Ripped

She merely sat in the corner, hugging her knees as vacant eyes watched over the scene.  Blues and greens spread across her shoulder like ink spilt on paper.  The booming voice and resounding smack registered not on her face though her mind screamed on and on.

A few feet away a small body slid across the floor.  His eyes were shut tight, fearful of seeing the next blow come his way.  Over and over he tried to convince himself that closing his eyes would prevent another backhanded hit.  But it never worked.  As the child lay on the floor motionless, praying his tormentor would leave, he chanced a glance at his mother.  She sat huddled; an empty shell that had at one time tickled his toes and smiled.

A burly hand grasped the boy’s shirt, yanking him into the air.  As he hung suspended, another hand roughly spun the child’s body, causing the shirt to twist, slowly tightening around his throat.  Unable to hold his silence, the boy coughed and struggled to breathe.  The spinning stopped and he found himself face-to-face with Him: his tormentor, his thief of happiness.  His cruel black eyes, lopsided grin and facial scars caused the boy to shudder involuntarily.  The giant of a man flung the boy against the wall, his body falling into a crumpled heap next to his mother, and taunted him.  “You’ll never be a man at this rate, boy.”

As the tormentor stomped towards the duo, the boy’s mother looked down at her son.  His bruised face caught her waning attention, but it was his eyes that finally broke her.  The child stared up at her in love and she recognized him once again.  She felt her throat open up as the scream that escaped it permeated the air.  Though her scream was unintelligible, it was a scream of protest and anguish and their tormentor knew it.

The boy fearfully stared as the man reached out to grab him by the throat.  He began to shake, trembling in fear, unsure if this would be the last time that hand would be seen by his eyes.  As he shut his eyes and began to pray, his mother reached out and grabbed the man’s arm and bit him.  The man howled in pain and kicked the woman in the stomach.  She let go of his arm and he grabbed her by the hair and hauled her to her feet.  The boy watched as the mother who saved his life began to lose hers.  Over and over he watched the man beat her until a bright light seared his eyes. 

Suddenly, voices overwhelmed the previous silence for the last year.  A body hit the floor and the sound of a fight ensued.  The boy crawled over to the spot where a body laid, hands groping for flesh in the blinding brightness of the daylight coming in.  He touched hair, long soft hair.  He moved his hand slowly until he touched her face, searching for her eyes.  They were closed, still and lifeless.  He shook her, rubbed her cheeks, called out to her, but he got nothing from her.  He felt another set of hands take hold of him, smaller hands, but hands that grabbed.  They gently hauled him up and placed him in the arms of a woman.

She turned away and began to walk towards the light.  The boy reached out towards his mother’s body and screamed.  He struggled to get free, to run towards his mother.  He bit the woman on the shoulder and kicked her with his feet, but still she did not let him go; if anything he could feel her arms hug him tighter.  But all he wanted to do was return to his mother and see her brown eyes smile and feel her tickle his toes.  He reached out for her sobbing, and watched her form recede from his view slowly until there was nothing left but the glare of the outside and the dying of his heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The punch landed just right, sending Xinthe’s head snapping backwards violently.  He felt the throb of pain in his jaw and the sting left on his skin.  He dodged another swing and wiped his mouth, smearing blood across the back of his hand.  Xinthe ran full on towards the guy in front of him and tackled him, arms wrapped tightly around the chest.  They both hit the ground, though Xinthe was at a distinct advantage being the one on top.

His foe threw his weight to the side and they rolled across the dusty work yard.  Back and forth they rolled, each trying to strangle the other until Xinthe spotted a sharp jagged rock about a meter away.  Throwing his weight in the direction of the rock, Xinthe felt the boy he held in his hands grunt as they rolled on.  He punched him in the throat and the boy stopped fighting as Xinthe found himself on the ground and his enemy on top.  With what little strength was left in his body, Xinthe lifted himself and the boy off of the ground and flipped. 

