Sins of the Father Part Two - Chapter Nineteen (Patreon)

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Chapter Nineteen

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Valyrym paced upon the hard-packed earthen lane. Anxiety’s cold hands gripped his belly, twisting it into icy knots. Valar and Krek had been gone for far too long, he was sure of it. Any moment now, he was going to charge into that damned city, and rescue his son and the damn bird. He lashed his tail, scything down a stand of spiny thistles.

“Easy, Val.” Alia leaned against a sturdy wooden fence post nearby. She’d comforted him earlier, but now she sought to give him room to pace, to expend his nervous energy. “They’re both fine. They’ll be back any moment.”

Valyrym slowly inhaled, glancing at his beloved. The afternoon sun brought a beautiful radiance to her olive-bronze skin, shone across her dark hair, glittered in her green eyes. Even after countless weeks of freedom, he still couldn’t get over how wonderful it was to finally see Alia, bathed in sunlight.

“I know, Alia.” The dragon forced a smile to his muzzle. “Realistically, anyway. Logically, I know they’re safe. I believe the bird. But, inside…” He pressed a paw to his chest, over his heart. “My heart won’t stop thinking about Valar, surrounded by Illandrans.” He shivered, hissing through grit teeth.

“Heart not think, Dragon.” Vatch sat atop a marker of stacked stones, near Alia. He tapped his head beneath a horn. “Brain think.”

Valyrym chuckled to himself, swiveling his ears towards the urd’thin. “Yes, Vatch, thank you for the clarification.”

Vatch tossed his flanged mace up into the air. “Dragon is welcome.” The mace spun upwards over his head before tumbling back down. Vatch caught it by the handle, and nearly lost his balance, wobbling atop the cairn.

“You’re going to crack your skull open, Vatch.”

The urd’thin only shrugged. “Vatch probably not do this. He just remember, back in Warren? Before Vatch go to street? There urd’thin who always carry hammer. Vatch often see him throw hammer up and catch! So when Vatch learn to fight with mace from Enric, he also learn to throw!”

The dragon tossed his head. “Just don’t escape me to scoop your brains back up if you spill them in the street.”

“Brains not spill! Is solid! Not liquid.” Vatch tossed his weapon up again. This time, it arced too far forward. He stretched his arm to try and catch it, only to topple off the marker. He dropped to the ground, stumbling, stones rolling across the earth behind him. His mace hit the hard-packed road, spraying clods of dirt. Vatch eventually caught his balance, scooping up his dangerous implement. “Vatch mean to do this.”

Alia laughed, mussing the thick, chocolate colored fur between the urd’thin’s ears ears. “Sure you did ,Vatch.”

Vatch batted her hand away. “No ruffle Vatch!”

Valyrym turned away, pacing up the street again. At least the afternoon was peaceful, for now. The fresh air was tinted by the scents of distant smoke, tilled earth, animals, and their manure. Pastures surrounded them, marked off by ancient green hedgerows, fences hewn of twisted willow, and walls of stacked gray stones slathered in crusty, yellowy lichens. Animal calls echoed all around him, as if the cows, sheep, and goats were all telling each other stories. Or perhaps, Valyrym thought, they were warning one another about the dragon in their midst. Not that they had anything to worry about. The last thing he intended to do was steal some farmer’s cow, delicious as it may be.

The old dragon turned his attention to the road beneath his paws. The compressed earth was solid and flat for the most part, but ruts and hoof prints in sunken areas spoke of muddier passage whenever it rained. Weeds and grasses sprouted here and there along its edges, and in isolated clumps elsewhere. It reminded Valyrym of the old roads that ran through rural Aran’alia, connecting towns and trade hubs. They were used frequently enough to keep them mostly clear of vegetation, yet too far from major settlements to bother paving with cobbled stones.

Valyrym prodded at deep rut, left by a heavy wagon wheel whenever it has last rained. “Not as impressive as my road was.” He flicked his tail. “But I’ve certainly seen thoroughfares less worth conquering.”

“Are you muttering anything of importance, Val?” Alia nudged a small stone with her boot.

The dragon snorted. “I was just thinking out loud. If I were a younger dragon, this wouldn’t be the worst road to conquer. Probably get plenty of travelers to tax, and collect tribute from. Not as many as my road, once provided, but I’m sure there are a few.”

