I write this by firelight. Behind me, my home burns. The great city, once the pinnacle of human achievement, is ashes now, a massive grave.
***
Caravan guards never expect an attack from above.
The thing swooped down silently, slamming into the rusted plate armor of the guard, crushing his chest. His two friends wheeled about, swords glinting in the moonlight. "Kazzim!" one of them shouted in disbelief and shock. "You'll pay for this!" he roared at the opponent. And then he noticed the horns jutting out from the hood of the assailant. "A...a demon?" he said, shocked. He didn't know that they wore cloaks. But what else could it be?
The figure paused, thin hunting knife stained in blood. The caravan, meanwhile, stopped, creaking ever so slightly as someone moved inside. The thing looked at the caravan, cloak rustling in the wind, before turning back toward the guards. The moonlight revealed a vague shape. The trees obscured too much of its light.
"Intruder!" one of them screamed with a forward thrust of his sword. The thing leaped to the side before another slice of the hunting blade let the night taste death and tainted the air with the iron scent of blood.
The other man whirled with his blade, eager to spill this creature's blood. "Quick! Kill it!" the guard shouted, anger giving him the fire to kill, fear giving his reflexes an edge.
The creature leaped onto the caravan. "I'm the monster?" it said, with a hint of humor. "I'm a monster on the outside." He chuckled. "I mean, the scales and horns are kind of frightening," the thing said.
"Now, you, however," the creature said, "are the real monsters. I know what these caravans carry. The families you people ruin...now that's monstrous. It's why you travel at night, isn't it? So no one sees you. You move from town to town, like a plague, slipping in, then out." He looked down at the caravan. "In my mind, it's a public service to kill you all." He held up one clawed hand. "I have a special place in my heart for kidnappers." His hand began to steam, the talons glowing a cherry red. "And it's not a very nice place."
The light from its claws illuminated it, if only for a second. The thing had a human-shaped chest, though a stripe down the front was covered with platelike scales where human hair would have grown. It had the lean musculature and grace of a deadly predator. But the face was what was scary.
There was a thin line of scales that went down from the center of his bottom lip, down his throat, before tapering off to a point right at the hollow at the base of the neck. Thinner stripes of scales did the same around the mouth, before tapering off halfway down the neck. The mouth led up to a flattish snoutlike nose, but it was the eyes that scared them. They had intelligence. This was no demon. This was a rational, thinking creature. One with amber eyes. Human eyes. A Changed.
But there was only one kind of Changed it could be. One person, known throughout the Kingdom of Alberion, known outside by legends and rumors. All the Rangers had legends about them. But he was one of the more notorious. Not the most, but pretty high up there. The guard stared as the Fever Blood Ranger, the infamous monster named Laidu, prepared to strike.
The figure leaped, and slammed into the guard again, knocking the sword away, and shoved the now-steaming hand into the guard's face. The guard, of course, did the most sensible thing; he screamed.
The driver jumped off the caravan front with a wickedly curved dagger in a white-knuckle grip. The man in Laidu's hand slumped to the ground, his face a charred mess. The horses surged and screamed, and the ties on their harnesses snapped. They galloped off, desperate to flee. They smelled a dragon, and the scent of such a dangerous predator would make any animal run.
The creature paused. Then, he walked towards the terrified man, and grabbed him with his now cold hand. The driver didn't even have time to react. The thing slammed the driver into the side of the caravan, and with a twist of the thing's powerful biceps, he broke the man's neck.
"Bloody monster..." the man cursed, trying to move away. It should have been easy to do this job. But no. The girl had to fight back, and now, even after she was pacified and bound, they were still doomed for failure. The Fever Blood Ranger paced behind him.
"How many times do I have to explain this?" The Ranger picked the man up by the scruff of his armor, looking at the mess of burning flesh on his face. He held his index and middle finger out. hands heating up. He stuck the two fingers out. "You're trespassing on Alberion ground, you're kidnapping girls, and you've probably done who-knows-what to them. And crimes like that," he said, pushing the guard against the caravan side, "are the kinds of crimes we're told to kill on sight for." He slammed the fingers through the man's throat.
He breathed out, one last gurgling breath. And then, darkness fell.
***
The body sank to the ground as Laidu took a deep breath. Ugh. He hated slave traders. He never really knew why, but it was probably something in his distant past, beyond what he remembered. Anything past the day he awoke with his current body was lost to him. Or, maybe it was his stint in a salt pit. Could be anything.
But hey, being half dragon wasn't all that bad.
He drew one of the guards swords. Fine steel, there. He was about to go to the caravan, before he buckled the baldric around his chest. It rubbed against his scales a bit, and it was obviously new, stiff leather. But still, it was good quality.
He stalked over to the caravan. The back doors were locked, but the wood was rather flimsy. Laidu kicked it, the impact jarring his leg. But he heard the snap, and saw the wood splinter. Perfect.