The sound of the bully’s back impaling on the jagged rock underneath made his stomach slightly queasy as Xinthe felt the arms of the boy release their hold on him.  Just for extra measure, Xinthe pushed off the boy’s body roughly, further embedding the rock into his back.  Just as he kicked his nemesis in the ribs, he felt four strong arms grab him from behind and wrestle him to the ground.  Forced to his knees, he watched the healer attend to the other boy’s injuries.  As the two men behind him bound his wrists, he smiled as the healer looked at the wound in his enemy’s back.  It bled profusely and Xinthe appreciated the bright red glow to the boy’s formerly crisp white shirt.

****

“Not again, Xinthe.” Mrs. Dorney sighed as she dropped his file on the table.  “We can’t do this for much longer and your foster parents are at their wits end.  I know this isn’t ea--”

"When is it ever!  He had it coming.  He has bothered me since the day I arrived and I had had it with him.  He deserved a lot more.”  Xinthe stopped abruptly before his words made his case worse than it already was.

“Regardless, there isn’t much I can do.  You have dug yourself in a hole, Xinthe,” She spoke softly and wanted to touch his shoulder and tell him it was all going to be better.  But in reality, she had seen this too many times before.  “A hole that only you can fill to get out of.  I have no choice in this decision; there aren’t anymore families left.  I have no where to send you and no room at the student’s house.  The board says that I have to let you go.”

The words fell on his ears and his mind reeled at the implication.  There was nowhere for him anymore.  Nowhere.  Mrs. Dorney arranged for his departure to be quiet and swift.  She had no desire to hurt the boy more than he already was and will be for eternity.  She cried as she watched him walk away from the complex he had spent his last ten years, shoulders bent and head low.  She knew he cried; God knew how often she had heard those sobs.  But there was nothing she could do; it was out of her hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He couldn’t figure out what was worse, the hunger in his stomach or the hunger in his heart.  For a year he had traveled around, unable to stay in any one place.  His temper and troubled mind interfered with normal life functions.  Too many people made him nervous.  Tall or muscular men reduced him into a weeping five year old.  Women with brown laughing eyes broke his heart.  And watching a teacher reminded him of Mrs. Dorney, who had tried so hard to make him into something more than the lice infested vagabond he had become.  His mind and heart was safe in no town and he moved constantly.

He gazed at his surroundings through weary bloodied eyes, realizing that he had been carried into the sands of Nethesea.  Thankfully he was at an oasis, but his eyes couldn’t detect the outline of a town anywhere near his position.  Rolling over onto his side, Xinthe discovered a pool of blue water and gingerly scooped some of it into his mouth.  The water was sweet and cool causing Xinthe to plunge his head into the water.  The cold bit into his skin, chilling his very skull and Xinthe’s head throbbed.

He pulled his head from the water and shook his head.  It seemed too unnatural for an oasis in the middle of Nethesea to be this chilling.  Taking a deep breath, Xinthe plunged his head once again into the freezing, biting water and opened his eyes.  He could feel his eyes begin to freeze in the water but fought the urge to pull out again.  Down at the bottom of the pool, he saw it.  Its silvery gleam winked in and out with the ripples as they traveled across the surface.  Taking another breath above he dove into the water and ignored the searing pain from his last beating and swam hard for the bottom.

It felt like eternity passed him by as each stroke brought him closer and closer to his prize.  Finally, lungs threatening to explode and eyes near frozen, he grasped the silvery oblong object and hauled it to the surface.  Xinthe threw himself onto the sand and sucked in warm air in an attempt to warm his cold body and calm his chattering teeth.  He lay there for hours, hand over the object, exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt.  He dozed off until a movement awoken him.  The object rocked violently, vibrating, and Xinthe wanted to flee.  But his curiosity stayed his feet and he watched the object dance beneath his hands.

