Echoes of the Dragon Raid
FWOOSH!
Saeran’s arrow flies right by Aemil’s head and strikes a pigeon.
“Careful! You almost shot me,” Aemil caressed his head.
Saeran scoffed, “As if I’d waste an arrow on you.” He walked towards the pigeon on the floor. “I don’t think this is enough for the both of us.”
Aemil crouched beside him to weigh the bird. “No, but if we make a stew, it might… Let’s go.”
Saeran and his older brother, Aemil, were magical beast bounty hunters. They went after any magical beast as long as the client paid for it appropriately. Most bounty hunters nowadays couldn’t make a living, but Saeran and Aemil were famous. They managed to do the impossible—kill a dragon. Many hunters tried and died by this request, the dragons were unkillable until the brother duo brought down one of the Southern Dragons that roamed close to Hang-Deon, the kingdom they mostly served. It was the king of this land, and the lords, that paid handsomely for rare magical creatures. Most magical creatures are on the brink of extinction which is why the payments are rather large. However, Saeran and Aemil still faced the consequences of the small number of hunts.
The lack of magical creatures drove many hunters to other professions or retirement, but for them, it was the only option they had. After losing their parents in a dragon raid, they lost all hope for other lines of work. In Hang-Deon you could only work in the same line as your predecessors. This made things rather complicated, for their parents were fruit vendors, and all their lands burned on the day of the raid. The dragon’s breath left their land scarred and unfruitful.
“Saeran, I met a potential client,” Aemil plucked feathers from the pigeon. He was always looking for more customers since jobs were scarce.
“Who?”
Aemil stopped in his tracks, Saeran hitting his face. “You can’t tell anyone about this.” He looked at Saeran, “As your older brother, I’m telling you to keep it between us, understand?”
“Yes, yes. Who is it?”
“It’s a dragon-blooded.”
Saeran backed away, “You can’t be serious.”
Aemil stepped closer, “They only want one kill and will pay double the price, Saeran. We have to consider. We’ve been eating like beggars for weeks!”
Saeran huffed, “Have you forgotten what they did? They killed our parents, for one; and you can’t work with their sort. You’ll end up killing us both.”
“It wasn’t their fault our parents died, and you know it.”
“You couldn’t have expected King Nethan to save everyone and– “
“The dungeons were empty, Saeran,” Aemil shouted. “He could’ve very well saved everyone if he wished to. You just don’t want to see it.”
“I don’t remember, and I don’t trust those dragon-blooded shapeshifters.”
Aemil sighed. “They want the king.”
Aemil and Saeran fought over the requested hunt. On the day of the raid, only nobles and children were accepted into the king’s dungeons for protection. The rest sheltered in different areas of the kingdom that seemed to offer some safety. But Saeran and Aemil’s parents, along with many others, died that day. Since then, the two young brothers were taken under the wing of a knight, paid by the king for raising the children of Hang-Deon. The newly orphaned kids were sent to all types of homes, but they were the only ones appointed to a knight. With the knight, named Sandro de Triga, they learned to fight and hunt, as well as survive in any conditions.
With their combined set of skills, they became Hang-Deon’s favourite pair of brothers. King Nethan was a crucial part of their fame, for he was the one who sent them to kill the dragon. Many hunters and knights were sent on the same mission years before the unforgettable dragon raid; none of them came back. Ten years passed before the king sent someone after the dragons again, Saeran and Aemil. Celebrations took place when they returned victorious, with a dragon fang as proof as the people envisioned a brighter future–one without dragons.
Now, Saeran criticized Aemil’s plan to meet up with Taya, the head of the Southern Dragons. But as he nagged, Aemil shot a fire arrow into the sky. In seconds, a massive dragon appeared from the horizon. It flew straight to them, its wings expanding the size of a city, and its scales glowing orange as flames danced around the body; with smoke trailing behind.
“You can’t be serious! You called her here?!”
“She comes in peace, Saeran. Show some diplomacy.”
As the dragon got closer, Saeran couldn’t help but fidget with his sword at his waist, itching to grab it for reassurance.
The dragon almost blew them away as it landed a couple of meters away from them. The giant, flaming creature disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, and out of the smoke walked a woman: Taya, leader of the shapeshifting dragons.
