The Dracones

Several days later I am in a city named Maycrest. There is a festival going about. People stumble around either drunk, or just getting through the crowd. Today I’m dressed in a tight-fitting dress with a wooden mask placed over my face. The mask is a little loose, as it is one of Ivan’s old ones. I have to pin it in place with several hairpins to keep it secure. A paste covers my hands and arms, giving the appearance of warts. People tend to avoid me; in fear of whatever perceived disease I have spreading to them.

A horn blows, signaling the beginning of the Spring Festival. My hand brushes my belt as I walk through the crowds, trying to get sight of Ivan; and maybe do a little eavesdropping. It isn’t long before there is a clear path, and I see my desired goal. Little kids dance around, trying to see past the adults. I push past them and make it to the front of the line. Across from me is Ivan. He’s wearing a wolf’s mask.

The man next to me is wearing a coyote mask. He begins talking to his companion. “There is talk of the Wolves tonight.” My back tightens and my interest perks. The Trix may be vultures, but they’re the people you go to for information.

“When aren’t there these days?” His companion sighs. “Trixie is still upset about their involvement in the near-death of Isenberg.”

“She’s just glad they didn’t kill him. She’s more interested in the man that found him on the road.”

The companion chuckles, “Someone found him? What was their interest with him?”

“According to Isenberg, he wanted to know about his shooter. Isenberg didn’t know since the arrow came out of nowhere. The trail doesn’t stop there, however. According to Prince Derrick’s cook, the man tracked Derrick and Princess Mytheena down. He wanted to know about the shooter. Derrick told him of a hand of Ivan’s that shot Isenberg. He said the hand was female, which surprised the man. The man asked for her name, to which Derrick replied that the name she had given was Kit.”Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Do you know why this Kit is of interest to this man? Or who she is?”

The Coyote shakes his head. “No. Ivan is said to be here today, but we haven’t found him. No one knows why he is in Maycrest, but Trixie believes it’s nothing we want to be involved in.”

Just then trumpets shout, calling silence to the crowd. A guitar strums as a mandolin begins to play. Little children throw blue-covered petals on the ground as they skip and giggle. The guards march behind a tall man with graying hair. His entire face is shallow. This man is going on eighty-three, which is outstanding. He’s finally decided to relinquish his crown, to the worst man possible.

His oldest son, Mandel, is a horrible human being. He molests little children and kills them for fun. The prisoners receive harsh rations and are treated to daily torture of stretching and penetration with heated metal. Even for stealing a piece of bread, this is their punishment. He also plans on raising taxes and extending work hours. My job is to stop this.

I look straight at Ivan and brush my shoulder. A slight nod is what I get as I pretend to let a little kid ahead of me. Slowly I make my way to the back of the crowd, drawing no attention. Eventually, I slip into the little crowded shop. I go straight to the back corner of the shop where books are stacked higher than my head. I pull out my bow and quiver from behind a painting of a horse on a hill that rests against a wall.

I go up the stairs that lead to their storage area. The KnickKnack shop owners are on their porch watching girls twirl ribbons and sing a song in honor of this historic occasion.

The stars shine high

With honor in our minds

And a laugh in our smile

To award the Noble

That protects our kin

In the greatest interest of his own

Now his kingdom shall not fall

For today it is given on this holy ground

To the King’s kin

The greatest of them all

The music ends as the girls scream and faint, falling to the floor of the stage while one remains standing. I roll my eyes. Dramatics are distracting and deadly.

I pull the arrow as King Tru steps forward. He clears his dusty throat, “My subjects and my family, the time has come for our wonderful Spring Festival. This festival is going to be burned into our minds for centuries to come. For on this day, I have decided to step down and relinquish my hold as king to my youngest child, Akairie.”

I nearly release my hold on the bow as I’m taken off guard. “What?” I ask out loud as his daughter walks up to the stage in complete surprise. Her blonde hair catches sunlight while the flowers that have been woven into her hair blow in protest of the pushing wind.

Her brother’s face begins to turn red. His ebony hair looks like death as an enraged scream echoes through the air. “What!” Mandel screams at his father. “She is only twenty. Not even of full royal blood. You cannot do this father. You chose me. You decided it to be me. Why is it not me?” He screams.

His father remains calm, but his ears are red in anger. “She is young but knows what is best, my son. I have been informed of the way you treat my citizens and my prisoners. Your demonic antics are not of my raising or teachings, therefore, the crown goes to your sister.”

