The Last Dragon of the East

Chapter 6

6

S oldiers prepare themselves, gathering their armaments before falling in line. It’s a long procession of infantry, followed by officers of higher rank on horseback. Supply wagons make up the tail end, largely unguarded. The captain drags me toward the middle of the army masses. He takes up the spot behind me, no doubt to dissuade me from thoughts of escape.

“Move out!” a commander somewhere in the rear ranks shouts.

I remain frozen where I stand, my legs heavier than lead. My throat is tight, my palms are clammy, and my guts twist with such ferocity that I worry I might get sick again all over my boots. There’s no solace to be found in the fact that many of my neighboring soldiers already have. But then I think of my mother, waiting for me at home alone. If I’m to return to her, fear cannot overtake me—though it’s certainly trying its best.

The front of the line marches forward first, and then the row after that, and so on. When it’s finally our turn to move, Captain Tian gives me a hard push. I have no choice but to allow myself to be carried away by the tide of the army.

The mouth of the mountain pass is wider than its middle. The soldiers are quickly forced to break formation, the front line rearranging itself so that only four soldiers stand shoulder to shoulder. There’s no room to turn, only to trudge on.

On either side of us, the jagged mountain walls scale high into the sky like silent sentries, blocking out any trace of sunlight and warmth. The sound of thousands of footsteps rattles against the stone, somehow both thunderous and distant. The air is still with the threat of death, heavy and cold upon our skin. Nobody dares speak.

The tension only grows as the hours drag by and we draw closer and closer to the end of the pass, the soldiers up front bracing for the ensuing onslaught. The pace of our march quickens, anxious battle cries suddenly erupting into the air. The exit is in clear view now, the sunlight a blinding beacon after so long spent engulfed in the mountain’s shadow.

The march turns into a jog, the jog into a full-on sprint. I steel myself, my heart pounding louder than the war drums behind us. I’m buffeted on all sides by the storm of armored, angry men. There is no way for me to prepare for what might come next. I step out and—

My gray thread tugs to the left.

Never—and I mean never —before have I sensed my Fated One on the other end of the line.

But there’s no time to marvel at it. Right now, I must survive.

My nose is bombarded by the bitter, stomach-churning scent of blood. I’m blinded by the sun, my eyes struggling to adjust in the sudden brightness. Desperate pleas of surrender and violent roars leave my ears ringing. The disorienting chaos of war encircles me while confusion swirls in my chest. It’s mayhem, brutal and unforgiving.

We’re a ferocious ocean wave crashing against a steadfast rocky shore. And it’s upon this shore that we disperse, the soldiers ahead of me scattering as they’re forced into battle by the surge at their backs. The clang of sword and armor rattles my eardrums. The sight of fallen bodies at my feet leaves me numb. Before I have the chance to catch my breath or gather my wits, I’m the next to find himself at the front of the line.

A soldier barrels toward me. I don’t see his face so much as the color he wears. The pale blue of his armor clashes with my red. He charges forth with a murderous battle cry, spit spraying from his mouth as he raises his sword above his head.

I stumble back.

He swings.

The tip of his blade whispers past my eye, too close. Much too close.

I draw my sword in a hurry, my hands shaking so hard that I nearly drop the blasted thing. I parry the soldier’s next blow—purely by chance—the force of metal clanging against metal sending vibrations through my bones.

“Stop!” I shout, tripping over my own feet as I scramble away, only to fall again over a small pile of bodies. “Please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

He charges again, my plea for mercy ignored. There’s no escape. Is this it for me?

The captain rushes forth, his sword slicing through the air with such tremendous speed that my eyes register only a blur. Blood spills forth, a red-hot spray splattering across my face and staining my armor. I gasp around the mouthful that washes over my tongue. The soldier’s head lobs to the side. The cut isn’t clean. I gag at the sight of ripped flesh, fatty tissue, exposed muscle, and the gritty bone of his severed spine sticking out from between his shoulders.

“Get up, you fool!” Captain Tian snarls at me.

I’m too scared to move.

“Have you lost your mind?” he hisses, stomping over to grasp me by the arm.

“This is madness!” I scream back. “I can’t do this!”

“Fight or die, you coward!”

