The Flames of War

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. As far as anyone knew, the only place that held dragons was the land of the Fae called the Golden North. The Fae had long enslaved the dragons, breeding them to be mounts and pawns in their battles.

The Fae were a small, yet overly proud race. Their beauty was unmatched, and their strength went uncontested in both physical and magical skills. Despite their vainglorious natures, they despised their own home, their constant warfare having turned it into a wasteland. For this reason alone, they too resented the Elves' Valley for being a serene place of peace the North could never hope to be. As time passed, hatred for the Elves grew, the discontent among the commoners nothing compared to that from the kings and queens ruling above them.

Perhaps it was from a place of jealousy that the Fae would at last begin to encroach on the Elves' ethereal Valley, or even just out of spite. Regardless of the reason, once the Fae started their invasion, the Valley would never again be the sanctuary of its past. Wherever the Fae went, the wings of their dragons brought the flames of war.

...

Dian's heart pounded with a fury within her ribs. Something was out there, something with a desire to see her ripped apart. Her throat thrummed with nervousness. Slowly and carefully, Dian raised her silver blade in preparation, the edge sharp and ready to spill blood. A low growling emanated from the treeline, pines all too still. A heavy footstep beyond her sight made a squelching thud in the wet mossy grounds. Adrenaline surged through the Fae's veins, accompanying the fear.

She'd been so relieved to pass the Elven barrier into the Valley that she hadn't considered there might be dangers lurking beyond.

The moment her mind wandered, a massive jagged shape hurtled towards her with surprising speed. Unprepared as she'd become in that second, all Dian could do was stumble back and swing wildly. Barely hitting the beast, she only succeeded in making it angry. She could hardly make out the creature, only that it seemed far too quick for its size. Slimy-looking scales covered the beast's body, dripping with ooze.

Her silver-green eyes flicked upwards to scan the creature, dread filling her body. It had a similarly-shaped body to the dragons she'd seen in the Golden North, but this one had a sickly blue hue and a long set of necks-- a total of two, both with furious-looking heads atop them. Its body and finned legs were much bulkier than the drake, claws leaving gouges in the wet dirt as it walked about. Four sharp yellow-green eyes watched her sword warily, and both sets of lips lifted simultaneously in matching irritation. Though Dian hadn't done much damage to its thick hide, it-- or they-- certainly hadn't appreciated the hit. Dark green blood, almost black, seeped from the short wound on its hindquarters. The head on the right bent down and licked at its cut with a forked red tongue. A guttural snarl tumbled from the other's cracked mouth, revealing yellowed teeth and bright pink gums in doing so. It had to be a dragon, but it wasn't any sort she'd ever seen before.

Its muscles bunched up under its skin as it prepared to jump at her, wriggling its rump, not unlike a cat. Dian was forced to sidestep to the right and roll through the muddy ground, given no time to go on the offense. She let her sword arm go slack, instead relying on agility to dodge its dual heads. Her heart continued to pound inside her chest, and she briefly considered the irony that inside the Elven Valley just might be more dangerous than the world she'd escaped outside it. To her dismay, though the dragon's bulky body was turning somewhat slowly, its heads were anything but. The leftmost head stretched to look, but the right had already spread its massive jaws while extending towards her. Dian's mind raced as her senses sharpened, her breath turning into heavy heaving as she again darted out of the way.

The more they continued their dangerous dance, the more Dian took note of the beast's movement. It seemed to her that although it could charge ahead without abandon, the dragon's size limited its agility in turning side to side. Even so, it made up for this slight weakness with its lightning-fast heads.

It remained this way for nearly a full minute, with Dian constantly darting out of the way while the dragon's snapping never stopped. She hadn't managed a single hit in that time yet still had sustained a harsh scrape against her cheek from its rough skin. Warm blood trickled down her face from when its tail had whipped around and given her a full cut across her forehead. The more time went on, the angrier the scaly beast seemed to become. Its already turbulent movements turned wayward, snapping at thin air.

