14-51. Villains
The night air slipped past, ruffling Elijah’s hair. Voices echoed down the path, but he paid them no attention. Instead, he focused on the connection he shared with the tree before him. It was ancient, its thoughts – such as they were – glacial, even for a tree. But he felt pain there, too.
It wasn’t a physical thing. Rather, if such a term could be applied to a non-sentient thing, it was psychological. The impression flowing through their connection told Elijah a story of a life lived in constraint. Someone had spent a lifetime guiding the tree’s growth, not for its health, but for pure aesthetics.
That wasn’t to say that it wasn’t a healthy specimen. It was. By all rights, it had lived an easy life, its every day filled with nutrients most trees would never enjoy. It didn’t need to struggle for light, and it never went thirsty.
But deep inside, in a place that even Elijah struggled to feel, the tree longed for the freedom of the wild. A need to struggle and fight, to fail and succeed based on its own viability. It wanted to live the life of its ancestors in the jungles far below.
To Elijah, it was like comparing a wild boar to a domestic pig.
Not quite disgusting. The tree hadn’t been mistreated. But it still left a sour taste on his tongue.
Nature was not meant to be confined. Guided, perhaps. Tended to, maybe. But forced to grow straight and tall, rather than twisted and strong? Seeing the reality before him scorched a dark stain across Elijah’s mind.
With a sigh, he gave the tree one last pat on its trunk before pulling away. He glanced back the way he’d come, studying the twisted path cutting through the park. Its form was objectively perfect, just like its surroundings. Someone had gone to quite a lot of trouble to put everything in its place.
Was it nature?
No. It was more like a painting of the wilderness, where everything was meticulously arranged for aesthetic pleasure. Like set dressing for a living play. But it was beautiful. Even Elijah could admit that.
The trees were perfectly spaced, the native animals chosen for their appearance, rather than their suitability for the environment. Even the water features like the lake at the center of the park only held sleek fish with brightly colored scales. There were no mudfish. Nothing like the blobfish. Nothing weird or misshapen.
And it was worse for it, in Elijah’s opinion.
He glanced up, taking in the lights dancing among the tree’s limbs. Tiny globes that cast the entire park in soft illumination that made the entire place feel more intimate. According to Sara, the park was a favorite of amorous couples throughout Ashakar.
Up the path he saw her gesturing wildly to her friends.
Alrhok towered over them all, while Piki struggled to keep up with the pace set by everyone else’s much longer legs. Morin walked with his hands behind his back, looking like nothing so much as an androgynous aristocrat out for an evening stroll.
But Elijah truly only had eyes for Kaelari.
As if she could feel his eyes on her, the draconic woman glanced back at him. Framed by the forest’s dim light, she smiled shyly, sending a tingle of anticipation up his spine.
It had been a long, long time since Elijah had felt what he felt when he looked at Kaelari. Part physical attraction, part primal need predicated on power, and part simple intrigue – it wasn’t a rational feeling. It was almost instinctual. But for once, all three pieces of his identity stood in agreement.
He wasn’t a slave to those instincts, though. He recognized the budding infatuation for what it was, and though he didn’t completely reject it, he did push it aside until he could learn more about the person beneath it all. Elijah wasn’t averse to the idea, but he also wasn’t eager to leap into a relationship.
After all, it hadn’t been that long ago that his time with Sadie had come to an abrupt end. It was over far before they said the words – thirty years was a long time, after all – but it felt a bit hasty to jump into something else after less than six months had passed.
A whisper in the back of his mind told him that it was exactly what he needed, though.
Ignoring that soft voice, he stepped away from the tree and strode down the path. Along the way, he passed another couple walking hand-in-hand. They leaned close, sharing some secret that elicited a shared laugh.
And Elijah’s romantic side yearned for that kind of a connection.
He reached his group just as a similarly sized gathering came into view. Elijah knew they were trouble from the second he laid eyes on them. One glance. That was all it took to categorize them.
The one in the center looked like he was holding court. Tall, broad-shouldered, but with a slim waist, he looked like the antagonist for an eighties teen comedy. The jock who tormented the protagonist. The guy who’d eventually be put in his place.
Elijah instantly hated him.
At his side was a much thinner figure with stark white scales and curious eyes. His every step was a slither, his demeanor that of a predator. And not the sort that hunted other animals. Rather, he was the kind of predator parents warned their daughters about.
There were others in the group. A hulking drake that was even larger than Alrhok. A woman wearing so many diamonds that she practically glittered. A human serpentor in the back, wringing his clammy hands as if he expected trouble. He flinched at every sharp movement.
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Elijah rejoined Sara and the others just before their paths crossed with the other group.
“Greetings,” said the leader, affecting a shallow bow directed at Sara. “You look as beautiful as ever, Saraalinisa.” His eyes flicked toward Elijah. A sneer followed. “Move along, beast. This does not concern you.”
For once, Sara shrank away.
That told Elijah all he needed to know.
“Definitely an eighties bully,” he said. Then, his eyes flicked toward the big guy. “That makes you the brainless muscle.” He gestured toward the woman. “The jealous side piece.” He pointed at the white-scaled dragon. “And you’re the lead henchman. Competent but morally deficient. Right?”
“Silence, beast.”
“Beast? You’re about one-third right. Don’t worry about it. Thirty percent is a good score. I’m sure you’ll pass. Eventually. Maybe after a few repeats.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the leader, thoroughly confused. Not surprising, all things considered. Elijah didn’t think that eighties cinema had made its way to the Empire of Scale.
“Don’t worry about it,” he answered. Then, he glanced at the woman. “And you can do better, Sparkles. Believe me.”
“Ah. I recognize you now,” said the leader.
