Dragon Slayers

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley. Dragons come and dragons go, people liked to say, and from time to time one would wander across the Mountains. It would pass above the peaks and hill ranges that surrounded the Valley’s nine kingdoms, fly above the lands stretching in green, above the dark woods and the sparkling waters of the rivers, and let its shadow linger like a tail on the ground. It would fly and soar through the blue skies, flapping its wings while the trees below swayed and rustled, the only sound in the world suddenly still, and then it would crash, shot down by the things it could not see.

Dragons fly and dragons fall, that was yet another thing people liked to say. And in the Valley, all dragons had to fall.

“It’s there!” a scream shook the woods one afternoon, the way it always did whenever something crossed the sky. “The dragon is there, Mila! It’s flying right above us!”

“It can't be a dragon, Lou, it's too small! It must be a bird!”

“There are some small like birds too, silly. It’s a dragon this time, I’m telling you!”

A boy and a girl pushed past the trees and ran uphill, their feet sliding, their hands grabbing on the branches, bushes, whatever was available. Lou was younger, only fifteen, with long weak arms and a stomach that often grumbled from hunger. Mila was two years older, taller, more agile, more everything. Mila’s stomach didn’t grumble that much.

They reached the top of the slope and stopped. On the hill before them, heads of people poked through the high grass.

“Hunters,” Mila whispered and pulled him down. “Get down, Lou.”

“Crap. You think they’re with Dragon Slayers?”

“No. They’re too clumsy with hiding. Must be just villagers.”

“We could try shooting them from the back. Attack them before they attack us.”

“For a bird that could be a dragon? Really?”

“Well, they’d shoot us for sure, if they could. Even for a bird that could be a dragon.”

“I know,” Mila murmured. Lou leaned in, listening to the wings swooshing in the distance until the sound faded and a whine of disappointment vibrated over the hill.

“It escaped,” he sighed. “The West Mountain Guard is going to get it now. They have new machines, did you know? No idea how this one even passed them by. I thought they’d just shoot anything that flies over the Mountains now.”

“I know,” Mila repeated and looked at her scratched hands. The silence returned only to get interrupted by Lou’s rumbling stomach.

“Don’t tell me you’d like to eat one,” Mila said with a smirk right when Lou muttered, “I swear I could eat the whole dragon now.”

That made them chuckle.

“Idiot.”

They went back to their village afterwards, the woods once again shaken by their screams, and argued who would be the first to kill a flying monster. In the Valley not everyone wanted to kill or eat a dragon; not everyone even wanted to drink their blood which gave people inhuman strength, great health, and strange abilities. “But if there is one thing everyone wants, is for all dragons to die,” Mila’s father had explained once, and shortly after proved it was true. Now Mila wanted it most of all people, even more than Lou.

“I’ll kill one first,” she told him. “You’ll see. I’ll kill them all, the whole million of them that lives outside the Valley.”

“Girl, you’re scary when you get worked up like this,” Lou murmured and pulled her by her red, shoulder-length hair. “I mean it, Mila. One day you’ll get gray from anger and no one will marry you.”

Mila smacked his hand away. She didn’t care about getting married; she cared about joining the Dragon Slayers. About going to their stations in the Mountains and firing their new machines, slaughtering the flying demons before they could sneak in and destroy the villages like they once destroyed hers. No other kid would watch their parents burn or search through the ashes of the damaged houses, and then dream of fire and pain for years to come. No other kid, Mila thought and grimaced at the burnt skin of her forearm.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve seen it, too,” Mila sighed once they reached the village and sat down on her blanket in the corner. Straight away, a line of people appeared, coming like flies to food and buzzing their requests and questions. “Alright, alright, not all at once. Let me see something nice first. Oh, no, not a broken arrow again, Kenny! I’m so tired of these.”

Lou was watching her as she set about her work, fixing whatever the villagers brought her way. The more her fingers danced, the more the crease between her eyebrows deepened. No matter how difficult it was, Mila would solve the problem. She was a fixer, a businesswoman. The coins always flew around her, and each time she caught them right before Lou’s skinny fingers could snatch them up.

“What will we do when you join the Dragon Slayers, Mila?” one of the women sighed. “You shouldn’t go. There are plenty of people to kill dragons.”