A single chance presented itself, and the Fae gave herself no time to think on it. Her grip on the silver hilt of her sword tightened considerably as she dug her heels into the mud. Shooting forward, Dian plunged the blade into the dragon's shoulder, ignoring its ferocious cry while she scaled its rigid hide. Her hands bled from its jagged spikes, but they were also the only things allowing her to remain on its body while it thrashed about.

As the dragon tried to buck her off, Dian slid her sword out from the thick flesh, again paying no heed to the ensuing angry howl. Taking a chance, she raised the silver blade with both hands and swung at both necks with all the strength her exhausted body could muster. To her immense relief, the sword cut through the serpentine beast's flesh like a hot knife through butter, smooth and uninhibited. The heads fell to the wet ground with a violent splash, droplets of both muddy water and thick green-black blood hitting her exposed face. Her skin began to scream with burning pain at the touch of the blood.

She leaped off the dragon's shaking body and plunged her hands into a nearby pool of water, dousing her face in the hope of relief from the fiery pain. As the blood washed from her skin, so did the burning abate ever so slightly. Chagrin hit her as she watched it sink through her golden armor, rent and broken from the battle. She shed the mail as quickly as possible before the remainder of the venomous blood could reach her skin.

Her sharp panting began to slow, though her heart still beat with a fury. The only armor that remained on her body were her greaves and boots, and though not unscathed, they had made it through without being soaked by blood. "That's that, then." A hoarse cough forced itself from her chest as she spoke. The adrenaline began to fade, allowing her to feel each scrape and hit from the battle. Her lungs screamed while a large area on her left side ached acutely. If a few ribs hadn't been broken, she'd be shocked. In the back of her mind, she idly noted that she hadn't seen the particular species of dragon in any of the ancient tomes from her lessons in the North, or at least not that she could remember. In fact, to her knowledge, there hadn't been dragons in general in the Elven Valley in millennia.

Dian trailed a finger aimlessly through the wet ground, silver-green eyes half-closing. She inspected the decapitated heads from afar, noting their grotesque appearance amongst the moss-covered trees surrounding them. Fatigue tugged at her limbs, and she climbed to her feet unsteadily with a hand leaning against a pine's trunk to keep her balance. The threat extinguished, she could find shelter to give her a chance to recover.

She hadn't taken any more than a single step when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and stood up, anxiety gripping her. Hating the feeling of dread, the Fae turned around, praying that she was simply being paranoid.

Of course, no such luck was to be found.

A squelching noise came from the muck under the dragon as its body began shaking, the two stumps where its heads had formerly been starting to shudder. Alarm struck Dian as she backed away, the trepidation growing tenfold as she watched the flesh contort and stretch, muffled yowls and whimpers coming from some hidden orifice.

The dragon swayed back and forth, and Dian shook herself from her consternation as two new heads started to protrude from each stump. It only took a few seconds for the growth to be complete. Now, instead of two heads to deal with, there were four. A vicious expletive burst from the Fae's mouth as she cracked her neck, preparing to face the threat once more. This time, she rushed the beast as it stumbled and started to hack away, hoping that injuring it enough would prevent regrowth. Its trapped heads screamed for vengeance, breaking free of their fleshy prisons. She removed another head, though this time, the dragon failed to collapse. The three remaining heads turned and snapped at her while the stump started to regenerate. The increased speed threw her off, only serving to heighten her panic.

The beast's regeneration was now swifter, splitting into two heads at a faster pace. Transparent green slime dripped from each head and neck. This time, Dian didn't waste another second, rushing the dragon and cutting at its goopy faces. She took care to avoid slicing the heads off, instead thrusting the blade into its brains. The attacks didn't seem to so much as daze it, and Dian began desperately trying to formulate a new plan. Unfortunately, none came to mind. The dragon had already displayed enough dexterity to chase her down if she chose to run, and she again cursed herself for not fleeing when given the chance.

