The Crimson Knights left little more than fire and blood. Trapped within their cage, Johnathan and Yael could only watch and listen to the slaughter. That has all long ended now. Even the sounds of flames have begun to die down.
“We are safe now.”
Yael shows no concern for the atrocities committed just a few thin bars away. He puts his large, clawed hand on the cell door and pushes gently. A loud clang follows shortly after as the door hits the floor. Yael quickly leaves the confined cell. He stands at his full height, nearly twice that of Johnathan, stretching himself in the afternoon sun. His wings extended far from each side. The bat-like membrane is torn and far too small for wings so long. A tail, previously hidden, drags across the floor.
“You could have done that this whole time?” Johnathan shouts indignantly. “We could have done something! We could have saved them! You were never a prisoner!”
Yael merely rolls his eyes at Johnathan’s naivete.
“The cell was not what made me a prisoner, the weapons did. Does not matter if it is in the paws of a Ruatt or the armored pauldron of a Crimson Knight. Now, all the weapon holders are dead or gone and I am a prisoner no more; simple as that.”
Behind Yael comes the familiar sound of a rifle racking a round into the chamber. He turned lazily to see a barrel pointed directly at him.
“Are weapons all you care about? Does this make you afraid now?”
Yael remains unimpressed.
“You won’t fire.”
“How are you so certain? You think I haven’t used one of these? That I haven’t killed before?”
“I know you have. It is obvious in the way you hold that slug thrower. The look in your eyes. You have seen war before, have you not? You know the sound a, whatever you happen to call yourself, makes when they breathe their final breath. Who was the first? An enemy? An ally? A friend, perhaps?”
“Shut up. Just shut your snaggle tooth mouth before I-”
“Before you what? Stand there as I do what I please? You have strength that easily matches my own. Yet you did nothing. You may have once been a warrior. Now, you are nothing.”
Yael bends down, placing the barrel of the rifle directly between his eyes.
“Do it. Prove me to be wrong.”
Johnathan’s finger lay on the trigger. Just a single, slight pull and he will become the first to slay a dragon since the medieval ages. A single, simple action is all that is required to end a life. It is so easy; too easy.
The rifle is dropped upon the sands followed by Johnathan as he falls to his knees.
“As I thought.”
Yael walks towards a Rautt. He lifts its body and inspects it. Like a dutiful wife inspecting a chicken carcass they minted to make for a family dinner. He finds this headless specimen satisfactory. Opening his jaw for a quick nosh.
“Put it down.”
Johnathan finds his voice again. Though his face still points to the sands.
“Either I eat this creature, or the scavengers do. What is one dead Rautt to you?”
Yael returns to his meal-to-be, interrupted by the cracking bellow of a bullet fired into the air.
“I said put it down.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Johnathan again points the rifle at Yael. He was ready to dismiss the small, pink nuisance once again. Until he looked into Johnathan’s eyes. It was different this time.
“Fine. Do you have any qualms about Lezzans?”
Yael motions towards a deceased lizard-donkey. Johnathan answers by lowering the barrel. Yael takes this as a yes and drops the Rautt back into the sands. He instead picks up the Lezzan carcass and, using a sharp index claw, slices a leg clean off with the skill of a passable butcher. He then tears the flesh from the bones and devours it raw. Yael speaks with a mouth half full.
“We must gather supplies, especially water. The Crimson Knights would have certainly poisoned the oasis. After we divide what we find, you may go whatever way you wish.”
Johnathan hovers over the dead Rautt. He’s miles away at the moment.
“You said scavengers would eat their bodies. We cannot allow that.”
“What matters are their bodies to you? They chained you up and tossed you in a cell with me to be my meal. Treat them as they were going to treat you and let their bodies rot.”
Johnathan continues to stare. He will receive no help in this task. He lifts the Rautt body with one hand. They are far lighter than Johnathan expected. Or perhaps he is far stronger now. Which matters little. It makes his mission easier upon his body. Just not his soul.
Work continues until nightfall. The Rautts’ bodies piled together with as much dignity as could be provided. Wood wrapped in cloth from their destroyed tents were carefully spaced to act as tinder. Oil and other fuels poured liberally on every possible surface. All the while Yael did no more than watch from the side. Amused by the pink ones' efforts. Johnathan stands at the edge, torch in hand.
“We should say a few words.”
“What use is that? No one will hear them.”
“That’s not the point. It’s to honor them.”
“Honor?” Yael spits on the sand. “Rautt have no honor. They are dirty peddlers. Nothing more. We were their wares mere hours ago. I have no words that could honor such vermin.”
Yael punctuates his disdain by tearing into another Lezzan leg. Johnathan wants to say something back. Something that could show the importance of the ritual. No words are uttered. He did not know these Rautt long. What little time was spent with them was not pleasant. They were enemies, and enemies deserve to be buried.
“They were alive. That is enough to not deserve such a fate.”
The torch is thrown, igniting a quickly growing blaze. The two unlikely companions watch as the fire engulfs the last remains of those poor souls.
“Those Knights. Who were they?”
“You don’t know?” Yael laughs, deep and hardily. “I knew you were from far away. Just not that far. Who are you, stranger? I have told you my creed.”
“My name is Johnathan Cromtwell. I come from the state of Kansas. I suppose you haven’t heard of that and wouldn’t be able to give me directions, would you?”
“I am afraid I can not Than of the Kingdom of Kansas.”
“Than?” Johnathan can’t hide his confusion? “Who is Than?”
“You are. Is it not customary in your culture to shorten names for ease and convenience? My full name is Quartanyael. Hence, Yael. And you, Than.”
“Where I come from we usually use the first part of the name, not the last. So you’d be Quar.”
“That is certainly a way to do that. Seems rather silly to me.”
“How about we meet in the middle. You can be Yael and I will be John. That seem fair?”
“I suppose, John of the Kingdom of Kansas.”
“Close enough. Now, those Knights. Who are they?”
Yael sits down in the sand. He plays with a ring on the middle finger of his left hand. An indent where a gem once was.
“They are Crimson Knights of the Crimson Empire, my empire. Or at least, it was.”
“Was?”
“Yes. I was deposed by my brother. It was merely the Crimson Kingdom when I ruled. Since taking power with the help of Crystalline Supremacy, he has endeavored to conquer all the Five Worlds. Turning the Crimson Empire into the Pentastar Empire.”
“Is that what happened to your wings?”
Yael nods. Remembering old wounds that still bleed.
“He took everything from me. My Kingdom, my power, my wings; even my wife. If not for the loyalty of a few, brave servants, he would have taken my life as well. I have been running ever since. Trying desperately to find a means to regain what was taken from me.”
“Is that why they did not kill us? Are some still loyal?”
“No. These are not my Knights. My Knights would see such lowly pillaging as beneath them. And, should they happen upon someone wanted as heavily as I, would have not hesitated to take them in chains or slay them on the spot. My brother’s Knights are far more crude. Loyal to a fault. They do as they are told. No more, no less.”
They sit, watching the fire in silence. There is much left to be said. There is no energy left to say it.
“Rest John of Kansas. The fire will keep us safe for the night. We have far to travel once the sun rises.”
