Raulin's Oath

The night was silent as the Chosen stood their ground, scanning the inky blackness for movement. Jerry leaned close to Arietta and whispered, “I don’t see anything; why did you wake us up?” Arietta’s cheeks burned a rosy red. As she opened her mouth to speak, there was movement out of the corner of her eye and pointed.

“Did you see that?” she spoke in a whisper, and Jerry heard the quiver in her voice.

Nova’s vision had adjusted to the dark, her pupils fully dilated. She looked in the direction that Arietta had pointed and pulled in a deep breath. Whatever was out there was smart enough to remain upwind of her. “I am tired of waiting this out.” She took off, low to the ground, with a snarl on her face.

Arkas called, “Nova, wait. They want to separate us. We need to stay together!”

Nova’s instincts were now in control, and all rational thought had left her mind. She circled around the nearest dune and came face-to-face with one of the hunters. Nova’s paws cut parallel trenches in the sand as she slid to a stop. She locked eyes with a creature that was close to six feet in height even as it crouched low to the ground. Its muzzle resembled that of a lion, with stiletto daggers for teeth. Saliva dripped from the longest of the creature’s teeth as its lips pulled back in a snarl. It emitted guttural whumphs in short bursts as tendrils of smoke snaked from both of its nostrils. As the creature continued to utter this odd noise, a mane of long black quills stood on end, making the head double in size. The quills quivered in unison with the whumps. Two other creatures materialized, one on each side of her as the one directly in front began to blend into the background until all she could see was its glowing emerald green eyes. Adrenaline coursed through Nova’s veins. Her legs stretched as she let loose a terrible growl. Her eyes shone brighter than all the stars as her body grew.

The hunters had finally caught up to their prey. Little did they know that Nova was no prey. She would never be the prey, for she was the great huntress. The Wolf bowed to none.

They were larger than anticipated, but that just fueled the bloodlust that pounded through her. With a howl that pierced the ever-shifting night sky, her eyes flashed angrily, and her hair stood on end. The howl was paired with a burst of energy, and the wolf continued to grow. She was a demon of the night, and one with the moon, and no hunter--no matter how large the fangs--could best her.

Her bones ached, but shedding their blood across the dunes of sand would ease the pain. It would make the expansion worth it. Muscles grew along with the stretching of her bones. Her vision blurred, then cleared as her eyes filled in the void left by the growing sockets. A grin stretched across her muzzle, and her upper lip quivered in anticipation.

The white wolf towered over the hunters, her hair on end and face warped into a menacing snarl. She was larger than a truck, fangs devastatingly sharp. She leapt, then clawed and tore through one of the beasts, but there was a factor she had not considered: poisonous fangs. Had the beings fought fair, she would’ve demolished them; however, with a quick bite to the nape of her neck pumping a sedative through her, as powerfully as she rose to fight, so too did she fall.

Her legs twitched aimlessly, coat melting around her to leave that same shy girl curled in on herself against the earth. While her eyes were closed, her face was contorted with that overwhelming rage, yet there was no fight left in her.

“Nova!” Jerry roared her name while racing towards the fallen girl. The remaining four beasts smiled Cheshire-cat grins at him. Clashing his hands together, he drew on the dark side of his power, unleashing several of his shadow beasts. A sharp slash from the claw of a hunter dissolved the shadow beasts into wispy trails of smoke that hung in the gelid air, and Jerry crashed to his knees, desperately trying to drag Nova away from the monsters.

Out of an instinct that Jerry never realized he possessed, he sent one of his daggers spiraling through the air towards the hunter to the left, still in his crouched position. The arc of the dagger flashed in the starlight, and with a thick squelch, impacted with one of the hunters. His screech made Jerry’s ears pound, and he was delighted that the dagger had embedded itself between the beast’s scales.

Launching its paws into the air with another devilish scream, its fearsome emerald eyes connected with his, and a dull throb of panic pierced through his thin veil of childish excitement for hitting the mark. It was going to charge him, and he only had one dagger left, and a sick friend he needed to protect. Close range was not a good idea for fighting one-on-one with a beast that size; that was one thing Jerry knew for sure.

