Rise Of Orthros

Chapter Four

The edges of twilight painted the sky with bruised hues as Aesthra, Ruvean, and Cyrelle approached the modest house of Mayor Blane. Shadows danced across the cobblestones, their footsteps echoing with uncertainty. Aesthra’s stomach twisted uneasily as she recalled the horror they had uncovered in the cave—hatchlings, still innocent, and the wrath of a mother dragon born from grief.

A breath mixed with soft whispers of wind. "Do you think he’ll tell us the truth?" Aesthra asked, scanning the dimly lit windows. "I doubt he has it in him."

Ruvean’s azure eyes narrowed slightly, tempered and steadfast. "We have to try. If he knows what they did—"

"—he won’t admit it willingly," Cyrelle completed, her voice laced with quiet determination. "Not without a good reason, anyway."

They stepped onto the porch, the creaking sound beneath their weight resonating with urgency. Ruvean raised his hand, hesitating a moment before knocking. The echo seemed to hang in the air, thick and charged.

“Enter!” came Blane’s voice from within, slick with feigned warmth.

Ruvean pushed the door open, and they strode inside. Aesthra's gaze quickly found the mayor, who reclined on a chair, a picture of misplaced comfort. The slyness of his grin made the hair on her arms rise.

“Ah, my brave dragon riders! Welcome back!” His tone was deceptively chipper, but Aesthra could sense the veiled arrogance behind it.

“We need to speak—” Ruvean began.

“In a moment, in a moment!” Blane waved his hand dismissively, a gesture more suited to swatting a fly than addressing the dignified leaders of the dragon guild. “Can’t you see I have a visitor?” He gestured towards an empty chair with cloying nonchalance.

Aesthra stepped forward, her heart pounding with suppressed fury. “We have important matters at hand regarding the attacks on your village.”

Blane leaned back as if their concern was merely an entertaining anecdote. “So dramatic. Yet I assure you, my people are resilient. A little dragon trouble never stopped us before.”

“Not trouble—it’s death,” Aesthra countered, her voice steely as she bent forward slightly. “We found dead dragons, Blane. Hatchlings! We need answers.”

He seemed to falter momentarily, the mirth slipping from his expression. “Ah, well, it’s all a misunderstanding—”

“I told you no lies,” Aesthra pressed, her emerald eyes glinting dangerously. “Did you send your villagers into that cave? Yes or no?”

Ruvean stepped in, steadying his voice. “What happened to the baby dragons? Did you hunt them?”

Blane’s jaw clenched as he avoided their gazes. The shadows deepened around him. “We had no choice! They were slaughtering our livestock day and night—”

“By killing them first?” Cyrelle interjected, anger flaring in her voice. “You could have come to us for help at any point.”

The mayor swallowed hard, a faint tremor lacing his facade of authority. “Well, it wasn’t just the livestock—they were threatening our lives, too! Desperate times call for desperate measures!”

Aesthra stepped closer, her hand instinctively hovering near the hilt of her sword, the metal a comforting weight at her side. “You didn’t have to make that choice. We could have relocated the mother and her children. You know that.”

Blane shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting about the room as if searching for an escape. “And let the village fall to dragons? Not a chance!”

With tightened fists, Aesthra’s voice rose, straining against the frustration bubbling within. "You’d rather have them all dead, would you?"

He mustered a hollow chuckle. “In the heat of anger, sometimes one doesn’t see clearly—”

“Don’t you dare dismiss their lives.” Ruvean’s patience waned, his tone shifting from cordial to command. “What happened that night?”

The tension thickened as everyone held their breaths. Eventually, Blane's shoulders slumped, the resigned act escaping him. “We went in to hunt the dragons. We were tired of losing livestock. After the tragedy, I... I thought it was for the best.”

“Best?” Aesthra cried incredulously. “You killed innocent hatchlings, a mere mark against your precious livestock? What sort of leader are you?”

His voice barely rose above a whisper, panic creeping into the tension-laden air. “The mother came out of nowhere. She killed a few good villagers that night. What did you expect us to do?”

Ruvean stepped back, allowing the full weight of his disappointment to settle in. “You could’ve come to us. You could have avoided all of this bloodshed.”

Blane glared back, desperation turning his face ghastly pale. “I had to protect my people.”

Aesthra's heart constricted as she saw the dude despair in Blane’s eyes. “But at what cost? You’ve forced a grieving mother to lash out—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Blane snapped, the give of guilt failing him. “Let them destroy us? This isn’t a simple fairy tale, Aesthra! I have a duty!”

She stepped forward, her breath catching. “And now you have a duty to those dragons you’ve wronged! Don’t you see? The cycle must end! You must come to a reckoning with this.”

The conflict rolled in slowly, the weight of the truth texting between them like a storm gathering at their door.

“I will not stand here and let you justify murder.” Aesthra shook her head, her voice a whisper on the tense air. “Once we leave, you will cease your hunting expeditions. You will leave those dragons alone.”

Blane opened his mouth, but Cyrelle chimed in, her voice unwavering, “It’s not just about you anymore. There are lives at stake, and you can not play god over them.”

Slinking forward slightly, Ruvean locked eyes with Blane, earnest and stern. “Consider this an ultimatum. If you do not heed our warning, you will answer to us when we return. There are dragons at stake. We’ll find them an island far away from this village—”

“—and you will protect them!” Aesthra finished fiercely, her heart racing as she realized the plea thrumming in her chest. “You may think you are keeping your people safe now, but your choices deepen the chaos that threatens us all.”

Blane's face paled; a storm of conflict banished any semblance of bravado. "I... I will think about it. I’ll speak with the villagers."

“No,” Aesthra said, voice firm, grounding her resolve. “You will act. They deserve to be free from the consequences of your ignorance. Leave those dragons alone … or suffer dire consequences.”

Their words hung thick in the air, charged, filled with an unyielding weight that left no room for rebuttals. Aesthra turned her back on Blane and walked toward the door, head held high as the sunset danced upon the horizon outside.

Ruvean joined her side, an unspoken gratitude passing between them. “We’ve done what we can,” he said softly.

“I still can’t believe they went so far,” she murmured, anger still burning inside her. “Is this what it means to be a leader?”

Cyrelle came up beside them, eyes earnest. “Not all people can bear the weight of the responsibility they take on their shoulders. We have dragons to protect now and a mission that drives us. We’ll ensure they find refuge.”

“Together,” Ruvean added, affirming with a determined nod. “Let’s head back. There’s much to prepare for.”