Outcasts

It was sleeping on the ground, waiting.

Alzagoth tilted her head, teetering backwards and inhaling stiffly through her nostrils, the furnace in her lungs growled.

Once she would have devoured it, long ago. No more, she told herself for the thousand-thousandth time since she made the promise. No matter what the Taskillion said. She made her vow.

But it’s just bloody lying there! Her darker side bemoaned; and it was correct. The nearest human village was a fifty beat ride to the west, short for a dragon but several days for the two-legged pink ones. So why was one of their spawn here? So close to the Taskillion.

The small child was simply laying there in the clearing, eyes closed, the rhythmic rising and lowering of its chest proved it was still breathing. The child stirred in its slumber, spooking Alzagoth. She stepped back a few paces and was spooked again when she heard a log crack beneath her hind leg.

The child’s eyes opened and its face went pale, eyes welled in fright as they gazed upon Alzagoth. She wanted to fly off right then, beat her wings, ascend skywards and leave the child alone.

But she could not.

It looked so helpless, laying there on the ground. It’s not helpless, it’s a thing, a slayer, a blight! The darker side came out again.

It’s only a child, still a baby almost, she told herself. She approached slowly, tentatively, carefully examining the language of the strange creature’s body. The child wrapped it’s hands around it’s chest and cried into them, saying something in the curious dialect of man. She listened carefully to make out the words, “go a- onster-” she didn’t quite pick all of it up until she leaned her head forward to hear better. “Go away, monster!” it was a shriek of terror, like the one Alzagoth’s own hatchlings had made when the slayers stormed the Hardickan all those years ago.

Me, a monster? She thought. If only the child knew what it’s own kind had done that night, how they had slew a hundred dragons with their skyships and handfire, it would not be Alzagoth she called monster. I need to calm it, Alzagoth thought. But she could see no way of doing so, no way of speaking, unless…

No! It is forbidden, the Only Sin!

But what was sinful about it? It was the only way dragons had communicated since time took its first breath. The Connection. Could it even be done on humans? Surely it had to have been done before for it to be deemed Dragonkind's Only Sin. What would the Taskillion do if they found out?

I am already exiled, there is little else they could do.

So she did it.

She reached out her mind into the realm between, where the lines of the natural and preternatural worlds blurred in mist. Her spectral visage found the child’s, still huddled on the ground as in the waking world, and Alzagoth held her head to it.

Memories came flooding to Alzagoth, thoughts and experiences, so many but so few. Every second of the three years this child had lived. Of course, she realised, humans did not tread in the realm between and had no barriers set up like dragons did.

So she felt it all.

She remembered being cradled by the mother’s comforting arms, looking up at her, a rounded face with deep, oaken eyes and flowing dark hair. The mother looked down and whispered something that Alzagoth immediately recognised as the child’s name. “Shyle,” she said it like a song.

Suddenly the memory felt dark, a man’s voice distorted the comfort and brought fear to the mother and in turn, Shyle. It was the father, a large, foreboding man who Shyle only remembered in vague shadow.

Shyle’s first true memory was of her mother crying after her father left the room. Alzagoth’s heart sank into sadness, the sadness that Shyle felt.

She searched for the last time Shyle had seen her mother, it was in the rain and darkness. She was confused, felt the comforting weight of her mother’s arms letting go and suddenly being in the woods, her mother lost in the night. Now she was alone, that was days ago.

Alzagoth seeked through Shyle’s mind one last time, searching for something specific. She found it quickly. A log cabin in a village with a cobblestone chimney, with a lone red brick in the centre, puffing smoke, her home. Alzagoth recognised the village.

Unhallow, fifty beats west.

Alzagoth tore herself away from Shyle’s mind and returned solemnly to the natural world. Shyle was no longer crying, but still wore shock on her mien.

“Can you hear me?” Alzagoth asked, she needed to be sure the connection was made.

Shyle nodded.

Alzagoth took her in properly for the first time, she wasn’t a thing, a slayer or a blight. Shyle was a young girl with her mother’s eyes and a shiver from the cold, fear and hunger. “I’m going to take you home.”

She could not take the child back to Unhallow until night had fallen, if she was seen anywhere near the village they would try to pull her from the sky and see her headless before sundown.

Shyle was still frightened for the longest time. It wasn’t until Alzagoth had piled some logs, breathed gently on them to create a campfire and cooked an easily hunted deer for herself and Shyle to eat, that the child seemed to accept Alzagoth as a comforting presence.

