The Dragon Realms Saga

Essie wiped her bloodied hands with a rag and looked at Mave. “He’ll live, but he needs to rest. I think it's obvious that we all need rest.”

Mave nodded and stole a glance at the unconscious body of Elucard then back to Essie. “And the runecloth?”

Essie bowed her head. “No more safety net, Captain. I used my last runecloth bandage on Elucard.”

Mave bit her lip and looked to the clouds. The wind blew hard and the rain poured heavily. There was no sign of the weather letting up. Without shelter, her injured men could gain a fever and not last the night.

She took a count of her squad. Elucard, Quinn, Timber, and Corso were wounded, two of them too injured to walk. Essie was tending to them. Only Bruce, Kyzo, Elisa, and herself were mobile and able to protect themselves. She needed someone to scout out a nearby forest for shelter.

She turned to Kyzo. She liked the enthusiasm the boy had and he’d proved his courage time and time again to them. He would make the best choice to find somewhere to rest, while Elisa and Bruce stayed back to protect the others.

“Kyzo!” shouted Mave. She waited for him to snap to attention. “Scout out the woods ahead, find some form of shelter, whether it be a cave or an abandoned structure. Find us something, and find it fast!”

Kyzo threw a smart salute. “You can count on me, Captain!”

Mave grinned. “I know I can. Now hop to it, private!”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Kyzo. With that, he darted as quickly as a diving falcon into the woods.

***

Not long after he left his companions, Kyzo stumbled onto an old road. He examined it to the best of his ability, and although he was sufficient in reading tracks, he was no Timber. The trail was wide and worn. The rain made it difficult to see any distinct animal tracks, but he was sure he deciphered the grooves of wagon wheels. This was definitely not a game trail. Someone’s dwelling was nearby, he was sure of it. Perhaps they would help him, but in the worst case scenario, he would force them to help him. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Kyzo followed the road for a mile, maybe two, before he spotted a soft glow in the dark forest and the scent of a simmering beef stew hung in the air. His stomach growled; a week of military rations couldn’t compare to a warm homemade meal and a soft bed to let his full belly rest. Maybe the house had a flute or a mandolin to play an elven song. The closer he walked to the cabin, the more he mused of a night’s rest in a cozy tavern back home in Lost Dawns. He had not seen his beloved elder tree in weeks and he had grown homesick. The excitement of war had worn its welcome and he no longer looked forward to regaling his friends with adventures and stories of his many exploits on the backs of dragons.

Not that he wasn’t happy when he learned to ride them, but he missed sitting beside his master on the clocktower. Perhaps a simpler life was more desirable than an exciting one.

He shook his head. Nothing was simple about being an Anti-Rogue Operative, but it was much easier than leaping off the back of a flying serpent a mile from the ground.

The log cabin was now in view and Kyzo made sure to be out of sight. Creeping to the side of the cottage, he peered in from the edge of the window. Inside he saw an elderly couple sitting down for supper. He pulled up his hood to hide his elven ears and headed to the door.

What would be his story? He was in the muddy and ragged uniform of someone from the Cypress Alliance. He bore the flag of Long Whisper for goodness sake. No one would take him in while he was behind enemy lines! But he was already so deep into the woods and he saw no better option for shelter. He would need to take them hostage. Just for a couple nights, no one would need to get hurt.

He grit his teeth. Yes, as long as no one got hurt. They were old and innocent, they weren’t enemy soldiers—they weren’t enemies at all, just a civilian couple in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Kyzo rapped at the door. He took a deep breath and waited for a kind, elderly woman to open the door. She was short and round, wearing a white blouse and long blue dress. A decorated apron with small ducks and rose petals was tied over her clothing. She had welcoming eyes. She seemed more good-hearted than the Estinians he killed in the past weeks.

He looked up, attempting to look as helpless and innocent as she was. He was not ready to be her captor yet. He would take his chances with them to understand his situation and housing their enemies out of sympathy. After all, it would only be two nights tops.

“Percilla, who’s at the door?” came a gruff, wheezing voice from behind her.

“It’s a boy, Martin. He’s soaked to the bone!” Percilla wrapped her arm around Kyzo and ushered him inside. “Come now, dearie. You look famished. Eat a bowl of stew and varm yourself by the fire.”

There was that accent. The same one that all the soldiers used. He had never heard anyone say any words of kindness in it until now. Kyzo gave a meek smile and sat in a chair across from Martin. The old man’s face was bony, his shriveled features nearly covered by a large bushy beard. It was gray as Mave’s fur, but probably not as soft. His beady eyes stared suspiciously at Kyzo as the boy slurped down his food.

