Draka Chapter 311: Buried In The Gray (Patreon)

Behold Her attacked us somewhere just north of the ruined villages of Piter’s Clearing and Sweet Creek.

It was impossible to say if she’d somehow known that we’d be coming, or if she’d simply been in the area, perhaps hoping someone would fly over, perhaps for another reason entirely. The outcome was the same regardless. As we flew along, Mother high, me and Herald low, the treetops suddenly exploded into an ascending mass of ruby fury.

Herald, who was underneath me, saw her first. She screamed and jerked in abject terror, and by the time I’d looked down and saw what was coming, it was too late for me to do anything but screech out a warning and a plea for help, then roll to the side.

The destroying vapors of Behold Her’s breath missed us by a foot or two. Then as she passed, her slashing claws missed by inches but her wing snapped out and caught me in the neck. It hurt like hell; if I hadn’t had my Greater Fortitude Advancement, I would have fallen paralyzed from the sky.

Dazed from the blow, all I could think of was to hide. As Mother’s answering cry of rage sounded from high above, I didn’t just drop toward the trees—I drove hard with my wings, Herald screaming in my embrace in a way that I’d never heard before. Behold Her was a fantastic flyer, but I was no slouch myself. Strength and Grace carried me at irrational speed toward the ground, and by the time the ruby monster arrested her upward momentum and came after us, I was already screaming to Herald, “Prepare to Shift! Shift when I do!”

I aimed for a small break in the trees, flaring just before I reached it and backwinging only as I passed through. I ignored the pain of my wings hitting trunks and high branches, screaming, “Shift! Now, now, now!” as we approached the ground faster than I was comfortable with. I could only pray that she Shifted, and that it gave her some protection from the force of impact, because right before I hit the ground, I did.

Behold Her’s breath tore through us only moments later.

In the seconds that followed I barely heard the sounds of Mother and Behold Her doing battle in the air above. I was in no state to pay attention, too busy being convinced that Herald and I were both about to die horribly. For a long while I just huddled, paralyzed as I waited for the pain. But no matter how long I lay there… nothing. While the forest crumbled around me, I was untouched. I didn’t so much as feel it. There wasn’t even the unpleasant sensation I suffered when rain passed through me, and if it hadn’t been for the creaking and hissing of disintegrating trees, I might not even have noticed.

After an eternity I tried to look around, to search for Herald, but I was engulfed in darkness. My first thought was that somehow only my eyes had been affected, and without me noticing, but I quickly understood what must have happened. As the trees collapsed and withered to dust, the canopy above us had gone with them, letting the sun through. Shifted as I was and locked into shadowsight, I was thrown into impenetrable darkness by the morning light. To see anything, I’d have to either stop using my shadowsight or get back into the shade. And since I couldn’t Shift back, engulfed by the crimson mist as I knew I must be, all I could do was head in a straight line until finally, blessedly, I reached untouched trees and the shadows they cast.

Once I was back among the trees, where I had some level of sight again, I realized that Herald wasn't with me. I fought the rising panic, reminding myself that I’d dropped her some distance behind where I’d landed, and that she would have been as blind as I was once the sun broke through. There was no reason to assume that she would have escaped in the same direction as I did. Because she had escaped. She had. She must have.

I needed to find Herald, but I couldn’t see into the newly created clearing. I also needed to know if the attack was over, if we were safe now. Just because I couldn’t hear anything didn’t mean that Mother and Behold Her weren’t duking it out a mile above our heads. But to determine that I needed to actually be able to see in the light, which meant that I couldn’t be in my shadow form. So I put some more distance between myself and the black splotch that was Behold Her’s dusty, sterile wasteland; then I prayed that nothing horrible would happen when I Shifted back, held my metaphorical breath, and did it.

I didn’t disintegrate, or find myself back in the flesh with all my skin gone. That was a huge relief. It didn’t stop me from shaking, or my wing from burning with remembered pain, but my two internal companions did what they could to force me to focus on the positives.

“We lived!” said Instinct, smugly triumphant and focused on the here and now.

We have a way to evade Behold Her’s breath! Conscience pointed out. Imagine what you can do with that!

“Oh, yes!” Instinct added. “Consider it! She cannot use her most powerful weapon against us!”

They were right, and I was vindictive enough that pointing that out really helped. If I wanted to kill the bitch—and I very much did, especially now—that might prove to be the edge I needed. It would have been nice to know before she took my wing, but… well. No use grumbling over the past. The future just got a little brighter. Or perhaps darker would be more appropriate in my case.