The piece of wood in Mila’s hands almost snapped in half, that hard she squeezed it. She didn’t speak out, letting the fury fill her up in silence, and focused on fixing another thing instead. People grunted and moved around her, trying to understand how she was doing it, simply putting things back together. She didn't know, either.

“Oh, not you again, Monster!” she heard Lou call some time later. “Do I need to throw rocks at you? She’s busy! And even then, you can’t afford it. Go away.”

The crowd whispered, exchanging looks, and made way for the approaching boy. Mila wrinkled her nose at the smell. If she looked a little higher, her nose would wrinkle even more.

“I just need my box fixed.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, Monster?” Lou threw a rock at him. “Go away! You stink! Besides, can’t your sister fix it?”

“Only she can fix it.”

At last, Mila looked up.

“Fine,” she said and took his wooden box. “What?” she added to Lou. “If I don’t, he’ll scare my customers off. Really, Deraya, you need to wash up more often. Here, it’s fixed. Now go.”

“He can’t wash up in the river,” Lou whispered once Deraya accepted his box and turned away. “They don’t let him in anymore. People are scared they’ll catch something.”

Mila frowned at Deraya’s shrinking figure. He was the skinniest and dirtiest boy in the village, the same age as her, with long black hair and a masked face. Sometimes kids would play a game to take his mask off. Whoever got it and didn’t scream at his disfigured face would be the winner.

“You know, you really should be smarter than this,” Mila had told Deraya a year ago after she found him searching for his mask that had fallen on the ground. “You could join the Dragon Slayers, they’d take you. Then you would never be hungry or dirty like this. You would be a hero!”

Deraya hadn’t replied, avoiding her gaze. It wasn’t until Mila had offered him his mask that he’d looked up at her. The ugliness of his face made his blue eyes look strangely pretty, almost too pretty, as if he had stolen them from someone. Still, fate couldn’t spare even his eyes, making him half-blind since birth.

“Thanks,” Deraya had said and limped away to the forest.

“That’s it? Just thanks?” Mila called and realized she was more bothered by his behaviour than his face. “You know, usually people are more grateful for my help. You and I could even strike a deal if you had something to offer. In fact, do you have anything to offer? Your sister is a great craft smith. She makes those boxes you always carry, right? Well, what can you do, then?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She followed him, annoyed. “You can’t just do nothing, Deraya! Even little kids do some work around here. You have to... oh.”

The view sent a chill up her spine and she thought she’d rather have Deraya do nothing at all. Nothing was way better than seeing him kneeling on the ground, opening his wooden box and putting a dead bird inside it.

“Hey!” Mila called. “Don’t tell me you want to eat it? It’s half-rotten. You'll get sick.”

The chuckle that came off his mouth didn’t fit him, just like his eyes.

“Of course not. I’m going to bury it.”

“Bury it? What for?”

“Someone has to.”

Her descending fear spiked up again. The Valley didn’t like birds, and now it had more of them dead than alive. People shot at whatever crossed the skies these days, and once the animals fell, they all searched for them only to get their arrows back, unless, of course, it was a dragon; no one would leave a dragon to rot since their wings, blood and skin could be used or sold.

“Oh my, you really are a freak,” Mila murmured. “And birds are similar to dragons. You shouldn’t help them. Dragons ate your family too, didn’t they? I was there. You couldn’t see it much, but I did. Everything orange, the entire village gone, and this monster...” Fear squeezed her throat like a hand. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Do nothing as you wish. I’m going to go behind the West Mountain and slay them all.”

“If you go behind the Mountains, you’ll die.”

“I won’t! Haven’t you heard about Itori the Hunter? He’s been with them just for a few months and he’s the Captain of the West Division already. Have you ever met him? He lived in our village before it burned.” She swayed on her tiptoes in excitement. “He’s the best of the best now. Slayed twenty dragons or so. Lou and I will be the same.”

“Then Lou will die as well.”

“Why are you like that?” Mila stomped her foot. “The dragons killed my parents, they killed your parents, they almost killed you! And you just don’t care?”

“They were here before us.” Deraya stood up, gracious and proud. She had never seen him like this. “We took the sky from them, and we can’t even reach there.”

