Sing Me Red Lullabies

The heart is getting cold.

Sweat drips down my neck, into the back of my shawl. I swallow the bile that climbs up my throat, forcing myself to remain calm because she is watching me. This time, I will not be able to leave until I finish my meal.

“What seems to be the matter, my love?” Mama’s smile appears sweet tonight. Sweeter than the red jakira flowers that grow in the summer, outside the cavern, where I am allowed to roam if I’ve been good.

Once, I picked a jakira, hoping to quench my hunger with some nectar. However, a mere touch caused me to fall over in pain. Blisters had formed all over my body and my breathing had become so laboured, I dared to believe the gods had heard my prayers after all.

That I was finally allowed to die.

I do not say anything as Mama watches me, the sickening smile still lingering on her face.

“I found that human just for you,” she says finally, breaking the silence. “The filth nearly broke one of my nails.” She reaches towards me and places a hand – perfectly elegant fingers and nails stained in the red of prey – on top of my trembling one. Her fingers are cold. Colder than the room I hide in when she goes through her moments, when she cries, screams, and rages at me, reminding me just how much she loathes my existence, the sight of me, my smell, my curse. You look just like him, she’d spit, her face contorted in fury. Just like the monster who broke my heart!

Despite all this, she is all I know and I love her. She is my carer, and best friend. My only salvation, and link to the cruel world outside the cave.

Without her, they would find me. One look at my two different eye colors - pale blue and violet - and they’d know exactly what I was. They would run away, damning me to the fiery pits. And if they did not hurt me first, The Musician would. He would come and finish a job that began thirteen winters ago.

Then, I would dance to the tune of Mama’s worst nightmare.

I look up at her, noticing a slight twitch on her face. “Eat,” she says softly. One word, a simple command that sends a shiver down my spine. I grab the heart. My fingers slip on the slimy, bloody organ once, twice. Mama’s grin widens when I bring the revolting human heart to my mouth. It brushes against my lips. Filth. I want to do nothing more than scratch at the surface it touched. Rip off my mouth. Jump into a boiling stream to cleanse my skin. Scratch and rub and scratch and –

“Eat your food!” Mama roars. A hot, fiery ball escapes her mouth, the blaze of heat catching me, and soaring past the stone-table. I do not even have the time to react as the fire disciplines me, peeling off my skin with anger. I fall to the ground and roll like I’d done thousands of times before. I do not know how much time passes as I burn, burn, burn.

Without screaming. Without dying.

A final hiss announces the last of Mama’s flames. No sound escapes my mouth when my flesh and skin begin to stretch and rebuild themselves. Before long, I go back to resembling a scrawny boy, dark hair matting over my forehead. My clothes disappeared alongside the flames. Mama will have to get me some new ones from another prey.

“I told you not to anger me.” She uncrosses her long legs from her seat and walks over to me. “Could you please be a good boy and eat? You are much too thin,” she says as she moves a strand of black hair behind my ear.

I nod because she has given me as many warnings as chances. It is my fault she got upset. I should be aware that even if she is stuck in humanskin, Mama’s abilities are not something to be underestimated.

Without another second, I reach for the burnt heart and bite. I try not to think about anything and focus on the one task that will keep Mama’s fury away. Chew. Swallow. Chew. Swallow. I choke a few times, but manage to keep it all inside this time. Perhaps, because it is burnt, and does not carry the foul taste of humans. When I finish, I glance up at the last, pure-blooded dragon of Akenta, and wait for her verdict.

“Excellent, sweetie.” Mama kisses my forehead. “Now, go back to your room.”

***

Bones. Carcass. Blood. Comfort. It is quite small. There is barely any space to run around, let alone stand. My room was fine when Mama found me as a toddler in the Red Forest, after the extinction of the dragons, ten winters ago.

Before it all, when I was a newborn, Mama tried to save the remaining dragons by ending my life. Hundreds and thousands of times. But with each beheading, drowning, burning, and drop from high levels, the dragon gods from the skies would not stop punishing her. They showed her what happened to those who went against the ancient laws. And so, one by one, the dragons of the Red Forest died from mysterious circumstances. Accidents, attacks, diseases. All of them were cursed because of my existence. All but Mama.

She’d abandoned me after a season, escaping from her mistakes to a faraway place. I was left alone in the forest, with nothing but the rotting bodies of my kin to keep me company. After some time, Mama returned.

At first, I didn’t recognize her because she was in humanskin. However, even as a youngling, I could recognize those violet eyes, the color of a dragon’s. Mama grabbed my hand and told me to come with her. She never explained why she took me back. She never even asked me how I’d survived for moons as a youngling. She simply glanced at the eaten bodies of her kin, strewn across the forest, and back at my full, blood-stained face. Then, she closed her eyes and gave me a smile. I liked to believe it meant that Mama returned because deep down, in her ice-cold heart, she loved me dearly.

I have grown a lot since that time. I’ve also added decor to the room Mama gave me in the cavern. Human remains lie on the ground, the stench a comfort and familiarity to my early days in the Red Forest. There is everything from flesh, to limbs, to shaved-off skin, but of course, there are no hearts. Mama made me eat all of them.

One by one, we will pick them apart, she would say, tear them away from their families and loved ones. The Musician and his sorcerers ruined everything when they wiped out my entire kin. They stripped me of my dragonskin, cursing me to resemble a human until I join the Great Ones Who Walk The Skies. Now, it is time for us to take their hearts - and magic - away.

“What made them do it, Mama?” I remember asking. “Why did the sorcerers fight the dragons?”

