When I was young, I remember watching my mother deal with trespassers who had been found in the deep woods. Although she was not born into the Solaris Clan or even from the realm of Avalonnia, she was still a divine dragon—just of a different sort. It was rare that those outside the Solaris blood were permitted to ascend to the rank of Guardian. But Mom had a way about her that was not like any other dragon I had seen. When she smiled, it was like sunlight with a hint of lightning—beautiful and warm but oh-so-lethal. A golden circlet was woven between the strands of her tussled white hair. The Sunrise Glaive rested comfortably in one hand, its central red gem agleam with magic.
She was as dangerous as she was beautiful and those trespassers had no clue what they were in store for.
Dad made us watch the smitings every so often. It was supposed to get us used to the sight of the quivering fools that broke the Old Laws. I stood between my sisters, donned in a dumb frilly periwinkle dress that I hated. We all knew to keep quiet. We just stared at the proceedings as Dad stood by in full draconic form. Though he lounged comfortably, I could see the wariness in his eyes. He was ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
The two trespassers quivered on the ground. They were elven teens—too young to think they could ever get caught but old enough to know better. I felt a pinch sad for them.
… But the wicked deserved to be smited. They deserved this punishment. I did not look away because to do that would be to deny what I knew would be my future. Even if I never wanted it. Somehow, I had always known…
“Who sent you!?”
Mother made a spectacle of it every time. I think she did it because it scared the piss out of people. It was somewhat effective, I’ll admit. If people are too scared to break rules, then they won’t. Not without sufficient motivation, at the least. But personally? I think Mom liked smiting people. I think it helped her take some anger out. I didn’t think about that until I was older.
It gets so frustrating to see people be wicked over and over and over again. It gets maddening even. And I know some people say they do it because of their demons but… fuck it, don’t we all have demons? Don’t we all have reasons to want the world to burn?
Personally? I think that people that act like that are weak. But that’s a rant for another day.
I think Mom liked the relief of smiting someone because it felt, for a moment, like she was fixing some of the wrong in the world. Even if she layered it with theatrics, she was always sincere about her Guardian role. Deity knows her time as a hatchling had been hard and that she had seen the true face of wickedness time and time again. No wonder she was so passionate about it all.
“Please!” yelled one of the elven trespassers—a young man with pleading baby blues and a shrill tone about his voice. “We won’t do it again!”
“Hmph!” Mom’s nose wrinkled disdainfully at him. “I should think not by the time I am through with you.”
She raised her hand, thumb and middle finger snapping once together. The bolt of holy magic came from above, striking down upon the trespassers. They screamed and my heart sank. My toes curled, their tips digging into the soles of my shoes. Teeth clenching, my small hands balled into fists. The noise of their suffering became nearly unbearable before my mother gave them a reprieve from their punishment. When the divine light faded, they lay unmoving upon the ground—alive and barely clinging to consciousness. One of them lifted his head, eyes flitting to mine for a moment. I could not meet his gaze, instead staring holes through the tiles at my feet.
“Do not despair; if you feel pain, it is simply your wickedness leaving your body,” tutted Mother, taking a few prideful steps away from them.
“This still does not answer the question of why they felt the need to trespass into the thick of the Avalonnian Forest,” Father mused aloud, voice accompanied with a low and throaty growl.
“We… we heard a story… a rumor...” one of the elves whimpered.
“I don’t recall giving you leave to speak, wretch!” Mom snarled, lifting her hand once more with the threat of another bolt aglow in her palm.
"Please…” my father interrupted. “We can show a little mercy. We are not beasts. You there! Tell us of this rumor and you will be free to leave.”
"They… they say there is something… something in the woods…” one of the elves began, voice quivering from agony and fear. “Something about a shrine… something about… a treasure…”
I watched my mother’s eyes narrow to slits. Her nose crinkled and she demanded, “Where did you hear of that?”
“Some people told us… strange men, at a tavern down in the city…” the other elf began, tears streaking down either sides of his face.
“You risk your life over fables and folklore,” Dad said dismissively, far more tempered than his partner. His tail gave a flick and he looked to one of the vassals on standby. Back in those days, House Solaris had the need and coffers for plenty of security. This one’s name was Reginald, I think. He was an older dragon, one with fire-red scales that had lost their vivid hue long ago.
“See them escorted off the premises. I will pen a letter to the mayor and see if anything can be done about these damn rumors,” my father said.
Reginald did as he was bidden; the elves were dragged from the room. I felt my shoulders lax slightly with the relief that they were being taken away—it meant the whole unpleasant ordeal was about to be over. I fidgeted with a gold bracelet around my wrist, curiously watching as Mother let out a heated sigh. She glanced back at Father.
