Bloodred's Tale

her teeth worn smooth and small. Crusted blood coated her scales and dust and grime covered everything. It was dark, the darkest dark imaginable. She didn’t know how long she had been down there, desperately clawing her way to the surface. She wasn’t even sure she was going the right way. Gravity fell different down here.

It was a tale told in flashes- the dryad she cursed constantly, the Arcanist welcoming her, the golden ichor dripping from His throat when the Plaguebringer struck Him down, Their claws deep in each other’s throats. They both died, side by side in the earth that now lay still with no Earthshaker to reshape it.

The mountain crumbled in mourning, rain falling thick like tears. Bloodred didn’t have time to run, stock still from shock. The Deities could only be killed by other Deities. She knew tensions had been running high but this was all out war and no one knew which still lived. Rumor had it, having slaughtered the Shadowbinder, but it was only rumor.

She wondered if she would see Her, glowing like the radient sun even in the realm beneath the earth. She hoped not. She’d rather find the surface, and the Lightweaver had to be as deep down as was possible in order to escape the wrath of the remaining Eleven.

Her claws struck rock and the feeling of stale magic hummed through them. This was how magic felt when its creator had been laid to waste: empty and purposeless, slowly degrading as it struggled to maintain its original use. Her heart beating out of her chest, she dug faster and faster, the rubble stinging as it smacked against her wounds and her thin, starving frame.

A cool rush of fresh air rewarded her efforts. Her claws were bleeding, she’d hit the quick. The sharp pain hardly mattered, new oxygen meant the surface was close at hand. She broke through the rock and into a naturally formed chamber. A light shone faintly in one end.

She followed it hungrily, as if hypnotized.

The sickly sweet scent of rancid meat clogged her nostrils as she drew closer. She could see something that looked like the outside world ahead.

When she finally reached it, she fell wearily to her feet. The cave’s mouth was here, yes, and she could see the world, but it didn’t register in her mind. Shining even in death was the Lightweaver. Bloodred knelt to the ground and said a prayer for peace in death out of respect.

It was then that she saw what was next to Her- an inky black form that seemed to suck all the light into itself and destroying it. The Shadowbinder.

At the mouth of the cave was a circle, and every single member of the Eleven was here, heads pressed together in the center. Bloodred collapsed against her beloved Arcanist, weeping the tears she had not been able to weep before.

She slept.

—

When she awoke, shadows fell across the land and her belly ached. On shaky legs, she wobbled her way outside. Her mouth contorted into a scream but no sound came out when she saw what was there to greet her.

Even at night, she could see the massive gouges in the earth, the dried ichor no one had bothered to clean up. Shreds from the bodies of the Deities littered the ground. Nothing grew there, nothing at all. The sky looked angry, clouds racing across the horizon. The ocean was roiling and writhing. The entire land seemed inhospitable to dragon life.

To any life.

Corpses of animals were strewn across the area just past where the battle had taken place. She ate her fill, ignoring the slimy feel of partially decomposition as it slid down her throat. She dipped her head down and lapped up water from puddles, blood mixing them into a putrid shade.

Everything was at once familiar and deeply wrong. She had spent years serving the Arcanist in these lands, but it was now twisted, like a mad dragon’s idea of it. Hopefully the rest of the world had suffered less.

With nowhere else to go, she set off for the sight of the clan she had left all those years ago.

She thought of FrozenSkies, her mate. She thought of her love for him, and how it faded when he began paying more attention to that dryad than to him. In her rage, she’d disappeared into the night, leaving behind a note that only said “the Arcanist -Bloodred” assuming they’d understand.

She must have been one presumed dead. The only reason dragons who didn’t serve their Deities survived was because they were not deemed important enough to kill.

Still, she was sure the horrific landscape had claimed more than a few lives. She didn’t know if she wanted FroenSkies to be one of them or not.

—

She reached the old clan territory in three days, and it took another to find the heart of the clan. Everything was destroyed, caves worn to dust, trees uprooted, a few corpses of dragons burned beyond recognition decomposing in a pile in the center.

Carefully, she picked her way to where she had once resided with her mate. A note lay torn on the floor, stained with blood.

