The wind changed.
I felt it before I heard it; the absence more than a sound. A stillness where the forest should've sung. I paused mid-step, my boots half-sunk in the damp earth of the hillside trail. The same path I'd walked every morning for decades suddenly felt... off-balance.
I adjusted the brim of my wide-brimmed hat and lifted my gaze, following the tree line as I turned to scan behind me. I leaned left, then right, checking different angles around the trees.
Nothing. Just mist, shadows, and the subtle sway of leaves. The stillness of the forest animals was unnerving. That uneasy feeling crept back in. Like breath against my neck, it made the hairs on my arms stand up. I could feel it; the presence. I wasn't alone.
I tightened my grip on the staff. Though I used it for walking, I could wield it to defend myself if it came to it. My fingers found the notches carved into the wood, marks left from years of practicing sword dance.
Each one told a story: a ritual, a wound, a vow.
The staff had been a gift from Sigmon, on my twenty-fifth birthday. It was right after I took part in the Roka the same day I climbed the Al'besh Tower with my grandmother, Kelonna.
Sigmon had waited at the summit, eyes bright with pride. I could still see him standing tall in his black and gray robes, the breeze moving the fabric so the silver smoke curls along the hem danced. His smile had been soft, lips parted slightly. In truth, Somenaco had inherited that same smile.
I swore to serve as a Guardian that day, and Sigmon swore to walk beside me.
He had been my rock, now he was gone. I felt the warming of my soul thinking about he. My eyes heavy with emotions the a tear broke free and rolled down my cheek. Looking up to the sky, taking a deep breath, maybe a ghost had followed me today.
I continued up the trail. It opened ahead, revealing a hillside blanketed in golds and greens. Wildflowers nodded in the breeze, undisturbed by my stillness. Below the cliff's edge, the world stretched into layers of blue-green ridgelines, fading into the clouds.
I made my way to what we called the stairs really just rock outcroppings that led to the cliff ledge. The edge had a rock wall, maybe three stones high. The ledge itself stretched about ten feet before the mountain lifted again, covered in trees and grass.
I strolled to the rock wall and took a breath, closing my eyes as the breeze brushed against my skin. Loose hairs, caught up by the wind, caressed my cheek.
I felt the presence again. I waited for it to make itself known. It would not find me afraid today. The cliff greeted me like an old friend.
Here, the wind always smelled of sky with a hint of pine. Of memories of teaching Elena the sword dance, Picnic with Sigmon, and star gazing with Noella. The spot where life happened: training sessions, falling in love, and mourning loss.
I stepped back from the rock wall and turned to face the outcropping. This was the sacred place, my place.
There stood the stone bench Sigmon had built for me after the wooden broke. I padded to it, running my fingers along its surface as I passed, worn smooth with time and weather. He had shaped it with his own hands, carving protective runes into it. Some runes remained visible, others were worn away.
He would work on it while I dozed nearby in the sun after our Ashday picnics.
I could still feel him here, in the earth beneath my soles. I paused at the center of the outcropping. Let the wind tug gently at my sleeves. Closed my eyes.
He would've known what to do. There were so many questions about the bonds we shared. Somenaco, he just didn't have the same feeling. We had lived together for five years, yet the bond between us was still only a sliver of what it had been with Sigmon.
A whisper on the breeze. Sigmon always had the answers.
Then... I felt it again.
Not the wind. Not memory. Something else.
I opened my eyes slowly, gazing toward the tree line at the edge of the clearing. The shadows had thickened. Mist curled low, hugging the ground. The birds were silent.
"Sigmon," I whispered.
Then there was a laugh, low and mocking. Like stone cracking in fire.
"Sigmon's dead," came the voice, raspy and cruel. "Don't you remember? You're the reason he was executed."
I turned toward the sound, planting my feet. As figure stepped from the trees.
Flaming red hair, braided tightly into a crown atop her head before falling down her back. Eyes like molten iron, golden orange.
Wings unfurled behind her, dark rusty red in colored, leathery and opened wide like a banner. As a show of force or intimidation, I'm not scared of them, Never have been and never will be.
Her cloak, matching the wings in color, split in the breeze, revealing crisp white linen tucked into leather slacks. No armor To be fair it's not like she needed it. She was the threat.
The red dragoness smiled, teeth like blades. "I thought the great Deanna Sligic would've had guards." She nodded her head so as to look right then left, "Or as you call them guardians" she said with hiss.
