The Lead Crown: Ch 3a, "By the Spirits" (Pt 5)
Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 3-5, By The Spirits
Although Theo agreed with him, Kesst's vocal objection to becoming involved with any affairs of the Church went essentially unheard. Between Roaring-Flood's cries for war and Enarork's staunch determination to aid the Yew Tribe the dragon may as well have not spoken up at all. He could tell Tobias was torn between options; the prong horn was no warrior but with so much at stake he seemed hesitant to avoid helping in some way. Even though Sanmer originally sided with Kesst, Nicholas' constant argument of how the big guys were always pushing the little guys around ultimately changed the fox's mind.
Kesst was not happy about following the group through the darkness of the night toward what would only end up as a horrible altercation. He knew enough about the Church to know that they got what they wanted, and if they were set on eradicating the Yew Tribe for who-knew-why, then no amount of show of force would convince them otherwise. He trudged near the back of the group, behind the party and the dozen-or-so bear warriors that had accompanied them. He contemplated several times the possibility of safely sneaking off while nobody was paying attention; he'd spent his life running from the Church... no sense in going straight to them.
The dragon paused at the *clink* of a coin being flicked by a thumb into the air, and he reached out to snatch it as it fell in front of him. Sanmer slowed his pace, taking up a spot to Kesst's right. The dragon glanced at the fox, "What's this for?"
Sanmer smirked, "It's a copper mark..."
The traveler signed, "I know what it IS... I want to know what--"
"I'm buying an end to your silence." The fox continued walking beside him, waiting several steps before continuing, "Your mood's more obvious than a storm cloud on the horizon and I wanna hear what's up in that head of yours."
Kesst sighed, "Nothing to say... you know why I don't want to go."
Sanmer nodded thoughtfully, rubbing the fur at the end of his chin as he considered the words, "Yea... I guess not..."
Out of the entire party, only the fox would be able to understand the real reason why Kesst was so interested in avoiding the church, "You GUESS?"
The rogue shrugged, "Yea... I mean... sure. Nobody here really wants anything to do with violence. Tobias is a scholar and probably can't even hold a sword, so he has a reason to not wanna go... Theo... probably even less of a good warrior than Toby. Nick? Well... he's a sailor, so he probably knows a thing or two about brawls, but I wouldn't really call him a soldier. Other than the bears here, I don't think any of us are exactly right for war."
Kesst shot the fox an accusing gaze, "What about you? I've seen you handle a blade... you're no stranger to weapons."
Sanmer smirked, a dagger coming to his paw right away. The handle spun around in his grasp as the weapon moved in almost hypnotic directions in a dizzying display of dexterity before disappearing back from where it had come, "I know my way around knives, yea... but there's a big difference between hiding in the shadows and standing in front of any army..."
The dragon shook his head, "All the more reason we SHOULDN'T be doing this."
The fox flicked an ear, the corner of his muzzle tugging up into a smirk, "That's funny, y'know... considering everything you've been through and everything you've had to do I wouldn't've figured you for a coward, Kesst."
A number of objections came immediately to his mind but, in the end, Kesst realized that Sanmer was just trying to rile him up, "Choosing not to throw my life away isn't cowardice... it's common sense... it's survival."
The rogue nodded, the smile disappearing, "So... after everything the Church's put you through, you figure it's best to run and hide from it."
Kesst pulled his hood up into place atop his head, "It's the smartest thing to do."
Sanmer kept pace with him, but looked forward along the path toward the rest of the group and the bears escorting them, "So... you'll just let em push you around and keep you running your whole life?"
The dragon looked at the ground in front of himself, watching each step purposefully, "I'll live longer that way."
The fox blurted out a humorless 'ha', followed by a very direct and bland, "Well, I guess that's good for you... but not so good for the people who don't run."
Kesst grit his teeth, realizing where Sanmer's train of thought was leading, "I can't be responsible for the people that choose the wrong action."
He heard the rogue nod beside him, "True... true... but I can't help but think how much better chance everyone'd have if everyone who was running would stop and maybe consider helping everyone else who was willing to stand up and fight."
