Another's Memory
The city had only just been getting better fortifications to protect it from the threats of the west. Quarries full of quality stone were just recently unearthed, leading to a growing industry of sculptors and masons popping up alongside three growing pits full of dust, working men, and dragons. With these new resources, the city was starting to replace its pitiable wooden stake walls with mighty stone ramparts, but it was a long and laborious process. Many of the locals with free time contributed to the construction even if they had no experience in construction, leading to day and night shifts, with handsome pay as well. However, this didn’t mean the guards and soldiers standing watch could rest easy. There were still threats within the city, and all the construction meant there were many holes filled by hollow scaffolding and the beginnings of stone walls.
One of the new guards stood on the wall, overlooking the farmlands beyond, taking in the sight under the cover of the night and the stars above. He was young and enthusiastic, enjoying working alongside dragons that stood watch on the stones like gargoyles.
“It’s a bit cold tonight, isn’t it?” he asked one such ‘gargoyle’ perched on a flat outcrop of stone next to him.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not a squishy flesh thing,” she mocked. “I’ve got scales. Cold doesn’t get through them,” she said before gurgling in amusement.
The young guard stuck his tongue out. “Everyone feels the cold one way or another,” he insisted.
“Not this sesyphur,” she claimed. “I’m perfectly immune to all of that nonsense.”
She enjoyed seeing the new guard baffled at what she had just said. “You what? This is a natural phenomenon. You can’t just be immu--”
“Newbie!” an angry voice shouted. “Stop cavorting with the dragon! You let a would-be thief through!”
The young man immediately stood straight, his spear almost falling out of his hands. Where he wore cheap leather armor with some mail around his arms and chest, the barrel-chested man standing before him wore half-plate with gambeson beneath it, keeping him warm.
“You’re not here to play with the little dwagons sitting on dere wittle spots,” the man said derisively. “You’re here to work and keep an eye out for any threats!” He moved toward the dragoness and jabbed her throat with a finger. “And you! You aren’t here to play! That time is over! You watch for threats, then you sleep, then you work again! That’s all! No talking!” The dragoness said nothing, her featureless, blank eyeballs unmoving. “Good.” The man adjusted his plated with a tug and walked away, shoving the ‘thief’ held in place by the young man’s fellows. “Get moving, scum. I’ll teach you to try and steal your way into my city to harass my people while I’m stationed here!”
When the guard and his fellows were gone, the dragoness, still immobile, snorted. “He sure is a hard hat,” she said.
“Yes, but he’s right. We should have been paying better attention instead of talking.”
The sesyphur grabbed a loose piece of rock from her perch and launched it at something below, extracting a pained grunt from the target. “I wasn’t being negligent,” she said. “That person didn’t come from our part of the wall. Most likely your doofus sergeant caught him sneaking around here and blamed that on us.”
“Oh...” The young man looked around, pensively, instinctively hugging his leather outfit closer to him when a freezing gust of wind blew through. “It’s freezing!”
“Then you should have stationed yourself next to a brazier,” the dragoness mused further.
The new guard wasn’t amused, however. “Do you have to keep taunting me? I don’t appreciate it.”
He received an annoyed grunt in response. “Oh. So you’re one of those,” she lamented. “All work and no play. It’s tedious enough to sit here and watch nothing for hours on end.”
The young man tensed himself. “I’m fine with teasing, but you’re going into bullying territory.”
The dragoness turned her head to look at him, her featureless eyes wide in surprise. “Really? I was toning it down. I didn’t realize there was such a difference between us and you humans. The ashkrak tend to ignore anything we have to say, so we never communicate verbally with them.”
Baffled, questions starting filling the young guard’s head. “Really? No one talks with you? None of you? At all?”
The sesyphur looked back into the distance, scanning every minute movement. “I’m being hyperbolic. Our caretakers and taskmasters still speak with us, but discussions are minimal. Just the usual ‘Are you sick?’, ‘Make sure to do this and that’.” She huffed. “It’s annoying.”
“Then why don’t you just leave?”
