The Shadow
Written by J-Haskell.
Set in May 503, this story chronicles recent events in the sundrake Tyr Kingdom, and how a group of refugees escaped from the Deep Provinces...
. . .
Asp’s first week as a soldier for King Tigerlilly was nothing like he’d expected.
“And don’t do it again!” Old Dubhe yelled, swinging his spear at the cowering group of Sundrakes; he might have been intimidating if his scales weren’t chipped and gray, and he didn’t sway a little on only three feet.
But the soot-streaked group were too busy staring past Dubhe to look with terror at the rest of the Garrison. It was just him, Dubhe, the Commander and his pets, but they were well-fed and muscular, while they were a scrawny, malnourished bunch.
“Please,” said a young Sundrake, grasping an egg at her side, “please don’t make us go back down there! My child will be a Shade if I can’t get them into the sun soon enough!”
“Get back,” Commander Aldebaran snarled, scowling down his long face at the dragon. Asp took a step back, holding his spear closer to his chest and trying to avoid either dragon’s eye. “You are miners. There is no place for folk like you on the surface.”
His movement must have caught the attention of the young Sundrake; she turned desperately to him and shoved her egg - already blackened, he realized - into his free hand, “please, at least let my child -”
She was cut off as the Commander jabbed her hard in the stomach with his spear; she gasped in a breathy manner and coughed a red spray of blood into Asp’s eyes. He cried out and stumbled backwards, the egg still in his hands, and he could hear the Commander growl, “get back!”
One of the others dragged her away, pressing hands to stem the flow of blood from the hole in her stomach. It didn’t look good. The other Sundrake looked up and fixed Commander Aldebaran with a look of anger, “you stabbed her! Can’t you at least get a healer before you send her back down to die?”
The Commander spread his wings, perfect and unscarred unlike Old Dubhe’s tattered pair, and beside him, his two pet soldiers stepped forward and angled their spears towards the group. “Return to the Deep Provinces now. I will not warn you again.”
For a moment the other Sundrake looked like they wanted to fight, but the bleeding dragon shook her head and, slowly, the dirty cluster of dragons backed away, vanishing into the darkness of the tunnel into the Dusk Province. Asp stared at the shadows for a few moments, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
“Hyades, Jupiter,” the Commander ordered; the two stood straight and attentive so perfectly that you knew Aldebaran’s mother had to be bribing them, “stand guard. If they try to sneak through again, you know what to do.”
“Asp.” It took him a moment to recognize his own name. Commander Aldebaran was glaring down at him, “Asp. Give that to me.”
“The egg?” He frowned at the Commander’s feet, pretending to be interested in his immaculately polished talons. “I, uh...”
Commander Aldebaran snorted. “Don’t be an idiot. Look at it; it’s already lost to Hyleg’s light. It’s only mercy.”
Asp shook his head and scrambled backwards. “I’ll take care of it, sir. Please don’t smash it!”
Hyades and Jupiter took a step forward, but Commander Aldebaran shook his head at them, “yearning for a hatchling, are you, Asp? Good luck raising the little monster in the barracks.”
Asp watched the Commander walk back towards the garrison and felt his entire body shudder. He held the black egg under his wing and dropped his spear to rub the blood from his face. When he could see clearly again, Old Dubhe was standing in front of him.
“Come with me.”
The older guard didn’t even wait for him to respond before he walked off towards the barracks, but the tone of his voice made it clear that Asp did not want to keep him waiting. He stopped only to scoop up his spear before he trotted after him.
The garrison was bare, at least outside of the dining hall, which the Commander had decorated profusely with his family’s banners, and smelled of old smoke. He followed Old Dubhe back to the narrow chambers they shared with the other guards; as it was midday, the room was dark and silent.
“What were you doing, boy?” The old Sundrake snarled as soon as they’d entered, “that dragon got killed because you weren’t paying attention. You’re a soldier, not some hatchling; you shouldn’t have let her touch you.”
“I - I…” Asp couldn’t find the words. “What?”
“And you’re going to get killed if you keep disobeying the Commander. We’re not vigilantes, Asp; we follow the orders of those above us, and if you don’t you’re a traitor to the king.” Dubhe exhaled and all the anger seemed to leave him.
“But what if we’re being told to do something terrible?” Like killing a dragon for trying to get her child a better life. “Why should we follow the Commander’s orders when he’s stupid and wrong?”
“That’s treason,” the old Sundrake said, “if the Commander heard you saying as much, you’d be executed by the morning. Did you think you joined the army to follow your heart? That’s not what we do.”
Asp was silent but gripped the egg in his arms a little tighter. That’s stupid, he wanted to say, but he was suddenly very aware of the fact that Old Dubhe could report him if he pissed him off enough.
He sighed, “you’ll get used to it. I’ve been a soldier since I was younger than you. I helped Hessian burn her own people during the plague and fought with the Tyrs during the civil war. It’s not up to us to decide what’s right; that’s for people like the Commander.”
He stared after Dubhe as he left him alone in the dark room for minutes after the old Sundrake had vanished into the hallway. The sound of something scuffing against the floor caught his attention and he turned to see a pair of yellow eyes staring at him from the shadows.
