The Crimson Dawn
Dragon Blood

The sun was just barely peeking over the skyline when Altair had shaken Atlas awake. Altair had been able to sleep right away, Atlas had known that based on the pattern of his breathing but Atlas? She had probably gotten less than an hour with her head swimming in what she had forgotten and how freezing a winter night in the mountains was. But Altair was ready to go and Atlas had gotten enough sleep that she didn’t want to knock him out to get at least a few more hours.

As the sun rose higher, it warmed Atlas’s bones as she walked with Altair down the mountain. She had never done that before. She had never left Kestva and she struggled not to look back on her home, at the people sleeping safely in their beds she didn’t even get to say goodbye to because Atlas was an ass.

She kept her teeth from chattering and pulled at her gauntlets, readjusting them again and again. Altair just sent her glares. The trek down the mountain grew warmer as the sun grew, it was quiet except for the crunching beneath their boots, and Atlas had tried to hum a soft tune now and again, but she only managed to irritate Altair who told her to shut up.

“How cold are your winters in Sylvisa?” Atlas asked Altair, tired of the endless silence. “Kestva winters are always like this in the beginning, later we get so much snow, the Reds usually break into fights about late-night patrols.”

“Winter hasn’t even begun in Sylvisa, nor has it anywhere besides the Mountains. It is still early Autumn,” Altair sighs and Atlas’s cheeks burn red like she was supposed to know that. Kestva was the only place she knew, she didn’t even know what Altair meant by Autumn. There were only a few weeks where the leaves turned yellow and the animals started to disappear and a slight chill in the wind before winter truly hit.

Silence overtook them once again before Altair looked at her with much more irritation than Atlas was used to. “You should stop wearing so much red. You look like a Blood.” Altair gnarred, his red eyes looking into her for a moment before looking back with a forceful swing of his head. Atlas stared daggers into his back as he walked, she didn’t want to deign herself to answer him but when he looked back at her, she knew he either expected action or an answer.

“I’m not getting rid of the Red. I am a warrior of Kestva and it represents me as such,” Atlas told him, fixing her stature so she walked with more pride in her footsteps.

“It also represents you as a Blood Sorcerer,” Altair stopped to turn to her, standing in her path as he bared his teeth. “In times of fear, nobody is going to look at hope first, they’re going to think of the enemy and you end up on the other side of their swords.” Altair paused for a moment, looking her up and down. “At least get rid of the cloak, you make us obvious in these woods.”

“It is the only thing keeping me slightly warm in these mountains,” she defended. Altair clenched his jaw before pulling the string holding her cloak around her shoulders and it slipped to the ground almost as a feather would, catching the air before making a flopping noise. “HEY-!” Altair quickly shut her up by taking off his cloak, a dark shade of green, wrapping it around her shoulders and clasping it with the silver chain.

He stomped off quickly before Atlas could make any sort of noise. “Uh, hey wait!” She called, grabbing the red cloak from the ground and shaking it off before rushing to catch up with him. “You can’t just do that! It’s rude!” She yelled at him; her cheeks red against the cold.

“Really? How so? I solved the problem,” he said, gruffly, looking slightly left at the trees, scanning something.

“Well… because… it just is okay!” She shouted at him and when he didn’t answer she tried to see what he was seeing. “What are you looking at?” Atlas huffed.

“We’re coming up on Aspyn territory.”

“What? How do you know?”

He pointed at a pile of brown mud-like substance past some trees that were hard to see. “Dragon droppings along the patrol line.”

“Oh. Gross.” Altair looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “What? It is.”

“It is a natural occurrence. Unless you would like to tell me that you do not produce excrement. I might be able to find some herbs for that because that is surely not healthy,” Altair told her with a smirk and Atlas wasn’t able to tell if he was serious or not. She playfully pushed him with a small smile.

“Oh, come on, you cannot tell me you would want to go near the giant pile. It’s a lot. And I bet it smells like… well shit. How can anyone stand that?” Atlas scrunched her nose and Altair laughed. He laughed. The sound was musical and bright, unlike the rest of his personality.