The dragon came to a stop, opened his muzzle to object, then turned to face the smug rogue... only to discover that Sanmer had already left his side, and was nowhere to be seen. Scowling deeper, Kesst readjusted his hood, huffed, and continued along the road. He realized then that, being at the very back of the group, he would easily be able to disappear into the forest and be on his way without anyone realizing he was gone. It crossed his mind... more than once, in fact, but he continued on after the group, cursing himself for his stupidity with each and every breath.
* * * * * *
The sun had already left the horizon by the time the party neared what their ursine guides identified as the hunting grounds of the Yew Tribe. How they knew, Kesst was unable to tell, but they were very certain of it. Only a few minutes later the entire party froze at the sound of a very distinct brass horn. The horn was met in kind by a much more earthen, organic sounding one. Kesst realized that the first sounding was a Battle Trumpet, but it was Tobias who identified the second one, "A Tribal War Horn."
Professor Blackburn, dressed almost entirely in the same clothing as the Valley Tribe's warriors, shouted to the bears in the tribal tongue, and they added quickly for the group's benefit, "It is an attack! Come!"
The Shaman, Roaring-Flood, and Enarork charged forward along with the warriors of the Valley Tribe. Behind them, only a few steps went Tobias and Nicholas with Theo in hot pursuit. The sailor, at the head of the three, quickly spoke, "Everyone stay close to me... as long as we stay together we'll be fine!"
Kesst slowed to a stop as the rest of the battle group rushed forward. The dragon took a deep breath, steadying himself despite the much faster beating in his chest. He stood on a precipice... he had a decision to make and it couldn't be put off any longer. There was no sense of foreboding or trepidation... just the realization that he had a quandary that could not be answered by anyone else. He was almost thankful to hear the sound of Sanmer emerge from the undergrowth beside him, "Well... you're still here... you didn't disappear back on the trail, and you didn't disappear just now."
The dragon shrugged, "Not yet..."
Sanmer raised an eyebrow, "Still might?"
Kesst shrugged again, "Not sure..."
The rogue nodded, leaning back against a tree, "Theo's probably going to stay in the back and do what he can for the injured... I heard him talking to Tobias about trying to talk the Church down..."
The dragon sighed, "That's not going to do any good."
The fox's laugh was without humor, "Yea... I think you're probably right."
Sanmer's casual stance and relaxed demeanor gave Kesst a moment's pause, and he followed up on that confusion with a question, "You came all this way... are YOU going to help?"
The rogue smirked at the question and used Kesst's own words against him, "...not sure." The dragon had a follow-up question ready, but he never got a chance to use it; moments later a huge blast of flame from somewhere up ahead put an end to their conversation.
Kesst glanced quickly in the direction as a large column of fire rose up beyond the trees; when he looked back toward the rogue he wasn't entirely surprised to see that Sanmer was gone... again. Cursing himself, the dragon moved to the shadowy cover of the thicker areas of canopy and snuck closer to the sounds of battle, staying out of the early morning sun as best he could in the hopes he would not be seen.
It was several minutes before the village came into view; it was little more than a collection of wood and mud huts arranged together on roughly even land. There were no walls... no defenses or fortifications... no place for the women and children to hide. The dragon stood stunned, in shock, as a mounted warrior wearing the holy symbol on his tabard took advantage of that last fact and ran a tribal woman through with his lance as her two children were trampled beneath the hooves of his charger. If that were the worst of the atrocities Kesst would have been valid in his hatred for the Church... but it didn't stop there.
Several Inquisitors circled in the air. As they swooped down each lined up their dive, flecks and droplets of flame leaking through their teeth seconds before they opened their maws, fire bathing entire structures. None of the buildings held any strategic advantage and it was readily apparent that none of them housed warriors... but the attackers were not interested in defeating the tribe-- they were blatantly intent on destroying every trace of the deer.
Kesst, frozen in abject horror, watched as one of the Inquisitors swung around through the air in a wide turn and quickly lined himself up to dive down at a small group of fleeing children. Despite being too far away, the young Dragon couldn't stop himself, and he immediately took off into the burning village, crying out a warning. The children continued running, and the Inquisitor opened his maw-- but was forced to bank right to avoid a bolo.
