Winds of Change

There weren’t always dragons in the Valley.

There was a time when they were just a quiet, sleepy town so high in the Heaven’s Gate Mountains that most forgot they existed. They grew, gathered, and hunted their own food, only trading for what they couldn’t make on their own. The rest of the world was a far off place most of the Valley villagers only dreamed of seeing.

Some days Sorren wished it had stayed that way.

News of a coup in the country of Imlis to the south reached them near winter’s end. The entire royal family was slain by their court mage and advisor, Lilianna, who then crowned herself queen.

A whole host of unsavory rumors came with it; rumors of her cruelty and fondness for playing with living souls; of the strange, not quite human guards that followed her every order; of the way people were disappearing off the backstreets in every major town; of the death and purges in innocent villages; of the tribes of the most violent ket’zal joining under her flag.

As if all of that wasn’t bad enough, two months after news of the coup, the traders stopped showing up.

At first, it was blamed on the weather. There had been an extreme amount of snow that winter, it could have blocked the roads. But as the last pockets of it melted, there were still no signs of traders, or anyone else.

Sorren’s father, Chief Tarreck of the Valley, had a hard decision to make. They had held on this long without trade, but there were no seeds to plant, and winter stocks were running low. The more days that passed, the more heavily he considered moving the villagers down to the lower country and out of their ancestral home.

It was middle of spring when they showed up out of a crystal blue sky: dragons.

Seven of varying sizes, all silver, scales shining in the sunlight. The largest stooped into a dive, landing safely on the outskirts of town. As the villagers panicked and hid, it sat, waiting patiently.

Sorren heard the deep breath his father took, before stepping forward, past their pathetic walls, meant only for their usual wildlife: cave bears, forenwolves, and sabercats. He reached out, to stop him, to join him, he wasn’t sure. Small but strong hands wrapped around his arm. He looked into his mother’s eyes.

Her normally serene face was tight with tension, but she kept her grip.

“Trust your father, Sorren.”

The entire village watched with bated breath as Tarreck approached the enormous silver beast. He stopped thirty feet away, just out of immediate.

The dragon rose, Sorren’s breath caught, only to be exhaled in surprise as the dragon bowed.

As they all watched, the enormous body before them began to shrink, and in a flash of light, where there was a dragon, stood a man.

Even in his human form he was unique; brilliant blue eyes, silver white hair that reached his mid back. He wore only loose cotton pants and a simple shirt, no armor, no weapons, hands held out to the side in a show of peace.

“What brings you to our quiet village,…?”

“I am called Kurzaa by my family,” he gestured to the other dragons. One by one they landed, shifting into their human forms. Total there were three males, four females. The youngest couldn’t be more than seven in human years. All of them shared the unique physical features of Kurzaa. “My wife, Alpine, my daughters, Tundra, Aurora, and Lacia, and my sons, Cirrus and Pyry.”

Cirrus, a teenage boy with shaggy silver hair locked eyes with Sorren from across the field. His eyes were like sapphires, brilliant deep blue. As they stared, the boy’s pupils shifted into a vertical slit, the barest hint of red around the iris. And yet Sorren felt no fear, because all he could see was the exhaustion behind the show. Blinking in surprise, Cirrus looked away.

“We wish to ask permission to share this valley with you.”

There was a collective gasp from the villagers, yet Tarreck didn’t make a sound. He stared at Kurzaa, contemplative.

“We have heard the rumors of Imlis’ misfortune, and the rumors of her new queen, Lilianna, and her cruelty. Is this part of why you’ve come?”

There was a short silence, before Kurzaa nodded.

“We do not wish to keep secrets. We have no desire to be involved with the new queen’s… ambitions.” He looked at his family. “I only wish to keep my family safe.”

Tarreck nodded. “I understand. And if we were not in a touch of trouble of our own, I would extend the offer. However, at this time, I cannot.”