“You don’t think they deserve at least a night in a cell?”
“No. I am not convinced you did not make one soil his pants.”
“Hmph. Good. Well, what do you make of the rumors?”
"I’ve no real desire to chase rumors in taverns told by drunkards, if I must be frank. This may be no different than every other tall tale that springs from speculations and conspiracy theorists…” Father replied dismissively. “Yet still, I would wager an increase in security is called for…”
He looked to us—his three children, still in our dumb dresses that felt too frilly to ever possibly be comfortable.
“For the time being, you will be prohibited from going outdoors after sunset.”
We nodded. We said we understood. This was the way of things as a member of House Solaris. Smitings. Rules and rules and more rules. Mother and Father exchanging those loaded, thoughtful glances. The sound of footsteps on marble, the chatter of maids in the hallways. Stupid frilly dresses and expectations.
I hated it.
---
I don’t enjoy fighting like I used to. Once, I would have said that facing down a squadron of dragon hunters was exhilarating. But that was when I was younger, when I was stupider. When I was a hatchling, I thought we were all so invincible. That was not true. I’ve seen the same sad story over and over again. In a lot of ways, death and misfortune is always around the corner. I reminded myself that as I stared down the huntress, calculating my next move.
There was no chance I got through this without giving myself away to the people on the bus—the ones that probably didn’t know a damn thing about magic, dragons, other worlds, or what any of this was even about. I felt bad for them. I felt bad for the government agents that were going to have to fill out all the paperwork from this incident too. But some things just can’t be helped.
I knew Alphonse was nearby. There wasn’t a chance in Hell he had tracked my ass down this far just to leave me for dead. He was too honorable for that—promise or no promise to my dad to bring me home. I couldn’t see Alphonse but I had to trust he would know when to strike.
“So you’re going to fight? Have it your way…” the huntress said to me, a dangerous look in her eye.
I was ready for her to pull the trigger.
But before her finger could even squeeze down and send the first bullet flying at me, another gunshot rang out. The hunter next to her fell, ice covering the upper half of his torso. I did not even have to wonder who it was.
“What the—” the huntress started, eyes snapping wide as she looked to where her ally had fallen.
Big mistake.
If this were some cheesy anime, I would have said some dumb shit like “Ha! All according to plan”. But in a real fight, there’s no time for quips. I lunged for the huntress, gathering magic to my fingers. When it flew from my hand, I prayed a sadistic little prayer that it hurt her—that it broke her. But even though the divine bolt struck true, I saw quickly she was tougher than I had hoped she would be. She turned and I did not need to dwell on what her next move would be. Throwing myself to the side, I heard her gun go off. No doubt where I had just been was in the trajectory of a bullet.
“There’s another one!” one of the hunters yelled as Alphonse came barreling through, gun firing off more magic bullets that exploded with every element under the sun.
I took the moment of confusion to strike at their leader. In the midst of combat, everything moves so quickly but I had a vague plan that maybe the best way to end this skirmish was to cut off the head of the snake, so to speak. She saw me move for her and instead of firing, she drew a hunting knife.
A swing—a miss. I lashed out with a fist back at her. We grappled for a few moments and I desperately tried to grab the knife from her. But fortunately for her, she had a damn grip of iron and I soon found myself stumbling back after a kick had been planted straight into my gut. One hand went to my stomach as I tried to regain my footing, glancing up in time to see the huntress lunge for me.
The blade came down, its metal reflecting the harsh sunlight overhead. I grabbed her wrist, feet anchoring. The sound of Alphonse tearing through the rest of them was deafening—I could hear and smell the fire breath as it raked across that desolate highway. Bullets rang out; the cacophony so loud that my head spun. Combat was so often deafening and my mind slipped into that swarm of thoughts that kept assailing me over and over again. As my heart raced, it felt like the dam was breaking. Everything came to the front of my mind—even things that felt so irrelevant given what was on the line at the moment.
I could be at home sleeping off a hangover and waking up to the smell of shitty pizza I left out in the kitchen overnight.
I could be playing video games.
I could be eating an entire bowl of pho.
I could be taking my 3rd bubble bath of the week.
…
I could be back at the hall with the guild.
But no. Nothing ever went how I wanted. It had never gone the way I wanted.
I felt like I was at the mercy of the whims of fate. All I could do was dance and sing along and hope that we made it out of this alive.
She tried to overpower me but I was just a little bit stronger. The knife flew from her hand. Out came the gun. The sound of the first bullet hitting the cement was not unlike a roar of thunder. It morphed my fear further and further into an enraged frenzy. Holy magic poured into both of my hands.