But no matter how important of a discovery this was, I didn’t calm down or stop shaking. I had something more important to worry about than the future. First, I had to find Herald. She’d been out of her mind, and I’d dropped her. I’d had to, but I had no idea if she’d been present enough to Shift. And even assuming that she had—I had to assume that, because the alternative was unthinkable—the horrible idea that Herald’s shadow form might not protect her the way mine had tried to sink its claws into me. It worked slightly differently, after all. She was more solid. She could touch things. She could even carry things with her. What was to say that didn’t make all the difference? Mercies, what if she'd Shifted back once she hit the ground? What if—

For just a few seconds I looked into the waste. The crimson mist reduced visibility, but I could just barely see the far edge and the trees beyond. The whole stretch, more than a hundred feet long and half as wide, was just… dust. Clouds and piles of it, from edge to edge. If there were any bones in there, I couldn’t see them—they would have been buried in the gray.

The thought made me want to be sick. All I could do in response was to deny the very possibility and start searching.

By the time I’d done almost a full circuit of the clearing the fear was beginning to crest again. It was a kind of fear that I couldn't remember feeling for a long time, like nothing was quite real. I felt floaty—like my feet barely touched the ground as I tore through the forest, frantic and unsteady, searching every shadow and calling Herald’s name over and over. I couldn’t smell her, but I told myself that was fine; she had no scent while she was Shifted. I had to rely on my eyes. And that would have been the easiest way to find her if I could have searched for her radiant form with my shadowsight, but I couldn't. Even among the trees there was too much sun, and in shadowsight the light falling between the trees created a mad landscape of black curtains that made searching impossible. So I had to use my regular sight, searching for a shadow among shadows.

I nearly missed her. I was halfway through my second lap when I stumbled upon a darker patch in the shade of a great tree whose shape and the ribbons of white bark peeling off it reminded me of a white gum. My eyes passed over her at first, but something about the shape of that patch tugged at my subconscious and convinced me to blink over to shadowsight for a moment. And there she was. She was curled up on her side staring blankly straight ahead, but as far as I could tell she was whole, and I could breathe properly for the first time since Behold Her attacked.

She didn’t even react when I approached. I couldn’t blame her. Even with the enormous rush of relief and joy at finding her I was still trembling faintly, barely able to believe that we were alive. Behold Her’s breath had caught us perfectly. It had destroyed everything around us, and by all rights we should have been dry bones buried in the dust. If she needed more time to process that, I’d give it to her.

Leaning down, I gently told her, “Stay here, yeah? Take your time. I’m going to have a look and see what’s happening.”

If she heard, she didn’t show it. And for all that it chilled my blood to see her so unresponsive, for all that I hated to leave her, I really did need to know what was going on. So, with another worried look Herald’s way, I picked a nearby tree that looked like it might carry my weight and got to climbing.

Then I quickly fell back to the ground as my newly enhanced claws tore the bark and underlying wood to shreds; they were simply too sharp to carry my weight. Fine. That was rather sad, since I’d once quite enjoyed climbing trees, but I had another way. Shifting, I snaked my way up the tree half-blind, stretching and contracting to gain height until I reached the top. There I Shifted back. I was ready to take off in case the branches broke under my weight, but they only creaked ominously.

When I scanned the sky, from the mountains to the sea and from the northern horizon to the southern, there was no sign of either Mother nor Behold Her. I could only assume that Behold Her had fled, and that Mother had gone after her.

“Let me take over for a while,” Instinct suggested. “She can sense us more clearly when I am in control.”

That’s not a bad idea, Conscience agreed. She must be out of her mind with worry.

I was tempted to object that if she was worried, shouldn’t she be here looking for us? But Mother was, first and foremost, a dragon, and overwhelming rage was part of our theme. Behold Her had tried to kill us. Again. Could I believe that Mother’s reaction would be to eviscerate and incinerate first, and search for survivors second? Yeah. I could very easily believe that.

All right, I said. Go on. Just go look after Herald.

“What else would you imagine I might do?” Instinct grumbled, taking over as I rescinded control.

Herald was still where we’d left her and still in her shadow form, though she’d moved a little. She was sitting up now, watching us as we descended. I took that as a good sign.

Instinct walked the few dozen yards to her side, then lied down, watching her expectantly. When Herald didn’t do anything for almost a minute, she finally said, “Well? Are you recovered?”

It took several long, empty seconds before she Shifted back, and another while before she spoke. And when she did, it made my heart clench.

“I hate this,” she whispered. “I absolutely hate this.”

“What is it you hate?” Instinct replied cooly. “Not us, I assume. You said—”

“I hate—” Herald interrupted her, stumbling on her words as they poured out in a near-manic torrent. “The fear! I hate the fear! I’ve never been so afraid as I was just now. I thought—no, I was absolutely sure that I was going to die. I’ve seen what even light contact with that awful creature’s breath can do to you, a dragon, and I— Mercies, I expected my flesh to start peeling off my bones! I thought I was dead! I was praying for the end to come quickly, instead of—”

Her voice broke. It wasn’t a sob, exactly, more like her throat had just stopped working. She tried to take a deep breath, but struggled, and when she let it out, it came out ragged. The next one was no better.

Comfort her! I demanded. So help me, I’ll force you out if you don’t!

“How?” Instinct replied. Not snarky or anything, she was genuinely asking.