Alia laughed, brushing hair out of her eyes. “I rather doubt the idea of a dragon controlling a road would be as easily accepted around here as it was back home. You’re right about the travelers, though.” She pointed. “You’re already holding up traffic.”

Valyrym looked down the street. In the distance, several colorfully painted travel wagons were stopped. One team of horses nervously pawed at the ground, while another few couldn’t seem to care less about the dragon standing in their way. Several humans stood around the wagons, watching him. One rested a hand upon the hilt of a sword. Another passed around a bottle of drink, as if settling in for a long wait. A pair of children perched atop one of the conveyances pointed at Valyrym, their distant laughter carried by the wind.

“So I am.” He grunted, lashing his tail. Their general lack of terror left his already battered pride bruised and aching. Still, it was further proof at least that the bird was probably right. Unless there was some hidden Illandran army regiment nearby, the townsfolk and their local guards were probably willing to let the dragons be, so long as Valyrym and his son offered them the same respect. Actually, he thought, that was an idea. “Do you think I should move, Alia? To respectfully allow their passage?”

Alia shrugged, glancing around. “I thought about it, but I’m not really sure where you’d go. You can’t really land anywhere else without terrifying someone’s livestock. The farmers might think you were trying to steal their animals.”

The dragon considered his options. He glanced at the sky. A few fluffy clouds drifted by overhead. In the far distance, wispier curls of white offered the possibly of rain in the future. Valyrym licked is nose, hoping it would rain. It had been far too long since he’d felt raindrops, splattering against his scales. So far on their journey, the gryphon had steered them clear of the few isolated rainstorms they had glimpsed. Perhaps if the coming weather front was large enough, Krek wouldn’t be able to avoid it this time. For now, Valyrym could only hope.

“I could fly overhead, perhaps.” Valyrym swirled a single digit in the air. “Circle a while.”

Alia scrunched her face. “I’m not sure circling above them like a hungry vulture would send the right message.”

Valyrym splayed his ears, tilting his head. “Perhaps not. But maybe that’s the better idea, right there. A message. We could just…” He waved his paw. “Send them a message.”

“You want to write them a letter?” Alia arched a brow, grinning. She mimed scribing in the air with a quill. “Dear local travelers. Sorry I’m in your way. I promise to move my scaly ass eventually. Signed, The Dread Sky.”

The old dragon chuckled. “Not exactly what I had in mind. I could just shout at them.”

Vatch looked up from his work re-stacking the stones. “Dragon think shout at nervous travelers good idea?”

Alia held her hands up. “Yeah, let’s not do that Val. I don’t think roaring at anyone is going to help.”

“I’m not going to roar.” Valyrym pinned back his spines. “Shouting and roaring are two very different things. A roar is a challenge, a threat, a sound of primal fury. Shouting is just…” Valyrym waggled a forepaw. “Talking, but louder. So I shall talk loudly at them, and inform them they may safely pass.”

“Before you do that,” Alia said, lifting her hand towards his head. “Let’s show them you’re just a big scaly baby.”

Valyrym lowered his face towards her, narrowing his eyes. He flared up his spines. “I am not a big scaly baby!”

Alia deftly snatched the dragon’s ear. “No, but if they think you are, it’ll help put them at ease if they have to walk past you.” She tugged his ear, grinning. “Come on, Mister Dragon, do as your handler says.”

Valyrym growled, lashing his tail. “Oh, I’ll give you something to handle, alright.”

“Not in public, you won’t.” Alia laughed, taking a step backwards, still holding his ear. “Come along, Val.”

“Vatch!” Valyrym padded after Alia, his head cocked at an odd angle. “Fetch your stick, defend my honor at once!”

Vatch picked up his mace, thumping it against his palm. “No worry, Dragon! Chief First Dragon Tamer Vatch on his way!” He trotted up to Alia, then ever so slowly and gently, poked her hip with his weapon. “Excuse, Miss. You have license for handle dragon?”

Alia smiled down at the urd’thin. “I certainly do, officer.”

“Okay.” Vatch turned away, resting his mace across his shoulder. “This all seem in order. You have good day.”