“Get back!” I snarled at her as the smite left my hand.
I saw the bolt course through her, striking her down. Its image imprinted upon my mind as she crumpled to the ground. Tension prevented me from exhaling for a few long seconds after, staring at where the huntress lay.
“Y-your… your eyes…” she said, voice cracking and garbled by the blood in her mouth. I will never forget the look in her eyes—the whites of her scleras nearly swallowing her pupils whole. I have seen fear before. I’ve seen the way it turns people into animals. I’ve seen how it changes people.
This was different. That’s all I can say to describe it. She looked beyond frightened, the color draining from her flesh. Her unblinking eyes bore hard into mine.
“What… what are you…?”
I saw her mouth twist into a smile—the red of her blood mixing with the red of her lipstick.
“No matter. Your skin… still yet will fetch… a nice price…”
I saw her start to point the gun back at me and my heart lurched with sudden fear.
A gunshot rang out…
… Yet quickly, I realized it was not from the huntress’s gun. I looked to my left to see Alphonse standing there a few feet away, his gun pointed at the fallen huntress and a cold look in his eyes. The shot seemed to echo forever into the silence. I realized that the hunters had all been downed—some half-frozen by Alphonse’s magic while others twitched still with blue rings of electricity still coursing over their bodies.
Safe… for now. But Deity knows how long it’ll last.
I mopped some sweat from my brow with the back of my sleeve. A gentle groan nearby alerted me back to the bus driver, who had been shot. I ran towards him, kneeling so quickly that my knees slammed into the concrete. The driver’s eyes were wide, staring at me as he labored for air. Blood still dripped from his injury, squeezing through his clenched fingers like a gentle cascade.
When was the last time I’ve even done this…?
I reached for him, hands trembling. Divine dragons were known for their holy magicks. Healing wounds was supposed to be as easy as breathing air to someone like me…
But recently, I hadn’t felt much like a divine dragon. If anything, I guess I’d felt like a sloppy pizza-and-beer dragon than anything. Just the idea of healing him brought back a flood of memories that I did not want to think about. But I tried to force those thoughts down, gritting my teeth and willing my fingers to try to still themselves.
“Amalia…” Alphonse began in warning and I knew he did not enjoy the concept of us lingering for long.
“We can spare a moment,” I said hurriedly and he huffed out a weary sigh.
A divine dragon’s wrath is like fire—pure and cleansing. Healing is hardly much different—pure and cleansing but with a flowing stream’s gentle touch. It was hard to find the right magic when my feelings were so wild and tangled. But after some navigating and recollection, I felt the magic trickle from my fingers. Its light was a strand, winding as a river and golden as a sunrise.
He stayed still, his terrified eyes glued to me as the magic did its work. I wanted to tell him that it was going to be okay but even with my limited level of expertise, I… really could not have said if it would be. My mouth opened to speak—to say something, anything to comfort him. But I found that it was hard to form sentences—hard to form words, even. Exhaustion hit me like a truck and I blinked through it, giving myself a small shake to try to stay alert. Yet even still, I could feel the swarm of thoughts come back—ignited with newfound energy and questions.
‘Your eyes’… What did she mean by that…?
Sirens in the distance took longer than they should have to register in my brain. It might have been the middle of no where highway, but someone on the bus had to have called the cops by now. I felt my heart lurch with sudden anxiety. An abrupt grip on my upper arm momentarily tore my attention away. The healing spell halted at once, the magic dissipating into specks that danced upon the wind.
“Go!” Alphonse shouted to me, loud enough to temporarily drown out my growing panic. “Fly!”
I looked at the driver for a brief moment, feeling Alphonse squeeze my arm.
“It’ll be alright,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure if that was true. But I wanted to believe it was.
“Amalia!” Alphonse said more urgently, the sirens wailing ever closer.
I pulled free from my father’s vassal, wings spreading. We were airborne what felt like a second later, fleeing the scene like a pair of criminals (which I refused to believe we were). The clouds consumed us as we dashed ever upward, flying until the road was no longer in sight. On an ordinary day, I might have cherished the feeling of soaring so freely. Yet I felt nothing but a relentless flurry of thoughts, crammed into my brain like too many fish inside of a pond. My hand went to my head, gripping a fistful of green hair as I tried to mentally digest the past 24 hours.
There was no way we did not have some Earthian government agents knocking on our door after this. They were going to have our asses for this, no doubt, and I could not wait to have to sign all of the paperwork for that…
With the roar of the wind in my ears, it was nearly impossible to talk to Alphonse. We kept a quiet between us, listening as best as I could for any incoming planes. Thank the Deity it seemed like no one was flying today. Maybe someone had told them all not to—for undisclosed reasons (like two dragons flying around). Maybe we had just caught a lucky break for once.