I rolled my shoulders and tilted my head, staff held loosely in my hand. "I don't need guards," I said, authority in my voice. "I've taken on your kind before without issue."
The dragoness began to circle lazily, boots crunching dry leaves as she neared the cliff's edge.
"Still dramatic, I see. No wonder humans adore you. All that poetry you write." I said would flair as I held my posture. "And besides, here I thought red dragons preferred fire to verse."
"Oh, we do," the dragoness said, grin widening. "But, I like knowing the last words of the people I kill."
I shifted my stance subtly, reading myself for the attack I know is coming. "You've come far," I said flatly. "So get to the point."
"We warned you," the dragoness hissed through her teeth. "The Wynn don't forget betrayal."
I narrowed my eyes. "Wanting peace is not betrayal."
"You thought humans had a choice. That's cute. You're a weak, powerless species," she hissed.
Little does she know about human powers. I tightened my grip on the staff, studying her feet for a moment.
The cliff wind pulled at my hat, lifting it from my head. I was glad I had braided my hair this morning. The breeze teased the loose strands against my neck and the side of my face.
I did not take my eyes off the dragoness. "I won't run," I said, holding my tone steady. For the first time, I placed my other hand on the staff and softened my knees.
"Oh," the dragoness purred. "I'm counting on that." Her wings flared wider and the air ignited.
The dragoness moved her hand, and a flame flickered to life.
I raised my brows, unable to contain my surprise. Reds couldn't call fire unless there was already an open flame.
A flick of her fingers on the opposite hand and fire leapt from one hand into the other, like an eager pet curling around her knuckles with a hiss.
The heat warped the air, bleaching the color from the stones beneath her boots.
She didn't speak again. She didn't need to. I know what this means Sigmon had told me stories. This was stolen powers.
I exhaled slowly, controlling my breathing, slow and steady. I shifted my weight back, one foot sliding into position. The energy, I could feel it being pulled from the air.
On instinct, I dropped to the ground. A burst of flame erupted above my prone body, fast and wide. I rolled onto my back, flung my legs over, and flipped up to my feet.
As my eyes caught another fireball racing toward me, I spun sideways and dropped low beneath the wave. Using the staff, I swept it across the ground in a defensive arc, scattering scorched leaves.
Then I sprang upward in a tight twist, using the momentum to drive a kick toward the red's chest.
The dragoness was in the middle of calling forth another fireball when both my feet connected with her chest. The force sent her flying backward.
Her wings snapped open, catching the air and preventing her from falling.
"Good," she hissed. "I'm going to enjoy this."
I landed and found my balance again, ready. But I didn't engage in her banter. Instead, I went on the offensive. I wouldn't give her time to summon another fireball. Lunging forward, thrusting the staff toward her chin.
She moved to deflect the strike, but I swept the bottom of the staff low, striking at her knee.
The dragoness blocked the head strike, but she wasn't fast enough to prevent the lower sweep. The staff connected solidly.
I started varying the height of my sweeping strikes, refusing to be predictable. The dragoness deflected one. Two. The third jab contented clean against her ribs.
She coughed and stumbled. I seized the opening, pivoted behind her, and swept out her legs.
The red dragoness hit the ground, rolled, and came up spitting blood. Then her eyes glowed, and she breathed fire toward me.
Jump tuck and rolled out of the way she missed. The heat grazed my side, blistering the air where I had stood.
The power, the energy, the magic was unnatural. It was wild, hungry. Too wild for trained magic. The dragoness wasn't conjuring magic, she was channeling it. This was blood magic.
The kind that left scars on the world. The fire came fast this time, more like a whip than a wave.
I sprinted for the stone bench, stepped up, and launched myself over the first arc of flame. I twisted midair and planted my feet as I landed. A move I'd practiced here many times over the years.
The dragoness began channeling again. Determined not to let her finish, I charged. Using the staff, I pole vaulted myself forward, feet together, straight into her chest. The impact sounded like thunder.
The dragoness was thrown back, crashing through the underbrush and slamming into a tree trunk cracking the bark be hide her.
She slid down the trunk, coughing and laughing.
"You've still got bite," she wheezed. "But let's see how long you last."
I landed in a crouch, one hand pressed to the earth. I was breathing hard now. My shoulder already ached. Keeping my voice level, I stared her down. "I'm not the one who chose to take on a Guardian alone today."