Saeran limited himself to introductions and left the negotiating to Aemil, who seemed extremely calm for the scenario they were in, even cracking a joke or two with one of the most dangerous creatures out there. They discussed risks, openings, schedules, and methods along with other things. Saeran wanted to speak up against the plan but stayed silent out of caution.
Before leaving, Taya looked at Saeran, “I know that what I’m asking of you is considered treason, but you must understand, Saeran. I am doing this on behalf of my people and all magical creatures. The world belongs to us all, don’t you agree?”
Saeran couldn’t reply. Whether out of fear or lack of an answer, he didn’t know. Taya looked back at Aemil. “If you decide to take on the mission, I offer you complete refuge on the peninsula of Somfru to live among us in peace. Shoot a flaming arrow at the sky when the king is dead so that I can help you escape. I will wait a week.”
With a nod from Aemil, Taya distanced herself from them. She blew fire out of her mouth and engulfed herself in flames. In seconds, Taya transformed into the dragon form she flew in with; an almost-black scarlet coat of scales with thousands of black horns running from head to tail. Taya took to the sky in one strong flap of her wings. Saeran’s gaze followed her with a twinge of envy as she made her way across the air.
Three days passed, and Saeran and Aemil had scheduled a private hearing with King Nethan. They wished to be appointed as knights, having trained under one and having provided the Crown with excellent services for years. It was their only way of having a more stable life in Hang-Deon, and it was the only thing Saeran could think of not to kill the king. He was grateful to him for proclaiming them the best bounty hunters and having saved them from the raid.
Aemil stopped before the double doors to the king’s throne room. “Saeran, this won’t work. Let’s just do the mission and- “
“Have faith, brother,” Saeran interrupted.
They walked into the room, and King Nethan sat at the throne expecting them, a glass of wine in his hand; the wine bottle on the floor, empty. The brothers bowed and shared greetings with the king, a smile on his face seeing them both. Saeran spoke, and once he began his proposition of being dubbed knights, the king’s smile was replaced with a frown.
“Why, who do you think you are? You kill some creatures and now believe you are worthy of such a title?” the king said.
Saeran was taken aback. “Not at all, Your Majesty. I am only suggesting since we would be of more aid if we were to have the resources of a knight.”
“Knights are of noble blood, which you have not. They are bonds of loyalty between the reigning monarchs and their fellow lords. It would be an insult to the knights if– “
“But we killed a dragon!” Saeran cut in.
The king flared at the interruption. “You interrupt your king? I advise you to leave now before I anger.”
Saeran’s blood started to boil inside him. Aemil started talking to calm the situation, signalling Saeran to relax. The king had always treated them with respect when other people were around. Now that they were alone, he spoke more condescendingly. As the king raised his voice to a shout and denied them, Saeran began feeling hot. Not the type of hot when getting enraged, but actual heat that originated from his breath. The more the king yelled at them, the hotter his breath grew.
King Nethan stood from his throne, “GET OUT NOW.” Aemil grabbed the hilt of his sword, tempted to kill the king now.
Saeran grabbed Aemil’s arm, “Let’s leave.” Aemil shot an enraged look at Saeran as if saying “He deserves to die”. But Saeran pulled him along. As they made their way out, the king mumbled, “Stupid half-breeds. Should’ve killed you along with your parents.”
The king hadn’t finished sitting back down when Saeran turned around and blew a white-hot line of fire from his mouth towards the king. All the furniture burned to crisps and the only thing left was the throne and crown along with the strongest heat Saeran had ever felt. When he looked down at himself, he screamed in surprise. His body was in flames.
Aemil grabbed him by the shoulders and ordered him to calm down. “Breathe, Saeran. You’re alright!”
“I just killed the king and I’m on fire!”
Aemil widened his eyes. “The mission! You completed the mission! You killed the king!” At that moment, someone tried opening the doors. “Oh shit! We killed the king. We need to hurry. Hold those doors shut.” Saeran did as he was told while wailing. Aemil lit an arrow with one of the fires around the room and shot it out the window to the sky. In the distance, they saw Taya shift and fly towards them. “She’s on her way.”
The doors rattled more as the ones on the other side pushed harder.
Aemil looked between Saeran and Taya, “Oh come on, hurry up.” The doors started to open. Aemil left the window and helped Saeran–who was no longer on fire– “hold the door”. He sees Taya. “Saeran, Taya is on the window, let’s go!”
“We need to hold the door!” Saeran shouts.
