Book 3: Chapter 1
Book 3: Chapter 1
“Chief, are the preparations ready?” A young man with tanned skin tapped on the flap of a leather tent with the butt of his wooden spear. He waited a few moments before pressing his ear against the tent. “Chief?”
There was a faint grunt, followed by a gruff voice. “It’s almost done. Come in and help me apply the finishing touches.”
The young man rested his spear against the tent before lifting the flap. An old man with a grizzled beard stood over a young girl, who looked to be about seven years old. She was wearing an outfit made of animal carcasses. Bones provided the frame of the dress for the animal meat to rest upon, and sinew tied it all together. The old man had a brush in one hand and a jar of sauce in the other. He smeared the sauce on the back of the girl’s outfit before raising his head, nodding at the young man.
“What do you need me to do?” the young man asked, looking around the tent. It was bloody, and animal hides littered the ground.
“Rub some salt and ground peppercorn into the outfit. Dragons love salt and pepper.”
The little girl made a face as the young man approached her, holding two jars of spices. “I hate peppercorn.” She turned her head to face the chief. “Uncle, are you going to cook me?”
“Stop wriggling,” the chief said as his brush almost slipped. “Uncle’s not going to cook you. Today’s the day of offering; you’ll get to see your parents again. Don’t you want to see your parents again, little one?”
“But Aunt said my parents went to sleep and will never wake up again because of the bear,” the little girl said. “Did Aunt lie to me? Or are you lying to me? I don’t like being lied to, Uncle.”
The young man grimaced as he finished adding salt and pepper to the girl’s outfit. “Chief…, do we have to do this?”
“It’s necessary,” the chief said, his face unchanging. “With the taxes from the empire increasing and the recent drought, an offering’s the only way to ensure our tribe’s survival.”
The young man sighed as he tousled the girl’s hair, sprinkling it with bits of salt. He shook his head and helped the chief pack away the cooking tools before exiting the tent, equipping his spear. “If only the emperor weren’t such a devil, things would be different.”
“Don’t say things like that,” the chief said as he led the girl outside the tent. A bug flew up to her, but the chief swatted it with a palm filled with fire, incinerating the poor insect. “If you’re mistaken for a rebel, those devils will come after the whole tribe.”
“Where are we going?” the little girl asked, her gaze switching between the two adults. “Are we going to a feast? I like feasts.”
“Yes, we’re going to a feast,” the chief said, smiling at the little girl as he grabbed her hand. He raised his head towards the sky, staring at the peaks of the mountains that protruded beyond the trees. A few winged creatures could be seen in the air above them. The chief’s face hardened as his hand tightened around the girl’s.
***
Sera yawned, causing wind to whistle through the cave. She smacked her lips a few times as she climbed to her feet. Her head swiveled around before stopping on an indent in the ground. “Vernon?” she asked, bringing her snout down to the indent. She sniffed it before raising her head. “Where’d he go?”
Sera frowned as she lumbered towards the exit of the cave, poking her head outside the entrance. A jet of orange flames rained down from above, striking her snout. Her eye twitched as smoke drifted off her scales, causing her nostrils to curl. She stomped out of the cave, unfurling her wings, and glared at the five dragons in the sky before letting out a roar. Four sky-blue dragons were ganging up on a golden dragon, but they stopped mid-attack as their attentions turned towards the ground. “Watch where you’re shooting your breaths!”
“Sorry, Aunt Sera!” one of the sky-blue dragons said as she landed on a ledge overlooking the cave. “But it’s Uncle Vernon’s fault for dodging. You can’t only blame me.”
“You little rascal,” Sera said and rolled her eyes. “I bet it was you who wanted to wrestle with your uncle this early in the morning, Alora.”
Alora raised her brow and smirked as she crouched down and pulled her head back so that only the tip of her snout was peeking out from over the ledge. “And I bet you wrestled with Uncle last night when the full moon was—ah! Murder! Uncle Vernon, help! Aunt Sera’s trying to murder me!”
“Now, now,” Vernon said as he alighted onto the ledge. “You shouldn’t tease your aunt like that.” He reached forward with one paw to pry Sera’s claws off of Alora’s tail, but one glare from his mate caused him to scratch his cheek. He cleared his throat as he looked off to the side.
“Have you no morals?” Alora asked as she struggled to stay on the ledge, her front claws digging into the stone, slowly creeping backwards as Sera continued to pull. Alora’s eyes brimmed with tears as she met Vernon’s gaze. “Someone’s about to die in front of you, but you’re—ack!”
Vernon cleared his throat again as Alora disappeared over the edge and into the cave. The three dragons flying above him stared at him with accusation in their eyes. One of them opened its mouth and asked, “You’re not going to help her, Uncle Vernon?”
Vernon peered into the cave and was met with wailing sounds. He blinked a few times before turning away. “Oh, would you look at that,” he said, pointing at the base of the mountain. “Looks like there’s people.”
“Ugh,” one of the dragons said as it wrinkled its snout, “it’s them again.” The dragon tucked its wings and dove towards the ground, heading towards the three people—one of them wearing a dress made of meat.
“Them again?” Vernon asked, tilting his head. “Humans bother you regularly?”
“Once a year or so,” a dragon said as it landed on the ledge next to Vernon. “They come up and offer sacrifices, asking for things like rain or a good crop yield.”
“Sacrifices?”
The dragon pointed at the base of the mountain, and Vernon squinted his eyes as he followed its claw. “You see that? Those kinds of sacrifices,” the sky-blue dragon said. The dragon that had gone down to confront the humans rose onto its hind legs. With a lunging motion, its mouth covered the girl dressed in meat, and she disappeared as the dragon drew its head back. The remaining humans dropped to their knees and knocked their foreheads against the ground as the dragon flew back up. “At first, they offered us healthy men, but we told them that humans tasted disgusting. So instead of offering us cows or something, they dressed themselves in cow meat and repeated their first offer. Of course, we didn’t accept and told them humans tasted disgusting.” The sky-blue dragon sighed as it sat up straight. “Somehow, they misinterpreted our words and came back with young women as sacrifices instead. Grandma was getting annoyed at that point, so she just gave them what they asked for to get them to leave us alone, and ever since then, those humans bother us with sacrifices until we give them what they want.”
“They, uh, don’t fear you?” Vernon asked, raising his brows. If someone woke him from his nap once a year, he’d probably burn the village down to get them to stop.
“They fear us,” the dragon said and bobbed its head up and down, “but they respect us more.” It sidled over to make space for the returning dragon. “What did they want this time?”
The dragon that had gone down to the base of the mountain opened its mouth and dropped a shivering ball of crying meat onto the ground. “Blech. Too much salt and pepper.” The dragon scraped its tongue with its claw a few times before wiping a glob of saliva into the earth. “They asked for the usual: more rain, more crops, more babies. Apparently, a war’s brewing or something and the empire raised their taxes again.”
“Ah?” Vernon craned his neck to the side and squinted off in the distance. “That aura feels like Vur.”
“What is it, Uncle Vernon?” Alora asked as she was dragged out of the cave by Sera, who was holding onto her tail. “Aunt Sera suddenly stopped punishing me.”
“It seems like our son’s here,” Vernon said with a chuckle. “Right?”
“That’s right,” Sera said, releasing Alora and flying into the air. “You four better get ready to welcome your cousin.”
“Our cousin?” Alora asked as she crawled up the ledge. “Oh, a ball of meat—lunchtime already? Wait, why’s it crying?”