Lalla Of The North

TW: blood, death, bullying

There weren’t always dragons in the valley, the native fennec and boar had inhabited it long before even the old folk did. But now the fennec and boar have extra heads and mouths filled to the brim with black teeth. A tell-tale sign that you are in the presence of a skin-walking dragon, and not what it pretends to be.

A three-headed fox feasts on the horizon. It lingers in the mist of early morning, the faint smell of sun infused flora tinges the air. I hold steady to the reins of my horse, she’s quiet, nervous. Commander has his hand raised in the stillness, his silver beard gleams in the sun, each strand a medallion of experience.

I loosen a hand on the reins, skimming the black and red of my robes to settle it on the pistol strapped to the belt at my waist. The fennec fox moans in the distance, still unaware of our presence, its three heads twitch and collide with one another as it feeds on something.

The Commander shows no sign of realisation, not as the Watch companions do, Naeem and Lira at my side almost sag at the sight. I swallow around the lump in my throat, fingers tightening on the pistol. A pungent wave of festering flesh sears through the morning.

“Stay still” Commander orders us in a hushed voice, he holds his stallion's rein and rides it in cautious steps towards the beast.

The Fennec stops in its feeding, its middle head turns in a freakishly slow fashion, black eyes blinking in a hypnotic lull. Its mouth is wide, stretching over its entire rotting face. Its neighbouring heads follow each face as ugly as the other. With heavy steps, its feet plunder in its gutsy meal, slowly pulling its weight towards us.

I sit up straighter, pulling out my pistol now, hands clammy but trained, I keep it close to my abdomen. We begin to round up behind Commander.

I pat at Rawda’s sun hot hair, she neighs with an anxious shuffle of her hooves, she wants to turn back, but I hold her still, mouth a firm line.

"Do not make any abrupt movement," Commander tells us, I wonder how long he has been on watch for, he shows no sign of hesitation nor fear "keep your eyes on its necks, the pulse is its weak spot."

"Hands steady," he says again, "keep your aim."

The beast crawls closer, jaw snapping and eyes hungry. It's too close for comfort now, I pull Rawda’s reins and she steps back, the movement catches the fox's gaze and suddenly it rips through the trees.

The companions hold their pistols up, and when they begin to shoot, gunpowder smoke fogs the forest. The fennec lets out a blood-curdling scream and lunges out at them. It rips trees to the ground, heads hissing and thrusting through the century-old trunks.

When the path is clear to me, it drags its injured legs through, Rawda neighs and kicks up in fear. I hold my pistol out, and my hands shake. I can almost smell the beasts' breath- the gun will not steady, my body moves on its own, and I pull the trigger-

The commander shoots three times, with perfect precision and the fennec fox falls dead.

I miss my chance.

"What was that?" Commander asks, he spins to look at me, eyes aglare.

"I'm sorry Sir, I froze," I say, hands still trembling now that I've lowered my pistol. "I kept thinking that I would miss, and about what would happen if I did miss-"

"And that is why you always do," he cuts me off.

He lifts his leg to slip off his horse, belting his black pistols and moving over to inspect the fox. I copy him, clinging to Rawda's reins to steady my wobbling legs, I inhale until my lungs hurt and follow him towards the beast.

The three-headed fennec is monstrous, a dozen times bigger than its natural ancestor, Commander has his hands at one of the head's mouths, inspecting its canines.

"Is it a Skinwalker?" I ask.

"Of course, it is" Commander's voice is gruff, he's had quite enough of me for one day "look at it! This is no fox."

"Commander!" Naeem calls by the feeding ground "I think it's him."

We trek up the small hills of gathered dirt to where the companions stand over a body.

From the sight of it, calling it a body now would be factually incorrect. There are clouds of flies swarming the leftovers of human remains.I lift two fingers to my nostrils; the pungent smell of rotting flesh makes my eyes burn.

Commander looks at me, his eyes warning. I remove my fingers. He has taught me that on watch, it is the small gestures that will make you look weak. Shying away from the smell of the dead is certainly on that list.

"We can't be sure," Commander says, he kneels by the body, gloved fingers searching through the remains for answers.

Farouk Tali, the town's madman, had gone missing a few days back. It was only this recent year that Farouk had begun to claim that he had seen a beast of flesh-covered iron. His delusions had gotten so bad that eventually, even his wife and children deserted him for fears of what his speech would inflict on them.

"Who else would it be?" Lira asks, hand on her hip, eyes shifting around the forest "no one else has been reported missing, Sir."

He doesn't answer and continues dipping his blood-soaked fingers into the scene, the squelching sound makes my stomach turn, but I hold on, I hold on because I am not weak.

“There’s not much to go off” Commander sighs, letting his arm hang over his crouched knee, “the beast left us nothing to work with.”

“We could search the area,” I say, “perhaps he left something behind.”

The companions don’t look very happy with this idea and I wince in regret when Commander nods slowly and lifts himself to his feet.

“Stay together and do not go far, meet me back here in half an hour” he walks off into the woods on his own.

The soft glow of morning has begun to dim, and clouds shroud the sun and cast shadows over us. I look over at the others, they stare back.

“Let’s go” I say.

“Lets go” Naeem mocks in what he thinks is a good impression of my voice, “go on your own, we’ve wasted enough time on that lunatic.”

“He is of mountain kin, lunatic or not,” I say, “we do not desert kin.”

“Get off your high horse,” he sputters out a laugh, “mountain kin?”

“Yes, the testimony” I speak slowly as if he’s stupid- because he is.

“What exactly is a century Old Testament going to do for a dead man?” Lira crosses her arms, giving me an annoyed look over.

“Assuming he’s dead” I correct her, “he will be buried and remembered.”