The cabin inside was small, cramped with trinkets and furniture. Antique memories collected from a lifetime of a shared life. However, what caught Kyzo’s attention was a ceremonial silver saber. It had a polished gold guard, with a decorative engraving of a raven. A white leather wrapped hilt finished the sword. All in all, it was a very handsome weapon that could be appreciated by both amateurs and true swordsmen.

“You can quit your gawking, boy. You are not taking home that sword!” growled Martin.

“I was only appreciating the fine craftsmanship, sir,” Kyzo explained.

Percilla poured Kyzo another helping of the hot beef stew. “Now, now, Martin. Behave yourself.” She draped a comfy wool blanket over Kyzo. “You’ll have to excuse Martin, he isn’t used to having guests.”

Kyzo ducked his head down and let the vapors from his bowl steam his face.

“Are you a soldier, child? You seem too young to be fighting for our kingdom,” Percilla asked.

“I-I…” Kyzo searched for an answer. Taking them hostage still floated in his mind. “I-I am a scout—no— runner. My squad was attacked not too far from here and I’ve been sent out to find shelter.” Not a complete lie.

“You poor soul. Vell they are velcome to our humble home, isn’t that right, Martin?”

“Vhat unit did you say you vere from, boy?” questioned Martin. He attempted to get a better look at Kyzo, but the elf continued to keep his head down.

“I-I didn’t say… it’s classified, sir.”

“Classified, my foot!” Martin abruptly stood up, knocking over his chair. “I am Martin Clawhoven! Lieutenant of the 2nd Infantry Division, retired but not senile, and if I’m not mistaken…” Despite his age, Martin dashed around the table and yanked down Kyzo’s hood revealing his pointed ears. “You are an elf! Vhat self respecting Estinian vould be born vith red eyes, Percilla?”

Kyzo leaped to his feet and threw up his hands. “Please, sir, I don’t want any trouble. My squad is in no condition to travel, we need a place to rest— just for the night! We mean you no harm and then we’ll be gone!”

Martin raced to the mantle and grabbed his saber off the wall. “Percilla, he’s a rotten liar! He came here to rescue that pathetic king of his!” Martin flailed his saber in the air with each vile word.

“Oh, Martin, ve have an elf in our home! How horrifying!” Percilla shrieked.

Kyzo gripped his sword but did not unsheath it. “Martin, Percilla, I mean it, I will use force to defend myself, but I don’t want to.” Kyzo shuffled closer and closer to Martin. “Please, my companions just need a bit of rest, maybe a bite to eat, then we will be on our way.”

“Not in my life, you treehouse living savage!” Martin roared before charging the blade first into Kyzo.

With skills beyond his years, Kyzo drew his sword and parried the oncoming blade. Within an instant, he sunk his ninjato deep into Martin’s chest.

Precilla let out a scream of terror, before grabbing a kitchen knife from the counter. She swung wildly at Kyzo, but to no avail. A clean cut to her neck, left her gurgling blood and falling into a heap across Martin’s body.

Kyzo dropped his sword. His hands trembled as he fell to his knees.

They didn’t have to die. Why wouldn’t they listen? None of this needed to happen, none of it!

***

Mave spread the wool blanket over the dining table and laid Quinn on top. Elisa and Bruce dragged Martin and Precilla’s bodies to the shed around the back of the cottage. Corso changed Timber’s bandages and Essie tended to Quinn’s welts and bruises.

Kyzo stood outside against the cabin. He played out the scene in his head a thousand times. What could he have done differently? If he took them by force, he could have tied them up or locked them in the shed. Either way they would still be alive and he wouldn’t have murdered an elderly couple in cold blood.

Elucard limped outside to meet his apprentice and leaned against the cabin, gingerly touching his neck.

“You… did the right… thing, Kyzo,” Elucard said. It took too great an effort to complete his sentence, despite his healed wound, his body ached and felt tired, as if he never slept a day in his life.

“Yeah? Well it doesn’t feel right,” Kyzo muttered. “I’ve slain dozens of criminals. I don’t gag at the sight of blood, but to kill them?…I didn’t have the stomach for that.”

“Look inside… Kyzo. Those people… in there, they owe you their… lives.”

Kyzo looked away from Elucard, unconvinced.

“Not a single one… of them… judges you…” Elucard took a hold of the boy’s shoulder. “Do not regret… the lives you have saved. We all would have done… what you did… tonight.”

Kyzo faced his master and smiled.

“Get some… sleep… Kyzo, you deserve… it.”

Kyzo stepped into the house and looked around the room. Everyone nodded to him in respect. Kyzo grinned. He climbed the ladder to the loft and collapsed in the soft bed.