Mila had no response to that.

“You could fix your face if you drank the dragon blood, you know!” she called after he turned away. “You could change your entire life! People would never call you a monster again!”

“Monster?” He stopped, scowling. “And who are they to call me this? Do you even know what’s going on in other kingdoms? I’ve heard stories. Half of the East Valley was burning a week ago. A trail of bodies everywhere, with no one to bury them either.”

“Dragons?” Mila gasped.

“No. Not dragons.”

Mila hadn’t spoken much with him since that meeting, except for when he came to her wooden cabin the next winter, covered in snow and on the brink of death. There was an arrow wound in his thigh, and she reckoned he had been shot either out of malice or of mercy. Whoever had done it, they came back for the arrow and left him there.

“Please, just bury me when it’s over,” he had asked her then. “Can you promise me this, Millie? Don’t leave me there.”

“W-what? Why me? And why are you calling me Millie?”

“It sounds pretty. Like a girl who doesn’t have to kill dragons.” His blue eyes gleamed, and he lifted his hand and brushed his fingers against her cheek. It froze them both. “Pretty,” he repeated and let his hand fall.

She didn’t have to bury him that day, nor any other that came afterwards. After all, Mila was the fixer. She could fix things, even dying boys. Within minutes, she’d organized wood, blankets, medicine, and help. Deraya had lived, and until today he kept asking her for help every now and then. Each time she agreed, hoping her cheeks didn’t reflect the heat that spread across her chest. Stupid, she thought. He’s a stinky boy with a masked face. He can’t do anything, and here I am blushing because... because what? Because he called me pretty?

“Stupid,” she murmured, knowing it wasn’t about that at all. It was about a—

A screech interrupted her thoughts, long and piercing, coming right from the sky. Everyone’s heads snapped upward. Even without looking at the shadow that soared above them and then disappeared behind the trees, Mila could tell what was happening. A dragon. A wounded one.

“That’s two on the same day!” People started screaming. “You think they came together?”

“It fell into the woods! Everyone, go to the woods! Get the dragon’s blood! Kill it before it can get up!”

Mila’s eyes locked on Lou.

“It bounced a little, did you see?” she whispered. “Towards West. They’ll go in the wrong direction.”

“So today is the day I’ll finally eat a dragon,” Lou grinned. “We’re going to get it first, right, Mila? It’s not a bird?”

“Not a bird,” she agreed, then stopped. Didn’t Deraya just go there with his box?

Crap, she thought and squeezed the knife in her pocket. She knew one day she would have to use it either on a dragon or on a human, and it seemed like that day had finally come.

The clearing in the West Forest was bathed in the weak sunlight when they got there. The shadows flickered over the grass, green and high, and spotted with blood where the dragon had fallen. Deraya stood before it, staring ahead, and for a moment Mila wondered if she had imagined it all. There was some calmness about him, some strange beauty in the way he regarded this dragon. Pretty, his voice echoed in her head. Millie.

“You,” Lou snarled. “Get away from it, Monster. It’s mine.”

“Yours?” Mila frowned, shaking off her thoughts.

“Mine.”

Deraya turned around. His eyes stopped on Mila for a little longer than on Lou.

“No,” he said. “He doesn’t belong to anybody. Just like the sky.”

The words worked like a spark. Lou and Deraya moved at the same time, as if reading each other’s minds, and so did Mila. Her hand snapped to Lou, trying to pull at his arm, stop him from throwing the knife at the dragon, her dragon, but she wasn’t fast enough. The blade spun in the air, flying right towards the monster's head.

Deraya twitched, and the knife hit him in the arm instead.

“Deraya!”

Mila’s hands rushed to her mouth, her dreamy scenery shattering once and for all. Now the forest was ugly, and there was nothing beautiful about Deraya who fell to his knees and forced his head up. No, not just his head. His hand moved as well, and he snatched the arrow from the dragon’s wing, making the blood spill from them both. One more breath, and he was yanking the knife from his arm next.

“Fly,” he said. “Fly, damn it.”

The dragon titled its head, as if fascinated. It jumped a little, and then leaned into Deraya’s hand, licking his blood off it.