“Jerry, move!” Arietta’s voice ripped him from his head. His eyes were stuck on his dagger, and on the drops that were pooling down toward the handle. The hunter’s blood was matte black, a startling difference from his own. Eyes glued to the blood, a perfect droplet finally release itself from the handle, falling like a raindrop to the ground. The moment the droplet hit, grains of sand raced out from under the hunter’s feet, and the it was swallowed into the merciless sand.

“Don’t bleed on the sand; rule one,” Jerry said under his breath, amazement and horror coursing strongly through him. He shook his head a moment, refocusing himself to the fight. The hunter was furious, ripping its claws through the sand, orange light burning in its throats. Sand surrounded the hunter as it sank slowly into the earth. Soon, all that remained was Jerry’s black dagger. He quickly retrieved it and slid it back into its holder.

Arietta took this all in coolly, drawing in a sharp breath. She knew what she must do, and she placed a calm hand on Arkas’ arm as he frantically dug around in his pouch.

“It is getting late.” Her crisp notes would be her weapon. “You cannot fight what we call fate.” The hunters slowed, eyes drooping. “Even the mighty warrior must rest.” She began to snap, a natural smile gracing her face. “The day is done, you’ve passed your test,” she continued, skipping towards Nova and Jerry, while the hunters with drooping eyes couldn’t help but to surrender to her siren song. “Let me have her, Jerry, I’ve got this,” she said softly, and his eyes searched her own for a second before giving her the unconscious girl. “You cannot resist the call of the night, sleep the whole night through and give up the fight.” Nova’s face drooped to a peaceful calm, eyebrows no longer drawn together, face no longer disturbed.

Arkas quickly examined Nova’s neck and wrapped a cloth around it to ensure that no blood touched the sand.

“Are you going to wake her?” Jerry questioned impatiently. Arkas began to protest, but Arietta simply lifted a hand, silencing them both.

“No, I am not. Not while the hunters are here. The best I can do for her is to relax her; it is far too much of a risk to try waking her.”

Arkas nodded his silent approval, yet Jerry glowered in her direction.

“She was so stupid,” he huffed. “Why did she risk that? We told her not to go, yet she did it anyway. She could die. We don’t even know if she’ll survive the night,” he growled, then turned to Arietta, eyes suddenly much more primal. “Why won’t you wake her? You can just put them back to sleep. Haven’t you learned to control your magic better than this?”

She maintained eye contact, refusing to submit by looking away. “I will not wake her because it is dangerous to the rest of the group. You are right, it was stupid of her, because she wasn’t thinking of the team. I am thinking of the team right now, and if you can’t respect that, then I don’t know what to tell you.” Her voice was dangerously low, and Arkas had the sense to give the kids a bit of space.

“Who are you to make those calls?” He growled this, running a hand through his hair.

“Who are you to question them?” Arietta asked.

“I am part of the team, that’s what I am! She could die in her sleep, and you don’t even care.”

“Of course I care, but I’m thinking about everyone. Just because I’m not using my dangerous and unpredictable magic that could possibly wake the death machines sleeping in the sand doesn’t mean you and Arkas can’t try.”

“Okay, both of you cut it out!” Arkas finally broke his restraint, bellowing into the night air. “Who cares how we wake her? I’m doing it now with some Safrae flowers. I was looking for them when this fight broke out. I’m giving them to her, and we are leaving. It has taken me over two years to track down the Record Keeper, and I’m not allowing bickering children to stop me from finding it!” Arkas stalked aggressively toward the limp girl, chewed the flower into a paste, and spat it into her mouth. Both Arietta and Jerry agreed that it was disgusting, but Nova shot up a mere three seconds after the administration of the flower.

“My head is going to explode, it hurts so bad,” Nova groaned, not attempting to stand. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You don’t feel… poison-y?” Arietta grasped for the word she was going for, yet when it would not come, she made up her own. Nova laughed softly, white hair glowing ever so slightly.

“No I don’t feel ‘poison-y.’” At this, both Arietta and Jerry visibly relaxed.

“I hate to interrupt, but we need to leave,” Arkas said, but not unkindly.

