Gift or Curse?

Chapter One

Three thousand years later....

Kite glided lazily over the coast, looking for some prey. A school of fish was rippling just under the surface, but she barely noticed. She didn't like the taste of fish, anyway. All slimy and weird and froglike.

A large seabird, probably an albatross, caught her eye as it flew out away from the shore. Kite glanced around, making sure there weren't any SeaWings who were hunting the same bird. Seeing no other dragon nearby, SkyWing or SeaWing, Kite dropped onto the bird from above. She snapped its neck, then landed at the mouth of a seaside cave to eat it.

Kite was lifting the bird to her mouth when she heard a sound. A noise like labored breathing came from deep inside the cave.

Kite sniffed the dank cave air, and her wings flared in alarm as she recognized the smell. Blood. Lots of blood.

Kite snatched up a chunk of driftwood and set it on fire. She held her improvised torch in front of her as she cautiously made her way to the back of the cave. She cried out in shock as she saw the source of the sound and smell. A dying dragon lay on the floor of the cave.

Kite dropped the torch as she rushed forward to press her talons over the huge gash in the dragon's side. Her mind spun desperately. Had a SeaWing attacked him? Why? Would it be possible to save him?

She knew the answer to the last question already. The dragon had lost too much blood.

"There's nothing you can do for me," the dragon croaked as Kite scooped some wind-blown leaves off the floor and began plastering them to the wound.

"I'm going to go get help," Kite said, not able to look the dragon in the eye. She knew it would be useless.

"No," the dragon seized her forearm in a surprisingly strong grip. "But there is something you must do. You know of the law that said the animus SkyWings were to be killed, upon knowledge of their powers."

It was not a question. Every SkyWing knew of the laws that had long ago condemned animus dragons and still condemned firescales dragons. Still, Kite nodded.

"The last animus, Eagle, knew that the tribe would be vulnerable without animus magic, should another tribe decide to invade. He devised a plan that would allow animus magic to return to the tribe when there came a queen who would accept it."

"Don't try to talk," Kite begged, but the dragon continued as though he had heard nothing.

"Eagle used his magic to remove the animus potential from his bloodline in order to keep them alive. He placed the magic into an object that was enchanted to return that power to his descendants when the time was right."

"What do you mean?" Kite asked.

"He enchanted this object to give animus powers to his descendant who wore it. He entrusted it to his friend, my ancestor, to be given back to his family when the time came that a queen would be willing to accept animus magic. I believe that Queen Amaranth is that dragon."

He raised his talons to his neck, gasping in pain from his wounds. His talons brushed a thin gold chain around his neck that was attached to a small amulet.

"Stop," Kite said in a voice that was half order, half plea. "You need to stay still."

The dragon lowered his talons. "Take it. Return it to Eagle's descendants. Queen Amaranth... She has reasons to oppose the laws condemning magic. Take it... But be careful. There are dragons... Who would not..."

He laid his head on the cave floor. His breath escaped him in a rasping sigh. His orange eyes closed, and Kite knew he was dead.

She slid her claws under the amulet's chain. A strange feeling went through her, making her feel slightly dizzy. She, and she alone, now had the ability to give or withhold magic from her tribe.

She didn't want this responsibility.

She wasn't sure she should have it.

But she was the only one who could make the choice.

Kite slid the chain free of the dead dragon's neck, and placed it around her own. It felt so much lighter than it should have been, for something so important. It was simply a round disc of gold with red glass embedded in the center, and yet it held magic with the ability to do almost anything.

But before Kite could decide anything, she had to deal with this dragon's body. With no small difficulty, she managed to carry the corpse from the cave to the top of the nearest mountain. She stared at the dead dragon for a long time. Dark red blood stained his orange scales, and a small trickle still oozed from a gash near his jaw.

Kite left the mountain peak and returned with a long sheet of cloth from a nearby village. She singed the feathers of a vulture circling above the dragon's body, sending it flapping away, before landing next to him once more. She wrapped the cloth gently around him, covering his still form to keep it safe from scavenging animals. Blood soaked through the cloth in places, and Kite added more layers of cloth on top until no trace of red could be seen.

Before she turned to leave, she scratched the date on a rock, so that the dragon's body wouldn't be burned before the seven days were up. There was the occasional SkyWing who didn't want to be given the seven days before being burned, having decided they wanted to come back as a dragon from another tribe. After some agonizing, Kite decided to make sure his spirit would come back as a SkyWing. She figured that if he was the kind of dragon who wanted a life in a different tribe, then at least he would be able to have another chance to get it the next time his spirit came back.

And, maybe when he did, the dream he wanted in this life would have been realized.