Memories In Blood

Prologue:

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” Xavier Tarsan said with a sly grin - his almond-shaped eyes narrowing with mischief as a playful breeze tinkled through the air like a chime.

Fiametta tossed her coppery blonde curls over one shoulder with a slight scoff. “There aren’t any dragons in our valley now, Father. That’s just in stories.” Their garden’s cultured trees and manicured flower beds had been left behind more than a quarter of an hour ago, and Fia’s pique had been steadily rising - along with the volume of mud on her hem - ever since.

“Are there not?” Her father shrugged negligently as he continued up the hill before them.

Fia’s irritation over having to follow him out into the farthest reaches of their estate dissipated like smoke at his words. He’s up to something, she thought to herself. A rush of adrenaline raced through her veins at the idea. Father always has the very best schemes.

Sometimes they were strategic - meant to maneuver amongst the Argent elite. Other times they were for entertainment - intended to make Fia’s mother smile. But, no matter the motive, the Baron’s machinations were always always delightfully clever. Yes, father’s schemes are superior in every way. “Where there is a flame - there is smoke, is there not?” she teased - shielding her eyes and looking about in an exaggerated fashion.

“And where there is a child’s smile - there is a father’s joy,” her father recited back. Pausing on the path, Xavier looked down at her, tweaking her chin, before adding on “Usually.”

Fia grinned.

“Now, where was I? Oh yes –” he cleared his throat and adopted a dramatic tone before continuing. “Once, long ago, four spirit-gods called the Elementals ruled the land. The ground constantly quaked, the wind possessed claws, and fire exploded from the mountains even as swaths of earth were drowned and lost beneath the heaving of the sea. It was beautiful and terrible chaos - uninhabitable for all but the gods themselves. As time passed, however, the Elementals become bored and unsatisfied with the monotony of their existence. And so, they decided to dabble with creating life - each of the four forming a creature from their own power to pit against the other’s creations for entertainment and proof of their superiority.”

“Master Luce says that’s why we have the elemental games at the Shadow and Light Festival,” Fia interrupted as she ducked under a low-hanging branch her father was holding up for her.

“Have you heard this story already in your studies?” Xavier frowned in disappointment.

“I hardly think a lecture on Argent rituals and traditions counts as hearing a story, Father,” Fia grimaced. “There certainly wasn’t any mention of dragons.”

“Master Luce always did leave out the fun parts in favor of a good lecture,” her father muttered under his breath from beside her. “Anyway. The Elementals each created a creature to embody their power. The spirit of the earth, Terros, created the Duhr Bashe, a serpent with sharp scales and fangs of rock, that possessed the ability to hurl itself in the shape of giant boulders at an opponent before reforming to slice them apart. The spirit of the water, Vapora, created the Beisht Kione, a sinuous sea eel with the head of a horse and two rows of wicked teeth. It was a creature so large that even its slightest movement caused the moon to shiver and the waves to rise up above the tallest mountain.”

“This is just the legend of Rex Orəkculí and the Elemental Dragons, Father,” Fia broke in, cutting off the tale once again. “Everyone over the age of six knows that story, and I– am fifteen and three-quarters.” She held up her fingers, one bent awkwardly to indicate the mere months until her sixteenth birthday.

“Ah– but what happens after Orəkculí conquers the dragons, my heart?” Xavier questioned.

“Possessed of Fate’s great blessing, Orəkculí Crimson-Hair, also known as the Prophet-God Orynn, brought peace to the valley. The dragons were no more and the Elementals returned to the heavens, leaving him with four magical gifts, one vial of each of their blood. Orynn used the gifts to create the Argent, us, and then everyone lived harmoniously ever after.” Fia paused on the path to give a flourishing, little curtsey as she completed her summation.

“What did he do with the dragons though? How were they just –” her father snapped his fingers “– no more?”

Fia shrugged. “The story just says the dragons were no more.” She could see the openness of the valley ahead through the trees now but her father’s true intention with all of this talk of myths and dragons remained shrouded in shadows. Was it a trick? A test of her ability for seeing through an enemy’s strategy to mislead her?

Xavier smiled at her. “Let us go and see then,” he said, striding out into the sunshine.

Fia blinked and squinted as she followed him out into the light. The majesty of her surroundings barely registered as her gaze cleared enough to focus on the smart white uniform of the woman who stood amongst the tall grass. Her blonde locks were pulled back tightly at the nape of her neck - the glint of the sun off of it pale in comparison to the blinding gleam of the golden buttons and emblem on her shoulder. But even the regal appearance of the Guardian could not hold her gaze once they landed on the creature beyond the woman’s stiff-backed form.

“Papa?” Fia whispered.

“Look –” Xavier gestured to the open valley. “- the dragons aren’t gone after all.”