An arrow screams past my ear. It meets its mark, the tip so sharp and heavy that it pierces straight through the center of the captain’s breastplate with a wet thud. He falls to the side, not quite dead, though certainly paralyzed from the shock.

The wall of Northern soldiers behind him doesn’t stop, continuing forward as they charge their enemies with swords and spears raised. They shove their way past me, climbing over the captain without hesitation or regard for their fallen comrade. I’m close enough to hear his bones crack and crunch as he gurgles on the blood spilling from his mouth.

For the briefest moment, I contemplate running.

I could return home, away from this needless bloodshed and savagery. My mother needs me. I don’t belong here, nor do I wish to be burdened with this search. My heart holds no love for the man now dying before me, and yet…

I drag him out of the way, grasping him under the arms to pull him off to the side. I lose my footing more than once, the soles of my boots slipping against the soil now muddy with blood. The smell is sickening.

“You f-fool,” Captain Tian sputters. Every breath he takes is an arduous wheeze. “Leave me to die.”

“Lie still,” I snap. “Medic! I need a medic!”

The world spins. I can’t begin to count the number of bodies. Our casualties are heavy, but our enemy’s are heavier still. While we are at least clad in armor of questionable make, they appear to be nothing more than local farmers and last-minute conscripts. We outnumber them twenty to one. They’re simply no match for the Imperial Army. But it’s the cruelty of the emperor’s soldiers that turns my blood cold.

Even when our Southern brothers raise their white flag, the fight carries on. Heads leave shoulders. Loose arms and legs scatter about, their owners lost somewhere in the clash. Young and old are stabbed through without remorse. Some beg for mercy, while others are resigned to their gruesome end.

All around me, red threads turn black and then disintegrate entirely. I swear in that moment I can hear thousands of souls cry out at once, all of them heartbroken. Fathers, brothers, sons, and lovers killed in the blink of an eye—never to return home.

I’m yanked from my sullen thoughts when the captain grips me by the collar. With shaking hands, he rips a scroll from the sash around his waist and shoves it to my chest.

“Your ordinance,” he rasps. “See your mission through.”

“Save your breath. I’ll find you a doctor.”

“Move, soldier!” he bellows.

“I can’t leave you here like this.”

An unexpected wave of calm washes over his features. He stares blankly up at the sky, his face bruised and swollen. “His Imperial Highness… promised me.”

I lean down closer to hear. It’s a miracle the captain has held out this long. “Promised you? Promised you what?”

“My family… will be looked after. I was to see you safely… across the border.”

“Hang on,” I tell him. “Just hang on. Those dragon scales… I can find you some. They can heal, and—”

Captain Tian’s eyes may remain open, but they are dark, empty wells. His eerie stillness is my second clue, the transformation of his red thread to black and then to nothing, my third and final one.

I rise slowly, the emperor’s ordinance in hand. My clothes are filthy, caked in dirt and drying blood. The soldiers finish off the last of the Southern Kingdom’s army, too busy looting supplies and piling up bodies to burn in a single heap to pay me any mind.

One step after the next, I will myself forward. I clumsily approach a nearby warhorse. It’s one of ours, a dark brown mare draped in the Imperial Family’s colors, though her rider is nowhere in sight. Most likely dead.

I pat her neck gently, struggling to clear the murky haze clouding my mind. I must venture farther south to find out if this dragon really exists. Perhaps not to a city, but a smaller village that I can pass through discreetly. There’s no doubt that news of the Imperial Army’s advance will reach the major trading hubs faster than the towns far from the main roads. After witnessing the devastation firsthand, I shudder at the thought of the terrors my brethren will carry out in the emperor’s name.

I mount the horse swiftly, grabbing her reins and digging my heels against her sides. I need to get ahead of the soldiers before they raze everything nearby to the ground. I can’t gather information if there’s no one alive to provide it.

“Hey!” someone shouts at me. The tall red feathers atop his helmet tell me that he’s one of the higher-ranking officers. “Where do you think you’re going? Our orders are to kill the survivors.”

I look down at him in horror. “I’ll have no hand in this madness.”

“Dismount at once or you’ll be tried for insubordination!”

“So be it,” I say bitterly.

“Deserter!” he cries, brandishing his sword. “We have a deserter!”

I snap the reins to break the horse into a mad gallop, leaving the carnage far behind.