“Betrayal!” Valyrym thumped his tail against the ground, his spines tearing through the dry earth. “Betrayal, treachery, and duplicity! This shall not go unavenged!” He followed Alia off the road, and onto the grassy section near the fencing. She tugged his ear downwards, and Valyrym settled back onto his haunches, facing the road. When Alia released him, he glared at the urd’thin. “You just wait, you traitorous rodent! For when darkest of night falls, you shall face my furious, wrathful cuddling!”

Vatch pivoted around to shake his beloved stick at the dragon. “You no ruffle Vatch!”

“Oh, there shall be ruffling, Vatch.” Valyrym rubbed his ear. “Ruffling the likes of which you have scarcely fathomed!”

Alia rolled her eyes, then set her hand against his foreleg. “Sorry. Too hard on your ear?”

Valyrym shook his head. “No, it’s fine. And admittedly, a wise idea.” He glanced at the stalled travelers in the distance. A few more of them were now actively watching them after their little display. “Shall I address them now?”

“Yes.” Alia patted his shoulder. “Address them. Don’t shout at them.”

Valyrym lifted his head high. He took a breath, and then called out in a brassy voice, trying to maintain a balance between volume, and friendliness. “Greetings, travelers! I am sorry to impede you.” He swept a foreleg down the road. “You may now pass. I shall not hinder your travel any further.”

“That was actually pretty good, Val.”

“Thank you.” Valyrym offered her a playful bow, his tail tip twitching. “Hopefully they actually heed our offer.”

Down the street, the travelers gathered around the halted wagons gathered to confer with one another. There were gestures and pointed fingers, and the bottle of drink was passed around once more. A few paused the discussion to stare at the dragon for a few breaths. Valyrym did his best to look disinterested, idly gazing at a black and white woodpecker perched atop a nearby fencepost. Eventually, most of the humans clambered into their wagons. Some vanished inside them, others took up the drivers’ seats. A few sat atop, with arrows nocked in bows just in case. Valyrym did not think it a hostile gesture, just a precautionary one. In the same way, a few of the larger men in the caravan remained on foot, hands resting on the hilts of swords, and axes. Valyrym doubted the entire group together would be capable of felling a dragon, but he certainly did not fault them their attempts at defensive measures.

The first driver put the reins to his horses, and the wagon lurched forward. He kept a tight grip on the reins, but also kept the horses at a slow, steady pace. A few men in green and brown clothing walked alongside the wagon. A lone archer atop it stared at Valyrym, his arrow lowered but at the ready, just in case. A woman and several children peeked out from inside the wagon, watching from small windows. The next wagon soon moved forward as well. The third was slower to follow, as if its driver was waiting to see whether or not the first two made it safely past the dragon.

Valyrym watched them approach, trying to appear impassive. Yet all at once, his heart raced, and his pulse hammered. There were people approaching him. On a road. Once, long ago, he ruled over conquered roads, and people like this were but his subjects, passing by with a friendly greeting, or an offer of tribute. But now? Now he cowered at the roadside, like some beaten down hound. The nearer they drew, the more his forelegs shook. His wings trembled at his sides. Valyrym gnashed his teeth, cursing his own sudden nervousness.

Surely, he had no reason to be so awash in the icy waters of anxiety. And yet…

How long had it been since he’d seen people who were not his captors? Even his dearest Alia was first introduced to him as the latest in a long line of wardens, responsible for his captivity. True, Valyrym had glimpsed people as they fled the city, but that scarcely counted. And there was Chirp, at Wing’s Rest, but a gryphon was different than humans. All at once, Valyrym realized that discounting Alia and his friends, he had not truly been around people in a century and a half. Now, he found himself trembling before them, like some captive feral beast, used only to the voice and touch of his trainer, suddenly paraded before the masses.

“Alia, I…” Valyrym lowered his head, closing his eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this. I haven’t…” He licked his nose. “Seen people in the wild, in so very long.” The dragon opened his eyes to slits, gazing down at his own shaking forepaws. “I suppose I’m the one in the wild, now. I didn’t think it would be…” Valyrym closed his eyes again. “This difficult.”

“Easy now, Val.” Alia rubbed his shoulder in a circle. “You’ll be fine. You’ll get used to people, again. These are just travelers, passing through.”