Kurzaa tilted his head. “If I may, what trouble?”

“The Village has been cut off from resources. We are mostly self-sufficient, but we are missing vital things to prepare for spring planting, and without these, there is no point in staying.”

Gasps rose up along the walls as the villagers realized what the chief was saying.

It was Kurzaa’s turn to contemplate Tarreck, then the village behind him.

“If we solve your supply problem, and you didn’t have to leave, would you reconsider allowing my family to stay?”

Tarreck startled. “I, well, yes, but we don’t know why the traders stopped….”

Kurzaa nodded. “We will investigate. If you have not heard from us in two days, I would suggest moving the village.”

The rest of the group had already shifted back to dragon, taking off one by one to circle above.

Before Tarreck could say anything else, Kurzaa shifted, leaping into the air in a blast of wind that rocked the wall. He let out a loud hiss and veered out over the trees. Soon they had vanished from sight.

Teara rushed to her husband’s side.

“What do we do now?”

He stared after the dragons, face both contemplative and slightly confused.

“We’ll wait. Two days won’t do any harm. If they have not returned, we will decide the next step.”

***

Bandits.

That’s what Kurzaa reported when the seven dragons returned a day and a half later with wagons full of supplies, much to the shock and excitement of the villagers.

Apparently the dragons weren’t the only ones looking to get out of Imlis, and a group of thieves had decided to take advantage of the situation. Or at least they were, until a family of irritated dragons put an end to their blockades and murdering spree.

Tarreck and Sorren had made trips to the neighboring towns to check in, only to find them each unloading their own sets of wagons. All of them were equally grateful to the men and women who had brought them.

As they returned home, Tarreck considered their situation.

Dragons were usually aloof of human going ons. They chose to remain separate and uninvolved except in rare occasions. And yet this family had gone out of their way to help not just one, but several villages. Even if they needed a place to hide, they had gone beyond what anyone had expected.

“Father, are we going to let them stay? They’ve been so helpful, and it wouldn’t hurt having extra hands around the village….” It was as though Sorren had read his mind.

“I was thinking the same. Looks like we have new neighbors. Now, hopefully we can all get along.”

***

“You’re aiming too high.”

“I am not.”

“You totally are.”

“Would you shut up??”

Cirrus huffed, but quit talking.

Damn dragon, Sorren thought with no real heat. After two years of friendship, he was used to Cirrus’s grumpy nature. Taking a deep breath, he re-aimed his arrow at the deer grazing a mere hundred feet away.

The world narrowed to just the feel of his bow in his hands, the touch of wind on his face, the thunder of galloping horses in the distance….

Wait… what?

The deer’s head jerked up, towards the sound.

Sorren hissed under his breath, adjusted his aim, just slightly, and released.

The arrow thudded into a tree as the deer bolted.

Sorren cursed, turning to Cirrus. “Did you…!”

Cirrus stood at full height on high alert. His sapphire eyes were ringed by red, silver scales flecked his face and arms. He stared in the direction of the hoof beats.

“What do you hear?”

“Horses, eight of them. Two are ahead, the rest pursue. There’s laughter and a bow being fired. I smell blood.”

A scream rang out, high pitched and terrified.

“Let’s go!”

But Cirrus was already moving.

They bolted through the forest, easily dodging trees and boulders.

Cirrus pulled ahead, thanks to his enhanced dragon genes. But he was easy to follow with his silver hair.

Now Sorren could hear the laughing, cruel and taunting. There was another scream.

Up ahead, the tree line ended.

Sorren caught Cirrus’s arm, yanking him behind a boulder before he could bolt into the open.

Cirrus glared. “What??”

“We need to assess before fighting. What if there are more than you could hear?”

There was a snort. Then a heavy sigh. “Fine.”

They each peered around a side of the boulder. Sorren cursed again.