“No, I guess I cannot say that and to answer your question, I do not know how anyone can stand a dragon. Dangerous and destructive beasts,” Altair said with a bit of indignance and that’s when Atlas remembered that Elves and Dragons were not in balance with one another. Aspyn wasn’t going to be a kind place for Altair to be.

It took several moments before either one of them spoke as they journeyed forward. Atlas prayed to Lord Myrrh for protection as they went through Aspyn but her prayers went unanswered as they heard a dragon’s roar and heard the flapping of giant wings before they felt them. Atlas grabbed Altair and forced him behind her, it wouldn’t do so much since Elves were significantly taller than Humans, but it made her feel useful. She unsheathed her sword, determined to protect Altair and herself should any problems arise.

A boy slipped from the Dragon’s back, the four talons gripping the ground and the dragon growled in protest. “Hush, Apallon.” The boy whispered, taking his helmet off, shaking his black messy hair, and glaring at the two of them with deep brown eyes. His features were sharp and hostile, and he walked forward the purpose, unafraid with dragons at his back. “You carry a Blood cloak.”

“Kestva Red Cloak. Easy mistake, Altair made the same one,” Atlas says with a slight smirk as she teases the boy, Altair snarled a bit and nudged her.

“Altair?” The boy’s gaze fell on the elf behind her, and his eyes crinkled in confusion. “An Elf? And a Kestva warrior? My Gods, these are strange times. And why should I believe you?” Atlas sighed in annoyance and pulled out the emblem around her neck, the symbol of the Time God, Atlas had almost thought about leaving it behind oddly. She felt guilty about it, almost like she had betrayed the Lord of Time by almost leaving behind his symbol.

“And I assure you, they do not hand these out like they do the pastries,” Atlas told him, not mentioning the fact she used to steal pastries from the kitchens. She was unable to now that she wasn’t in Kestva.

The boy squinted his eyes at the emblem. “Why is the Elf with you?”

“Cause he’s useful,” Atlas smiled, and she looked back at Altair to see his disapproving glare. She looked back at the boy and corrected herself for Altair’s sake. “He was hunting Bloods and now he’s stuck with me.”

“Bloods attacked Kestva?” The boy’s eyebrows drew together in concern. “How long ago? How many? Were there any casualties?”

“Of course, there were,” Altair growled at the questions. “Yesterday there were only two, but they brought their pets along.”

The boy’s frown deepened as Altair spoke. “No need for hostility, Elf.”

“You both are acting like children. It is rude to accuse us and not introduce yourself,” Atlas told the boy, angry that they couldn’t get along for a moment. She shot Altair a look, hoping he understood the meaning before she took a step forward. “I am Atlas of Kestva, I am part of the red division and the duty of traveling with Altair has been placed on me. I must ask you to be polite to my companion while he is in my company.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The boy seemed to get frustrated himself until his dragon spoke, shocking both Atlas and the boy. Her blood smells familiar to me, Zale, it is similar to yours.

Atlas stared at the dragon open-mouthed and the boy- Zale- seemed to want to give her a quick look before he noticed her facial expression. “Did you- Did you understand him?” Altas nodded numbly as she stared at the big, gold-scaled dragon and Altair grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him, staring daggers at Zale but Atlas could tell he was curious as well.

✧

Atlas felt the wind in her hair as they rode Dragon back and she almost forgot how scary this was supposed to be. She felt her grip loosen on Zale and a laugh almost escaped her at the feeling of freedom. Altair gripped her harder as they flew closer to Aspyn and Atlas knew that Apallon felt the Elf’s fear. Aspyn was a bright city and Atlas could see the giant dragons roosting near the castle, where they would no doubt land. The feeling felt so natural, so instinctive and Atlas almost let go of Zale completely just to explore the desire.

Apallon rumbled as they drew closer to landing at the roost, Altair jumped scooting closer to Atlas and she let go of Zale to put her hands over Altair’s. Trying to reassure him. She sent a smile over her shoulder before putting her hands back on Zale, noticing he had turned to see what was going on.

“Thought you fell off for a moment,” Zale chuckled, speaking loudly over the wind and Apallon was close to land. Atlas felt a growl reverberate in Altair’s chest that was pressed up against her back and her heart jumped.