Alzagoth ate most of the venison. Shyle only needed a small cut to satiate herself and by the time she was done the night was finally drawing in. “We will leave soon,” Alzagoth told her.

“To home?” Shyle asked as she sat up next to the fire.

“Yes, to home. To Unhallow."

"To mama?"

"Yes."

Alzagoth gently lifted a front talon and caressed the tired child as delicately as she could. Shyle seemed to hold back a wince at first. Alzagoth understood, if she encountered an unfamiliar beast fifty times her size she would struggle to find comfort. But eventually Shyle seemed to succumb to the comforting caress and full belly, for sleep came just as the sun crested downwards across the horizon and night brought forth its twin moons and inky sky.

How am I going to do this? Alzagoth wondered, tilting her head in a foolish attempt to try and orient the child, to figure out a way to carry her. She nudged Shyle with the knuckle of her front-left talon, she was out cold. The poor thing mustn’t have slept properly for days. The nudge became one final caress on the cheek before carefully scooping Shyle into the palm of her left claw and sealing the grasp with her right.

“Sleep well, hatchling.” She passed on as many comforting thoughts to Shyle as she could through the Connection. Once she was satisfied with the child’s deep slumber, she gave her wings a strong, fierce beat against the forest clearing around them and ascended upwards to the cloudless night and made west for Unhallow.

Shyle stayed asleep for the entire journey, through all fifty beats of her wings and the soaring that followed each one. This was how she’d carried the eggs of her own spawn before… before the Hardickan.

She stopped letting her mind wander, instead she looked below, to the orange glow that declaimed human civilisation.

That was where dragonkind and humanity differed, Alzagoth thought. There was always a beating heart to humankind’s homes and villages and cities, but she would never go within a hundred beats of a city. Not unless she wanted to become a trophy on some king’s wall. Even the village was a risk, but if she was careful enough she could tread without being seen, there were no skyships keeping watch for dragons in Unhallow.

She circled Unhallow several times, each time taking a closer look at the buildings below to find the log cabin from Shyle’s memories. It was on the fourth circle she finally spotted it. She focused her vision to be absolutely sure. The lone red brick within the cobblestone made it certain.

Alzagoth curved her wings behind her back and swooped downwards towards the cabin, being sure to soften her descent with a single soft beat of her wings a quarter mile above the ground.

She connected with the ground as lightly as a feather, but Shyle must have known she was home. The child awoke with a gentle start, fussing for a moment before Alzagoth gently rocked her within her encased talon.

“It’s okay, sweet hatchling. You will be home soon.” she sent the thought to Shyle.

Alzagoth kept low, avoiding any light that might reveal her shape in the night.

The cabin Shyle’s family called home was surrounded by well trimmed shrubberies and flowers. This would look beautiful in the daylight, Alzagoth thought. A shame I could never see it.

There was a warm glow radiating from inside the homestead. Alzagoth nudged Shyle gently and she woke slowly with a wide yawn. She did not send her another message, it would be best for her to see for herself. Alzagoth raised her head slightly, dangerously, if the wrong person saw her…

She looked into the window of the cabin, and saw Shyle’s mother.

You can eat them both and no one would know! Alzagoth’s darker side, her old self, came out again in her mind.

No, no, no, no, no! Alzagoth battled back! She would not eat a human, but the instinctual urge clawed at her from the inside, the hunger for the meat of the enemy. No!

She looked down at Shyle, she looked a little worried, as if she knew what Alzagoth had been thinking. “Shh…” Alzagoth sent gently.

Alzagoth looked back up at the window.

Shyle’s mother was staring at her, frozen in fright. No! Alzagoth panicked, she forced away the urge to fly up immediately and flee. If the woman screamed then it might alert the wrong people, if there was even a single wizard in Unhallow it could mean her death. She needs to know why I’m here.

Don’t do it!

I’ve already done it once… The Only Sin…

She entered the realm between, pushed through the mist and found the spirit of Shyle’s mother, exactly where she stood in the waking world, and made The Connection.

She leapt out of the realm between and saw the mother drop the plate she had been holding.

“I’m bringing your child back to you,” she sent frantically, trying to bring comfort in the message.

The mother backed away from the window as her eyes found Shyle resting between Alzagoth’s claws. She covered her mouth to suppress a scream. “Take her away,” the mother’s thought came loud, clear and terrified. “Please.”

Alzagoth’s heart sank. “Why?” she asked.

The memory came to Alzagoth like a strike.

The mother held Shyle, calming her after she had cried. She felt the pulsating bruise below her eye and tried to ignore the pain.

