by Gold Baron
"Aaron, wait up! Where are you going?" Her voice was sweet and musical. It was spring, the meadows were in bloom, and the dandelion fluff filled the air on the wind, a sweet breeze from the south. All the world, for a moment, seemed to forget its woes.
Sure, it had been several years since her village was destroyed, and the dragon attacks had increased greatly since the old Republic toppled, but none of that seemed to matter. The child ran over a final roll in the fields. "Aaron, wait!"
She stumbled over the final hill, the smell of salt filling her delicate little nose. The waves crashed against the white sandy beach, and pieces of beach wood scattered here and there, or perhaps they were pieces of ships washed up from the ocean's bottom after the war; she couldn't tell. The sea air washed her beautiful blonde hair about her face. "Aaron, where are you? You're in trouble now!"
The sand was warm; even as white clouds passed in front of the sun, it felt good around her toes. She had long since discarded her shoes somewhere near the picnic cloth.
She heard a giggle farther down the beach, and turned her attention to see him waving back at her, his voice quaint over the waves. "Come on! Hurry up, Becka!" She hated when he called her that.
Her pretty smile quickly turned to horror, and her features contorted, when she saw what the boy wanted her to see, and she ran across the sand like Hermes, leaving hardly a print but a spray of sand behind her.
Aaron grinned boyishly and reached out to touch the cold scales when his big "sister" snatched him up in her arms and ran across the sand as quick as a crow flies. In truth, the massive wyrm was quite dead, its wicked maw propped open in the final throws of death. It was coiled and half-buried in the sand, the waves lapping at its side, the tides threatening to take it back into its murky depths.
Beneath its great hulk and its spiny wings, half-buried in the sand, was a wound that tore from its belly to its throat. Its rib cage was split open, and its organs were laid bare, the heart missing. The small green had certainly met an untimely end.
And all the while, the cloaked figure stood atop the bluff that marked the end of the hidden cove, watching the fair figure dash across the open sands and over the fields and meadows. "Run, oh beauteous creature, and fear not, for I will protect you and deliver you from harm."
The man took off his heavy gauntlet and turned the small stone over in his hand. It glowed and pulsed and was warm; the heart of a dragon never sleeps. He placed it within the long wallet at his side, its depths immeasurable and its treasures countless, and pulled the drawstring tight, turning and walking down the back side of the bluff, hunting for more dragons.
"What were you and Aaron even doing out there?! You could've been killed! Didn't you listen to the warden?" The mayor's face was wrinkled and leathery, his hair dark and flecked with silver. Wisdom glowed in his eyes, though at that moment Rebecca was sure it was anger. "You might not think I'm your father, but I took you in and protected you. You know I care about you, as if you were my own children. Now tell me, how did you get past the warden?"
The woman shrugged sheepishly, her wonderful blue orbs cast at the floor in shame. Aaron had long since gone to bed. For once she envied being able to go to bed early.
"Actually," the warden piped up from across the assembly room, "I'm at fault. I saw no harm in letting the children go for a stroll. It's spring; the meadows are in bloom. You have to let them be kids!"
"You well know the state of things outside the walls. It's dangerous, spring or no. And with that.... madman roaming the countryside, God only knows what for, picking daisies for all I care, but attracting dragons just the same. He's a threat and needs to be dealt with."
The warden tried to give some defense. He deeply felt for the young children; he had helped raise them just as everyone else in the village had helped. "But we haven't had news from the capital since the first snows fell. For all we know, the roads could be closed and the messengers unable to travel, or worse. We might be alone, for all we know, and this stranger might just be our only hope."
The mayor grumbled under his breath, "Bah!"
Rebecca was immersed deep in thought. It was like a fairy tale, fuzzy and warm and happy.
He came to her as she scrambled to pick up the picnic and stuff it back into the basket. His armor glinted in the warm sunlight, glowing like a mirror and reflecting back all the world. He stood tall and walked proudly, a great red cape writhing and floating about, dragging at his feet it seemed, but never touching the ground. His features were cast in shadow, though, and it sent a chill down her spine. She dropped the basket and pulled Aaron close against her, and he paused.
A voice had echoed out from the darkness of the tall collar of the cape, folded up and around, so that only bits of dark brown hair seemed to show at the top. It was strong and powerful, and restored confidence in her; she felt moved, almost -- in love? "I had to see you again."
She nearly swooned, his voice more sweet than all the choirs in the cathedral, full of youth and exuberance, yet filled with pain and doubt. "Who are ye, knight of justice?"
He moved close to her then, and Aaron backed away and tripped over the basket, his eyes wide with awe. They stood toe to toe, he looking into her blue eyes, and she into darkness. He pulled off a gauntlet and lifted his hand to caress her white face. She tried then to reach out to his, into that darkness. What secret could be so horrible that he would hide himself so?
She was startled and frightened then as his hand flashed across faster than her eyes could follow and held her hand firm, just close enough to feel the warmth of his face, but not close enough to touch, and withdrew it. His hand was strong and hurt her wrist, but his grip quickly slackened, and he bowed a bit.
"You'll have to pardon my rudeness, but no one must see what I endure." He turned and walked away then, leaving her dazed and confused on the open meadow, where the dandelion fluff blew.
"Rebecca! Damn it, Rebecca, why won't you answer me!"
She turned her attention outward again and to her glowering father and the rest of the assembly from the village. "You saw him, didn't you? Didn't you?!" He rushed forward and grabbed her arms and shook her violently.
"No, stop! He saved us, Aaron and I. He's good -- he hunts dragons, like the knights of old!" The father threw her to the floor and stormed out of the room and out into the night.
The warden stepped forward and bent awkwardly in his mail, offering a hand to the fallen lady, to which she graciously declined, and helped herself to her feet. "He loves you, don't doubt it, but he's afraid... for you and Aaron, for all of us."
A murmur passed through the assembly, and they dispersed into the cool night air.