Clever Papa. Forcibly jerking her attention away from the iridescent scales and deadly spiked tail of the animal ahead, she cocked her head his way. “That is not a dragon,” she scoffed, raising a scornful brow at him. “It is obviously a kirin, Lord Tarsan.”

Xavier burst out laughing. “Oh you’ll do fine when you come out next season in Orskye, won’t you, my little dragon-rider?”

Fia batted her lashes at him. “Of course I will, my lord.”

Her father only laughed harder. “Come along and enjoy your surprise, my heart,” he chuckled fondly. By the time they reached the center of the valley, Xavier had assumed his natural expression of slumbering intellect once more, but Fia still saw his lips twitch every few seconds or so.

“Lord Tarsan,” the uniformed Guardian snapped out, executing a bow almost as crisp as her words. “As promised, I am here to train.”

Her father inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you, Densî Rosilyn. Your presence honors us.”

Fia wrinkled her nose. She never had understood why Guardian’s preferred form of address was tooth - even the mono-magical ones. The term always reminded her of a dog.

“Are you prepared to begin your training, young miss?” the woman asked, turning to Fia.

“Yes, ma’am.” Fia rolled her weight to her toes in an effort not to bounce up and down with excitement. Her eyes darted back to the winged beast, its single antler covered in flickering white flames as it hovered less than a parchment’s width above the grass. Fingers tingling, a light breeze began to stir around her, as Fia watched half a dozen dark-haired Norics moved about the outside of the paddock where the kirin stood. They had already built out a rather large training area that included an eastern-facing shelter near the center.

“I seriously doubt that,” Rosilyn scoffed, drawing Fia’s attention back to her.

“The path to knowledge is paved with lessons only learned in transit,” Fia quoted calmly, even as she inwardly seethed. How dare this stranger challenge her readiness. Fia had been studying for more than a year to pass the entrance exam and she was the youngest Argent in six generations to be approved by the Scribes for Amalis Studies. Most children her age had only one magic to attempt mastering. Fiametta Tarsan had mastered two before the age of fifteen. She may have broken some rules to get here but that was irrelevant in the face of her pride at this moment. Only one other person knew her secret and he’d go down with her if the truth was revealed.

“A wise proverb. However – Kamï will not care about your fine words when you are on her back. She is gentle now because she has not been freed. That will change. After you bond with her and begin battle training, the storm in her blood will be unleashed. Kamï will be as she is meant to be.” Rosilyn looked toward the magical beast, an expression of pride on her face as she gazed at it. “A kirin’s usefulness is only as strong as its rider’s fierceness, however, and you have the look of one who faints at the scent of charred flesh.” She turned back to Fia, face granite once more.

“Kamï and I will be the most magnificent of storms, and we will wear the scent of lightning, blood, and ashen flesh like the finest of perfumes,” Fia sneered defiantly.

“Confidence is an admirable trait until it becomes arrogance,” the Guardian advised sternly. “Your success, Lady Fiametta, will lie in knowing the difference.”

“It sounds as if a visit to the perfumer is in order.” Xavier smiled pleasantly at them both.

Rosilyn’s face cracked into a grin.

“Are we done with the formalities now, Ros?” Fia heard him whisper conspiratorily.

“Hardly,” the again stone-faced woman replied just as softly, nodding her head back towards the trees.

Fia turned, along with her father, her heart beginning to race as she watched the formidable Contessa Laetus and her son, Oliver, crossing towards them.

Xavier offered a slight bow in their direction before turning back to Rosilyn. Lifting his voice a bit higher he said, “I was just explaining to Fiametta about the fate of the elemental dragons.”

The Guardian’s mouth quirked slightly before smoothing back into a straight line. “An important lesson in harmony, my lord,” she complimented, matching his volume. “The blending of Pyroc’s fiery Mantelmo and Halosi’s flying Mireu into the fiercely noble Kirin is something we Amalis carry in our blood with honor.”

Fia saw Lady Laetus stiffen with outrage as she approached. She’d clearly heard the not so subtly insult. The woman’s dark glowing beauty and her husband’s elevated rank made Lady Zarina Astor Godwinn, Contessa of Leatus a foe in need of regular social slaying. The unsuccessful union of her Halosian mother and Pyroc’ee father was a useful piece of old gossip often used to engage in such combat against the Contessa’s higher status and even higher nose.

“Baron Tarsan. Densî,” the Contessa offered in greeting. The special note of condescending sneer in her voice confirmed her offense at their earlier words.

“My lady,” both her father and the Guardian replied.

Zarina sniffed. “Oliver insisted we come along to see Fia’s new little pet. And, what mother could say no to such a boy,” she purred. Her whole face changed to one of contrived adoration as she looked at her son.

Fia saw Oliver grimace. He despised his mother.