At first, the cracks were barely noticeable.  But then, without warning the object split into four sections, cradling a small black and silver creature.  The thing mewed and cried, pitifully calling out for something or someone.  Xinthe started to get to his feet, afraid that whatever it was had summoned its mother.  But to his surprise, the creature stood on weak legs and stumbled towards him.  Xinthe stood perfectly still, not wanting to scare it away.  He reached out towards the little creature and touched its head with his index finger.

The little animal squeaked and headbutted his hand, unfurling wings of silver gossamer.  When it looked up at Xinthe, its silver eyes swirled golden.  At that moment, nothing could have moved him or distracted his attention away from this little creature.  It was then he realized what it was that he was touching.  Beneath his hands, rubbing its miniature crested head, was a dragon.  A real live dragon baby!  As if sensing Xinthe’s acknowledgement, the baby dragon stood up on its hind legs and blew a puff of frozen air into Xinthe’s face.  His face stung, especially under his left eye, but it was over in a matter of seconds.

Lifting his hand to his left eye, Xinthe felt something etched into his skin.  He looked into the water and saw his reflection.  Under his left eye was a snowflake, perfectly carved yet looked as if it belonged there.  Without warning, his mind and heart flooded with emotion and thought.  Warmth spread through his limbs, wrapping him in a blanket of acceptance, peace and love.  Gone were the memories, the hurts and pains.  Gone was the knowledge that he was hopeless and pathetic.  In its place was acceptance, joy and, dare he think it, the feeling of family?

The baby dragon leapt into his arms and nuzzled his face.  That was when he heard the three words that would change his life forever. I am Estoral.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xinthe patted the long neck of Estoral.  I swear, if we get called to turn around one more ship, I will be done with Thestar.  And its mayor can just kiss--

Xinthe!

What?  You hate those errands too, you know.  I hear your thoughts as well as you hear mine.

We have a duty and if that includes turning a ship around that is trying to shortchange the dockmaster of Thestar, then that is what we do.

Bah, so be it.  But if you so much as complain to me later…

I won’t.  Hold on.

Estoral dove down through the clouds and spread out her wings, an audible snap echoed through the town square.  She landed cracefully and Xinthe unbuckled his restraint.  Ten years ago, he would never have imagined dragons grew so big.  Thankfully, Estoral helped him get down with her front arm.  Otherwise, he would be condemned to sliding down her hide.  That was a most embarrassing way to dismount a dragon.

Thestar’s mayor ran up to Xinthe, wringing his hands and looking nervously at Estoral.  “I have receieved a note from the king.  All dragonriders are expected to report to Greenhigh Range.  There is something awful going on and it requires that all dragons this side of Croatu report there to fight.”

“The Greenhigh Range?  But I was just there.  I saw nothing.  Estoral sensed nothing.”  Xinthe stared down at the portly dignitary and narrowed his eyes.  “Are you sure you got the message right?”

The mayor stepped back in fear.  “Well.  Y-y-yes I think so.  Maybe the message said the southern tip of Greenhigh Range?” The mayor’s voice cracked slightly.  “King’s order.”

Xinthe sighed loudly, “Does anyone here know what the message said?”  He knew that the mayor tended to forget things in the presence of Estoral.

The mayor’s assistant stepped forward. “I believe the message said the northernmost peaks, close to the frozen lakes of Naligh, Dragonfighter.  According to the document, you will be waited for on a wide flat cliff overlooking the lakes.”

Xinthe bowed to her, “Thank you, my lady, that is most helpful.”  He turned and mock-bowed to the mayor, “Always a pleasure.”

Was that really necessary, Xinthe?  Surely you have more grace in you than that?

Not at the moment.  Shall we?

We shall.  Estoral proffered her leg.  Climb aboard and hold on tight.

Estoral leapt into the air gracefully and pushed hard with her silvery wings, sending a cloud of dust all over the little town.  As she pumped her wings up and down to attain elevation, Xinthe bid the town of Thestar goodbye.  Good riddance, he thought ad Estoral turned her great body in the air and headed towards the northern peaks.  So Estoral, what do you think is so urgent, that we are being sent up close to the Lakes of Naligh?