“His own family deserted him” Naeem scoffs, “and we’re expected to care.”

“Are you a deserter Naeem?” I ask, his face turning stony “because it may not be a crime for his family to desert him, but it certainly is a crime for a member of the Watch to do so .”

“We aren’t members of the Watch yet” Lira smirks, “we’re in training.”

The tips of my ears burn, and she gives me a smug wiggle of her fingers. I can tell she’s elated she’s got one over me.

I turn to venture out on my own, but a click sounds and when I face them again, Naeem has his pistol out and aimed at me.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“To look around,” I say, “it was my idea.”

“I have a better idea” he hums, beckoning me with his finger.

“Lower your gun,” I tell him “Commander will be back any minute.”

“He definitely won’t,” Lira says “he’s going to spend ages looking around, he always does.”

I look between them, waiting for them to burst into laughter and tell me it’s a joke- a bad joke- but one nonetheless. It doesn’t happen.

I lift my hands in surrender, a stupid idea because that does make them laugh. When I’m close enough to Naeem, he takes my hand and guides me back down the slope over towards the beast's body.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he says, pressing the head of the pistol to the side of my torso “you care about the lunatic, right?”

“Well,” I think carefully “I wouldn’t say care-“

“It’s the rules, right?” Lira says.

“Yes,” I shrug, “it is.”

“Then search the beast's body,” Naeem says, “there’s got to be a clue in there, right Sabrena?”

“You’re insane!” I laugh in disbelief but they don’t laugh “you’re not serious?’

“Times ticking,” Lira says, “you don’t want Commander finding you elbow deep in Skinwalker corpse, do you?”

“The beasts,” I say, “we aren’t allowed to touch the bodies.”

“That’s what makes it all the more fun” Naeem smiles, gives a particularly hard shove in my side and backs off.

“I won’t do it”

“What’s that?” He asks, aiming at my head “you’d rather die?”

“You won’t shoot me” I scoff.

“He really will,” Lira says “it won’t be hard to explain, oh Commander! We tried to stop her! But she wouldn’t listen, she wouldn’t stop staring at the dead body- at the beast, and before we knew it, she had a bullet in her head- just as mad as mummy.”

I grate my teeth together so hard it’s beginning to ache but I don’t answer. Instead, I move over, fall to my knees and bring out my dagger to cut through the fox's stomach.

Its skin is thick and makes a terrible hissing noise as I cut through, the flesh is dry inside and no blood pours out.

“I like her,” Lira tells Naeem, “she’s gutsy, unlike the others.”

Elbow deep in the beast's torso, I push around until the transparent skin of its stomach pops open and its last meal slides out. I heave at the smell, eyes watering from the sting.

“She’s disgusting” Naeem corrects her, gagging loudly behind me.

“He’s definitely in there” Lira says “Farouk.”

“Of course, he is,” Naeem says. “didn't you hear how he marched into the woods with an axe, promising that he would show everyone the Iron?”

“What’s his deal with Iron?” Lira says, “let’s say he wasn’t a lunatic and there was a beast of Iron? What’s the deal?”

I roll my eyes, digging through the body, there are mouldy peels of potato skins, rotting meats and hay baskets of old vegetables. It’s body is filled as if the beast had ransacked someone’s kitchen. I pause, touching the basket, what’s this doing in here?

“Are you thick?” Naeem asks her, “how can you not see the implication of that!”

“What?”

“Lalla Filza's suitor, Eleo of house Badr?”

Lira shrugs again.

“Eleo of house Badr, son of the iron hills” Naeem is indignant now “who produces iron? Who makes our weapons?”

“House Badr makes our weapons,” she says slowly, “so Farouk would be implying that…”

“That house Badr has a little agenda going on” Naeem almost whispers, “we cannot produce iron, so there would be no way of us creating a beast of iron to terrorise our town- only the iron hills would have the capability.”

“He’s insane” Lira has her mouth hanging open.

There is no end to the garbage pouring out of the beast, there is no blood, no guts. It’s only when the last of the filth leaves its body that I see it.

Iron.

I rub my eyes, and look again, the iron inside gleams. I’ve lost my mind. I reach inside and tug off a sharp piece, hands shaking as I examine it. It’s gone quiet behind me.

I stand and turn to them, holding the piece in my arms. Naeem blinks at me, pointing at the iron.

“What the hell is that?”

“The fox,” I say, “it was inside the… the fox.”

Before they can reply, the rustle of leaves signals that Commander has returned. They rush over to him, I can hear their voices but I can’t make out what they’re saying, my hearing is muted, and all I can think about are the implications.

Farouk had indeed seen a beast of Iron, who had made it? For what reason? How could it function? What was its purpose-

I’m brought out of my muted thoughts at the sound of a gunshot. Naeem and Lira are on the ground, clean-cut holes in their foreheads. A single trickle of blood leaks down their faces.

Commander doesn’t talk, he simply pops open his pistol to fill it with more bullets. I drop the iron piece; my hand goes to my belt and I have my pistol out. This time, I do not think, I cannot think. I shoot.

It misses him, he’s enraged but quiet, and he struggles to fill his pistol.

I cough on the gunpowder and shoot again. It hits his shoulder, I don’t stop, I won't stop until he is at his knees choking.

I take cautious steps toward him; the grass is soaked in blood. He doesn’t look at me, he just waits.

“You knew?” I ask, voice shaky “you knew Farouk was telling the truth?”

He doesn’t answer.

“You killed them,” I say louder “why did you kill them?”

Silence.

“Answer me,” I say “you killed them, you tried to kill me.”

He finally huffs out a small gagging laugh, teeth red “if you say anything about the fox, you’re going to wish I had.”