“Mila,” Lou whispered. “Is he... feeding the dragon? He’s letting it... drink his own blood?”

Mila absorbed it in silence.

What?

“Why?” she whispered, approaching him like in a trance. Why was he healing a monster? Wasn’t the world better off without pain and terror they all brought, without their fire, their screeching, their shadows in the sky? Wouldn’t she be better off as Millie, the girl who didn’t have to kill dragons?

“Because they are just animals,” Deraya rasped. ” They don’t understand.”

“But people do! You hear me? People will kill you for that!”

“As they should!” Lou added.

“This dragon won’t even get to the West,” Mila continued. “Even if you cure it, they’ll shoot it down in the Mountains.”

“Maybe,” Deraya said. “But sometimes, one or two slip past.”

The trees rustled behind them, Mila’s biggest fear right now, the rustling trees. She turned and stopped face to face with the village guards.

“What’s happening here?” their leader demanded, pushing himself to the front. He was a huge and bald man, with dark eyes and a face that knew no smile. Nano from the Kingsguard, Mila remembered. He was coming for the monster's blood.

“We... we caught the dragon,” Lou stammered.

“Our men caught the dragon,” Nano corrected. “It’s ours.”

“But...”

“It’s ours. Make way.”

The guards formed a circle around them, pulling the bows at the dragon and waiting for the command. Mila squeezed Deraya’s hand who stirred next to her. You will not save it, she told him with her eyes. And this time, you will not survive it.

“The dragon.” Nano blinked after a moment. “Where is the arrow? Joan, didn’t you shoot it?”

“I did,” one of the guards replied.

“Then why... Ah. I see. You cured it, huh? Which one of you did it?”

“He did!” Lou’s finger snapped towards Deraya. “He was giving it his blood, feeding it! And I... I couldn’t do anything, I swear, I was just following the rules!”

“I see,” Nano said. “That is good. Everyone should follow the rules. And because of that,” he added, grabbing the guard’s forearm and directing his bow at Lou, “no one can know about curing dragons.”

The moan that came off Lou tuned out Mila’s gasp. That was all she could do when her friend was getting struck by an arrow, just gasp. It felt as if nothing had changed since her village burned. She was still nothing but a little girl. Sickening.

“Well?” Nano asked. “Which one of you did it?”

“She did,” Deraya replied before she could.

This hurt like an arrow to her own chest. She even touched it to make sure they hadn’t shot her. So dragons truly bring out the worst in all of us, she remembered somebody's words.

“Very well. Kill the boy then and take the arrow. The girl and the dragon will go to the King. He’ll pay us well.”

Deraya’s eyes gleamed, and she could tell he was smiling under his mask. He said it on purpose, she realized. Oh, you idiot. And since when you’re so clever?

“Come on, girl.” Nano reached for her arm and Deraya's wooden box broke as he stepped on it by accident. “Don’t make trouble or—”

The trees rustled again. Everyone turned, leaning forward, taking the position people took whenever dragons emerged out of nowhere. Mila waited for the outburst of fire, for red flames to devour the trees and people as they had when she was little, but nothing came. The trees continued to rustle and just like that, the guards collapsed as if a ghost had taken them down.

“Take the dragon and go to the Silver Lake,” a voice said and someone appeared before them. “You hear me? I’ll meet you there. Now run.”

They both stared, the young man in front of them definitely not a ghost. He wasn’t an ordinary young man, either, at least not to Mila. She knew this voice, this face, and those eyes she fancied. Itori the Hunter, she inhaled, the famous Dragon Slayer. The one she had been looking up to all this time, the Captain of the West Division, the youngest, most brutal Slayer that ever was. What was he doing here? Was he chasing this dragon as well?

Itori’s black eyes narrowed at her before she could ask that.

“Run.”

And so Deraya took the dragon and her hand and they ran, and ran, and ran, through the hills, and forests, and hills again, until the river cut their way and forced them to slow down. Mila couldn’t stop herself from turning around, certain that the guards were right behind them and that an arrow would come for him any moment now, just like it came for Lou. Lou, she cried and let Deraya pull her through the river.

“Are you alright?” Deraya asked after they got to the lake. “You’re very pale.”