“I’ll hold it, you jump first!”
Saeran makes sure Aemil has the doors and runs to the window. Taya is there, flapping her wings to be level with the window. He shouts to Aemil to come. And he does, leaving the door to burst open. They both jump from the window as they hear the gasps and screams of the knights who just entered. They land on Taya’s back and see the knights staring. As they escape, one of the knights aims his bow and shoots. Taya flaps her wings and they disappear.
Saeran pats his body in confusion. “We did it… I did it. The king is dead. Fire…” He looks back at Aemil who is hunched over. From the side of his stomach, an arrow sticking out. Saeran yells at Taya, his brother’s been shot. He holds the arrow in place and sobs as he tells Aemil to stay awake.
—
Saeran wakes up in a mostly empty room, there are only two beds and a wide table separating the two. Across his bed, he sees Aemil sleeping and runs to his side. “Aemil? Aemil, are you okay?” Aemil doesn’t respond. “Oh, this is all my fault! Saeran bawls over his brother. Because of his bawling, he doesn’t notice Taya and another person entering the room.
Taya walks in, “Oh, you’re up.” Saeran straightens up. “Don’t worry, he’s alright. Just sleeping.”
Saeran stops crying instantly and doesn’t say a word, not knowing how to interact with her. Taya notices his reluctance and talks instead.
“There are some things you should know.” Saeran sits on Aemil’s bed to listen. “First, I am extremely thankful for what you did. You might not know it, but you completed a mission that started twenty-three years ago.” She clears her throat. “The person who started the mission was… your mother.”
“What? You’re lying.”
“Please, listen.” Saeran stayed silent. “Twenty-three years ago, your mother volunteered to go undercover to Hang-Deon and kill King Nethan. She was one of us, one of the strongest. She served as my parents’ advisor and was the one who came up with the plan. Not wanting to put pressure on anyone, she put it on herself and went alone. Luckily, we had an ally in Hang-Deon. His name was Ermian, your father. He was a fruit vendor and key to helping your mother, Sana, fit in.”
Taya sighed. “We knew she had started a family with him after three years of living together and that her plan was nearing an end. She planned to simply sneak in and kill him, but there was a dragon shifter in their midst that would’ve made it impossible for her to escape, Sandro de Triga.”
“Sandro?!”
“Yes. He was always close to the king and he was wary of every outsider, including Sana, and we didn’t know he was there. One day, a messenger arrived at Somfru. With him a package. It was a dragon’s fang with a note that said you had all been killed. In a state of rage, my mother rallied up an attack force and flew to Hang-Deon and set fire to whatever they could find. That’s what Hang-Deon remembers as the raid.”
“But the raid… that’s why my parents died,” Saeran added.
“Yes. The fang that was sent belonged to Sandro. He is the one behind the war between humans and magical creatures. He wishes for dragons to be the only race and has warped the minds of kings and commoners alike, using whatever means necessary to eradicate every species. He knew from the beginning who your mother was. He and the king waited patiently for you and your brother to become old enough to start training. Had we known he was there, we would’ve never allowed Sana to go,” Taya took a deep breath. “My parents died a couple of years after that, believing you were all dead. It wasn’t until we heard of two brothers killing a dragon in Hang-Deon that we started to speculate. And we sent spies to find out who you were.”
“I don’t understand. What does killing a dragon have to do with it? Anybody could’ve done that.”
Taya looked taken aback. “Saeran, only dragons can kill dragons. Your brother accepted the mission knowing this already, which is why you succeeded.”
Saeran laughed, “I can’t be a dragon.”
“Whether you acknowledge it or not,” Taya kneeled in front of him, “we are forever in you and your brother’s debt.”
The man who entered with Taya kneeled beside her and said, “Welcome back home, Saeran of Somfru, home of the Southern Dragons.” The man did a series of hand motions in the air, and in the final one, Saeran’s irises turned a golden colour, as if activated by the hand motions. A heat started to form on the back of his throat. Before he could say anything, a white fire shot out, hotter than before. It lit up the whole room. When it ended, Taya and the man stared in fear and surprise.
Taya spoke up after taking some steps back. “That is not your mother’s fire, Saeran.”
“What do you mean?”
“The fire colour one has is the same as the stronger parent’s fire.”
“My mom’s fire wasn’t white?”
Taya looked around. “That’s Sandro’s fire colour.”