Five heads now bit and hissed at her, and her sword was ripped from her hand altogether when a head swung at her arm. Its coarse scales scraped up her now-armorless body, though in a moment of inspiration, she grasped onto a sharp horn as the singular head lunged. The head howled as she snapped it off and jabbed it into the eye of the head to her left, gritting her teeth as more dark blood hit her skin. One of the others attempted to bite at her as well, though only succeeded in nipping at another, having tangled itself up. The second head, enraged at its sibling's attack, snarled and snapped with sharp teeth at the first.

With three distracted, she was able to retrieve her sword and cut at the jaw of the one that stretched out, shaving off a bit of skin. Its neck contorted to look at her again, and with a ferocious roar, lurched her way. Trapped between another head and its thick tail, to her frustration, Dian found her only defense was to cleave the head off. The dragon nearly tripped, and the Fae clenched her teeth to stop the fearful clattering as the head's stump started to regenerate. A roar erupted from the opposite head, and the three bickering heads shook themselves out of their fight to look at the other. Sharing a brief snarling conversation, the four heads turned synchronously to stare at the two others growing from their right.

Crowing and barking with a triumphant fury, the six turned to face their doomed opponent dripping with sweat and with no way out.

The whisper of a plan in Dian's head vanished as a new silhouette leaped onto the first head, driving a strange weapon through its tough outside while the dragon's heads collectively screamed. Another weapon was drawn from the newcomer's belt, and they swung at its neck. Dian opened her mouth to shout at them, to say that the head would merely regrow, but a swift-flying arrow darting just in front of her face plunged into the empty socket. A flare rushed across the stump, cauterizing its tough flesh. Three more entered the fray, an alien language tumbling from their lips. It didn't take long for Dian to gather that this was a patrol of Elves, and a strange mixture of wonder, relief, and apprehension joined the erratic beating of her heart.

The second of the four held another of the strange weapons in his hand, using its base to slice off a head while its kin-heads cried out in dismay. One by one, the heads were severed with the stumps burnt and dead, regeneration ended at the source. With a final thrust, the first Elf expertly flipped the tri-horned weapon around and plunged it into the dragon's tough outside, breaking through the bonelike exterior.

Black hair swirled about the Elf's back from under his helmet as he stepped away, his breath steady. The patrol came together, wordless. It was clear they'd known exactly what they were dealing with and just how to destroy it. Dian's eyes wandered to the forms of her saviors-- and potential foes.

As she'd thought, they were Elves. However, they were nothing like the Elves Dian had pictured. Armor covered most of their bodies, the protective pieces seemingly woven from tough black reeds. The dark blood of the dragon flowed down the plates of some but didn't burn through as it had to her own golden mail. A symbol emblazoned in blue had been carved in the middle. It was some sort of serpent-beast she did not recognize being slain by the same unfamiliar weapon the strangers had wielded. The skin of the Elves in some places bore an aqua-colored tint. Eyes of various hues watched her critically.

"Excuse me." The speaker drew Dian's attention. Though he was not the tallest of the group, he radiated authority. Undoubtedly, this was the commander of the patrol. Tossing his weapon to a female with bone-white hair, he removed the reed-woven helm and shook out the long black hair tied at the nape of his neck. Vigilant blue eyes settled on her. He had strong features, face tinted a faint blue on an otherwise lightly tanned and sharp jawline. His ears were oddly shaped by Dian's standards. Different from any she'd ever seen, they had pointed tips and jagged sides brushed with blue, almost finlike in appearance without the thin membrane to make it so. She twisted her head to get a better look at them.

The mystery Elf started circling the Fae, not quite hostile but certainly not friendly, either. "What's a She-Elf doing so far into the hydra nesting grounds?" he queried, voice level and wary, deep in tone. Dian tucked the dragon's name away in her mind for future reference. The Elf held out a hand, which she hesitantly took after a few seconds. He extended his fingers and brushed Dian's gold-dusted peach ears, far longer than his jagged blue ones. She instantly folded hers backward and glared, smacking him away when he reached again. He withdrew his hand and curled it into a fist with a disgusted expression. "You're no Elf." The other three Elves instantly pointed their weapons at her in one synchronic motion. "What are you doing here, Fae?" the leader demanded, his scowl deepening when Dian squeezed her sword and remained stubbornly silent. "Answer me." The fact that he did not raise his voice somehow made him seem more intimidating. "You'd be dead without us, Fae. I can easily fix that."