Laidu yanked the door open, and stared. Normally, he saw the wide-eyed, dirt-smudged faces of girls bound for the Eastern Desert, presumably for some rich lord to add to his collection of concubines. Instead, he saw a swath of satin, and mage-glyphs painted in something dark and red, around a girl's unconscious body.
He leaned down towards the girl's mouth, feeling warmth. Good. She was breathing. He took his hand, and let it gather heat. Laidu always wondered about that. He was half dragon, but he was incapable of breathing fire. Even so, his heating ability came in handy. He scratched the mage-glyphs, watching the smoke come up with slow, lazy curls. A hint of it slipped in his nostrils, and his eyes narrowed. It smelled metallic. Blood.
They had drawn a mage-circle in the girl's own blood. Laidu noticed the bandage on her arm, obscured by her dark hair. Who was she? She seemed familiar, but Laidu couldn't place her face. Hmm. Whoever she was, she could use a rescue.
The mage-glyphs properly desecrated, Laidu went to pick her up, before an idea entered his head. The girl wasn't in any immediate danger, and Laidu wanted to send a message. The whoresons who kidnapped her should know what they had coming if they stepped foot in his forests.
He held out his hand, and activated the Fever Blood.
It felt as if every vein in his arm had come alight with energy. That energy soaked his flesh, bathing every scale in red-hot fire. He had always been able to do it, ever since he could remember. He was always able to do it, but the control had come later.
Now, it was time to send a message.
Doubtless, the Ajandi would be back. He placed a cherry-red claw on the side of the caravan, and heard the familiar sizzle as his finger scorched the wood black. He slowly, almost leisurely, wrote out a tiny little warning, promising death and pain and agony to any who entered the woods with the intention of harm. It was in Ajandi, of course, though Laidu doubted that even half the soldiers would know how to read it. To add to this effect, Laidu picked up the corpses and sat them down under the message. There. Even the illiterate Ajandi scumbags could understand that.
He returned to the girl at the back. She didn't move. Gently, he picked her up. Her head sank back, her hair hanging down. She was older, now he looked at her, maybe twenty. She was still youthful, still beautiful. Laidu cradled her head, and heard something. Voices, echoing through the night mists, no more than mere vapors themselves.
He stopped and listened. "...bloody men and bloody monsters in these woods, I tell you." The voice had the same faint accent as the slavers. And, more incriminatingly, it spoke the same language. Well, blood and thorns! That made things much worse.
The girl didn't even stir. Laidu clutched her close to him, wrapping the loose cloth closer to her body, and ran. Her weight didn't slow him down at all; his training made sure of that.
He bounded through the forest, the autumn mist slightly chilly against him. Laidu never got cold. But, after a few minutes, he felt the girl shake, shivering. Right. Normal humans got cold. He forgot about that a lot.
He saw the cave, a small crag in the cliffside. Perfect. He slowed, and gently placed the girl down on the ground. She shivered violently. Laidu sat her up, wrapped his cloak around them both, and slowly heated up. Barely anything, but still, it eased the cold of the chill night. The girl's shivering slowed, and she slept calmly.
He didn't dare make a fire. If those men saw a light...he'd killed the others in an ambush, and he doubted he could take on all of them at once, and still keep the girl safe. Best to lay low. No one but a ranger or a lunatic stayed in these woods at daytime.
He heard the water faintly in the distance. Good. He grabbed the jug in his pack, and left the girl wrapped up in his warm cloak.
The sword was still strapped to his bare, scaly chest. He rolled his neck, and exhaled, his breath misting out. He'd get some water, and return to the girl. Maybe make her some tea. She needed comfort. Especially after the trauma she had to have gone through.
He saw the stream, and knelt down, enjoying the chill air on his back. The scales weren't as sensitive as skin, he remembered that much, but they felt something. He didn't feel cold, but he felt cool.
The burbling stream flowed into his jug, and he capped it. Good. Some water for them both. He ran with the jug, back to the cave. The girl still slept peacefully.
He sighed, and leaned back on the cold stone wall. Who were those people? Normal Ajandi kidnappers didn't speak the Alberion language that well. He shrugged, and then heard her shiver. "Ugh..." she said in a soft voice, barely more than a whisper.
"You're awake!" Laidu said, excited but keeping his voice low. "Just, be quiet."
She nodded, eyes wide in surprise and a hint of terror. "W...who are you?" she asked nervously. She studied his scaly skin, his tall horns, his sharp claws, and his caring eyes. Laidu didn't mind. He drew stares; that was something he couldn't deny.
But the way she stared at him was different from all of the other times. Her eyes studied him, dancing from his worn boots and black, baggy field trousers to the leather bandolier at his chest. She studied his form, his clawed hands, his scaly chest, and his horns, the thin lines of scales that traced lines down his jawline and throat. She took in the amber eyes, the kind, yet determined eyes. She took in all the tiny details.
She was not afraid. The girl -a young woman, really- had a fire in her eyes.
"No one major." Laidu shrugged. "I just...sort of, well, intervened with your little predicament." He paused. "My name is Laidu." It was an odd name, a foreign name. But he was an odd man.