“Am I alright?” Mila slapped his reaching hand. “Of course I’m not alright! They just killed Lou! And I... if you didn’t... what did you do that for? How did you know? They could shoot me, too! And you... you should be dead! Why are you not dead, Deraya?!”

He glanced at his dirty shirt.

“It healed me.”

“What healed you? You didn’t drink the dragon’s blood, you idiot! It couldn’t heal you!”

“I know. And yet, I'm cured.”

“What?” Mila frowned. The hole in his shirt, the blood, it was all still there except for the wound in his arm. “I... I don’t understand.” Confused, she stepped back. “Why did they kill Lou? And Itori, why would he help us? This just doesn’t make any sense. This—Watch out!”

Wings swished above them, the sound straight from her nightmares, and the dragon landed on the tree, stretching itself as if to mock her fears. It screeched once, loudly. She hated this screech.

“You,” she whispered, reaching for her knife. “It’s all because of you!”

“No, Millie, wait—”

Mila didn’t listen. It was that easy, after all, to kill a dragon of such size. Grab the knife, release it, and strike the monster. That was exactly what she had to do now. She had to strike it.

“I asked you to help the dragon, not to kill it,” a voice sighed and a hand snatched her by the wrist. “Didn't I?”

Mila turned to Captain Itori, once again amazed by how quietly he could appear. Deraya himself seemed less surprised.

“Captain,” she whispered. “You found us already?”

“I was right behind you. Now, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t hurt the dragon. I will need it.”

“Need it? And what for? You should be the first one who’d want to kill it!”

“Oh? And why would I want that, girl?”

“Because they kill us,” Mila responded, the words drilled into her mind like the most obvious thing. The sun rises in the East, the rain falls from the sky, and we kill dragons before they kill us. Obvious. “Because they eat us.”

“Dragons don’t eat meat. They eat lavarand plants that grow outside the Valley.”

“That’s not true. They attack us all the time. They eat us all the damn time! I’ve seen it!”

“Dragons know no malice. Only humans do.”

“Are you insane? Dragons exist only to kill!”

“No creature exists only to kill,” Itori murmured. “If animals kill, it’s only to survive. Think about it. Foxes kill sheep. Birds kill worms. Worms kill plants, and humans kill them all. Not because they have to, but because they want to, or just because they can. And you think dragons would be coming to the Valley to do what, burn villages for fun? Trust me. There's more to it.”

“Like what?”

“You tell me. Dragons can’t communicate, can they? But someone else can. Who do you think that is?”

A raspy breath inched up her throat. The answer had painted in her mind already, but she refused to accept it. Liar. Liar. He had to be a liar. It was impossible that...

No.

Liar.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” Itori turned to Deraya. “That day our village burned, you saw who was on the dragon. Tell her who that was.”

Deraya flinched.

“A rider.”

“A rider. Yeah. I saw it, too. That’s precisely why I joined the Dragon Slayers afterwards. To find out the truth. Why would a human ride a dragon? This just didn’t make any sense. Well, it all makes sense now. Dragons don’t attack because they want to; they attack because they are told to.”

“No.” Mila shook her head.

“The Kings of the Valley need them,” Itori spoke over her. “The blood helps them to strengthen themselves and fight their little wars. There weren’t always dragons at the Valley until the Riders told them to come.”

“Are you saying that the Kings of the Valley use dragons to attack each other?”

“Is it really that surprising?”

Mila swallowed and took another step back. She didn't know what to say. It felt as if a dragon had come and turned her life into ashes again.

“What is your point here now, though?” Deraya asked. “Why are you helping us?”

“Because I need you, of course,” Itori sneered and shouldered past him. “Because you’re a Rider. Aren’t you?”

Deraya and Mila exchanged a surprised look.

“You gave it your blood,” Itori continued. “Dragons hardly ever accept that, even though many offer it in secret. Therefore, Riders are rare. That’s why the guards wanted to take you to the King, and that’s why I helped you. This world needs fewer Kings with Riders, trust me, and heavens know it needs even fewer Riders.’

“Why?”

“Riders are powerful. You and the dragon will be linked now, and as long as one of you is alive, the other can’t die. With time, it will start understanding you and when it grows, it will do anything you want. Fly, kill, breathe fire... anything.”