“That makes one of us.”
“Inane chatter. Green scales. Ratty attire. You must be Prosperity’s new whelp. A mongrel plucked from some uncivilized planet and given a chance to become a real person,” he said, stepping forward.
“Mongrel? I’m hurt. I’ll have you know that my parents were both pure-bred humans,” Elijah responded.
“Mockery. How quaint.”
Elijah shrugged. “I just throw it at the people who deserve it,” he stated. “Did you need something? If not, feel free to run along.”
“Perhaps I merely wish to share the acquaintance of the beautiful Saraalinisa.”
Elijah glanced at Sara, who’d taken a step back. “Pretty sure she doesn’t like you, man.”
“Then she can say so herself.”
“Or I could just make you leave her alone. Haven’t really let loose in a while.”
Even as he spoke, Elijah felt something slither among the leaves within his mind. It didn’t attack. Rather, it was just a probe. He speared it with a needle from his Mantle of Authority.
The white-scaled dragon flinched. It was barely more than a twitch, but Elijah recognized it all the same. He didn’t acknowledge it, though. Instead, he just continued to stare the leader down. However, he didn’t miss that the henchman was staring at Kaelari.
Finally, the turquoise-scaled leader forced a laugh. “I do hope we meet again, beast.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
With that, the other group moved on. The tension remained until they were well out of earshot. Only then did Elijah asked, “Who the hell was that guy?”
“Cyran es Caelwyn,” said Sara.
Finally, Kaelari added, “And Skahan ak Vael.”
“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?” Elijah asked, glancing at Sara.
“Don’t you know anything about politics?” asked Morin.
Elijah shrugged. “Nothing at all. Didn’t think I needed to.”
With a sigh, Morin explained that the group of young dragons belonged to the powerful Whispering Wind Clan. “They’re led by a pair of transcendents, one of which is Cyran’s father,” he went on. “Skahan’s parents are both high-deities that most people think will eventually transcend, but there are other transcendents in his ancestry.”
“And how do they know you all?” Elijah asked.
“Cyran attended the Academy for a few years. His parents offered mother a betrothal between us. She left it up to me, and I refused. Ever since then, he’s…he has tried…”
Sara’s voice petered out.
“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” Elijah asked, stepping forward and putting his hands on her shoulders. She flinched a bit, so he pulled away.
“No. Not…really. I…I don’t want to talk about it.”
That was enough for Elijah, but he only took one step to follow the group before Alhrok brought him up short. “You can’t.”
“Pretty sure I can. He didn’t feel very strong.”
“He is.”
“I’m stronger.”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Alrhok stated, shifting in front of him. “But you’re not stronger than his family. And you’re definitely not stronger than the Scales of Peace.”
“The what?”
Morin cut in. “Did you think it’s peaceful here because we all chose to get along?”
“I didn’t really give it much thought.”
“You attack him, and they’ll come down on you. Hard. There are no exceptions.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Elijah said, pushing past Alrhok.
“Elijah.”
Sara’s voice cut through his anger. He looked back at her pleading face.
“Don’t.”
“I can’t let this stand,” he said.
“It’s not the time,” she pointed out. Then, she adopted an expression of pure hatred. “His time will come. And when it does, I’ll be the one to show him the consequences.”
Elijah’s hands clenched into tight fists as the anger bubbling below the surface of his amiable personality breached the layer of civility he’d so meticulously maintained. The rage built over thirty years of isolation. The frustration at returning home to a world he didn’t recognize. The pain from his inevitable but still torturous breakup with Sadie.
It all coalesced, then ignited by his outrage over whatever had happened between Sara and Cyran.
He took a deep breath, cycling those feelings through the leaves of his mind. A few detached, drifting away before dissipating. Others grew in their place.
It helped.
A little.
“Fine.”
After that, everyone else just wanted to go home. They all went their separate ways, leaving Elijah alone with Sara. Elijah sat on a stone bench next to his adopted sister. His elbows rested on his knees as he tried to corral the anger within.
“It’s stupid,” her voice cut through his inner turmoil.
“What is?” he asked, turning to look at her. Tears flowed down her cheeks.
“What happened. It was during training. He just pinned me. For…for too long, he held me there. Smirking. I couldn’t escape. He has a combat class. Better body cultivation. More levels,” she trailed off.
For a moment, she remained silent. A pedestrian passed, paying no attention to the weeping girl. When they were gone, Sara continued, “He leaned in, and I’ll never forget what he said. ‘Welcome to your future,’ he said. I…panicked enough that the instructor finally broke us apart. But from that day on…”
She leaned in to him, and he put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close.
“I don’t know why I panicked so much,” she admitted. “I…I never did before. But when I look at him now…I just…I just lock up.”
“Do you want me to kill him?” Elijah asked.
She pulled away.
“You can’t. The Scales. His backing…”
Elijah shrugged. “He’d still be gone.”
In that moment, Elijah was perfectly willing to die if it meant giving Sara a little peace. If it came down to that, he had no intention of simply giving in. Worst case scenario, he would flee into the void and use that to escape. But if that didn’t work, and Cyran’s transcendent parents killed him?
Yeah.
He was okay with that.
For the first time in his life, Elijah truly knew what it meant to be a protective older brother.
“No,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Did you tell Kirlissa?”
Sara shook her head. “I don’t want her to go to war over something like this. She…she would destroy them.”
“Maybe that’s what they all deserve.”
“Maybe.”
The word hung in the air until, at last, Sara told him that she needed to go to bed. He watched her until she was inside the Academy, but he remained in place for more than an hour. During that time, he vowed to take matters into his own hands. Maybe fate would work in his favor and match him up with Cryan. If that happened, the scion would learn the consequences of his actions.