Mandel loses his temper at that point. He reaches for the hunting knife on his belt and races toward his sister. It is at that point that I release my hold on the arrow. Mandel falls to the ground and screams in pain. My arrow has hit its mark. The head lies buried deep within his calf; a note is attached to the arrow. The guards finally react as screams ricochet through the crowd.

The head guard reaches for the note. “My Lord, it is a note from the Wolves.” Again, the crowd gasps as the king goes white.

Akairie walks forward and takes the note as another soldier takes Mandel’s knife. She reads it, facing her father. “′My Lord, King of Maycrest, we honor you with the utmost respect. We serve and follow you and our other Lords. We watch and protect who we can when we can; and because of this, we are forced to dutifully report the inner workings of your eldest, Mandel. He is wicked my Liege. Blood is in his heart. He values money more than life. He believes your city is scum and plans to sell it to the highest bidder once his plans are complete. He plans to order your death, King Tru. Check his belt. You’ll find the order.′”

She pales at this part and licks her lips. “‘You’ll also find the orders for your wife, sons, and daughters as well. If you check his room, you’ll find his plans for a cleansing. To kill all who are weakened physically, and those who are scarred emotionally and physically. This is why we cannot allow Mandel to be inducted into history as our King. We hope that you understand why we have to do this. We will continually serve and protect The District and its people. With undying loyalty, the Wolves.’”

Really Mylith? That’s what you wrote? I shift nervously as King Tru orders for his son to be searched. The orders are clear and tucked neatly into his belt.

Tru pales as his hands shake. He looks at his son. “Treasonous!” He yells at him. “Take him to the dungeons. He is to be executed. Akairie will be crowned queen after her brother’s execution.” He spits on his son’s cheek. “You are not of my blood, but of a demon. I should have known that when I found your dog with a knife in its head.” With that said Tru walks off the stage, leaving all in a stunned state. What did I just hear?

I hear a slight boot scuff behind me, pulling my distracted mind back into my body. A hand touches my shoulder. I grab it and twist his hand as I drop my bow. I use my other hand to grab the blue-tipped knife from my belt. As I spin us, I scratch his exposed cheek a little deeply. Before he can get back to his senses, I swipe his feet out from under him, letting go of his hand as he falls.

I look down to see a defiant man. His face is hard as his taunt body quakes while he tries to lift himself. Brimstone eyes glare at me in raw anger as his pale pink lips try to find words. He’s about six feet but appears taller than what he actually is.

“Who-who are you?” A smoky voice asks through his finally functioning lips.

“Shh,” I whisper as I take a knee. “You shouldn’t fight it. It’s a sleeping draft. You’ll wake in an hour.” I take the knife and cut his hand, giving the draft more aide. He shouldn’t be able to talk.

He grimaces. “Who are you?” His voice is strong, making me look directly at his face. How is he still awake?

“Who are you?” I volley back. I’ll just stay here until he’s out. That way I’ll be sure he isn’t some weird creature that will chase after me.

“Show me your face.”

I laugh. “You must be mad if you think that is going to happen. Now I ask; who are you?”

He grimaces, “Give-give me your hand.”

I put two fingers on his neck. His pulse is weakening, but it is strong. Too strong. It’s like drums are beating underneath my fingers. I am curious as to why he’s asking these things. Reluctantly, I remove some of the paste and hand my hand to him. He grasps it surprisingly firmly and takes it to his face, as if to see what value it holds. His hand starts growing hot around my fingers then quick as a flash he licks the back of my hand.

Pain erupts from my hand, making me yank my hand back as a sharp hiss escapes my mouth. “What the hell are you?” I snap at him as I look at my pale hand. A red eye is shining back at me, but just as the saliva dries it fades away. “What was that?” I demand from him.

I look at him since he remains silent. His eyes are wide as he looks at me. “Morda Mortha.”

“What?” I ask as I rub my faintly throbbing hand. I’m seriously confused and getting really angry. Who just licks someone?

He glares at me, “You!” His hand shoots up like a striking snake and knocks the mask off of my face. When the mask’s strap had broken, it ripped off a few pins that I had used to keep the slightly larger mask in place. When the pins tore from my hair, my hair cascaded down like a waterfall, framing my face. My eyes are wide as my heart picks up pace. What is going on?

His eyes widen as his body relaxes. “Kit,” he sighs while his head falls back and his eyes roll back. What just happened?