The girl raised her eyebrows, confused. "So...you saved me?"
"Well, yeah," Laidu said sheepishly. He wasn't used to talking like that. He wasn't a hero; he just did what was right. And he had an absolute hatred of slave traders.
"Oh, that's nice." She turned to look out the mouth of the cave, shivering slightly. "Not to sound ungrateful, but can you start a fire? It's kind of cold."
Laidu shook his head, making sure his horns didn't scrape against the roof of the cave. "There seem to be people still after you." He paused for a moment, then grabbed the jug of water. "Let me get you something to drink. Something warm. It's not as good as a fire, but it's the best we can do." He held the jug in his hand, and focused. Soon, some light steam drifted out, and the girl stared, wide-eyed.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"I'm part dragon," he said. He poured a cup and dropped a few tea leaves into it. "It comes with the deal." The girl nodded, eyes wide, and accepted the cup. She held it close to her, breathing in the vapors.
"Well, that's kind of obvious." She paused, the look in her eyes telling Laidu a terrible idea had entered her head. "You...you're not going to eat me or anything, are you?" the girl asked.
"Now why would I do such a thing?" Laidu asked, almost offended. He sipped his tea, before giving her a flat stare.
"Sorry." She sighed. "I wasn't thinking." Not surprising, though. There were rumors that the Changed were simply animals that had overtaken humans, and while they were smart, the rumors said that they hungered for human flesh. And, like most rumors, it was completely wrong. But unfortunately, like most rumors, people believed it anyway.
They sat there for a while, in the dark. Laidu relaxed, and watched the girl sip the tea. Finally, he broke the cold and dark silence. "Who are you? Why do they want you?"
The girl was silent. Her dark eyes were distant. "I...I don't know," she said. "Something about the ...I don't remember." It looked like she didn't want to remember. She shivered slightly. "It's cold," she said.
Laidu rose and sat down next to her. "Here, let me help." He put his arm around her, and she flinched at his touch. "No, don't worry, I won't hurt you," he said gently. Dear God, what did they do to her? She nodded, and leaned back, not flinching at the arm.
Slowly, he heated himself up, letting the warmth spread down his arm. The girl smiled and leaned in. "Thanks," she said. Then, she stopped, fear present in her eyes, her face, the entire sense of her. "Shouldn't we move?" she asked.
Laidu shook his head. "There are others out there. Looking for you. I wouldn't want to go out there now. I can track an enemy...not ten. Not at once. Especially not if they're trying to find you."
"But isn't this the Redleaf Forest?" the girl asked. She was panicking.
"Yes." Laidu was quiet. "Do you recognize what you're using as a blanket?"
She looked down at the rumpled up fabric they were sharing. "A... cloak."
"Do you recognize the cloak?" It looked like it had been stained a hundred hues of grey and brown and green and amber. Well, the three brown spots in the amber were actual stains; someone had startled him and he had spilled some coffee on them.
"No...it looks kind of like a jester's cloak, but with bad color."
"It's a Ranger's cloak. My official badge." He smiled, which, despite what one might think, looked warm and kind on his face. Not cold and cruel. "And, as a Ranger, I know how to move through the forest by day."
"Even with the Day Specters?" the girl asked. Laidu nodded. "Oh. Okay." She shifted. "I'm going to try to get some sleep..." she said, moving out from under Laidu's arm. "Thanks for the heat, I guess." She leaned back, her hair brushing against the cave wall, taking the entire cloak. Laidu didn't mind. He didn't need it to keep warm.
Laidu stood up, still bent over, and the girl looked at him. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"Nowhere," he said. "Just making sure we aren't followed."
"Oh, okay..." the girl said. "Just don't leave me." She gave a small laugh. "Not like...you know... I just don't want to be alone." She sighed.
Laidu turned back from the cave's opening, before bending his knees, sitting on his haunches, in front of the girl. She stared at him, eyes wide. "What's your name?" Laidu asked.
The girl hesitated. "Kyra."
"Well, look, Kyra," he said. Oddly enough, the name sounded familiar too. "I promise that I won't leave you. You're my charge, now. I rescued you from slave traders. I'm not going to just abandon you now!" He sat down across from her, resting his arms on his knees. "Rest easy."
Kyra nodded, then gave a small smile. "Thanks." She leaned her head back. "I always wanted to see the country," she said.
"Not like this, I'm guessing." Laidu gave a short laugh. Kyra added a chuckle or two, a bit higher than the ones that rumbled in Laidu's chest. But even her laughter was hollow.
Kyra exhaled loudly. "Thanks for staying with me," she said. "I don't think I can wake up alone. That...well, that's how I woke up. Alone, tied down by that magic." She stared out with hollow eyes.
Laidu moved over so he sat next to her, leaning against the wall of the cave, between her and the entrance. It hurt him to see someone this... empty. She seemed like she had battleshock, if anything. "Well, don't worry. I'll be right here next to you."
Kyra smiled, and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly, before closing her eyes. Wrapped in Laidu's cloak, she finally, blessedly, fell asleep.