Dian bit her tongue before replying with a heavy snarl. "It's really none of your business, now is it?" she spat, uncaring about the Elf's warning. "Give me your name, and I'll give you mine. Fair?" Dian's command resulted in the leader tensing up, gripping his helmet tighter in his hand. "And here I thought you Elves were a bit more refined than this."

The Elf's eyes narrowed. "And here I thought the Fae were supposed to stay out of the Valley."

Dian eyed the green blood dripping down the Elf's breastplate. "Don't touch that," she said in an offhand tone as though they were having an amicable conversation as opposed to an intense standoff. "Dragon blood burns." She flexed her fingers, the pain still eating away at her skin.

The Elf's eyes hardened. "I know."

After a moment of silence, Dian gestured to the dead hydra across the clearing. "Although I can't say I'm not surprised to see it here." In one swift motion, the leader reclaimed his weapon from his subordinate and trapped the hilt of Dian's blade in its fork. He forced the sword from her hands with a twist and kicked it away.

"Why would you be surprised, Fae? You brought it here." He pressed the tri-horned weapon to Dian's chest as she made to retrieve her blade. "One more step and this trident goes right through you." Although Dian could at last place a name to the Elf's odd weapon, his threat didn't sit well with her.

"I didn't bring any dragons," Dian hissed, "and if I had, I wouldn't have been fighting one." Dian's silver-green eyes remained on the Elf's face, hatred pulsating from her audible snarl. Despite its clear unfamiliarity, the noise did not seem to faze the Elf. She slowly pushed the trident from her breast, refusing to break eye contact. "Idiot."

One of the other Elves stepped forward, a male with silver-gray hair. He held even more hate in his eyes than the commander. "You speak to a prince, Fae! Show some respect."

"Oh, a prince!" Dian simpered. She gave a coy smile and batted her eyelashes before dropping the expression and staring with dull displeasure. "If only I cared." She gave a languorous stretch despite being aware of the dangers of each and every weapon pointed at her. "And your name, Highness?" The term was not one of respect or endearment, and this fact did not fail to catch the Elf's attention.

The Elf did not respond immediately, barely moving as he thought. His blue eyes observed Dian, watching her every movement. "I am Prince River of the Valley's Waterland Elves," he finally told her matter-of-factly. "But you may call me 'Your Majesty'... if I let you keep your tongue long enough to use it." The prince's expression was cold. His gaze roamed her form, again fixing on her ears. "I've given you enough. Who are you, and what are you doing in the Valley? Your kind always seems to end up where they don't belong."

Dian lifted her lips in a snarl, revealing her sharp canine teeth. She considered the potential ramifications of revealing her identity before settling on her answer. "Consider me a messenger. I'm here to see the king."

River pursed his lips and peered at Dian suspiciously for a moment before stepping back. "A messenger?"

"If you kill me, then thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, will die." The prince's stormy eyes remained fixed on Dian, a new hostility crackling inside. He put two forked fingers to his neck, bringing one of his Elves to remove a cloth strip from her wrist and make her way to Dian. "What do you think you're doing?!" The harsh screech failed to affect either River or his guards as the She-Elf started to wrap the strap around Dian's wrists.

"Taking you prisoner, of course," the prince stated. "We can't have Fae filth wandering our land, especially ones that refuse to cooperate and spew threats with every breath." Dian let out a vicious hiss, ears laid flat against her head. The silver-green discs around the Fae's pupils shone with anger. She'd barely opened her mouth to spit a denial when another Elf gagged her. "And don't think you'll be casting any spells to escape." River folded his arms across his chest while Dian screamed angrily through the bond. Her brown hair whipped at the air as she thrashed about. While the injuries she'd sustained from the dragon still pained her with an awful bite, she refused to back down. Her violent movements allowed her to evade the female guard and slip from the loose binds on her wrists.