“Because they will hunt us down, and we have all we need here,” the dragoness explained. She stared at the human, causing him to reflexively clench his fists. “Better to survive here where we were born than to risk dying for something stupid out there.”
The young man felt a rage boil deep within him, but he wasn’t sure where the feeling came from. Everything seemed to blur as time went on, and he felt the night shift starting to get to him. He could have sworn the dragoness was looking at him with regret, but it was hard to tell in the dark and with her lack of features. He had always been fascinated by dragons and wanted to work alongside them. Why, he even wished to have one of his own as a child before he was taught that they weren’t pets, but the thoughts of what they were always seemed to shift and change depending on who he asked. Tools, partners, pests, weapons, sacrifices. So many thoughts and interpretations of the same thoughts. It became obvious that coming up with one’s own thoughts was key in working alongside dragons, and that’s what he was going to do.
His body felt listless, and the sun above flowed rapidly as he stood atop the wall. The defenses seemed to grow like vines, their foundations dug out and reinforced for the stone to sit in comfortably, and as the time passed, the young guard found himself drawn more and more to the dragons, but the only one who acknowledged his existence was the same one that he was always assigned with during night watch.
It was a tedious existence for the young man. Wake up, patrol, train, eat, go to bed. Wake up, patrol, eat, go to bed. The monotony of his life made him crave more. He was taught as a young man that wanting more than you were given always led to misfortune, but he wanted to do something with his life, and staying in place, doing nothing beyond the walls, was not doing that. He had only caught a few thieves and other ne’er-do-wells that harassed the people of the city and the farmlands beyond the walls, but other than that, nothing had occurred.
Being with the sesyphur, every night, however, was a treat. To be next to such a mighty beast thrice his size was something the guard would have never dreamed of in his entire life. He had always thought of them as strange, majestic or destructive beasts. Either they would feign ignorance of a person near them or threaten their lives. Perhaps they were otherwise always on the cusp of rage, ready to destroy everything and free themselves at a moment’s notice, but the dragoness was not like that. She was a calm, collected ‘monster’ overflowing with unwanted and, sometimes exhausting, sarcasm. To know that these creatures were so similar to humans somehow endeared them to the young man, and he felt a kinship with this dragoness that grew over time.
One day, he saw several armored individuals on a wooden wagon approach the gates during dusk, making the contrast of light and dark very difficult to see through. He had alerted the guards of their presence at the gate, and after a few minutes they were let in. Peering over the inner side of the wall, the young man saw that they were draped in leather or partial iron armor, with something hidden beneath a light-blue cloth resting on the wagon. The young guard’s fellows checked beneath then gestured for them to approach the barracks further to the east of the city.
“What was that all about?” the young man wondered.
“Judging from their attire, they were either dragon hunters or dragon guardians,” the dragoness commented. Her brows furrowed and she bared her sharp teeth. “The hunters enrage me.”
“Well, that’s normal. You’re a dragon.”
“That’s not it,” the sesyphur corrected. She shifted her head slightly, producing a plethora of cracks from her neck. “The hunters are bad news overall, but if they’re around then you’re certain to have dragon guardians around.”
“What’s wrong with that?” the young man asked.
He flinched when the dragoness purred loudly, her throat gravelly. “Dragon Guardians always bring problems with them. Where the hunters exist just to kill or capture feral and rogue dragons, the guardians do the same but to escort and save said dragons, and they’re abnormally good at it.” She wiped her muzzle with a foreleg, the cold causing her nose to run and bringing even more of the horrific cracks of her articulations. Her audience was turning green at the sounds, but where she once would have seen amusement in that, there was now only dourness. “I’ve seen them in action before, escorting several dragons and dragonesses from a city far, far from here, back when I was still a drake. The rogues wanted to escape, and our soldiers and trainers tried to recapture them, then the guardians popped up. Twenty of them.”
“And they won but were left with...two?” the young man asked.
The dragoness gurgled. “No. They somehow knew of the defection beforehand and laid a bunch of traps for the soldiers and loyal dragons. Twenty against around four hundred troops and dragons.” She snorted, impaling the perch she sat on with transparent needles. “Only thirty-seven soldiers died that day, but the rest were taken out by the traps. Even the dragons were rendered ineffective with all the strange gases and traps that rendered them immobile. The guardians were all wounded, but they made it out alive with most of the rogues.”