“You better keep her quiet, I swear to the gods!” her husband shouted from the other room. The mother tensed up, began to shake as she rocked Shyle between her arms. “If you can’t make her quiet then I will!”

The blistering recollections of her husband’s attack soured any thoughts the mother could conjure to calm herself. You will not hurt her! The mother thought. I won’t let you put your hands on her!

It was the following day she decided to let Shyle go, her heart shattered at the notion. Would she rather her daughter die in the wild than suffer the scum she had married? Living with that, she thought, is no life.

They were in their cart, ready to carry goods to the next town over, careful to avoid the nearby pastures where dragons had sometimes been seen. It was at night she did it, after the father had gone to sleep. She went into the woods, away from his dissonant snores and didn’t stop until she could hear only grasshoppers in the elsewise silent night.

She found a clearing and placed a sleeping Shyle down, tears streaming down her face as she wrapped her up in wools to keep her warm. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

The mother ran back to the campsite, leaving her silent sweetheart behind. What have I done?

Not a single day had passed since then that she had not cried.

Alzagoth was pushed out of the memory. Feeling agony that she had only felt when she lost her own hatchlings… “She will be safe.” Alzagoth sent to the mother.

With a powerful thrust she rose into the onyx sky above faster than she ever had before. She went to sever the link with the mother, hearing only “please,” before the Connection died.

“Where are we going?” Shyle asked. Alzagoth could feel her sadness, her confusion.

Alzagoth did not know, she had no home… except.

It’s the only place I can go, she told herself. Her dark side did not pipe up to argue with the decision. She turned to face the east and beat against the wind. “We’re going to the Taskillion,” she told Shyle.

She flew all through the night, over a thousand beats of her wings to her former home, her head filled with doubt and anxiety. Shyle did not question once where they were going, even though she, like most humans, had no idea about the Taskillion.

It wouldn’t be long until they arrived there now, she had already begun her descent down the high mountain passes and started to wind through the low valleys that led to the Marshland Sea that surrounded the Taskillion.

She focused her eyes forwards as soon as she saw the marsh beneath her, she could see only the most distant thimble of it, but it was there. Shyle looked ahead at the seemingly unending marshland, eyes wide with awe.

The awe only grew stronger as they got closer to the Taskillion. It was clear now to both Alzagoth and Shyle.

The Taskillion itself was a long extinct volcano, blacker than coal and bigger than anything else Alzagoth had ever seen. Inside the hollowed out mountain were thousands of her kin, including the elder council for which it was named after. Long ago there had been many dead mountain cities, until the humans harnessed their own magics and skyships. She remembered the Hardickan and wondered how long until the Taskillion would meet the same fate.

The marshland created a natural moat around the city, giving it great protection against anything but dragons, but that would not last long. The top of the mountain was circled every hour of every day by several dragons, prepared to warn the Taskillion council of any hostiles, but they were always under strict order to refuse no dragon.

Alzagoth made her presence known, she breathed three ropes of fire into the pink morning sky and gave a ferocious roar that broke the sunrise silence. The guarding dragons responded with their own roars that told her she could enter.

The Connection brought fear to Alzagoth from Shyle, she could feel her shaking. “It’s okay, hatchling,” she sent. “We will be okay, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Truthfully this place was dangerous for Shyle, but she knew there were friends here she could trust.

She rose high above the crater of the volcano and swooped down, Shyle squealed as they began their descent. Thankfully the din of the Taskillion muted any chance of people hearing her coos. A thousand pairs of eyes turned to her as she descended, all curious at the newcomer.

It was much the same as it had been when Alzagoth left. There were homes built into the walls of the mountain that could house several enormous dragons, many bigger than herself. The grounds were all littered with dragon feathers and scorch marks where hatchlings had practised their breathing. The city was lit with veins of fire from the Under Furnace deep below, where the council had their hall.

She knew exactly where she was going.

Alzagoth’s descent stopped as soon as she reached the level she needed, then she bolted through the caverns and passageways created by the original settlers when the mountain was first bored.

It wasn’t long before she found Daznorad’s home, her oldest friend. His was a modest dwelling, enough for just himself and plenty of room for the ancient stone tablets that he had studied for as long as Alzagoth could remember. She alerted him through the Connection, the strongest she had ever had except for her own mother’s, before she returned to the flame.

“Alzagoth!” He sounded delighted, but she could sense a dismay beneath the joy. He came to the opening of his home and gestured his head for her to enter.