The dragon squealed as if in confirmation.

“And?” Deraya pressed. “Shouldn’t you want it dead?”

“I protect the Valley from dragons. It doesn’t matter what I want. Unless,” Itori added innocently, “all dragons are gone.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning he found something,” Mila understood, the excitement rushing back at her, waking her up. There was only one reason a Dragon Slayer like him would help them. “Right? You need a Rider for something. What is that?”

“There’s a legend.” Itori praised her with a grim smile. “Saying that the world stretches to the East and the West and that dragons stretch with it. For them, this world is like a beehive. Do you know what each beehive has?”

“A queen,” Mila whispered. “Wait, are you telling me that dragons... have a king?”

“The legend speaks about the Dragon Lord. He allegedly connects all the other dragons and lives somewhere far away from the Valley. We think it’s in the West.”

“And you want a Rider to control him. And with him, other dragons.”

“Control it?” Deraya scoffed at her. “No, Millie. He doesn’t want to control it. You want to kill it, don’t you, Captain? All of them.”

Itori shrugged.

“That’s what we Dragon Slayers do. We slay dragons.”

“Well, is there no other way? Can’t we just co-exist? We could find the Dragon Lord and tell him to take all the dragons away! To never, ever come nearby the Valley. Wouldn’t that be better?”

“No human should control all the dragons.”

“So the only way is to... kill it?”

“That’s what we Dragon Slayers do,” Itori repeated. “Even though sometimes we don’t want to,” he added and peeked at the tree where the dragon sat. His eyes softened a little. “Well, what do you say?” he grunted, shaking his head. “Will you help me?”

Mila clenched her fists.

“Of course! We’ll go with you right now. Deraya, give him the dragon.”

Deraya glanced at her, then at him. He was thinking it over, however little there was to think about. They all waited.

“No,” he replied at length.

“No?” Mila frowned.

“I will not slay a dragon. Not even one, and certainly not all. You should know that.”

“Would you rather have people dying, then? Like some kind of a...”

“A monster?” Deraya grimaced. “Because I don’t want to kill something just because of its existence? Because after years of exploiting them, killing them and eating them, we now decided to wipe them out?” He scoffed. “Oh, trust me. It’s not me or dragons who are monsters.”

“What do you mean?” Mila whispered. She could tell something was wrong just by the way he was looking at her, talking to her. He had decided something she wouldn't like.

“He means he'd rather save dragons than people. Wouldn't you, boy?”

Deraya ignored Itori's comment.

“You'll have to fix this, Millie,” he said, piercing her with his blue eyes. “You hear me? Fix it. No one else will, and someone has to.”

He turned around after that, stiffly, as if forcing himself away. Mila only stared. Even when the dragon took into the air and followed him, all she could do was look with disbelief. He's leaving?, her thoughts spiralled. He's leaving me here... just like that? To help... monsters?

“That's always the problem with the Riders, you know,” Itori sighed, watching how they both disappeared behind the trees. “They just can't do what's right. Well, don’t you worry, girl. We’ll catch him. You coming?”

Mila opened her mouth and closed it, still feeling dizzy. Fix it, Deraya told her, and she immediately thought: fix it how? Fix what? The world? People? Dragons?

Memories rushed through her head, bringing back the fire, death and destruction, and she almost laughed out loud. Was he really that naive? She wouldn't help a dragon even if it meant sacrificing the entire world. Not even one of them, she repeated his words, and certainly not all of them. You should know that.

Millie, his voice echoed in her head again.

Pretty.

No. Mila shook her head and felt her eyes flaring up. I am no Millie. Millie, the girl who doesn’t have to kill dragons, doesn’t exist. And Deraya, the broken boy with a kind heart, doesn’t exist either. He's a traitor. A Monster. She imagined him moving through the world now, killing humans to save dragons while she would do the opposite, and she wondered who would get to the Dragon Lord first.

The answer came straight away, chasing away Deraya's voice.

I will. I will slay them all.

“Yeah,” she said, turning to Itori. “I'm coming.”

There weren’t always people outside the Valley, but from time to time some would wander across the Mountains.