The Dragon and the Fox

Kira was stunned.

Lies. They were all lies.

Everything she had ever been told about the Dragons, every prayer and offering, it was all pointless. The Dragons didn’t create the world. They didn’t keep it in balance, or regulate any of the elements. They never had.

Kira felt her anger rising as she comprehended this. Her mother had died because the Dragons didn’t bother to act. Her brother. Her sister. Her father.

And all the Dragons wanted was to continue their high and mighty façade.

Kira felt hot tears gather in her eyes. “How dare you!” she shouted to Deya, who jerked her head back in surprise. “How dare you lie to me! How dare you lie to Cyalia! My mother died. You hear me? She died, because you were too proud to admit that you were just lizards with wings and a few sparkly powers!”

“Kira,” Deya began. “I--”

“Don’t talk to me,” Kira said savagely. “You’ve done enough.”

Deya found Kira by the river, crying her already broken heart out. The Dragon sat down gently, wrapping her tail around her talons. Kira said nothing.

Finally, after a long silence, Deya spoke—in that gentle tone that Kira had loved so much. “You know, I always thought my father was a horrible Dragon, but I never realized that he was poisoning the minds of those living on Cyalia.”

“So you blame the lies on someone else?” Kira asked bitterly, her voice shaking.

“No,” Deya responded. “I’m trying to open up to you. Why can’t you see that?”

Kira said nothing, but her tail twitched slightly, and she huffed.

“My father is King Terxan, leader of the Light Dragons,” Deya continued. “He wasn’t always bad. He had a wife, Queen Arella. We were a happy family. I was his only dragonet, but he never cared—he used to say that I was all he wanted. Me and my mother.”

Kira didn’t know where this was going. Was she supposed to sympathize with this mental image of a happy family, something she no longer possessed? She decided to hold her tongue.

“But as I grew, I began to realize that everything was not as it seems. I had never noticed before, because Light Dragons are happy with whatever they’re given. They’re not known for complaining. But I started to see oddities within the kingdom—the way things were run, the way the other Dragons were treated. My father was withholding knowledge from them, so they never knew what was going on outside of the kingdom. We weren’t allowed to ever leave. The Dragonets were strangely disappearing, and every other year my father would send his guards to collect the Light Dragon’s eggs. You should have seen the mothers, Kira. They were wailing. Mourning. Crying for their baby dragonets that they would never get to see. No one knows what happens to those dragonets.

“When I saw it, I knew I had to put a stop to it. I started questioning my father’s rule. Telling him that what he was doing was wrong. He resented me for it, telling me that I was wrong and naive, and started shutting me out.

“Then, one day, my mother went missing. There was no trace of her, and everyone acted like she had never existed. But not my father—no, he acted smug. He knew exactly what had happened, but there was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, I accused him in front of the court. He had me banished, and told all the other Dragon kingdoms so that none of them would except me. I was ten eclipses old then. I have no idea how many years have passed; how much time I’ve spent wandering Cyalia.

“Until I met you, Kira. You reminded me of myself—mourning for loss, young and sad. Only you’re doing what I did not: trying to change what happened so the same things don’t happen again, to other victims. I was a coward, I admit that. But now I’m ready to change.”

Deya finally let out her breath, and some sort of energy filled the air. It left Kira feeling sad, but determined—magnifying the emotions she already had, except Deya had no anger.

“Deya, I’m--” Kira began, but Deya cut her off.

“No, Kira,” she said softly. “I deserved it.”

Kira sighed. She was resenting the fact that she may have made a grave mistake. She shouldn’t have blamed Deya for the mistakes of every Dragon, and she hated herself for it. Was there anything she could do right?

Deya was wrong. Kira was a coward. She had deserted her family, run from the fight when her pack needed her most. Sure, there may have been nothing she could have done, but that didn’t change the fact that she had run away.

There was silence between the two, until Kira realized that Deya was waiting on her to say something. “Oh, um...I forgive you, Deya,” Kira said grudgingly.

“Really?” Deya’s face lit up. She swept Kira in a hug, and Kira protested meekly. She didn’t really like hugs, unless she was crying and needed comfort. Other than that, they were pretty pointless.