The sound of Apallon landing at the roost echoed off the walls and quickly drew everyone’s attention. Attendants quickly ran over to start caring for the giant beast as Zale slid off the dragon’s back and caught Atlas as she did the same. She thanked him and he shrugged, walking off as Altair landed beside Atlas.

“You enjoyed that,” Altair noted, it was stern but not angry, and yet Atlas felt the need to deny it anyway. Like it was wrong of her to like the taste of fresh strawberries, sweet with a slight bitterness; freedom.

“Did not. I am no Dragon-Blood,” Atlas folded her arms and Altair slightly chuckled.

“Calm. My dislike of this Kingdom will not affect our relationship,” Altair walked after Zale and Atlas stared off at him with an open mouth. Relationship? Altair was speaking as if he thought well of her. He hasn’t tried to stab me again… would that be the equivalent of a good relationship for Elves? She thought and she ran to catch up with them.

As she walked alongside Zale, her eye caught a dusty gray dragon, she felt the loneliness and heartbreak of it. “That is Ikarus,” Zale told her, noticing that the dragon had caught her attention. “The first Dragon to ever be born without a Royal Rider. He has never flown the skies. A terrible fate for a Dragon.”

“Why has he never flown before? That just seems cruel,” Atlas frowns as she stares at the sad beast, and he catches her eye. The feeling of home spreads throughout her chest and she looks away, trying to ignore it.

“Maybe but the dragon has no connection. We cannot understand him, and he cannot understand us and to release him could bring unknown consequences,” Zale paused before continuing. “My father wanted to end the Dragon, but my uncle insisted on sparing it for whatever reason. I do not know which is the crueler fate.”

“Is there no way for someone else to ride him?” Atlas inquired, trying not to look back at Ikarus as they walked.

Zale chucked before he realized her question was serious, he was about to speak when Altair cut in. “To my understanding, the Dragons are tied to the Royal Family. The Dragons are born with a child and only that child can tame the Dragon. Simply put, without the Dragon’s other half, there is no way to guarantee anyone else’s safety around it.”

Zale glared at Altair but nodded. “Yes, exactly. What do you think? Should my father have put him down? But then again you probably think that all Dragons should die, Elf.”

“I think putting such destructive beasts in the control of other destructive beasts is the crime. The Dragons should simply be free of Human control,” Altair hisses, and Atlas knows this is going to turn into a fight.

“And instead set them free to wreak their own havoc?” Zale looks appalled.

“Everything in this realm can cause destruction. Perhaps we should all be put on leashes!”

“Shut up the both of you! We can have philosophical debates later, but I believe right now we have important matters?” Atlas suggests and the both of them look at her before Zale silently turns back to leading them.

The castle is huge, and the winding hallways make Atlas wonder how Zale can find his way through. Kestva was big but it had an obvious navigation system, here the hallways all looked the same and it made her miss home even more. Altair and Atlas stuck close to Zale because even though Altair and Zale couldn’t get along, Altair must’ve noticed the inane way they had their castle halls.

Soon enough they came upon huge doors that were opened for Zale as he arrived and the guards greeted the Prince respectfully but Zale gave them simple nods. Altair and Atlas followed closely, earning suspicious glares from the guards instead of greetings, not even apprehensive hellos. Just doubt and distrust. It was unnerving to Atlas to not know those who were on guard, in Kestva they were always the faces Atlas had grown up with. Atlas’s gaze shifted to Altair and she wondered if he missed home too. But there was nothing on his face to hint at anything he felt and Atlas wanted to grab his hand at least for her own comfort.

“Zale,” A man sat on an iron throne that shone in the sun and was polished to perfection. It looked uncomfortable. His voice echoed through the chamber and his ability to make his voice known without shouting was impressive. He was older, with salt and pepper hair and light wrinkles on his face, but his body wasn’t old and decaying, he was strong and well-taken care of. “You brought guests.”

They drew closer before Zale spoke to King Velor, Atlas at least remembered the name from Runo’s teachings. And Atlas also remembered to show respect and not to speak out of turn. Velor was not a man you wanted to anger. Atlas bowed her head, nudging Altair to do the same and he did though Atlas could tell he didn’t understand the point.