Oliver Godwinn was only a year older than Fia but already he carried an air of seriousness about him that made him appear far more mature than sixteen. His warm brown skin and sharp green eyes made him as handsome as he was intelligent, and his ability to wield air with savant-level ease combined with his exceptional pedigree made him a more than desirable acquaintance.

But –

He was also often cruel or dismissive of others’ feelings, prone to mind games and wicked insulting remarks which made his peers ever mindful of exposing weaknesses or letting him close enough for true friendship. Oh, they took care to not insult him - appearing desirous of his company and pleased with his presence at their events, however, no one was actually his friend.

Except for maybe Fia.

Unlike the others, she wasn’t afraid of his abrasive personality. She found it challenging in a world of societal rules she’d already mastered. Perhaps it was that Fia’s status as a dual-magic wielder made her uniquely qualified to disregard his rank without consequence - his title and her birthright made them equals of a sort after all. Or, perhaps it was because she sympathized with the need to combat the natural disparity of power and influence that existed between them and the other noble children with a good offense. She might deploy it differently, using girlish charm rather than condescension and surliness, but the strategy was the same.

However, regardless of the reason, Fia and Oliver were friends. Of a sort, anyway.

“What a compliment your eagerness is. Did you come to sweeten my gift with your jealousy, Lord Godwinn?” Fia taunted.

Oliver curled his lip in contempt. “Jealousy? Of what am I meant to be jealous? Your inability to fly without assistance?” he smirked. “That’s adorable, Fi.”

Fia almost laughed out loud. Oliver knew very well that she could fly without the aid of a kirin. He was the one who’d thumbed his nose at the rules against cross-training among the houses to teach her how to do it. “Aww. It’s so precious when you pout about being inferior, Oliver.” Fia reached over to chuck his chin. “Head up, Halosian. I promise to have Kamï fry you to a crisp one day really soon and put you out of your misery.”

Oliver scowled, slapping her hand away. His eyes glittered with amusement despite his apparent affront.

Fia’s father reached up to rub at his chin, covering his mouth as he did.

Zarina gasped. “What vile manners fester under the disguise of pretty faces these days?” the Contessa commented.

“A noteworthy perception, Zarina,” Xavier said. “Tell me…”

“Why don’t you go inspect the manner of your imminent defeat a bit closer, Oliver,” Fia suggested, purposefully ignoring their parent’s continued argument. She winked at her friend as she offered the means of escape for them both.

Oliver smirked evilly back before tsking at her in disappointment. “Defeat is such an inaccurate miscalculation on your part. I would like to test a theory by inspecting your prize, however.”

“Would you now?”

“Yes. I’ve heard rumors that owners often resemble their pets. Would you mind accompanying me so I can properly catalog the comparisons between you and your beast?” Oliver offered her his arm.

Fia snorted, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Shall I begin the list for you?”

“Confidence not arrogance, child,” Rosilyn interrupted before they could even take a step. Her lack of involvement in the current politely veiled battle being waged combined with the Guardian’s far too perceptive gaze, made Fia squirm like a candle in a drafty room. She swallowed hard. “I understand, Densî,” she finally replied.

“Your list, my lady,” Oliver reminded, tugging her away towards the kirin’s pen.

“Ah yes. Let’s see. Stunning beauty, powerful magic, rare…” Fia trailed off as they moved away from earshot. “Amalis Guardian reputations are definitely not exaggerated,” she huffed.

“Does that mean you aren’t planning on going beyond compulsory duties to become a full-fledged Densî?” he asked in a carefully neutral tone.

“No, thank you,” Fia shuddered.

Oliver gave a quiet chuckle.

They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments. Fia, absorbed with her thoughts of Kamï and her excitement to finally earn the kirin image on her personal crest, practically skipped along at Oliver’s side.

“Your bouncing is making me positively violent, and I already have half a mind to challenge you over that comment about my imminent defeat back there,” her friend scolded almost playfully, breaking into her daydreams.

“Whatever for?” Fia exclaimed.

“I’m deeply offended you think I’d ever allow you to defeat me. I never lose, Fi.”

Fia giggled. Him calling her ‘Fi’ was proof in itself that he’d lost at least once. Oliver abhorred the practice of shortening names. The dissonance of his rigidness over such a thing and his general disdain for social niceties had always been hilarious to her. This particular prize for trouncing him in a game of Gambit had been sweetly paying dividends for well on five years now and proof of her victory never ceased to delight.

“Never, Olly,” she asked sweetly.

“Almost never,” Oliver grumbled.

Fia giggled again. Dropping his arm, she poked him in the side before prancing away towards the fenced paddock. “The word never is such an inaccurate miscalculation on your part,” she sang back at him.

“Are you declaring war, Lady Tarsan? Your death threat earlier lacked the subtlety of conversational repartee. Should I consider it an en garde?”