“Um, yes...” Kira tried to awkwardly extract herself from the embrace. Finally, Deya let go, and Kira breathed a sigh of relief. Note to self: If you hug someone once, they think it's okay to hug you forever.

“Now come on, we left Ozzy and Gael behind.” Deya flicked her long tail and then began walking rapidly back to the fields.

Kira started after her, then remembered her wings. Why walk when she could fly?

She extended them, then flapped experimentally. Deya had told her that it usually takes weeks to learn how to fly, but the magic infused in Kira might speed up the process. As she flapped more rapidly, she found that she didn’t even need to think about it. The wings did their own thing, cupping the air underneath her just right. She flew up to Deya, who laughed and joined her in the air.

They met the two birds under a large tree, looking happy to see the two.

“There you are!” Ozzy cried joyously, dancing around on his talons and opening and closing his wings. “We were beginning to worry about you guys.”

Gael nodded his head respectfully towards Kira. “I trust you worked it out, Vixen Kira?”

Kira nodded, trying to keep a straight face. The difference between Ozzy and Gael was like a mountain. Ozzy was casual and happy, wearing many of his emotions on his beak. Gael, on the other paw, was glamorous and honorable, treating even the lowliest ant with the utmost respect. Kira was pretty sure he would bow to the grass blades if he could do so without looking crazy.

“Where are we going now?” Ozzy asked.

“Uh, to the Dragons?” Kira said. “Duh?”

Deya winced, but Kira kept her resolve. They needed to do something! If the Dragons went after Deya, too bad. They would meet the other end of Kira’s claws.

“I just...” Deya sighed. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Well, too bad!” Kira said. “I know how to fly. We know what to say. Let’s go!”

“Which Dragon kingdom would you go to first?” Gael asked.

“I would probably go to the Moon Dragons,” Deya said. “They’re known for their sympathy, and they might understand what could happen better than the others. Plus, they’re not impossible to get to. I have a rough idea of where they are.”

“You do?” Kira asked incredulously. “How? That’s like the most closely guarded secret in all of Cyalia.”

Deya chuckled. “All Light Dragons know it. We’re descended from the Moon Dragons.”

“So that part is true?” Kira asked.

Deya nodded. “Actually, the Dragons may not be gods, but they do affect the weather and condition of the earth and sea. So in some ways, the myths were based off of some truth. Long ago, we were called the Guardians of Cyalia—but I guess that quickly turned into the Gods of Cyalia.”

Ozzy shook his head. “So, where are we going?”

Deya looked at him. “I think you mean ‘where are you going’, because you aren’t going anywhere, Ozzy.”

The eagle looked hurt. “I can’t come with you?”

Deya shook her head. “I need you to warn Avaye of the dangers to come. We have no idea where the Black Dragon is going to strike next—so we need to be on the lookout. You are vital to this mission, Ozzy.” She turned to the quiet raven next to Kira. “You too, Gael. Warn Avaye.”

Gael bowed. “As you wish, Mistress Deya.”

He spread his midnight black wings and took to the sky towards the bigger plains, quickly becoming a black star over a blue background.

Ozzy lingered for a moment, hopping from one talon to the other. He gave Deya one last glance, then ruffled his feathers. “See you round, Deya. Good luck.”

Deya nodded. “See you.”

Then he took off as well, in the opposite direction of Gael, towards the mountains.

Kira and Deya looked at each other, then they lifted off into the sky as well, Kira’s heart jumping with every flap of her wings.

The wind rustled in the grass after them.

But neither of them noticed a figure perched on the nearest tree, head tucked under one wing, looking like a large fruit. But it was alive, and it had heard the whole conversation below them. Slowly, an ugly red head raised from a brown feathered wing. A sharp, pointed beak meant for tearing into rotten flesh glinted in the sunlight. The malevolent black eyes shone with greed. It watched as the two friends disappeared into the sky. Then it chuckled, a raspy sound like a frog coughing.

“Master will love this,” the vulture hissed, then flew off, cackling with glee.