At the child’s very bold declaration, Cain was taken slightly aback. Given the lumps he’d suffered already at the hands of the little beast he was hesitant to do something that may set the child off. Not that Cain was particularly terrified of him; he was simply determined to bring Valrún back in one piece and not twelve. The longer they continued to play this game the more opportunities to end in blood shed on either side. The easiest option, of course, was to render the boy unconscious and the longer he considered that fact the more he wanted to do just that.
“Well, I suppose you don’t need your Achilles tendons. Why don’t I just snip those off and we can all see how fast you run then.” Cain retorted.
“Don’t be brash.” Arylyana said. “I will carry him in my claws. You can’t ride. Not with that leg anyway.”
Cain wanted to protest but knew he could not. It was easier to save his words.
In the flash of a moment, the iron grasp on Valrún’s shoulder was replaced by the armored scales of the dragon claw. With Valrún trapped in one palm and scooping Cain into the other, the dragoness caught the first current of air beneath the fans of her face. Into the atmosphere they shot like a bullet.
So fast was the explosion of energy, Cain’s breath was momentarily sucked from his chest. He felt the comfort of being trapped within the slender fingers of Arylyana’s dragon form. The rough scales cradled him against her pearly white belly. The grip was tight enough so his leg was not jostled but at the same time he could still move and check the progress of their flight if necessary. He was sure such tender care was not being afforded to the boy.
Valor Point was a small clearing in the midst of the Bialowieza Forest which lay along the border of Belarus and Poland. Since the middle of the fourteenth century men and boys alike had challenged their metal against the beasts that dwelled within, testing their fears of the unknown against every beast that bumped in the night. Hiding within the very heart of the forest was the one creature all man sought to conquer: the dragon. To look upon the eyes of the dragon, to challenge it from its home and face the creature head took only the mightiest courage. But simply being courageous did not make one heroic. Even a fool could set his hand in the fire knowing he may be burned and shirking the consequences. Another sort of metal was tested by the dragon of Bialowieza. Valor. To be virtuous, fight on the side of truth and honor, now that was what truly defeated the dragon’s heart. Many men tried and failed in their attempt to win over the creature or claim its head. Only few were worthy to walk out alive and at that, with an ally.
Cain knew he was flying in the talons of the deposed Guardian of Valor. He knew what it meant to her having fresh blood come to her den and be mesmerized by her history. He imagined she was much like the Tooth Fairy in that respect. It didn’t mean he had to like it. If the Mistress found out he allowed this to go on, he knew there would be Hell to pay. Despite the chains he knew bound Arylyana to her Mistress, it only took a single believing heart to give back to her all the strength that once made men emblazon their shields in her honor.
“One believing heart.” Cain whispered to himself. He adjusted his leg in the taloned grip, letting his good one slip through the cradle and dangle in the air. He held his hand against the bleeding portion of his thigh as if to will it to stop on its own. He wasn’t taken to this much internal monologue on the subject of those he captured, but this boy intrigued him in some ways. Was it possible a child born of Death and Fear had a heart at all? He dispelled that thought as nonsense. Of course the boy had a beating, fleshy organ in his chest, but was he capable of emotional feeling like that of a mortal boy?
Cain tightened his gloves on his hands to keep out the cold. Ary was putting all she had into their speed now. The trip to Valor Point was a short one indeed compared to what it might have been should she have decided to take her time. He saw the first brush of the arboreal forest crop up beneath them like the outline on a map. Compared to the utterly flat fields over which they had been flying this was a stark sort of contrast. Full of spirits and wonderment, he trusted her to set them directly into the heart of the forest itself to dispel their progress being hindered by the other spirits and wonders that took refuge beneath the canopy.
He felt her body twist, arcing up like the initial rut-rut-rut of a wooden rollercoaster before gliding directly down. The left fan of her face opened like a sail, whirling her body in a spiral. The first great oak tops rose above them. The winter had stripped most of the leaves away but as yet the snow had not completely covered the point. Given Arylyana was entertaining guests she was not about to tolerate the mass of dead leaves and dregs of black snow left from weeks passed, so before she released the pair from her claws, she bellowed a breath of fire that scorched across the forest floor. The dead leaves were consumed at once and the breath of cold wind that followed finished out the fires before they could harm the oaks. She too was a master of her craft.
Satisfied in the work, the talons opened. Cain was dropped first beside the reflecting pool of water fed from the smallest brook that snaked its way through the forest. He readjusted himself on the ground, taking care to ease his leg toward the water. He didn’t dare touch it, though. He knew better.
Valrún came next. She dropped the boy a distance from the pool, knowing full well there was no place for him to go now. With both of them settled, she returned to her human form. Her focus was first on Valrún.
Her warning was a direct one, full of all the fear she hoped to instill in the boy’s heart. “Now, don’t think you can go and run off. If the wolves do not eat you my dragons will. They do not always listen. If you happened to survive both of those, the bison are mighty defensive. After that there are always the wild boar. Survive all those and you are in the center of 800 kilometers of sheer feral wood and I cannot protect you from all the spirits that do not easily rest here.”
As if hearing the sound of their master’s call, the place called Valor Point became alive. The bones of those long dead remained in their shallow graves. Their bones were infused in the life of the forest, complete with moss, flowers, trees, and shrubs extending from their hollow eyes and open ribs. But around them, from the rusting shields and armor helmets and ancient sword hilts the dragons slowly rose. Little flitting things the length of an arm and sometimes larger uncurled from the carved images of their long dead masters’ metal. Black bantam eyes stared up at the newcomer as forked tongues flicked to taste the air around him. Arylyana shooed some of the too-inquisitive ones from nipping at the boy’s strange clothes before returning to Cain.
“Like she said, boy,” Cain warned. He was paler looking, holding the wound on his leg as if to ease the throbbing. “You are free to wonder here. There is nowhere for you to go. But it is very dangerous. I will present you dead to my Mistress if I must if it is you who is stupid enough to get yourself killed.
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