There were six men, all cloaked and hooded, and armed to the teeth surrounding a fallen man. Two arrow stuck out of his back and side, and he wasn’t moving. A girl of no more than fifteen sobbed over him, blood staining her breeches and tunic.

She was covered in dirt and pine needles, as though she’d rolled across the ground.

A dead horse about thirty feet behind the group led him to believe that was exactly what had happened. A second horse danced nervously a short distance away.

One of the assailants, a huge man, well over six feet pulled the girl to her feet. He laughed as she struggled, kicked and punching.

A couple of the others mocked her, laughing when she sobbed harder. A third crept towards the skittish horse, slowly reaching for the reins.

As they turned, back to their own group of horses, Cirrus hissed, low and dangerous.

The back of their cloaks bore the purple rose of Lilianna, cruel queen of Imlis.

Cirrus’s eyes were full red now, glowing with fury.

Sorren nudged him. The dragon turned his glare on him, daring him to deny his right to attack.

As if Sorren could ever deny him.

Six months after their arrival, Cirrus’s mother, Alpine, had left on a supply and scouting run, only to never return. They found her body, broken and bloody at the foot of the mountains, a rose branded into her chest.

Kurzaa had raged for days, deep in the mountains, leaving the inconsolable children in the care of the villagers. Sorren’s mother had taken them into her care, making sure they ate, that the fire in their home didn’t go out. It had been awful, watching them grieve. Sorren wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Shaking the memories away, he met Cirrus’s eyes. There was still anger, but also a touch of concern.

“I’ll take out the big one and the one with the bow.”

Cirrus smiled, all sharp toothed glee. Then he was moving, dodging boulder to boulder, until he was closer to the front of the group.

The leader stopped next to his horse, which shied away, tossing its head. He growled at it in irritation, causing it to back up a step, eyes wide.

Sorren frowned. That seemed strange…. But maybe the horse didn’t approve of kidnap and murder either. Shrugging it off, he knocked and arrow and took aim.

Glancing to his right, he saw that Cirrus was ready.

Deep breath in. Then out. Fire.

The man screamed as the arrow hit home, right between his shoulder blades. He scrambled to pull it out, yowling in a very inhuman way. Then his hood fell.

Sorren’s eyes widened.

Where he had expected a normal man’s face, there was a fur covered muzzle, sharp teeth, and furious yellow eyes, as if a cat had decided to just up and walk on two legs.

With a snarl, the cat, man, thing gave up on the arrow, turning in Sorren’s direction.

And in his shock, like an idiot, he had forgotten to duck back into cover.

Yellow eyes locked onto him, teeth twisted into a furious smile.

“Bring him to me!”

Three of the men rushed him. Looking closer, he would see that two of them had yellow eyes under their hoods too. And they were fast! They were already almost to the tree line.

There was a snarl, then Cirrus was there, blade flashing. One of the men dropped, the other two the ones with yellow eyes dodged. They eyed the new enemy with curiosity, sizing him up.

He didn’t give them a chance to act. There was a burst of flame. Both of them threw up defenses. Cirrus darted through the fire, swinging his knife.

The man with the bow aimed for the dragon, but Sorren was quicker. He dropped to the ground, gurgling around the arrow through his throat.

The cat man and the last soldier, turned for the horses, dragging the girl with them.

She cursed at them this time, digging her feet in and trying to yank her arm free.

Sorren aimed again.

The cat creature yowled, releasing his grip as two arrows impaled his forearm.

“Run!” Sorren yelled, already lining up the killing shot.

“Sorren, move!”

Cirrus’s warning came too late. Something slammed into him. He lost his footing and rolled down the hill, towards the fight. His bow landed a few feet away.

Recovering quickly, he scrambled for his bow. A booted foot came down on his hand, the other on his bow. Yanking his hand free, he rolled to his feet, stepping back from the cat person how had been fighting Cirrus two seconds ago.

His hood had fallen, revealing a more human shaped face, with spotted patterning to the skin and the same yellow eyes.