“What a pathetic old man,” came a voice; they sounded young. “All those excuses; orders this, treason that, as if he’s not in control of his own claws.”
“Who are you?” Asp leaped back; he didn’t recognize their voice, “and what are you doing in the barracks?”
“Oh, I’m here to burn them down, normal everyday stuff,” they stepped forward and seemed to materialize from the shadows as the light from the hall fell over their black scales. A Shade. “What about you? Going to run off and do your duty by reporting me?”
“Don’t come any closer,” he said, holding his spear one-handed and probably looking pathetic. “You’re Guile, aren’t you?”
The Shade started laughing, so hard that she nearly fell over, “am I Guile? I’m a Guile, sure. I saw what you did back there, you know. Good on you, standing up to that asshole.”
Asp blinked; the compliment caught him so off-guard he forgot to ask what being ‘a Guile’ meant. “You saw that?”
“I did, yes. Very noble of you.” She leaped onto one of the narrow cots and frowned, “I don’t get how you sleep on these, it’s like a rock. Anyway, since you’re so noble ‘n stuff, I was hoping you’d like to try some arson, too.”
Asp couldn’t hold back a laugh of his own, “what? I’m not going to help you burn the barracks down, I live here.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, laying down on the supposedly uncomfortable mattress, “see, those dragons who your friends sent away could make it out if the guards were only... distracted. They might be able to get into the sunlight for the first time. Have some nice, healthy eggs and all that magical stuff. Eat something other than mushrooms.
His stomach lurched at the memory of the dragon willing to get stabbed for a chance at life in the outside world. “But…”
“Right, treason, I forgot to care,” Guile sighed, “and here I thought you didn’t want to end up like that sad old man, telling young soldiers they should smash eggs when ordered.”
Her yellow eyes stared into his for a few moments before Asp couldn’t look at her anymore, and glanced down at his feet instead. His talons itched. Guile was slipping past him into the hall when he lifted his head, “wait. I’ll help.”
She grinned at him. “Excellent. Welcome to treason-town, friend.”
Asp laughed, “so, uh, what’s the plan?”
“No plans, just arson,” she smiled, apparently proud of her lack of preparation. “Do it at night so they won’t be able to see us leave the cave.”
This is going to end terribly, he thought to himself as he nodded his approval and watched Guile vanish. The rest of the evening he spent pacing the halls, and was glad for the scene with the Commander earlier; he was sure the other guards would just pass it off as residual anxiety.
“Stop that,” Dubhe finally snapped at him as he was passing the mess hall again, “go sit down.”
“R-right,” he said, smiling at the older Sundrake and heading back to the empty sleeping chambers.
He sat down on his cot beside the black egg for a few minutes, peering at the fading light he could see through the window. Was it dark enough? Should he light the fire now? Was it already too late?
Tap tap. A familiar pair of yellow eyes flashed in the window before vanishing. Right. If that wasn’t a signal, then Guile was a terrible terrible person and it would be her fault if he messed up.
“Alright,” he said to the egg, bundling it in blankets and tying it around his chest, “let’s do this.”
Arson turned out to be surprisingly easy. He’d found some of the Commander’s fireworks and stolen the powder from inside them. The garrison’s stores of kindling and firewood blazed to life beautifully, and he felt the heat already as the fire ate through the wood and into the walls.
For a moment he was so mesmerized by the flames he’d forgotten he was in ‘treason town’, as Guile had put it; a shout called his attention back to that. Another guard was rushing towards him and he ran off with a shriek.
He didn’t stop running until he leaped out of a window and into the shocking cold of the night. Asp could smell smoke already, strong against the scent of fresh air, and wheeled around in the sky to take in the sight of the fire he’d started. It was already spreading through the rest of the barracks, and he felt an urge to help them put it out before a dark shape flew up beside him.
“Come on, silly!” Guile brushed his wing with hers, nearly knocking him out of the air, “they’ll see us if you keep flying around like this!”
“Oh,” Asp felt a little stupid, and followed Guile back down towards the entrance to the Deep Provinces. The crowd of dragons was larger than before, but he saw some familiar faces from earlier that day.
“You.” One of them snarled, “you’re one of the guards, Guile he -”
Guile hissed, “shut up! He’s helping us, you idiot. Now let’s go, before the others see.”
The other dragons quieted immediately, listening perhaps even better than Aldebaran’s pets did and crept slowly along the cliffside, heading past the burning garrison.
Something warm landed on his back; ashes. Asp froze and looked up at the building he’d called home for the past year, engulfed in flames. The silhouettes of guards flickered against red and gold as they tried to put it out. He hoped it wouldn’t spread to the town.
“Hey,” someone flicked him in the nose; Guile, of course, “you can’t stay here. Remember that old man’s speech about treason, yeah? Let’s get out of here.”
Asp nodded, forced himself to look away from the flaming building, and followed her into the night.
“Your name isn’t actually Guile, is it?” He asked when they were further down the mountainside. She didn’t look much older than him; it was hard to imagine she’d been harassing the King for the past five years.
“Of course not,” she snorted, “it’s Jasper. As I said, I’m a Guile.”
“Jasper. Cool,” he said, “I’m Asp.”
Jasper snorted, “well, Asp, I’d be happy to do arson with you again anytime.”