The red's smirk widened. "I didn't say I came alone." Branches rustled behind the dragoness. She was laughing now as one figure stepped into view. Then two and then three. All red dragons. Claws and wings unfurled.
Their eyes glowed with that same twisted shimmer, too bright. Whatever magic pulsed through their veins, it wasn't theirs. They fanned out behind their leader in a loose crescent. Boots scraped the earth, as one flex his claws, knuckles cracking. Another cracked his neck, slow and casual, like this was just another job.
I shifted, putting the cliff wall to my back. I wasn't running and I wasn't going down without a fight. I tapped my staff once against the stone. "I don't want to kill you," I said, voice calm. "But I will if I have to."
The red-haired woman tilted her head, smirking like a predator with nowhere else to be. "Oh, my dear Guardian," she purred. "We're not here to pass the time." She unsheathed twin knives from behind her belt. "We're here to end your bloodline."
The male on my far right charged first. I pulled energy into my soul, and moved like the breath of the breeze across the cliff.
I pivoted, sidestepped with ease, and cracked my staff across his knees, once, then twice before jabbing him in the throat. He went down choking, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
"For being dragons, you Reds are the least graceful of the bunch," I said with a snarky smirk.
The second came in from the left, blade high. I ducked low, spun beneath the slash, and drove my elbow into his ribs.
My staff caught the edge of his wrist, snapping the weapon from his grip, then whirled in a dizzying arc, crack, across his temple. He was out before he hit the dirt.
"Two down," I muttered, breath steady, eyes sharp. The third hesitated. Looked to the dragoness. "Do it," she snapped. He charge leaping into the air. I leapt into the air meeting him midair. We collided in a blur of limbs and snarls, hitting the ground and rolling across the grass.
His claws raked my face. I felt the blood and smelled the copper. I blocked with my forearm, grunting instead of crying out. I wouldn't show weakness. Fabric tore from my shirt as I twisted beneath him, planting my foot over his leg. Using my hips, I thrust him off me.
As we flipped, I drove my knee into his stomach. He gasped, but used raw strength to throw me into the stone pile Sigmon had built long ago. I landed hard. Grabbed a stone. Channeled my strength through it, smashing it into his face. He hit the ground with a crunch and didn't rise.
I climbed to my feet. My breathing was ragged. Blood ran down my face. My shoulder burned. But I was still standing. "That just leaves you," I said, picking up my staff and pointing it in her direction.
The red-haired dragoness stepped forward slowly, clapping.
"Well done. Truly, your legends don't do you justice." Then her voice dropped, low and cruel. "But you forgot to look up."
My eyes snapped upward, but too late. A shadow dropped from the cliff wall like a stone. A full-blooded red dragon in full shift, claws, fangs, wings. His scales were dark mahogany with a red tint.
He stood nearly thirty feet tall. There was no way he could land on the ledge. His tail struck. I went flying into the cliff wall like a landslide. My staff flew from my hands. The impact cracked the stone and dislocated my shoulder. The breath ripped from my lungs. I slammed into the earth, ribs exploding with pain. My vision blurred.
I screamed through the bond: Somenaco!
The dragon's landed on me, that weight crushing me. His claw wrapped around my body like a vice, pinning me with inhuman strength. I struggled, teeth gritted, one leg kicking hard, but I barely shifted his grasp.
The red-haired dragoness strutted forward slow. Slow and drawn out triumphant strut and kneel next to me. "Well, well, well" she purred. "Wasn't that fun." with her hand she seized me by my throat, and yanked me upright like a rag doll. My feet dangled inches off the ground.
"Where is the sword?" she snarled, eyes blazing. "More importantly, where is the girl?"
I stayed silent. I would take that knowledge to the grave. Blood dripped from my lip. My arms were still numb from the impact. The dragoness slammed me into the wall, smack, smack, smack.
She was toying with me like a cat plays with its food. Then she dragged me toward the cliff's edge, step by step. She lifted me by my neck again, locking eyes with me.
"Somenaco is not coming to save you, Deanna."
Still, I said nothing. I called across the bond. Somenaco... I felt it a spark but I knew it is to faint and then it was gone.
The dragoness yanked me higher. Our faces were inches apart. "Where is the sword?" Her breath was laced with hatred and sulfur.
I spit in her face.
Her eyes flared orange and gold and yellow flecks swirling. I could feel her power wrapping around my body like chains. She pulled me closer, her mouth brushing my ear. "Your guardian line dies with you," she whispered.
And with one brutal motion she hurled me over the edge.