I don’t know, Xinthe.  But so far, I am not sensing any other dragons.  I mean we are few and far between, but usually we can sense each other when allied in a common purpose.

That bothers me, Estoral.  If you don’t receive contact in the next thirty minutes, I will seriously consider falling back.

I agree completely.  If the king is summoning aid, then this is big.  I do not want to stand alone and fight.

Estoral soared onward towards the lakes; the air growing colder every second.  Soon, the snowy peaks of Greenhigh Range came into view.  Just as Xinthe was going to tell Estoral to turn back, she informed him that she could detect a faint call from an approaching dragon.  Somewhat mollified, Xinthe told her to continue on.

After a few more moments of cold flight, icicles forming on his woolen riding cloak, Xinthe spotted the lakes shimmering in the sunlight.  What strange, yet beautiful lakes.  Though so far north, they never freeze over.  Ahhh, Estoral, I see the cliff to the left.  Take us down.

Alright, Xinthe, going down.  Estoral performed a perfect spiral dive towards the cliff, elegantly displaying her wings to catch the air as she moved downward.  A single individual stood on the cliff, awaiting the arrival of dragons.  Xinthe waved towards the person as Estoral settled onto the ground.  Patting her leg, Xinthe departed for the individual awaiting their arrival and sent Estoral off to explore.  The icy mountains were more home for her than anywhere else in the world and they came here frequently to enjoy a little solitude and regeneration.

As he approached the individual waiting for htem, Xinthe took the opportunity to study this person.  By build, he assumed that the person was a man, though a mages robe can be deceiving.  The man was also hooded, which made Xinthe a little nervous.  In his experience, those with hoods either harbored secrets worth killing for or they were hiding disfigurement that made you question their chosen lifestyles.  Either way, he was beginning to feel very uncomfortable regarding this call.  The back of his mind tingled and he sought out Estoral.  I have a bad feeling about this.

As I, Xinthe.  The lone dragon that I felt earlier is no longer there.  As if he merely disappeared.

Xinthe’s eyes focused on the hooded man.  Or wasn’t there at all!

What?  How is that possible?

Come back, Estoral.  We need to flee.

Estoral turned sharply and flew as fast as her wings could back to the cliff.  She landed behind Xinthe and stood tall and menacingly.  She roared her challenge as Xinthe turned to climb into his dragonsaddle.  Xinthe heard a quiet chuckle and turned to see what was so funny.  The hood rose and fell with each bout of laughter issuing from the inside. 

“Do you really think you will leave this place?  By now, surely you have figured out that you are the only one left.  I have hunted every one of you; every stupid, gifted Dragonrider in existence.  All except you, the one that serves in the seclusion of the southern isles and never comes to the mainland except to come here.”  The voice spoke evenly, treacherously; it dripped with the venom of hate and Xinthe shuddered.  As Xinthe turned to get up on Estoral’s leg, the man spoke.  “I wouldn’t try getting away just yet.” With a wave of a deeply sleeved arm, Estoral began to scream out and Xinthe felt her pain as if it was his own.  It paralyzed him and he felt as if he was going to burn from the inside out.

Both Estoral and Xinthe dropped to their knees, grimacing as the effect of the spell wore off.  Xinthe looked on as the hooded man walked towards them.  His voice was quiet, though Xinthe assumed that the man was about to cast a spell on one of them.  When nothing happened after the chant was finished, Xinthe looked around in disbelief.  In the distance, a shrill roar echoed through the mountain range and Estoral looked up into the sky in fear.  Xinthe heard her thoughts but they were jumbled and panicked.  He had never seen his beloved dragon like this and looked back at the hooded man in anger.