***

Lucius scented the fox, the pounding rhythm of its heart ringing in his ears as it darted from him. All life in the forest breathed with him. The essence of everything surrounded him, and he wondered how any mortal could give up such a beautiful gift. The trees were no longer trees, but they were spirits with faces, whose whispers echoed through the canopy. He was on all fours, legs and arms moving in tandem. They were watching him, the stars that peered through the treetops were old. Older than Palidonaya, most as old as time. They had smiling faces, and sensed peace from them. He wondered what it would be like to be so far away from everything--wondered if the silence would be deafening, or if it would set him free.

The fox was swift, and while she darted from him, he knew that deep within him she was prepared for her sacrifice. The great Diwata had chosen the fox for a reason, and the fox would humbly bow to the Diwata. All the kings of Draconis had their ashes spread here, all except for his father. His father did not deserve this honor, so his corpse had been left to rot. He would not spend the rest of eternity among Draconis’s heroes such as Marak of Ash and Helio Death Bringer.

Lucius urged his limbs to go faster, his nose trailing the ground. He was in his humanoid form, but that didn’t stop him from tracking. He neared the fox, closer and closer, and finally he caught her.

She did not yelp as he snagged a leg, did not fight as he snapped her neck. Her body went limp in his arms, and in the deepest pools of his heart, he felt sympathy. She had done him a great service, and he would forever be grateful.

“I’m sorry, little one,” he whispered into the corpse’s silky ear. “You will be of great use to me, to this kingdom. Your death was not in vain,” he swore. On the ground, where her last breath was taken, a vibrant flower sprouted in its place. A deep maroon gladiolus rose, life replacing death. Lucius wrapped the fox around his neck, kneeling to the flower. Lowering a gentle hand, he dug into the soft soil, extracting the plant, roots and all, to preserve its life. A distinct, warm wetness trailed down his face, and acknowledged it to be tears. He’d been chosen as worthy. The Hunt was over, and he would meet his people as the officially recognized King of Draconis.

Their king emerged from the forest radiating, and those who had set tents out to be there once his hunt was complete stared in awe, every citizen falling to their knees for him. The bulk of his population were servants, only eight pure blooded Draconians, but deep down he now knew that was inconsequential, for all had the hearts of his people. Each and every one of them belonged to him.

A man of the Order of the Dragon kneeled before him, humbly turning his face to the ground. He balanced a dagger encrusted with emeralds between his hands: an offering. Lucius, tracing his pointer down the man’s face to his chin, tilted his head upwards. The Diwata still danced in his eyes, and the man’s mouth fell open. Lucius gingerly took the blade from him, plunging it through the fox to remove its heart.

Lucius raised the dripping heart, the blood splattering on the cobblestone beneath him, and the people roared. His teeth tore through the flesh, and dark maroon streamed down his face, two interwoven rivers of death and promise. Louder and louder the crowd roared, a chant, a plea, a cry… all his name. A female now came to him, and she placed a crown, his crown, on his head. Even the stars had been awakened by the noise, but their faces now faded, and the world returned to its normal state of being. The Diwata had left him, and yet She had not. She was not with him, yet he still felt her ever-raging presence. All was well, all back to normal.

Lucius paced, preparing his mind to speak to his people. He inhaled, the feast’s scent still hanging in the air, the blood of the fox also clogging his nostrils.

“I have completed my Rite; I have claimed the fox. More importantly, I have returned with the Maroon Gladiolus. You might ask yourselves, why exactly is this important?” Murmurings blanketed the world, their velvet whispers and predictions sweet to his ears. He let loose a gentle chuckle. His eyes were glazed over with adoration, and the hearts surrounding him were pumping Draconis blood, black and true. All hearts beating for him, for the stars above, and for a world unclaimed. “Maroon, for our kind, is the color of success. Every great king that is carved into the histories had the maroon flower. The gladiolus also foretells the successful reign. It is a sign of great balance to come. The sword tail lily has two sides: swift punishment and mercy. Balance and good fortune are the predictions for my reign, but my reign does not just belong to me, but to all. You, my good people, are the heart and soul of this noble reign, I am the brain. Together, we will burn this planet and rule the ashes. Now, rise all. Rise a citizen, the heart and soul, servants and dragons alike, rise and claim your rightful place as one with Draconis.” They no longer murmured; they all roared, a symphony of pride and love. In a wave, they stood and claimed their rights. King Lucius thrust a clenched fist into the air, and his name was the only word on their lips.