“Most?” the young man repeated.
He was taken aback by the stern and horrified expression of the once aloof dragoness. “Never wish for war, young guard. It doesn’t matter if you want to make something of your life or crave a greater purpose. Those always lead to wars, and they are not pleasant.”
The man gripped the spear shaft harder and tightened his lips. “Well, I won’t let that happen to you,” he said firmly. “We’re partners in the protection of this city, and I won’t have anyone say otherwise, be they person or feral!”
The dragoness gurgled loudly again, and her voice seemed to echo and bounce. A week had passed since that tale, and the guard was now on a day shift with the same dragoness. He wasn’t sure if they slept or not, and he was too afraid to ask, considering the sarcasm she carried. The guardians had installed scorpions on his side of the walls, the holes still present and covered with makeshift barricades. No one had told the young guard what was happening, nor why the older guards were all on edge. Their eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets as they peered into the distance. Even the dragoness was silent and didn’t respond to his questions.
Confused, the young man shrugged and did as he always did: Stare into the distance, just with the sun above him this time. The guardians were slowly pacing along the walls, using temporary wooden platforms to bridge the gaps and checking all the ballistae and the bolt they held. Everyone was tense, but the newbies were left in the dark.
A violent shove broken the young man from his thoughts. It was the sergeant. “Chin up, boy. Today will be spectacular,” he said as he walked up to the wall and placed his hands on the crenelations. “If you’re lucky, nothing will happen, and those idiots improved our defenses for free.”
“I... Why lucky?” the young man asked.
The sergeant scoffed and stared at the young guard with wide eyes and a disturbing grin. “You’ll see soon enough if we’re unlucky instead.”
As the minutes flew by, the neophyte watched the guard holding the alarm bell just above the gatehouse clinging to the thick hemp rope like his life depended on it. The young man went for a yawn when he felt the hairs on his body stand up and his organs seize.
The sergeant leaned forward then started to yell. “Shell eater! The shell eater is here! Sound the alarm!”
“Shell eater? What’s a shell eater?” the young man screamed. “I don’t--”
He was unable to continue as the guards and soldiers all scrambled atop the walls, readying the ballistae bows. Others rushed down the wall with spear in hand, waiting in front of the gate and the gaps. Peering into the distance, the boy saw a horrific, disgustingly misshapen abomination that he was sure would mark him for the rest of his days.
It was a dragon, or at least the best approximation of one. As it approached, its features became clearer and clearer. It was standing up like a hominid, but its proportions were all wrong. The orange scales of its body were all of varying sizes and shape, creating gaps in its natural defenses. Its limbs were unnaturally short, save one leg that dragged behind it like shed skin, walking on its elongated knee instead. Its wings were shrunken stubs that fluttered like a fly’s wings and no longer served a purpose. The final, most notable trait of the shell eater was its enormous, lopsided head. It was easily three times the size of its rotund and squat torso. The left side dangled down like melted wax, with a somehow still functional eye elongated like the rest of the left side. The pupil did not move with the eyes. Rather, it slid along the white sclera, disgusting those that watched it. As it limped forward, the fields of barley, wheat, flax, various salads, and regular plant life, seemed to burn away in its presence, and the plants not in its direct vicinity immediately turned brown and started to rot. Oddly enough, the shell eater was glowing with a faint green aura.
The young man and the sergeant watched as a blue fire arrow came from behind them, and three red fire arrows came from behind a large stone outcropping a few minutes walk from the walls. Around fifty cavalrymen emerged from beneath the sparkling arrows, charging at the creature. The images seemed to slur and mix together, but the young man knew they had all fallen before the creature, including their poor mounts. Arrows rained from above, bouncing harmlessly off its drooling body and the lances stuck in the gaps.
Another sparkling arrow, this one white, reached the sky, and the young guard noticed his dragoness partner sit up, something he had never seen her do, oddly enough. “What are you doing?” he asked her.