“What did you do?  Why are we here?  Answer me!” Xinthe roared and dove headfirst into the mage, but never reached the man’s body.  A magical barrier prevented Xinthe from being able to touch the mage.

“I will not fall for that again,” the mage snarled.  Blinking, Xinthe looked at the mage, hearing words that made no sense to him.  What does he mean, again?  His confusion spread across his face and the mage laughed.  “You have no idea who I am, do you?  When I heard that you had bonded to a dragon, I was beside myself.  You of all people did not deserve a dragon.  I was supposed to have one.  That egg was mine!”

The mage raised his hand a sent a shockwave of pain, slamming into Xinthe and Estoral.  Xinthe struggled to breathe, the pain was so great.  His eyes blurred, but enough of his sight was left to watch the enormous form of a dragon raise above the edge of the cliff.  It bugled out its challenge and lunged at Estoral, descending on her with speed that was unnatural.  Talons ripped through her flesh, followed by a stream of fire that erupted from the mouth of the great beast.  The fire flowed over Estoral’s body, scorching her skin and Xinthe commanded her to fly away.

Estoral spread her wings out and attempted to fly, but the fire dragon was on her immediately and hurled her back down to the surface of the cliff.  Xinthe tried to run to her and drew his blade; the silver metal flashing in the sunlight.  Mysteriously, the only creature the flash alerted was Estoral.  The fire dragon didn’t flinch or swivel its great head to investigate the flash of reflected light. 

Again, the hooded man laughed aloud at Xinthe’s attempts.  A spoken word was all it took to yank Xinthe back by the back of his shirt.  It held him aloft in the air and the hooded man walked underneath him.  “Still, have you not figured who I am yet?  After all this time, have you forgotten me so easily?”  With a flick of his arm, Xinthe felt himself spin, his shirt gathering above him as the shirt collar tightened around his throat.  Everytime he was able to see his precious Estoral, she was being beaten down by the fire dragon.  He saw the gashes in her skin and her blood pooled beneath her body.

As Xinthe’s collar began to choke him, he tried to call out to her, but his voice was inaudible and her mind was bombarded and beaten.  Without warning, he body was flung through the air and he crashed into a few boulders that stood alone in the middle of the flat cliff surface.  He laid there and stared at her, loving her more at that moment than ever before.  He admired her courage and fight and respected her more than anyone else in his life.  Her eyes met his and she fought free, biting the neck of the fire dragon in one last effort to save her bonded, her beloved.

The mage raised a hand and blasted her with shards of fired glass, penetrating her hide and causing her so much pain.  Violently wrapping his talons around her, the fire dragon picked her up, ripped out her throat and dropped her to the ground.  Xinthe heard her body hit the ground and he attempted to crawl to her, to touch her once again.  The mage followed along, gloating over his victory.  He snapped his fingers and the fire dragon disappeared, a mere figment of magical imagination. 

“You took my life from me.  I was supposed to be a great warrior.  But no, you ended that dream the day you fought me and plunged that rock into my back.”  The mage kicked Xinthe, but he continued to pull forward.  “That rock severed the muscle in my back, rendering my left arm useless with a sword.  Every healer tried to ply their specialized arts to heal me and make me whole, but you ruined my life.  I had to trade my soul to acquire the ability to hone magic.  But trade I did, and resolved to hunt down ever dragonrider until I killed you.  Now, no one will ever ride a dragon again.”

Xinthe reached out and caressed the face of Estoral, her breathing slowed and her eyes were shut.  He felt them closed and still, never to open again.  As she died, his mind was torn in two.  Every shred of life, love and joy tore from his mind.  He felt Estoral leave him, emptying the space that she once filled in his heart and mind.  His mind shattered into a thousand pieces.  He screamed in desperation, as his felt the shreds of his mind tear into his soul.  Over and over, he screamed as he felt himself being dragged away from her body.  He reached out for her sobbing, and watched her form recede from his view slowly until there was nothing left but the glare of the outside and the dying of his heart.