“I found them on the borders of Aspyn and Kestva, Father, when I was heading there myself. Atlas,” Zale gestured to me. “Is a Red and told me the news of an attack on Kestva made by the Bloods, and how this Elf that is journeying with her, was sent by his people to gather information about the Blood Sorcerers.”

Atlas could see Altair’s jaw tense, but she shook her head, warning him not to say anything, Altair wanted to correct Zale since it was Atlas who had been accompanying him, but it was not worth the trouble to correct. King Velor nodded and seemed to be studying us as he took several moments to stare.

“You wear Green, Atlas,” King Velor said with a smile, an eyebrow quirked up in amusement.

“The Red Cloak made me look like a Blood, Your Highness, unfortunately, it was smarter to leave the cloak behind,” Atlas answered, and it was unnatural for her to keep such a formal tone. Both Zale and Altair looked at her like she was a bizarre animal. Atlas clutched her bundled red cloak in her arms, carefully hidden under Altair’s green one. Atlas couldn’t bring herself to leave it behind.

“That is not the only matter I bring to your attention, Father,” Zale speaks, drawing Velor’s attention to him once again. “Atlas was able to-”

Zale is interrupted by a man walking into the hall, his features much like Velor’s but he was younger, had fewer gray hairs, and was skinny rather than strong, reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. “Velor, about the matter, I was wondering if-” he stops as he looks up and notices them. “Oh… you have guests, I didn’t realize, brother.” His gaze lands on Atlas and his eyes widen further.

Velor chuckles. “It is a miracle you realize anything, with your nose in your papers so much, Kadyn.” Velor looks back to Zale and motions for him to keep speaking. Kadyn then continues walking, standing next to his brother but his eyes always seem to come back to land on Atlas.

“Atlas was able to understand Apallon, Father, she heard his words and Apallon also mentioned that her blood was familiar,” Zale spoke, and both of the men seemed to stiffen in their places. Velor looked to Kadyn, but the man continued to stare at Atlas.

“Interesting but I’m sure it was nothing,” Velor shook off and Kadyn ripped his gaze away to stare at his brother.

“But Father-”

“That is all we shall speak on the matter,” King Velor spoke harshly, and Zale quickly closed his mouth and nodded. Velor met Kadyn’s gaze. “You had something to say, brother.”

Kadyn snapped out of it and shook it off himself before looking down at his papers and adjusting his reading glasses. “Yes, it was on the matter of Kestva…”

“Kestva was attacked, Kadyn, our present Red has informed us.”

Kadyn looked up at Atlas again and squinted. “Red? But she is wearing green?”

“So, she doesn’t look like a Blood, do keep up Kadyn,” King Velor chuckles and Kadyn tries to chuckle as well before he turns to Velor again. “Perhaps we should send our guests to rest, I am sure they have had long journeys. And I need to speak with you privately, brother.”

Velor hummed. “One moment. I would like to question the Elf.” Altair looked up as he was mentioned, his glare at the King made Atlas’s heart want to jump out of her chest and land on the floor where it would stop beating. “Elf, I was curious, whose castle is grander? The Queen of Elves or mine?” Velor’s smile grew and it confused Atlas on how this question even mattered but the look on Altair’s face let Atlas know it was of great offense. And the look on Velor’s face let Atlas know that he knew it.

“The architecture in Sylvisa is unparalleled. I would have to say my Mother’s castle is grander, but I might be a little biased as it is my home, King Velor,” Altair said, and Atlas was surprised at how respectful his tone was. Velor hmphed before dismissing us with a wave, he seemed disappointed with Altair’s reaction, but Zale quickly led us away.

The Atlas realized something else, she looked at Altair with her brows drawn together. “Your mother’s?”

“Yes… The Queen. I am Altair Ember of the Seventh Order of Assassins, youngest Heir to Queen Zenevieva,” Altair says nonchalantly like Atlas was already supposed to know. “Did no one mention that?”

The doors shut behind them and Atlas responded. “No! No one mentioned that small detail!”

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