Animus

Chapter 2

Eld was glaring at her from across the table, his claws tapping at the wood impatiently. Her mother and her advisors had left, the battle planning done for the day. Yet Eld, with his fire-thoughts that burned and raged, had asked her to stay behind.

Sangria leaned back in her chair, her tail flicking. "What, exactly," she asked, smiling to herself, "Have you called me back here for?"

Eld snarled, his talons scraping the metal table. "You broke your promise." His voice was deathly quiet, but his thoughts weren't. The flames were painted in emotions that practically screamed at her. Fear, and that undying, unbreakable rage. I always knew you were a monster, his thoughts growled.

"Oh? I broke my promise, did I? And where did you hear that, General?"

"I know what you did. To Silverclaw, and Pathfinder." He grated out, eyes glowing with fury. "You know, when you were a hatchling, and you sat there with your siblings, drenched in the blood of Dawnwalker, I thought I should kill you. I thought that I should kill you that night, while you slept. I wish I had. The world would be a better place if I had." Talons, gouging into table, leaving ugly welts and smoke rising.

"You are too powerful, Sangria. Too. Powerful. You need to stop before this gets out of hand, I can't- I won't take anything happening to my tribe." Hurt Tanager and I'll find a way to kill you, that was the story his mind sung. "You need to stop."

Sangria curled her lips distastefully. "I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about, General. I have done nothing but good things for our tribe. I love the SkyWings, and I love my mother. The sheet audacity of suggesting anything to the contrary- frankly, general, I am shocked."

Eld let out a dismissive snort. I'll believe that when scavengers fly. Sangria's eyes burned and she looked at him, furious. "Shall I give you examples?" She picked up a stone from a faded brown pouch on her neck, brandishing it like a weapon. The smooth, silver stone was perfectly rounded, and gleamed like a dewdrop in the light of the morning sun. "This Stone will heal any wound it touches. Do you know how many lives this has saved? Or how about the SkyWing treasury- I've enchanted it to return if ever stolen. I have saved the lives of wounded SkyWings when there was no one to help and their lives were bleeding onto the ground. I have enchanted a necklace that goes black as night if the wearer is lying, to help root out injustice in my mother's courts. Which of these things paints me as the villain, the antagonist in this web of lies you are weaving? I have saved countless lives, general, and because of two deaths you're going to condemn me. You're going to send me to the slaughter as if all my good deeds mean nothing." Sangria barked a laugh. "What am I to you, General? A barrier in the way of my mother? Oh yes, your love for Tanager is painstakingly clear in your mind. It's almost sickening. Is that what I am? So you can be named king and have your glorious future, you're going to get rid of me and my siblings?"

Smoke was rising from the metal table, as slowly those talons sunk into it and it melted. Ever-so slowly. "You. Had. Pathfinder. Murder. His. Love." He spat or the words, teeth gritted and full of anger. Monster, Monster, Monster.

"You think I am evil, do you, General?" She narrowed her eyes at him, before moving swiftly on. "Yes, you do. I can read it in your mind. I ask you this, what is evil? What do you think, exactly, 'evil' is? Are all murderers and thieves evil? If we do bad things, does that make us evil? If a thief, who loves his family and will do anything to save them, kills an innocent man so his family can live, does that make the thief 'evil'? Dragons do bad things, and dragons do good things. We are all morally grey creatures, General. Evil and good do not exist in this world." It was true, her words. Sangria wasn't evil. She just loved killing, and wanted to enjoy herself. The SkyWing tribe would end up being glorious for it. They would be he mightiest, and Sangria the most beloved Queen of all. Sangria had done good things, and she had done awful things, in the minds of some dragons. But none of that really mattered, in the end.

Eld leaned back, looking at her. "No," he said, at last. "I don't think you're 'evil'. I think you're mad, that you're losing your soul. There was a tribe - or is a tribe, I suppose - deep in the deciduous forest near the RainWings, on the back foot of Pyrrhia. The Mad Tribe, they are called. LeafWings. They had your power, the power of the Animus, they called it. And they were awful. They would kidnap dragons from other tribes and slaughter them for fun. Control them like puppets - like you controlled Pathfinder - and torture them for their own amusement. They would build cities and palaces but they would crumble into the dust."

"The Mad Tribe hasn't been seen for hundreds of years, Eld. They are nothing but myth and legend, and those stories are highly exaggerated. There's doubt that they ever existed in the first place." Sangria waved a claw dismissively. "Besides, I am not losing my soul. What a ridiculous notion. My soul is perfectly fine, and I'm not going to start slaughtering or torturing dragons anytime soon. I only killed Dawn because I had to, I hadn't even meant to then, and Silverclaw deserved to die. She was collaborating with Pathfinder, I saw it in their minds. Everyone in this tribe, this kingdom, loves me, except you, General. I wonder why?"

Monster. His mind hurled that word at her repeatedly. It was an effort not to scoff. "How convenient, Princess, that the only one who can read minds round here is you."

Sangria snarled, low and angry. "Are you accusing me of lying, General?"

"I am saying that if you wore that necklace, it would go black and crumble to ashes with the weight of your lies."

Eld leaned back in his chair, looking at her. Smoke rose from that melting table again, and every moment was tense and pounding.

"Do you know what I think? I think you enchanted Pathfinder to kill Oathbreaker. I know you hated him, you detested your father. You could force Pathfinder to kill one dragon, why not another?"

"How dare you." Sangria growled, standing up. She had killed Oathbreaker, for he was a conniving liar full of hatred. He deserved to die. He was the monster, not her. The things she had seen in that mind... Sangria almost shivered. Almost. "I loved Oathbreaker. He was my father, and yet you accuse me of murdering him. You are a vile, despicable creature, Eld."

"You hate me for speaking the truth."

"Truth? Truth?! You've woven a tale of lies that is absolutely heart-wrenching and false. It is a mess of half-truths and assumptions with no proof. This is ridiculous. I can't deal with this any more. Goodbye, General."

She stormed out the door, but Eld's thoughts called her back. Turn around, Princess, the flames whispered, Turn around.

"And who, my dear princess," he asked, "can prove that you're lying?"

Sangria snarled, watching as the chair she had sat on burst into flame, and Eld's mind held a promise of violence and death. The flames will lap at your corpse next. Sangria hissed, and left, but those flames still burned in her mind.

The dancing hues of golds and orange, illuminated by pale yellows and blood reds. And there was Eld, staring through the flames. And those eyes whispered only one word; monster, monster, monster.

Sangria looked into her ornate mirror, examining her scales. Eld was talking to a soldier far below her room, the firescales dragon clearly discussing battle strategy or some other military nonsense. Sangria hissed. Before looking at herself once more.

I enchant my scales to be immune to fire; no matter how hot Eld's fire blazes, it will not burn me. No matter what blade tries to pierce my scales, they will not bleed, for i enchant them to be invulnerable, hard as diamond. I enchant any large object that dare falls on me to bounce off my scales harmlessly. I enchant myself to never age. Whatever happens to me, my soul will be tied to my body. I will never die.

Sangria smiled, and laughed, looking in the mirror once more. She may have been a monster, but she was Sangria, and she would never die.

Nothing could defeat her now.

1488 words, brought to you by the most amazing, Queen Deathcry

Edited by Lightseeker!