“That was rude.”

“So is kidnap and murder.”

The cat grinned. “Sassy aren’t you, for a backwoods pest.”

Sorren was silent.

“What? Nothing to say?”

“Why speak to a dead man?”

“Wha…?” the cat had two seconds to be confused. Then Cirrus’s knife was embedded in his chest.

Before the body had finished falling, Sorren had his bow, arrow already aimed at the last two soldiers. Cirrus was ready next to him, eyes fixed on the larger, more cat-like man.

To Sorren’s frustration, the girl hung limply by one arm, still in the cat’s grip.

“What now?” the leader asked. “We could stand here at an impasse, or you could stand down and we’ll let you leave, pretend nothing happened. All we want is the girl.”

Sorren didn’t believe him for a second. Neither did Cirrus by the sound of his growl. His eyes flashed red, catching the big cat’s attention. Furred lips curled into a smile.

“Interesting eyes you’ve got there. I think my queen would be interested in meeting you. Her last… guest such as you wasn’t able to answer all her questions.”

Cirrus went pale, eyes fully crimson.

Before any of them could react though, the girl moved.

She twisted, plunging a dagger into the cat-man’s throat. He jerked back, but it was too late. Shocked, he dropped her and stepped back.

His companion snarled and leapt towards the girl, only to be taken out by an arrow and well thrown knife.

As the last of the enemy dropped to his knees, the girl stepped forward. She grabbed his hair, pulling his head back until he made eye contact with her.

“That is for Orin,” she said. “May you be cursed to the deepest layers of hell for the part you played in destroying my kingdom.”

“Not so much your kingdom anymore, is it, princess?” He smirked, then coughed. Blood flecked his lips. “It belongs to Lilianna now, not your pathetic, pacifist family.” More coughs, more blood.

She tightened her grip, pulling him close.

“For now. But I will reclaim what she stole, and I will not stop fighting until I do.”

Pulling her dagger free, she dropped him to the ground. Only two shuddering breaths later he was gone. She turned to Cirrus and Sorren warily.

They watched her with twin looks of shock, glancing between her and the fallen cat.

The silence stretched on. Until she finally caved.

“What?!”

“That was impressive… Princess.” The silver haired boy eyed her knowingly. He seemed familiar somehow, but she couldn’t place it.

“Are you really a princess??” The one, dark hair and eyes, watched her with open curiosity.

“That’s what you want to know? Not why I killed him? Why were they chasing me? Nothing else?”

He shrugged. “I have a pretty good feel for people, and nothing about you says bad.”

She stared at him. “Huh….”

The dark haired man turned to the silver. “What now, Cirrus?”

“We need to take care of the bodies, so no one finds them.”

Bodies… Orin… Tears welled up in her eyes. He had been her mentor, her trainer, he was practically family. And he had been with her since her family had been….

A wave of dizziness hit her. She stumbled. Her dagger fell from numb fingers.

Oh no. That bastard must of hit her with a spell or powder or something!

Her legs gave out, and she fell.

Into strong arms.

“Princess?”

She looked up into concerned brown eyes, and opened her mouth. To tell him to put her down, or help, or tell him her name maybe? None of it left her mouth as the world went dark.

***

She woke with a start, bolting upright in bed. The warm blanket covering her pooled at her waist, exposing the clean shirt she wore.

She stared at it uncomprehendingly, then her surroundings.

The room was simple, a bed, a lit fireplace, a pair of chests across the room, and a rug in the middle. Her clothes, looking cleaner than she’d seen them in months were folded nicely on top of one of the chests.

Cautious, she slid one leg out from under the blanket, watching for any trace of movement.

Nothing. Slowly, she stood.

Pressure on her wrist and leg made her realize her wounds had been cared for, even older ones.

An image of warm, brown eyes, honest and clear, flashed across her mind, and she felt herself relax. She crossed the room and dressed, inspecting each of the bandages as she came across them.