Refusing to accept the lack of a weapon, Dian ripped the mouth gag from her face and threw punches at any who came near. Arms closed around her biceps, trapping her until she slammed her head back into the captor's face. He stumbled backward, and upon turning around, Dian saw it was the prince. The two sized each other up with careful glares, the prince holding up his hand to stay the guards.

"Let me go," Dian murmured, silver-green eyes flashing as her emotions flared. "That's all I ask." The Elf snapped his nose back into place, the cartilage giving an audible crack. Dian suppressed a wince at the sound.

"Not a chance. Not now," he replied through clenched teeth, fingers digging into his palms. His former calm façade had disappeared with Dian's attack, revealing his ire. The Fae woman gathered saliva in her mouth before spitting a bloody gob toward River. The prince wiped his cheek with a disgusted expression, keeping his hateful gaze on her all the while. The two circled each other, paying acute attention to each feature and movement of the other.

Dian saw everything the prince was, the way he moved with a grace redolent to the hungry sea and the serrated finlike shape of his ears with faint blue tones. There was the waving of the curtain of midnight-black hair like a rush of water and the sheen of sweat upon River's tanned brow, showing she'd forced him to exert himself after the hydra. Though his body was lithe, he was undeniably moderately muscled beneath his concealing armor woven of hard reedlike material.

Just as she watched the prince, so did he do the same to her. Hair the shade of a hawk's feathers flowed down to the middle of her ribs like a wave of fierce magic while intense pupils rimmed by viridian irises flecked with silver reflected the light in a way that was alien to him. Her skin held a slight shimmering gloss of gold. Ears half the size of his forearm moved in a way he'd never seen on his Elven kin. Her posture was both offensive and defensive, and he had no doubt she could use both stances in battle.

What they recognized most in each other was the mirrored determination in their opponent's eyes. Stormy sea met starlit forest, and the silent battle ensued.

The barest twitch of River's fingers alerted Dian to an upcoming movement, allowing her time to dart out of his jump and rebound with a tackle that strained her torso. The Elf grunted under her unexpected weight and retaliated with a stiff knee to her stomach. River darted forward, intending to take Dian's temporary stun to his advantage. Dian, however, refused to be so easily bested. A swift uppercut below his ribs knocked the air out of him as well.

She skittered away and rubbed at her now-sore knuckles, nearly slipping on the moist land beneath her. On the other hand, River appeared quite at home in the wet terrain, his feet dancing expertly around the various patches of grass and mud. Even the soaked moss on the ground proved more of a help than a hindrance to the Elf. Dian's tongue darted out to catch a droplet of sweat from her lips, the tang reminding her that she was much worse off than the prince. She'd fought the violent hydra far longer than he and his patrol had, putting her at a distinct disadvantage. Even so, she would not allow herself to give in to the exhaustion tugging at her limbs.

While Dian's eyes were steeled and set on the prince, his own wandered to a spot just behind her. Her proceeding attempt to gain the upper hand failed, a harsh yanking at her stomach sending her tumbling backward into the waiting arms of another of the Elves' patrol. She was swiftly tied up, hands bound far tighter than before.

She'd been rendered useless by the angry blue Elven soldier sealing her, a male with gray hair tied in a ponytail. Trapped as she was, she still made it more difficult by writhing around and spitting a stream of insults in all the tongues she knew. The language grew more profane when she caught sight of River with a triumphant smirk curved upon his angled face.

"You'll regret this!" Dian screamed, thrashing violently and kicking at empty air. "Do you want war?!"

River's sly smile fell from his face, lips lifting up in a snarl. "War? Your kind declared war as soon as you sent the dragons into the Valley!" Ignoring Dian's defying shouts, the prince shoved the furious Fae to the side with his foot. "Bring her to the capital. She can rot in the prisons for all I care."

"At this point, why not just kill me now?" Dian challenged, kicking mud up at River. His icy blue eyes settled on her, and the sudden realization within them chilled Dian to the bone.

"Because we're not savages, Princess." He turned his back, leaving Dian fumbling for a retort. "We're nothing like your kind. You wanted to see our king? Here's your chance."