling me ‘dreamy’ for not being able to focus on the task at hand. Our fingers found each others every so often, and I admired the matching black paint on our nails. I turned to face her, and snatched her hands up to hold in mine. I just wanted to look at her.

She froze suddenly, and her eyes locked behind me.

I knew.

I felt the fear slice my spine: it was a dragon. It felt like being in the ocean, and slowly looking down, knowing that you were going to see the open mouth of a giant shark underneath of you. I didn’t want to look down. And that was fine because I couldn’t move. I felt the air behind me start to warm; it would have been pleasant if it wasn’t a sure sign of death. I just watched Mira. I wanted her to be the last thing I saw. I felt something wrap around my ankle and yank. My head hit the ground and my vision faded. The last thing I saw was Mira staring down at me as the fire began to touch her terrified face.

My father’s friend had saved me just in time, and I tried my hardest each day to forgive him for it. He was one of the men people whispered had started losing his mind. This would make two dragons now that he’d seen and survived; I couldn’t blame him. I once asked him what he saw because my back had been turned to the beast. He didn’t want to tell me, but eventually he looked into my eyes and gripped my forearm,

“The first time I saw a dragon I saw someone I knew. The second time, I saw someone you know now.”

And that’s all he would say. His words made me feel sick and empty, even if I had no idea what he meant. Now I follow him around most of the time, waiting to eavesdrop on his heated mutterings to himself about the High Council “committing the ultimate act of sin.” I had a gut feeling that this man was not going mad, but was living with a traumatizing secret that was unexplainable somehow. I’d been following Max around for a week now, but I wasn’t getting the answers I needed. I needed to know what killed Mira; I needed to see one for myself. What was it about this dark creature that at just the sight of it, you could lose your mind?

That night I snuck out of the shelter I shared with my father and his friend. I know my father was fast asleep, but there was never any way to be sure about Max, he slept with his eyes open. I took the chance.

There was a grove that was said to be a nest for dragons. My plan was to go there, but I heard something to my right, out in the woods, and I saw torches. Torches? Who would risk being seen? I have never seen a single torch at night.

My legs were transporting me quickly and quietly to the spot before I even contemplated going. The woods weren’t that far from our rickety little village. I looked around as I was running. No one was outside – they rarely ever were, and we made our homes without windows to try and block out some of the fear. I now had crippling grief to push out the feeling, and god was it effective.

I hid behind tree after tree as I made my way towards the torches. I reached the edge of a clearing and stopped. My heart dropped. I didn’t understand what I was looking at. My body began shaking uncontrollably and I dropped to my knees. My already empty stomach turned, and I silently puked up bile. A stick cut into my hand, and I thought it had to be the only thing keeping me from passing out.

Mira’s dead body, somehow preserved, was nailed, sitting upright, to a chair in the middle of the clearing. What looked like priests surrounded her and the body of a dragon, which took up most of the clearing. It was hard for me to see past Mira, but a small flickering caught my eye momentarily. I glanced over, still on my hands and knees, salvia dripping from my open mouth, and made eye contact with the dragon. I immediately puked again. Max’s words played at a deafeningly loud volume in my mind,

The first time I saw a dragon I saw someone I knew. The second time, I saw someone you know now.

Those were Mira’s eyes. That dragon had Mira’s eyes. She stared at me with the same expression she had the night she died. Her sorrow was so unbelievably deep, I thought it might crush me down onto my stomach. I couldn’t bear the weight of this, and the more I looked the worse it got. The priests wore the symbol of the High Council. We weren’t dealing with a dragon infestation; we were being controlled while the High Council does who knows what. We should have learned not to create another leading body of people after our last government collapsed in such a bloody fashion. But here we are again…how hopelessly human.

Mira…the way she was looking at me…the dragon didn’t just have her eyes. It was her. And heavily sedated. I moved towards her – without thinking – and it was only moments later that I was grabbed by guards who had materialized from out of the woods behind the priests. I was crying, I registered blearily. I just wanted to get to her. I heard the priests whispering about maintaining control in the situation; one argued I was just a young girl.

“Make her do it. The dragon would not submit. Make her kill it, and she can live.”

He stepped out from behind a smattering of guards. His tone was blunt and blasé, and it gave me chills. He was dressed like the person calling the shots, in a tailored, old-world suit. His confidence was unmatched by anyone I’d ever met. He knew I knew what position I was in. You see something in life you aren’t supposed to see…you die. But he was offering me his version of redemption, a way to escape death.

He handed me a large torch, and his guard shuffled uncomfortably. But this man, you could see it in his casually arrogant posture, was sure I would bow to his will to spare myself. I was surrounded by an armed guard, there was no other way out. He could probably crush my neck with his bare hand if he was fast enough. He felt safe. The way I used to feel safe in Mira’s arms on cold days while we listened to the roaring of dragons outside… looking back now it sounded more like keening.

I took the torch and stared at Mira’s dead body, and then at the dragon with her beautiful brown eyes.

“Burn her. That’s the only way to kill the beast.” The man in charge was smiling as he said this.

I clenched my jaw and rubbed my thumb along the side of the torch. The wood had been sanded down. I maintained eye contact with Mira, it was the least I could do while she died, and the least I could do now,

“Don’t look while I kill the beast.” I whispered to her, before turning and lighting the man on fire.