When she was ready, she approached the single door.

She tried the latch, surprised when it opened, and peered out into a short hallway. There were voices to her left, and another door to her right. Daylight seeped in the cracks, and she knew that was her escape.

Even if the two young men had helped her, she couldn’t trust it. Too many people had betrayed her. And if they were genuine, she couldn’t risk them being caught. She quietly trotted to the door, praying to whatever god was listening that it wouldn’t squeak.

“You’re just going to leave?”

She let out a very undignified squeak, that she would deny until her dying day. Spinning around, she found the silver haired man from earlier, Cirrus, leaning against the wall. He watched her with lazy amusement.

“So what if I am?”

“That’s the thanks we get for dragging your royal ass to safety and patching you up?”

She stared at him, aghast at his bluntness, and then…. “Are you the one who undressed me??”

He gaped at her. “What?! No! That was Sorren’s mom and my sisters.” Then he sighed. “Whatever, the point is, you’re alone now, without gear, in the high mountains. Are you really going to just leave? Without a plan or anything? Where are you even going?”

She simply stared at him, unsure of the answer to any of his questions. And he was right. She was alone now, there was no Orin to guide and protect her. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over.

Cirrus’s blue eyes widened. “Don’t…!”

The door at the end of the hall opened, and Sorren stepped out.

“Oh good! You’re awake!” Then he frowned. “Are you crying?? Cirrus, what did you say?”

The other man spluttered, waving his arms around as he explained. Sorren shook his head, as if he didn’t quite believe him. It was ridiculous.

She let out a quiet laugh, wiping her tears away. She was the last princess of a country that needed her more than ever. There would be time for tears later.

“You’re right, I do not have a plan, and I should not have tried to just leave. Thank you, for taking care of me, I owe you my life.”

“You’re welcome, Princess.”

“Nastasha, my name is Nastasha. I prefer not to use my title until my country is free of the witch who currently controls it.”

“That is fair. I am Cirrus, and this is Sorren.”

“It is a pleasure to officially meet you both.”

There was an awkward silence.

“I should be going, can I possibly borrow, or purchase supplies? I don’t have much, but what I have is yours.”

“You never did say where you were going,” Cirrus snorted, crossing his arms.

Nastasha hesitated. “I am heading north, to the Tri-Country capital. My family had friends there, and I intend to ask them for help.”

“That’s a long journey to make on your own….”

Nastasha huffed, opening her mouth to argue her route was not so bad, but Sorren interrupted her.

“What Cirrus is trying to say, is we would like to accompany you.”

Nastasha stared in open shock. What??

“Even after knowing that I am a hunted royal princess? And trust me, the kijani are not the worst thing she could send after me. They were child’s play compared to Guardians.”

Sorren sighed, face sympathetic. “Cirrus has his own reasons for being involved, and I …well… my village got involved when we decided to help you. And yes, we knew who you were. So if you’ll accept the help…?”

Nastasha was quiet, contemplating. Finally, she sighed. She met each of their eyes. “If you are certain,” they both nodded. “Then I accept.”

“Great! Then let’s go!” Sorren smiled. He reached into another open doorway and pulled out full packs. He handed one to her and headed towards the door, following Cirrus. Still recovering from the shock, she trotted after them.

“How do you plan to travel? Can your village afford to lose the horses?”

Sorren laughed. “Horses? No, Princess, Cirrus had a better idea.”

“What…?”

“Just watch,” he said with a wink.

As she stared in confusion, the villagers cleared a space around the silver haired man. He glanced over his shoulder at the two of them and grinned. The blue of his eyes melted into a vibrant red.

Nastasha gasped. “No way….”

In a flash of white, Cirrus the man was gone, and in his place was a beautiful silver dragon. He preened under the attention, stretching like a cat, before sitting with his tail curled around his feet.

Sorren laughed again. “Well, Nastasha? Ready to go get your country back?”