You know how! You’ve seen me do it a thousand times. She needs to feel safe!

Instinct didn’t reply, but she understood. With slightly unfamiliar motions she got up halfway, shuffling over so that she could curl around Herald and the tree behind her. Then she turned her wing into a canopy, enclosing our little sister entirely.

It only took a moment for Herald to fall against us. She wasn’t crying—she was beyond that, somehow—but it took a long time for her breathing to even out. Once we could hear that she’d calmed down somewhat, Instinct tucked her head under her wing.

“Better?” she asked.

“Yes.” Herald was still a little breathless, but nothing like before. “Thank you.” She paused before continuing, “It was never like this, you know… before.”

“You did not fear dying?”

“I never truly thought I might. Not since… well, I am not sure where the line is. All I can remember is having this absolute faith that no matter how bad things were, you would protect me. Us. Anything we could not handle on our own, you would. I— I just cannot feel that anymore. I fully expected to die, and all I could do was crawl blindly, hoping it would not hurt too much or for too long, and I hate it!”

It was as though I could hear the wheels turning in Instinct’s mind. And perhaps I could, after a sense; we three could feel each other’s emotions when they were strong enough, after all, and sometimes we thought more loudly than we intended. Thus I was prepared to stop her when she asked, “Do you wish me to—”

Herald beat me to it.

“Do not ask me that,” she said quickly, lurching forward to physically clamp our mouth shut—which was completely symbolic, considering the difference in strength between us, but it worked. Instinct stopped mid-sentence. “I know which one I am speaking to,” Herald continued. “I am not surprised that you are more willing to take me back than Draka is. But I promised her to take time to think about it, and now… now is not the time for a question like that.”

Instinct just looked at her, not even attempting to open our mouth. And since she didn’t insist, I saw no reason to berate her for what she’d just tried to do. For one, I doubted it would do any good; for another, she’d get plenty of that from Conscience soon enough.

When Instinct made no attempt to argue, Herald released our snout and sat back. And when Instinct did speak, it was to grumble, “I am Draka too. You if anyone should know that.”

“Oh.” Herald looked momentarily embarrassed. Then she put her hand back on our snout; not to stop us speaking, but affectionately. “Yes. Of course I know that. I am sorry. It just gets difficult to speak about you sometimes.”

“Only Mother gets it right,” Instinct muttered, carefully, so as to not dislodge Herald’s hand. Then she snorted softly. “And even then she has trouble seeing the others as Draka.”

“See?” Herald asked, smiling softly despite everything she’d just been through. “If even she has trouble, what chance do I have?”

Instinct huffed. “Do not pretend to be less clever than you are,” she scolded softly. “I am sure you can find a way to remember my name. But I will forgive you, for now, and if you must, you may use Instinct. Just do not speak of Draka as though she is not me.”

“I will try,” Herald promised.

“Are you well enough to stand?” Instinct asked, apparently mollified. “Mother can find us easily, and I do not like to stay in one place like this, in case Behold Her returns. We may as well continue south on foot for a time.” She paused, then added, “With the cover of the trees, I could carry you.”

“We will not get far before Embers is likely to be back,” Herald objected, though she got to her feet.

“Just get on!”

Herald laughed softly at that, and I couldn’t blame her. The annoyance in Instinct’s voice had been so obviously false that it was impossible not to see what was going on. She wanted Herald to ride her. And really, no wonder. Our sister had always been a comfortable weight, and where could she possibly be safer than on our back?

Herald only hesitated for a moment before vaulting up, taking a seat on our shoulders with her legs to either side of our neck. “Well, that worked as well as ever!” she declared. “I have been wondering.”

“We may as well try the rest, then,” Instinct said. Then she shook, rather violently.

Herald gave off a surprised shout which quickly turned to giggling. “All right, all right!” she said. “I am secure! You can stop testing me!”

“Hrrrm,” Instinct replied, sounding incredibly pleased with herself. “Does that mean that you feel safe again?”

“Did you plan that?!” Herald asked in mock outrage. Then she fell forward to lie along our neck, arms wrapping tight as she said, “If you must know, I do feel better. Thank you.”

Thanks. That’s… you did good, was all I could think to say. And since those words in themselves were entirely inadequate, I accompanied them with a wave of gratitude. Because despite her—possibly innocent—attempt to get Herald to ask to be enthralled again, Instinct had not only actually comforted our sister, but this was probably the most genuinely affectionate Herald had been since the day I removed my spark from her. And while I’d known that I’d missed that, I hadn’t realized just how much.

I wasn’t sure how Mother would feel about Herald riding on our back; she’d said she might consider it once we were away from Malyon and the other dragons, but who knew if she included Behold Her in her considerations anymore. If she did, we really weren’t in any position to defy her wishes. And so, while the sooner we got to Karakan, the better, I hoped that she’d take her time. I wanted to enjoy the feeling of Herald’s embrace for a little longer.