Wyvern

I feel the cool sand on my back, clinging to my dress. I feel the ground shake a little beneath me. When I rise I don’t see red. I see green. The green of nature these people where so quick to wipe out for there own petty gain. 

“That dragon is apart of the ecosystem. We are the intruders here. Killing would be poaching. Leave.” I grow out the last word. My teeth sharpen. Fangs on top, and two smaller on the bottom. 

“What are you?” This is the first time I’ve ever seen Kore fazed. I don’t answer. ‘We are rarely what we seem.’ The river rushes faster, and faster. Then it quickly changes his direction a wave of it rushing forward, parting for me, and knocking Kore off balance. I hear a male scream cut off abruptly, but barely register it. When Kore straightens the water around her I’d boiling. She tries to hit me. Strike, strike, strike. She misses every one. Even with the water at our ankles I’m still light and graceful on my feet as a half-fae. My mother taught me to dodge, and compared to her Kore is not much of an opponent. She managers to just make contact with her fist. That’s all she needs to make me cry out. Her skin is hot to the touch. I can see why she choose to become a soldier. Then she surprises me by taking her weapon and aiming not at me but the branches. I hear a surprised or pained sound from ether my Merlin or the dragon. Patches of ice form with cold fury. 

“No!” I say in Fae. Roots sprout from the ground large, and strong. They rap around her. Vines weave though the branches like snacks. Coming down to do my bidding. I can sense the fire with in her, as she try’s to make herself burn hotter. But her magic is weak compared to mine. For every root she burns, another breaks her bones. She cries out. I walk out to her as the water quickly washes away put foot prints, and the body. A thick layer of frost still turning the green grass white.

“My mother was an adventurer. She was a hero to some, and a villain to many. What I didn’t tell you was my mother no common criminal, no petty thief. She was an assassin. The assassin. The greatest in the world. Who became a hero.” I can see both the recognition of the story and skepticism in her eyes. “You don’t need to believe me.” I say. I ask the roots to squeeze tighter. “It wouldn’t change anything.”