Startled, he began digging through the coins, half-expecting to find her fresh corpse beneath them. He was momentarily relieved to not find her at the bottom of the pile, until he remembered that he still did not know where she was.
Abandoning any pretense of calm, his search took on a more frenzied pace. He caught the remnants of her scent at the mouth of a passageway and quickly set out to follow it. He followed it all the way to the mountainside.
Perching on the bluff, he looked out over the land. His gaze immediately went to the crude pasture. He had made it from uprooted trees, which he’d placed around a field, which contained a small pond. It had taken him over an hour to make that pasture, all so that Madja’s smelly horses would not run off into the wilderness. It would not have surprised him to see that they’d escaped the pasture; after all, he was a dragon, not a carpenter. But he could see that one horse remained, while the other—Madja’s mare— was suspiciously absent.
In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, Sevrrn’s first thought was that she had been abducted. He was so prideful, that it took several moments for him to realize the obvious truth:
Madja had left him.
She hesitated , he thought. The day at the inn, when he had told her to choose, either immortality with him or a mortal life amongst her own kind, Madja had hesitated. It was no wonder that he had felt no victory in her defeat. A part of him must have known that she would change her mind.
Why?
Why was she not satisfied with his lair? Why was she not satisfied with their life together? Why was she not satisfied with him?
Because he did not love her?
Why did I not just say the words? he wondered. His initial response had been instinctive, but after he realized how much it meant to her, he could have corrected himself, could have lied for her benefit.
No, Sevrrn did not want to die for her, but the knowledge that she was gone, that she had left him, it made him feel…
Empty.
Hollow.
Dead.
----
T he night that Madja had been dragged from her home and put on a litter bound for Sevrrn’s lair, she had mostly just cried. The girl she had been had hoped that the soldiers would take pity on her, forsake their orders, and release her, as though she were some helpless maiden in a fairy tale.
Madja was no longer that girl, and this time, she was not simply fighting for her own life, but also the life of her child. She started with trying to reason with the guards that took her from her cell, telling them of the terrible mistake they were making. When that didn’t work, she threatened them, telling them that their city and their families would all die if they killed her. When that didn’t work, she kicked and scratched, clawed and cursed; trying to fight them off like a cornered beast.
In the end, they dragged her to her execution site. The nobility had managed to stop huddling in their houses to show up for the event, and she could hear the high priest proclaiming her to be the sacrifice necessary to summon their god.
The wave of people parted to let her captors pass. No one tried to help her, not that she thought they would. She could see the Prince, along with several members of the royal family, seated on a raised dais. She tried desperately to catch his gaze, but he kept his eyes averted.
Jerl stood in front of the freshly dug pit, looking smug. Next to him was the high priest, who had taken up a low chant meant to invoke the god. There had been a time when his chanting, when this entire grisly affair, may have seemed necessary to her. After all, what was one person’s death for the greater good?
But now she knew the truth. Perhaps there was some divine being listening to the prayers of man, but it was not Sevrrn. He was a dragon, a powerful and ethereal creature—but nothing more. He was not listening to their chants or their prayers, and her sacrifice would not summon him.
Though it would doom them.
Even as she was
Abandoning any pretense of calm, his search took on a more frenzied pace. He caught the remnants of her scent at the mouth of a passageway and quickly set out to follow it. He followed it all the way to the mountainside.
Perching on the bluff, he looked out over the land. His gaze immediately went to the crude pasture. He had made it from uprooted trees, which he’d placed around a field, which contained a small pond. It had taken him over an hour to make that pasture, all so that Madja’s smelly horses would not run off into the wilderness. It would not have surprised him to see that they’d escaped the pasture; after all, he was a dragon, not a carpenter. But he could see that one horse remained, while the other—Madja’s mare— was suspiciously absent.
In spite of all the evidence to the contrary, Sevrrn’s first thought was that she had been abducted. He was so prideful, that it took several moments for him to realize the obvious truth:
Madja had left him.
She hesitated , he thought. The day at the inn, when he had told her to choose, either immortality with him or a mortal life amongst her own kind, Madja had hesitated. It was no wonder that he had felt no victory in her defeat. A part of him must have known that she would change her mind.
Why?
Why was she not satisfied with his lair? Why was she not satisfied with their life together? Why was she not satisfied with him?
Because he did not love her?
Why did I not just say the words? he wondered. His initial response had been instinctive, but after he realized how much it meant to her, he could have corrected himself, could have lied for her benefit.
No, Sevrrn did not want to die for her, but the knowledge that she was gone, that she had left him, it made him feel…
Empty.
Hollow.
Dead.
----
T he night that Madja had been dragged from her home and put on a litter bound for Sevrrn’s lair, she had mostly just cried. The girl she had been had hoped that the soldiers would take pity on her, forsake their orders, and release her, as though she were some helpless maiden in a fairy tale.
Madja was no longer that girl, and this time, she was not simply fighting for her own life, but also the life of her child. She started with trying to reason with the guards that took her from her cell, telling them of the terrible mistake they were making. When that didn’t work, she threatened them, telling them that their city and their families would all die if they killed her. When that didn’t work, she kicked and scratched, clawed and cursed; trying to fight them off like a cornered beast.
In the end, they dragged her to her execution site. The nobility had managed to stop huddling in their houses to show up for the event, and she could hear the high priest proclaiming her to be the sacrifice necessary to summon their god.
The wave of people parted to let her captors pass. No one tried to help her, not that she thought they would. She could see the Prince, along with several members of the royal family, seated on a raised dais. She tried desperately to catch his gaze, but he kept his eyes averted.
Jerl stood in front of the freshly dug pit, looking smug. Next to him was the high priest, who had taken up a low chant meant to invoke the god. There had been a time when his chanting, when this entire grisly affair, may have seemed necessary to her. After all, what was one person’s death for the greater good?
But now she knew the truth. Perhaps there was some divine being listening to the prayers of man, but it was not Sevrrn. He was a dragon, a powerful and ethereal creature—but nothing more. He was not listening to their chants or their prayers, and her sacrifice would not summon him.
Though it would doom them.
Even as she was
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