“I know.” Valyrym took a slow breath, but kept his eyes closed.

In his head, Valyrym told himself Alia was right. These were not his enemies. They were not soldiers, come to drag him back to prison. They were just travelers, passing through, on their way to the city. They carried weapons not for conquest, but simply for defense. He was not their enemy, either. The dragon did not want them to fear him. He did not want them to fear dragons, at all. Valyrym reminded himself that while they might be Illandrans, they were just…civilians…

Illandrans.

Something cold and angry tightened inside Valyrym. Fresh anxiety trickled into his suddenly taut belly. It twisted inside him like some swiftly growing bramble, sinking poisoned thorns into guts. Travelers or not, these were Illandrans. Illandrans, who shattered his clan. Who stole his home. Who murdered his beloved. Who chained him to a slab of stone. Who put him in a hole beneath their city. For a century and a half, Illandrans had tormented him. Starved him. Laughed at him. Forgotten him. Until they dared set foot into his buried kingdom, to threaten his family anew. And once more, did the Dread Sky slay Illandrans.

Valyrym opened his eyes. Ever so slowly, he lifted his head, turning his gaze towards the approaching travelers. The dragon’s spines rose as the nearest man tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword. The closer he drew to Valyrym, the whiter his knuckles stood out against his skin. Before Valyrym could stop it, a low growl emanated from deep within his throat. The man swallowed, drawing a few inches of steel. Valyrym’s claws all slipped free. He bared a few fangs. The man stepped closer to the wagon, called for the driver to give the horses the whip. The driver did so, and the horses broke into swift trot, pulling the wagon past the dragon. The swordsman jogged alongside it, his eyes on the dragon all the while.

Valyrym blinked, and the Dread Sky peered through his eyes anew. Suddenly, all men were clad in plate, and chain, draped with familiar gray and blue tabards. “Illandrans,” Valyrym said, the word drawn out into a long, menacing snarl.

“Val?” Concern seeped into Alia’s voice. “Take a breath, Val. It’s alright.”

Atop the wagon, the Illandran archer lifted his bow. He glanced between Valyrym and Alia, as if trying to choose his target. The bright blue sky was gone, replaced with something bleak and gray. A biting wind nipped at Valyrym’s wings. From inside the wagon, Aran’alian prisoners of war reached through barred windows. They clawed at the air, struggling to breathe in the cramped confines. Some of them beckoned at the dragon, begging for his help. Valyrym rose to all fours, and the archer lifted his bow. The nearest guard pulled free his sword.

“Amaleen, stay behind me!” Valyrym hissed, stretching his wing as if to hide her from the archer’s vantage.  But the moment he spoke her name, he caught himself. A single snowflake drifted through his vision, fluttering through the air. “No, not Amaleen…” He squeezed his eyes shut, digging his claws into the earth. “I’m not there. They’re not soldiers.”

“It’s alright, Val.” Alia’s voice cut through the sudden haze in his mind. She moved in front of him, placing herself between the dragon and the nervous travelers. Alia put a hand on his chest, gently rubbing his scales. “Just breathe, Valyrym. It’s alright. They’re just people. They don’t mean anyone any harm. Everything is fine. I’m safe. We’re all safe.”

Valyrym clung to her words like a drowning rat in an icy, raging sea. Every crashing wave threatened to drag him deeper into the frigid waters of terrible memories that were suddenly all too real. But with Alia’s every word, every gentle touch, the images faded. When he opened his eyes anew, the sky was blue again. The soldiers were gone, replaced once more by simple travelers. Swords were not drawn, arrows not aimed. There were no prisoners of war, only curious children and nervous parents.

The lead man’s eyes shifted to Valyrym’s shaking forelegs, and unsheathed claws. Then they lifted to Alia, watching as she comforted him. He slowed a moment to speak to one of the other guards. Valyrym swiveled his ears towards them, listening.

“That dragon’s shaking like a beaten hound,” the guard said.

The other man leaned in to confer with the first. “And look at them scars. Someone’s put that beast to it, somethin’ fierce. Best give him the widest berth we can. Ain’t nothing more dangerous than a cornered and frightened beast.”

“Agreed.” The lead guard turned towards the wagon, waving for the dragon to pull onto the grass. “Give the dragon all the room you can!”

