Danica Shardae

Tonight would be the night it would all go wrong.

It started after dinner. Zane and I had wandered though the market for a few minutes before heading inside for the night. We were both relaxed and happy, though thoughts of the recent violent activity in the market plagued us. We were in the bed chamber for perhaps twenty minutes when there was a knock on our door.

"Come in," said Zane, sending me a quizzical look.

A palace guard came in. "Well?" asked Zane.

"There's been a…commotion…of some sort near the palace doors, sir," answered the guard.

Zane tried his best to hide a groan of annoyance, but ultimately failed. I looked over at him, then at the guard, before saying, "Do continue."

As it turned out, the commotion was anything but the normal talk we heard about fights between avians and serpiente. "There was this…flaming stick…that was thrown over our heads. It began flashing really bright. We couldn't look at it or go near it, because the stick was also burning hot." The guard paused, looked at me momentarily, and said, "It was your Royal Flight general Andreios who eventually put out the fire."

I understood why. Being serpiente, the guards had enhanced senses of sight, smell, and touch. This could backfire on them, however, if whatever they encountered was really hot or flashed brightly, as it would overload there keen senses. The palace guards were brave soldiers, but I had a feeling they called for Andreios mainly out of fear. Intense heat had a way of bothering serpiente.

Zane said, "Are you searching for a suspect right now?"

"We are, although we don't have a clear person in mind. No one saw who threw the stick."

"Then keep searching, and make sure to spread the news of a potential arsonist. Is that all?"

"Yes," said the guard.

After he left, I got up from my seat by the nightstand and walked to Zane's side. He suddenly seemed tired. I put my arm around his waist and asked, "What's bothering you?"

"All of this. The fighting, the hatred…it won't go away. It's making life for us harder than necessary."

We had had this talk many times before. I also wished our two people could accept their differences and be friendly toward each other. Our bond was one crucial step, but it still seemed that we stayed separated.

I didn't feel like having the talk right then. I leaned on Zane's shoulder and closed my eyes. "Why don't we talk about this subject later?"

Zane didn't answer. Instead, he put his arm around me. We sat there for a few moments, ignoring our troubles, just happy that we had each other for comfort.

That would be my last moment of happiness with Zane, possibly for the rest of my life.

Zane looked up. I asked, "What is it now?" in a dreary, sleepy voice.

He paused, before saying, "I'm not sure. I thought I heard something—"

His head was suddenly punched backwards while a sickening spray of blood launched from his temple. He gagged, moaned, and slumped forward.

Shocked by what had just happened, I began to scream for the guard. But my scream was abruptly cut short by a black figure that dashed across the room, slammed me against the wall, and clasped a hand over my mouth. An ominous, L-shaped object was pressed long point forward against my forehead.

I quickly looked over my captor. I wasn't a serpiente, but I could still detect the odor of human coming of the man. He was dressed in all black and had strange pockets all over him. A strange headset was tied on his forehead. The man was strong, strong enough to hold me in place with one hand and use his body to keep me from kicking or lashing out. I feared that I was about to be raped, but that was not what happened.

The man leaned in next to my left ear and growled, "Not a sound, avian." He paused (probably for effect), before saying, "Answer my question and you'll live to see your friends."

I chanced a look down, and nearly vomited at the sight. In the struggle, Zane was knocked to the ground. Blood was pooling around him on the floor of the bed chamber. It seemed to be coming from a circular hole in his temple. His garnet cobra eyes had already clouded over. My mate was dead.

Another scream rose in my throat, but my captor kept it from coming out. Still holding me against the wall, he asked, "Are you Danica Shardae, Tuuli Thea of the avians and Naga of the serpiente? Mate," he paused, seemingly mocking me, "of the recently deceased Zane Cobriana?"

I couldn't speak. In my shock, I nodded at the human's question.

The man chuckled darkly. He seemed to possess the very essence of darkness and cruelty. He spun me around so that he was holding me against him. He leaned forward again and said, "Now, I want you to shape shift into your full hawk form. Got it? Do it, now."

The command was so cold that I never thought twice, either of how he knew who I was and what I could do, or of resisting the command. My body shrank as feathers appeared on my skin. A pair of golden wings sprouted from my back, startling (to my satisfaction) my captor, who moved back. He was eventually forced to kneel in order to keep hold of my hawk body. I could have stabbed him with my razor-sharp beak and forced him to let go of me, but the pure terror of the moment kept me docile. I was a proud golden hawk, yet I was as helpless as a newborn chick.

I heard a rustling sound from behind me. The L-shaped object disappeared, only to be replaced by an even larger object. This object also had a protruding tip—two, as a matter of fact.

"Thank you, madam," the man said in his malicious jeering way.

I felt something enter my side, where the object was pressed against me. There was a sharp sting of pain, then numbness, as I felt my hawk body crumple to the floor, next to my dead alistair.