“Daznorad, it’s good to see yo-”

“What are you doing here? The Taskillion had you banished.” He sent frantically. Alzagoth was taken aback, it was the first time Daznorad had ever cut her off in the hundreds of years they had known one another. “If anybody finds out…”

Alzagoth looked down towards her front claws and opened her talons gently. Shyle was shaking like a leaf, scared but clinging on to the little comfort she had. She shied away, covering her face, when she saw Daznorad.

“What have you done?” He sent, the dismay seemingly turning to fear. “It’s one thing to stop yourself from killing them, Alzagoth, but to bring one here! They will kill you both.”

“We just need somewhere to be,” Alzagoth begged. “It won’t be for very long, she will be fully grown in just fifteen years.” That notion was strange to her; a decade for dragons was scarcely a passing of time at all, but for humans it was an eighth of their life. Strange how such creatures hold such power.

“You will have been seen entering the mountain! How long until somebody knows where to find the banished human lover’s closest friend?”

“Please, Daznorad.” Alzagoth begged. She saw something turn in him then, the panic, fear and anger faded into something else. Pity, Alzagoth thought.

“Make yourself comfortable, I will get you some food.” He made sure Alzagoth found a place spacious enough to sit. There she let Shyle free.

Shyle didn’t cry or fuss, she simply walked around in curiosity. “Where we?” Shyle sent.

“This is home, for a little while.”

“Where’s mama?”

“Mama thinks you’ll be safer with me,” Alzagoth said, trying to send happiness with the message.

Shyle didn’t respond, her face fell into something almost sad, but she soon made herself busy with finding things to play with. It was fascinating, seeing how the human hatchlings entertained themselves with whatever was nearby, with seemingly no care in what might or might not hurt them.

She began to play with one of Daznorad’s runestones, knocking it over as she tried to pick it up. “Oh, not that.” Alzagoth said. She leant over and grabbed the runestone with her claw, placing it back where it had been.

She took a quick glance at the markings on the rune, the scratching script unique to dragon’s talons. The markings read: Human Lovers Are Dragonkind’s Greatest Danger.

Alzagoth frowned, she didn’t want to read on. She averted her eyes but just caught the name of the runestone’s author… Daznorad.

She burst through the wall to where Daznorad kept his meat. There was no sign of him there… if he wasn’t getting them food, where was he?

She got to the mouth of Daznorad’s home and saw him. He was flying back through the passageways. With ten dragons behind him, their eyes bloody with rage.

Alzagoth burst back in and scooped up Shyle with her talons, quickly wrapping her back up between them. She pushed with all her might and flew directly towards the oncoming dragons, screaming fire at them as they tried to stop her flight. But even dragons were not immune to fire.

She smelled the scent of burning feathers as she passed them, they were all bigger than she, but fast they were not.

Quickly she found herself in the Taskillion’s atrium, where she could see the daylight sky above in a pinprick sized hole. She beat her wings faster than she ever had before. As a rule young dragons were told to not beat their wings too much, for it brought great exhaustion, but now it was necessary!

She looked back, saw Daznorad leading his group. Something terrible has happened since I left, she thought. This was not the Daznorad she knew.

They kept roaring fire at her, but she was just far enough ahead that none reached her. Soon other dragons took notice, and began chasing her themselves. She could feel Connections being made around her, no doubt Daznorad telling them all what Alzagoth was.

The crater was close now, she would be out in moments. But the crater began to darken, the daylight sky succumbing to blackness as the guards outside began to seal it with their bodies. There was only a crescent slither of light now and the others were gaining on Alzagoth quickly. She beat her wings again, forcing the speed despite the pain and coming exhaustion.

Alzagoth blasted her fire at the crater, scorching the guards’ bellies as she came close. Then she crashed through them, careful to keep Shyle safe.

Heavy downpour hit her as soon as she came out of the Taskillion, followed immediately by her pursuers. The dormant volcano erupted with over a hundred dragons, all breathing fire to try and stop her. She quickly severed her Connection with Daznorad, the longest she had ever had. Goodbye, old friend.

Alzagoth flew upwards, using the rain and cloud cover to escape them. It didn’t take long. They don’t want to be too far from the safety of the Taskillion, she thought.

Soon enough she could hear no wings except her own, and heard no fire scorching around the clouds.

She beat her wings fiercely against the wind, ascending above the rain clouds to the clear sky, Shyle in her grasp. If Unhallow won’t take you, and the Taskillion won’t take me, she thought, tightening her grasp on the child. We will find somewhere for ourselves.

And Alzagoth disappeared into the morning sky, Shyle tucked between her talons.