The driver led the horses onto the grassy embankment on the far side of the road. The wagon’s wheels bumped and bounced across the rutted ground, rolling by. As the wagon went ahead, the men escorting it remained behind, keeping an eye on the dragon. Soon, they gestured for the second carriage to follow the first, keeping themselves between Valyrym and the travelers hiding within the conveyances.

“I’m sorry.” Valyrym forced himself to speak, gazing down at the guards. Slowly, he withdrew his claws. His mouth was dry, and speech difficult, yet he forced himself to continue. Valyrym knew it was important for himself to find a way through this. “I did not mean to frighten you, for…” Valyrym swallowed, his ears drooping. “I mean you no harm. The last time I saw humans with wagons, they…” A shudder racked the old dragon. “Were chaining me to a stone slab, after they’d caught me. Please do not be afraid. I only wish to enjoy my freedom, now.”

Alia glanced up at him, patting his chest, then turned towards the men. “The dragon speaks true. It has been a long time since he’s known anything but cruelty. But I promise you, he’s harmless.”

Valyrym knew, deep in his heart, that was a lie. 

But he also knew it was important  that these people believe it.

The lead swordsman looked from the dragon to Alia and back again. Then, he slowly lifted his hands away from his sword, and held them up in peaceful display. “He’ll get no trouble from us, as long as he keeps his distance.”

“Thank you.” Valyrym bowed his head to the humans. “I wish you a pleasant journey.”

“You as well, dragon.” He glanced at Alia, then Vatch, a crooked smile on his lips, if only for a moment. “And to you, dragon-tamer, and dragon-tamers assistant.” He returned the dragon’s bow with an odd stiffness. Valyrym was not sure if the human was uncomfortable offering such a gesture to a dragon, or just unused to performing it in general.

When the third wagon finally rolled by, the guard and his comrade turned away, jogging after it without another word. For a little while, Valyrym watched the small caravan trundle down the road. They kept up their swift pace until they were well beyond the dragon’s reach. Eventually, they slowed enough for the men to catch up. They clambered upon to the wagons, and soon vanished inside.

Valyrym let out a sigh, feeling as if he’d been holding his breath for hours. His wings sagged, and his ears drooped. His forelegs gave out, and he slumped down onto his belly with a whimpering groan. “I’m sorry, Alia. I-”

“No.” Alia spun towards him, snatching his head in her hands. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Valyrym.” She hugged his head against her chest, holding him tight. “Nothing at all. If anything, I should have realized this wasn’t always going to be easy for you. It shames me now to think I hadn’t even considered how long it’s been since you’ve seen people simply…” She pressed her face to his muzzle. “Being people. It’s so simple a thing for the rest of us, but for you…” Alia grimaced, then kissed his nose. “You haven’t seen anyone but me and my friends, since…Gods.” She straightened, running a hand down her face. “I’m so sorry, Val. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider-”

“Oh, no you don’t.” Valyrym bumped her cheek with his muzzle. “If I’m not allowed to apologize, neither are you.”

Alia sniffed, hugging him again. “Very well, you old beast. I won’t belabor the point. Let’s just admit to ourselves that…” She stroked his jawline. “That this is going to be an ongoing process, for you. But you’ll get there, I promise. And by the time you get to meet your granddaughter? You’ll be strutting through that town like you own the damn place.”

“I would like that.” Valyrym curled a foreleg around her, returning her hug. “Until then, I fear I made need you to…” The dragon swallowed, his frills sagging. “Center me, when I start to lose myself. I’m sorry I called you by her name.”

“What part of no apologies don’t you understand?” Alia rubbed his ears, her smile radiant. The understanding that shimmered in her beautiful green eyes warmed Valyrym’s very lifeblood, easing the last of anxiety’s cruel chill lingering in his paws. “I know you’re…” She paused, her lips pursed as she sought the right word. “Drifting, now and then, Val. Ever since Armadine came for us. But I’m here for you. Whenever you drift away, on that darkened tide, I’ll be your beacon. I’ll bring you safely back to shore, whatever it takes.”

“Thank you, Alia.” Valyrym sat up, hugging her against his body. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Val.” Alia kissed his chest. “And you’ll get through this. I promise.”