Regardless, we flew until the sun began to dip below the horizon. My eyelids drooped with exhaustion, stomach growling for a meal. I was just thinking to myself that maybe I should ask Alphonse if we could land in the next town. Maybe there would be one of those old-timey diners—the cheesy kind with the checkboard flooring, a jukebox no one uses, and some damn good milkshakes. But just when I thought to try to signal to him that I wanted to stop, I noticed the landscape below.
We’re here.
It looked like ordinary landscape in the middle of America. Trees thickly clustered together in a sprawling forest that stretched as far as I could see. A city rose in the distance, skyscrapers a myriad of beiges, grays, and blacks. Winding highways ran the vast distance beneath us, carrying so many people to and from the metropolis. It looked so normal for Earth… but I knew what secret the nearby trees held.
We descended and as we did, I noted the fence that had been put up around that particular area of the woods. The authorities really did not want anyone to find the portal—which I understood completely, seeing as I was about to be the person that likely had to escort them back out if they stumbled inside. But the fence, armed with some conspicuous “DO NOT ENTER, GOVERNMENT PROPERTY” signs and nothing more did not exactly seem like dissuasion enough. At least in my opinion.
Alphonse and I touched down in the midst of those emerald woods, the earthy smell of the forest wafting across my nose. It was vaguely damp, freshly rained upon with small puddles collecting amidst the twigs and dirt underfoot. We walked for a short ways, still in that dreaded and exhausted silence. My brain still churned with so much thought that I felt empty, occupying my mind by stepping loudly in some puddles every time one crossed our path.
“I can tell you’re tired,” Alphonse remarked and my head lifted slightly. “You didn’t even ask about your belongings after we fled the hunters.”
I could not stifle the surprise gasp that sputtered from my lips. Oh no! He was right—I had forgotten about my stuff.
“I—” I began in a panic.
“I have them here,” Alphonse said, patting his pocket. “I grabbed it all after you ran off. Made it a bit more portable for safekeeping.”
“Oh…” My shoulders lost their tension, sagging slightly.
“You’re welcome,” Alphonse added pointedly.
“Thanks…” I mumbled as a belated reply.
The portal to Avalonnia is hidden quite well in the human world. Illusionary magicks obstruct the floating portal’s appearance, making it appear invisible. For ease of access, however, there’s a stairwell. To the ordinary eye, it would look as if someone had just left a set of stairs leading to nowhere… and maybe that was why so many humans ended up tumbling through to our world. They were old, made of dark gray-blue stone and moss-ridden. I used to get worried they would crumble under my feet when I climbed them but my father had reassured me that they were magically reinforced to never weather away.
“In you go,” Alphonse said to me, still evidently annoyed at the day’s events.
“Yeah, yeah…”
The portal was invisible but I could feel its hum of magic. My hand extended out, grazing against its surface. I used to get worried the portal would close before I passed all the way through and it’d rip my hand off but my dad said that was an old urban legend. He explained it’d just spit whatever was inside back out—it was perfectly safe, “the way the Deity had intended for it to be”. I don’t know if that was true, unlike the bit he had told me about the stairs. But I wanted to believe it was safe… for my own anxiety’s sake, at least.
I pulled my hand back for a moment, looking at Alphonse. He had his hands on his hips, wearing a disgruntled expression. I didn’t even have to ask him if I had to do this—I already knew the answer.
I sighed and stepped through.
That first sight of Avalonnia always hits me with nostalgia and even on that dreadful day, it was no different. I felt a rush of magic in the air as I came through to the other side. Silently, I mused to myself about how some things changed but some things never did. There was still that bit of a tingle in my heart when I came back to Avalonnia—that little bit of me that recognized this place as home, even if I didn’t want it to be.
Standing stones were the first thing I saw, etched with old designs from civilizations long dead. And beyond their shadow spread a forest.
Autumntide Woods…
I breathed in that familiar smell. Yes, it was just as timeless as I could remember. Trees with leaves afire with vivid color, the soft crunch with each step, the smell of water and earth. It was nostalgic enough to give me pause, to steal my breath and my anxieties away. I craned my neck back, looking above at the array of scarlets, oranges, and yellows. It was probably because I was so tired but for a moment, I wondered if maybe everything would be all right. Life was hectic. Nothing went according to plan. But the fiery leaves were beautiful and the wind brushing through them was like a song that called to me. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad living here. Maybe it would even be fun…
Alphonse emerged from the portal behind me. He carried on past me, totally unimpressed by the sight. As he did, he spoke—his voice devoid of warmth.
“Welcome home.”
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