“Bloodred- we’ve gone to ice territory to survive. We hope you are alive. Find us.”

There was no signature, but FrozenSkies had a distinctive style of handwriting she recognized immediately. She had to admit, she was pleased that he had left that note, a hint that he had missed her and cared for her.

She slept curled up around it the whole night and dreamt of the good times with him.

—

The Starfall Isles were not far from the Southern Icefield, but the water she had to traverse to get there was so treacherous she wasn’t sure if she could make it in one piece.

The risks were astronomical but was was her desire to see what had become of the dragons she’d once considered family.

She plunged in.

—

The wind tore at her body as she stumbled across the blinding white. She couldn’t see more than a few inches in any direction. She was exhausted, ice forming heavy on her wet skin.

A blur of blue danced across her vision but she thought she was imagining it. That is, until a sing song voice whispered in her ear. “Is the little faerie lost?”

It was a dragon, dressed oddly, like a rumpled old witch. Despite the cold she was not dressed warmly. “Here, bloody red! I have a potion for that! Drink up!”

She tossed a bottle at her. Bloodred grabbed it and read the label. “For growing an extra tail?” she stared at the strange dragon.

It giggled. “Oh yes! You would be so dashing, two tails! I hope they wouldn’t fight!”

She threw it back. “I’m not drinking that, whatever your name is. Take me to your clan.”

The dragon giggled. “Pretty pixie! I am wacky, wacky, Wacky! Come with me, blue-and-red!”

It was clear that the last iteration of ‘wacky’ was meant to signify her name. It fit. Bloodred had no choice but to follow the weird witch who knew her name- well, sort of knew her name.

—

“Looksie here! I caught a little brownie-faerie-pixie-imp! She is a magical thing I am sure of it!” Wacky said everything with excitement, crowing her words loudly when they entered the camp.

It looked so much like her first home that Bloodred had to blink back tears. She had found them. She had found him.

“Ice and air! Come out come out wherever you’re hiding, meet my jailbird pet!”

A fluffy blue tundra poked his head out of a tower, a dainty sky dancer close behind. They moved together so easily, as if they’d been in love for years. The tundra slowed to a stop in front of Wacky, greeting her easily. “What do we have here?”

He turned to follow Wacky’s gaze and his face broke out into a warm smile. “Bloodred?”

The skydancer shrank back, making herself small and nonthreatening. The tundra inhaled and continued. “I apologize, you must not recognize me like this. I have long awaited your return. I am glad to see you again.”

The realization hit her like she’d been thrown to the ground full force by all of the Eleven. FrozenSkies had taken another mate, and they looked happier than he had ever been with her.

At least the dryad was nowhere in site. Maybe the beast had bitten it. She hoped so.

“FrozenSkies. Already moved on, I see.” her cruel smirk caused the skydancer to shrink even further back. She was glad it was afraid of her.

His cheeks colored and he looked at the ground. “You left in the night without saying goodbye. I didn’t know you’d come back or ever want to be with me again. I am so sorry if I hurt you, but it was not intentional.”

Bloodred laughed and turned her back, but not fast enough to avoid seeing the skydancer murmur words of comfort into her mate’s ear.

—

A black and white dragon peered out from the shadows, his tail wrapping around Bloodred’s hind legs as she passed by. “Come with me.”

She followed.

—

He turned his hard eyes to her. “I am Shah. You were his first mate.” It was not a question. She nodded.

“He should have stuck with you. His new mate is appalling. Calls herself Nameless.”

She was glad she was not the only one who loathed the green and brown dragon, all graceful and sweet. It had to be an act.

He continued. “She is no dragon, Bloodred. Merely a cruel beast turned into one. Yes, she is the dryad he has cared for since before you left. Blame Wacky for that one.”

He spit the words like poison. “Stick with me and together we can take them down. The beast clans cannot be redeemed. They must be wiped out like the plague they are.”

She nodded. “Tell me what I need to do.”

—

Her body changed from starvation thin to lean and musclebound, new scars rippling across her skin. Shah had trained her for many months, hammering her into a living weapon. They spent nights discussing strategy, their days on the fringes of the clan.

Someday, she would get her vengeance.

First, Nameless, while FrozenSkies watched.

Then, him.