“Earning my keep.”
The young man couldn’t help but look between her and the shell eater moaning in the distance. “No, you can’t do that! Anything that approached it dies! You saw it!”
She stretched her neck forward at him slightly then took to the skies alongside her kin as they flew toward the abomination. Horrified, the young guard made for the stairs but was caught by his sergeant and slammed violently against the ramparts.
“What are you doing, boy?” the sergeant asked.
“I’m going to help them!”
“What for? They’re just tools for our protection and growth.”
The young man stared at him, horrified. “Are you serious? They’re going to die! We worked together! They live here as much as we do!”
“They’re labor beasts, fool!” the sergeant bellowed. “When you joined the guards, you said you wanted to earn the right to wear full plate and be known in the city! To serve the royal family directly!”
Eyes darted between each other, one pair furious and the other confused.
“But--”
The young man tried to speak, but was forced up by the collar of his armor and forced to watch the dragons. “Get it through your thick skull that this is what happens! We have more dragons, and this isn’t an uncommon event. They all die, and we. Have. More,” he insisted. “Stop getting attached to beasts of burden just because they imitate speech. If we don’t stop that shell eater here, then we all die,” the sergeant explained. “We tried the cavalry and that didn’t work, much to my...displeasure...but they probed the beast, and we know what it can do. Best to send the less important things in first to make sure we understood properly.”
The young man was disgusted. “You can’t do that!”
The shell eater gurgled loudly, and its oversized head opened wide, letting loose a fountain of green vomit that hit three of the sesyphurs, one being the dragoness the young man knew. He covered his face at the horrific sight, unable to process what had just happened. The world seemed to swim as he felt himself sink deeper until he reemerged, and the creature now lied dead just a few dozen feet from the walls, the gaps of its scales riddled with ballista bolts and tiny arrows. The wood and metal had started to rot and rust, but with the creature dead, that process had subtly halted, though the effects of its odd power did not disappear.
The young guard looked in horror as the guardians moved toward the corpse like it was an everyday occurrence and started prodding it for something. Once more, the boy was taken out of his reverie by a heavy pat on the back.
“Good job, boy,” the sergeant said. “Most people, even veteran guards, would have run away at the sight of a shell eater, but you stood firm. I was harsh on you for a reason, and you’re still alive now. Foolish as you are, that deserves a commendation. I’ll inform the captains and see what you’ll get for your bravery,” the man continued. “Keep the people back!” he yelled at a guard in the streets. “Don’t let them see it! The guardians said they would take care of it!”
Filled with an incomprehensible storm of emotions, the young guard slowly approached the outcrop the dragoness always sat on and dragged his gloved hand along its uneven surface. He looked into the distance where the sesyphur had perished and tightened his fists enough that they hurt him. The young man, now alone on his part of the wall, looked down at the guardians cheering when one of their own climbed out of the remains of the monster with something shining in their hand.
“Where do these monstrosities come from?” the boy asked.
The sergeant cleared his throat and spat on the ground. “Don’t know. I think ferals and rogues become those things. Supposedly they eat something, but I’m not sure.” He turned to his recruit. “Why?”
He watched his new soldier clench his fists hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “I’ll hunt every last one of them.” He dared to look at his sesyphur partner again, letting the image burn into his mind. “I’ll hunt them all.”
“Stop mumbling, Zevve!” a familiar voice complained as it kicked him.
“What?!” The tiny hatchling stumbled about, falling on his back in their makeshift cave of cloth. “Why kick me?”
“Mumbling in sleep,” his sister whined.
Zeyvec looked perplexed. “About what?”
“Not remember?” Estival asked. She watched her brother shrug. “Move a lot. Nightmare?”
Zeyvec shrugged again. “Don’t remember.” He yawned and place a forefoot against his chest, feeling his heart beating and a strange fury within him starting to flicker away. “Tired. Sleep.”
Tehrmol shifted in place, ignoring him. His siblings learned that he was a very deep sleeper when he felt safe. Their mother, however, had been taken out of her sleep and was staring into the emptiness with wide, bloodshot eyes.