“You should consider it a suggestion to lighten up. Stop sparring with me, there’s no one around but me. Come bask in the splendor of all our hard work.” Fia stretched her arms wide, spinning in circles madly, before turning to lean eagerly forward on the rough stone wall of the pen.

The scaled, deer-like creature shuffled over to her, nuzzling at her hand sweetly. Fia smoothed Kamï’s ears, pulling the white flames that circled the kirin’s antler into her palm and swirling them around her fingertips with each stroke. She could feel the entrancing push and pull of the combined magic go straight to her head. It was intoxicatingly joyful in a way Fia had never experienced - the feel of her own magical duality mirrored back at her filled her with a fierce kind of love.

“Fi? Are you even listening to me?” her friend asked.

“Mmmhmm,” she replied dreamily. “What did you say?

“I said - Your hard work,” Oliver corrected, reaching out his hand carelessly to scratch beneath Kamï’s chin.

“Oliver! Wait! Don’t –” Fia warned, snapping out of her trance. She grabbed for his wrist, her haste scorching him with the kirin fire still on her skin, but it was too late.

It all happened so fast after that.

Oliver yelped, his fingers dragging across the reversed scale on the underside of the creature’s snout, Kamï’s eyes rolling widely as they shifted from dulcet blue to chilling red. The animal’s sudden madness morphing it into a living nightmare. She threw up a shield of air, feeling Oliver’s own defenses slide in around her own, just before the spikes of the beasts thrashing tail crashed into her skull. Fia heard the panicked shouts of her father and Rosilyn in the distance but they were too far away - drowned out by the echoing screams of the defenseless Noric workers as their flesh melted under wild streaks of flame. Even Oliver’s hollered curses from beside her were mere whispers compared to the chilling noise of shattering bones or the resonance of agonized shrieks. The sound of their suffering would haunt her for a thousand lifetimes.

She tried to reach out and pull the creature back under her control, tried to cage the wild destruction inside a combined spinning funnel of fire and air, but Fia’s magic was no match for the chaos of two elemental dragons in one body.

Fia knew what she had to do. And it broke her heart.

Clenching her teeth in bitter acceptance, she reached for the multi-colored steel star she wore around her neck. It had been a gift from her grandmother on the day of her first blood reading, a priceless family heirloom made of the rarest magical metal in existence. Snapping the chain with a firm yank, Fia palmed the eight-sided symbol and threaded her fingers around the points before scrambling over the crumbling remains of the rock enclosure and stepping directly into the flames. They licked their way across her skin as she made her way toward a mindless Kamï with quick efficiency. It was a risk to come this close, a gamble to think the surface-level bonding Fia had begun would extend her some instinctual protection, but it was the only plan she had. Snapping her left hand out to grasp the kirin’s single antler, the direct contact with the elemental fire burned even Fia and she gasped in pain even as she sliced her right hand forcefully across - slitting her Kamï’s throat in one brutal slash.

Fia watched as red bled back into blue in the animal’s eyes and the life drained from its body before finally releasing it as it fell dead onto the ground. The silence was deafening in its suddenness. The sticky feel of blood mixed with her tears as they streaked down her face.

“Fi? By Fate, are you okay?” Fia heard Oliver’s voice ring out just before his arms wrapped around her.

She shoved him violently away from her, blasting him with shots of air until he had scrambled far enough away to deflect her attack. “Get away from me, Oliver Godwinn.”

“Fiametta, please calm down. I forgot. It was an accident.” Oliver’s eyes pleaded with her to understand even as his voice rose with anger.

“I have told you a thousand times about this - a thousand times! I cried to you of my fear and you forgot?!”

“Fi,” he pleaded, his mask slipping for a second with remorse.

Fia did not care.

“NO!” she yelled. “You are poison, Oliver, a poison that destroys everything noble and innocent that you touch. I will never forgive you for what you’ve made me do here today. May they bury you beneath the earth to rot far from the beloved sky,” Fia shouted, screaming the Halosian curse at him with sobbing intensity.

Oliver’s face twisted briefly with pain before shuttering completely. “May Fate bless you with the fulfillment of your curse one day, Fiametta Tarsan,” he said coldly, turning on his heel and striding away.

Fia watched him go, truly friendless at last and felt nothing but emptiness.

“My heart! Fia!” her father exclaimed, finally arriving at her side. “By Fate and Orynn’s eyes, you are covered in blood. Are you hurt?” Xavier clutched her in his embrace, patting her with worried agitation. His eyes landed on the slaughtered noble kirin, his face turning grim as they darted between the body, Fia, and Oliver’s retreating form. “Fia?” he questioned in a hushed tone.

Fia couldn’t bring herself to look at her father or her murdered kirin. Her gaze could only follow the cause of all of her loss. Ollie was gone. Kamï was gone. Her father’s smile was gone.

“There are no more dragons in the valley, Father,” Fiametta replied in a flat tone. “The dragons are no more.”