Kesst traced the trajectory back to wolf, who was already picking up another. A young feline woman dressed in what looked like a foreign version of holy garb stood beside the wolf, bloody halberd at the ready as she fended off three Church footmen, keeping them at bay as he prepared another throw. To the side of the two, a small group of Yew Tribe warriors with what looked like two monks fighting alongside them also kept up the pressure on the Church's soldiers. There was more to it than met the eye, the dragon realized, but he didn't have time to consider it as another Inquisitor swooped in.
The black-cloaked dragon opened his muzzle, ready with a wave of flame... but he fell from the sky in a smoldering gout of smoke and fire. Kesst's muzzle snapped shut the moment he realized what he'd done, the tail end of his Breath licking his teeth. Numerous eyes, both tribal and Church went immediately to the young dragon, and, with resignation, he slowly let out the rest of his breath, this time without flame. Several of the airborne Inquisitors lined up on him, their maws already burning in anticipation of ending the 'abomination'.
Kesst closed his eyes, "And that's it."
The flames engulfed him completely, and he felt them incinerate every last lick of clothing on him. The Wing Catch provided to him by the Shaman was gone a half-second later as the fires obliterated everything, so hot that the young dragon couldn't even register the pain of being burned to nothing. As the combined Breaths finally ceased, Kesst opened his eyes. Surrounded by smoke, ash, and glassed earth, he was completely unharmed. Not the only one to notice his pristine condition, numerous Inquisitors pointed, roaring out, "ABOMINATION! DEMON! HERETIC!"
Kneeling down, Kesst spread his wings, and roared back-- what his scream lacked in words it more than made up for in all of the emotions tied up in years of endless pursuit, unjust prosecution, and the complete, unadulterated rage of being victimized... a casualty of the very people who had set their sights on the innocents of the village. Although Kesst had not meant to, his roar was joined by a flame the likes of which he didn't know he could muster, and the sky was alight as if it were noon.
The fighting all but halted at that, but Kesst was beyond noticing by that point. His wings spread, and then beat down against the ground, cupping huge amounts of air and propelling him skyward. Although nearly every last Inquisitor had long-since fled the immediate area of Kesst's wrath, one remained... and that one had his attention thanks to the small, struggling form he held. Noticing Kesst, the Inquisitor turned, and blurted out a gout of fire.
The young dragon closed his inner eyelids, not even otherwise blinking as he passed through the flames completely unharmed... but what the Inquisitor did next surprised Kesst completely; the other dragon threw the young deer right at him. Turning and swerving, Kesst grabbed hold of the youngster, wrapping his body around the flailing boy as he spread his wings out to fight against the backward momentum caused by the impact.
Having had very little practice flying, the dragon relied on his body to react in the air, but it had no frame of reference for the sudden predicament... and he spiraled out of control, the ground rushing up to meet him. Kesst grabbed the boy tighter, "HOLD ON!" he shouted, closing his eyes as he used one last flick of a wing and his tail to roll over so he would hit first, hoping that God would be on his side for once and the boy would be okay... and then he met the earth, and the result was bone jarring.
Several minutes passed before the young dragon regained his senses. He gazed skyward, feeling pain all over. He blinked once, then twice, and slowly opened and closed both of his talons. He let out a groan, having trouble sitting up from the indent he created in the soft earth. A forceful pull at his chest caused him to hesitate, and he slowly rose his head, staring wide eyed and aghast at the enormous tree root emerging from his chest.
Kesst had never seen someone impaled before, and had never expected for the first experience of it to be himself. He honestly expected there to be more blood, and that's when horror gripped the young dragon... not because of the fact that wood thrust itself into his back and out of his chest, but because there was NO blood... no torn flesh... no broken bones. Kesst stared in shock at the cracked and broken red porcelain of his chest, the perfectly rendered scales chipped and shattered.
Small, artfully crafted gears clicked and whirred in the empty space beneath the crafted exterior where flesh should rightfully have been. Some moved faster than others when he reached up to touch the root with his left arm. The dragon, still dumbfounded, opened his muzzle to speak... to scream.... to cry... but, just then, the gears stopped turning.