SEALS

Chapter 13: Wounded Innocence

"Do you believe in dragons, Wander?"

She rolled over on their picnic-blanket, propping herself up on her elbows. Mono gave him one of those inquisitive looks he could not resist, even if he was unsure about how to answer her.

"I've never seen one, if that's what you're asking," he replied.

"They're long and graceful, like snakes that move upon the air. That's what the priests say. They're supposed to be holy."

"So, if I ever see one, I'm not supposed to hunt it, right?"

"That's right… and if you're lucky, it may grant you a wish."

"Those are just children's stories, Mono," Wander groaned. "I've ranged far and wide and have never seen one."

"You haven't seen one – yet."

The dragon rose from the desert sands. Wander sat astride his horse staring up at it in awe. He'd finally found a dragon… but it was a Colossus. If it was, indeed, a holy creature, this was the ultimate tragedy – to see something scared twisted and bound by stone and black blood.

He spurred Agro across the desert blight, following the strange, beautiful being. It made no move to attack him. He did not know if it was even watching him. It seemed to be content merely to be awake and to drift across the sky.

Wander observed that the stone dragon had what looked like soft, inflated sacks along its underside. The "physiology" of the Colossi continued to baffle the young hunter. It was like nothing he'd seen in any other manner of creature. They were beings of stone and earth, animate mountains that moved elegantly given their size. Some had shown impossible balance, while the smallest of them had struck with the nimble speed of a cat. This one flew with a simple grace. He had a good guess as to how to bring it down. The problem was; he did not want to.

Mono looked sheepish and worried as she let her legs dangle over the edge of the wall they sat on. "One of the priests who came to bless my family's lands yesterday said that he'd had a dream about me," she said.

"Not a bad one, I hope," Wander said dourly.

"I don't know. All I know is that he met with my father and that he and some of the priests are coming to my home to examine me tomorrow."

Fear shot through Wander's heart and his eyes showed it.

Curses came in many forms in their culture, most often in the form of sicknesses. He had experienced the vengeance of lizards. Some curses were simple and could be cured or recovered from. Other curses were cause for sacrifice.

When someone was found with an illness-curse that was sure to kill them, it was considered merciful for the priests to "give them to the gods." In fact, sacrificing individuals due to curses that were already upon them was considered an elegant solution to the problem of showing proper devotion. The world ran upon cycles, including that of life and death. In order for the rivers to flow and the rain to fall upon their land, the gods demanded a show of devotion in the giving of that other fluid of life: blood. The blood of warriors kept the city-state defended. The blood of animals was given at important festivals. Occasionally, the blood of an innocent young person was needed as a proper exchange for important favors. Those found to have curses upon them already were the logical donors of this sacred blood.

Occasionally, curses were the subject of prophecy and not an issue of health. If one of the seer-priests were to have a powerful nightmare concerning misfortune swarming around an individual, they might demand a sacrifice to prevent the evil that individual was soon to bring to everyone around them.

"Wander..." Mono said gently as she put her hand over his. "It is probably nothing to worry about. The priests have visions all the time of people the gods have chosen to be temple-servants. They probably want to give me an elevated station… to make me a cleaner, or one who pours out the sacred water. They have been sort of workers around the temple lately, and you know they rely upon dreams for that."

"As long as they don't make you a high temple maiden…"

"It would be a great honor," the young woman said with a sad smile.

"But to be a higher-level servant or a maiden-priestess… they'd require you to be chaste. I'm not sure I can live with that."

His smile was roguish.

"I…" she said, leaning in close to him, her lips inches from his, "… would definitely become one of those disgraced priestesses who break their vows…"

The burst air-sacs sprayed misty black gore over the desert that dissipated and evaporated before it hit the ground. The Colossus tilted low over the desert, moving like a stream of honey running down a plate. It eased two pairs of great stone "wings" into the ground, four flukes that drew patterns in the sand that were lost as soon as they were created.

Wander rode hard up along side this portrait of wounded elegance, grateful for the speed of a horse. He choked through the clouds of dust the stone dragon was kicking up.

A knock upon the door of his family home roused Wander. He answered it to face a man in priestly robes and an ominous mask. The young man remembered, suddenly, the myth that was told at the last great bonfire ceremony. Lord Emon had worn that mask then – the mask that related to the legend of the Horned. There were many knights behind him. He heard the voice of someone he could not see behind the crowd.

"Wander!"

Wander burst out the door. He was held back by both Emon and one of his strong guardians.

"We came to inform you," Lord Emon began slowly. "She was betrothed to you. You should find a new mate, young man."

"What? No! What's going on! Mono!"

Two knights restrained him now as he fought and grunted. He kicked and even tried to bite one of them. A man brought Mono forward. Her hands were tied together behind her. She leaned over until her nose – dripping with tears – brushed his. Emon nodded, signaling his men to allow them to kiss before pulling the young woman back.

"She has been found to have a cursed fate," the elder said. "We are very sorry, but for her to continue in this world will bring you only misfortune."

As Mono was pulled back as the men made to leave, she cried out. "Don't let them kill me, Wander!"

And that was the last he heard before he charged toward her and was knocked unconscious with a swift blow to the back of the head.

After Wander had jumped off the falling highway in the sky and had rolled in the sands to safety, he watched it skid to its final rest. He could hear his horse making a racket behind him - concerned for him or just fearful of the crash and noise of the dying Colossus, he was not sure.

The young warrior clutched his sword, clean of the black and innocent blood it has shed. He stared at his kill as shadow began to envelop its lengthy form. As he stood, he noticed moisture drip off his nose and off his chin. Wander was weeping.

He had not cared for the things he'd killed in this land. Of late, he'd been engaged in murder with a driving passion, losing even the compassion their eyes. This creature was different. All were innocent, beings whose territory he'd invaded but this one – this "holy dragon" had been truly innocent.

An innocent-but-cursed being spilled its blood for the sake of the cycle of life and this time, he had been the one to perform the ritual. His fingers loosened on the hilt of the sword, but he did not drop it.

The shadows came over him and he could feel one of the threads brush his lips in a farewell kiss.