“Because humankind is evil!” she’d responded, her eyes widening in pure anger. “Greed makes them take and take and take, and whenever you think they are done, they go back and do it again. The sorcerers do not fear us. They just want to be as great as we once were. They use us. He did too…” She choked back a sob. “And broke my heart.”

I shake the memories out of my head and lower myself to my bed. To make myself more comfortable, I shuffle slightly, tiny pebbles digging into my naked body. I like the sensation. Compared to Mama, the pebbles feel like gentle jabs.

I turn to my side and stare at the decorations in my room. Beneiva is leaning against the far right corner, and Narkah is lying on the ground, right next to my head. Her skull is a comfort during the worst and coldest of nights. I pick her up and pull her close to my chest.

“Narkah.” My voice comes out in a rasp. I cough before addressing her again. “Mama got upset with me again. I defied her. I must do what I can to make her happy.” Narkah does not reply. She never does. With a wave of unexplainable fury, I slam her head against a wall. A crack forms down her skull.

“Sorry, Narkah! I didn’t mean to do that.” I kiss the top of her head the same way Mama does to me when I’m good. I hum softly and rock Narkah back and forth. I try to imagine Mama holding me in a similar way, singing me sweet lullabies.

As I hum softly, footsteps resonate in the cavern, and a deep growl fills the air. Mama has gone to her room, on the opposite side of mine. The only thing that separates us is a giant, thick wall of stone. Muffled cries come from the other side.

She’s doing it again. Begging the gods for forgiveness. She’s learned her lesson. Raised me as best as she could. But judging by the loud, sudden scream that echoes eerily down the cavern, I know what answers the dragon gods gave Mama again: silence.

***

Moons pass. Summer rolls around and on some rare occasions, I venture outside. I peer over the edge of the cliff, where our cavern stands. The field of jakira flowers is below. They are asleep in their buds, despite the warmer season. I wonder when the next rainfall is going to occur. The jakiras may have caused me a lot of pain when I’d come too close to them, but they have always been a source of beauty to me. A picture I could escape into whenever I felt sad or when I did not feel like talking to Narkah.

Mama’s moments have also drastically increased. One night, as we are strolling around the cavern, Mama begins to speak about the crystals dangling from the ceilings. They are purple and glow, illuminating the cave.

“I had a sister whose scales were a colour similar to that,” she says. “She was huge and terrifying and not only fed on human hearts to sustain her lifeforce, but she would raze villages for pleasure. All of the other dragons in the Red Forest were afraid of her. She certainly was a crazy beast!” She laughs and I do as well because when Mama is happy, I feel happy. But then Mama shoves me and I fall. She begins to yell at me, and cry, and then she clutches her hair and crumbles to the ground.

She rocks back and forth, her eyes wide, her fingers quivering. I crouch next to her and put a comforting hand on her back. “Don’t touch me!” she shouts. I recoil as Mama pulls at her hair, large clumps coming out of her scalp. “Your music did this to me!” Her eyes are red and bloodshot and fear presses against my chest at what I know will happen next. And it does.

Mama lashes out at me with fire. Once again, my vision blurs. Pain climbs all over my body. “You broke my heart!” I can barely make out her words over the roar of the flames. “It’s all your fault…Sacrifice…Loved...Lied to me…Cursed…”

When I come back to life, Mama is gone. I get up and assess my surroundings. The crystals that hung from the ceiling, the ones Mama loved so much, are gone. In their place is a gigantic hole. Cold wind rushes past me, goosebumps flaring across my arms. Without the crystals, the inside of the cave is quite dark. A tear rolls down my cheek at the idea of Mama losing a second home.

Her moments are getting out of control. I think back to another recent event, where she came back from a hunt with terrible wounds. When I rushed up to her, worry creasing my eyes, she let out a fierce snarl and blamed me for that wretched music. She slammed me against the cavern wall again and again, and then fell back on her knees and scratched off the skin on her arms, and face, repeatedly telling me to make it stop.

I thought I would be able to endure her fury and pain for a little longer, though it seems I must do what I can to stop her from suffering.

I look around me to make sure she is not nearby. Before I can change my mind, I let my humanskin fall. It lands around my feet in clumps and folds. My toes grow and stretch, claws extending. Black scales run down my arms and legs, and two enormous wings extend from my back. My face contorts itself and a quiver runs through my entire body as the final touches of dragonskin cover me fully. When the change is done, I fly out of the opening Mama created.

The sky is dark, devoid of any moon. I soar and flip across the air, glancing at the tiny stars, the ones referred to as The Great Ones Who Walk The Skies. I wonder if they’ll ever let me join them.

I fly until I recognize the gnarled trees and dragon bones racing past my vision. It has been a while since I visited the Red Forest.

I land near the borders of a village. Discarded toys, clothes, shoes, and other human materials fill the streets. Houses are bent in odd shapes, beaten by rain, wind, and former fires. Rust covers shattered windows and doors. I walk down the dark streets and pause in front of a door.

The Musician is tuning his instrument when I walk in. Papers, full of scribbles and maps, are scattered all over his room, some crumpled, some ripped. I am not surprised. He has been searching for a long time.

“You again.” His voice is gruff and his back is turned to me. “What do you want this time? Are you going to just stand there and watch me work or are you finally going to speak?”

“I know where she is.”

The Musician stops his activity and turns to look at me, appearing shocked that I had addressed him for the first time. His black hair has streaks of silver and his eyes, the same ice-blue as my right one, are heavy and dark with fatigue. “Where?” he asks, a tinge of hope in his voice. “Where is my beloved?”

I do not say anything for a long time, assessing the man who performed the tune of Mama’s downfall. She taught me to hate and curse at him. To cut off my ears and plunge my claws inside my head if he ever played a single string, or sang a pretty note. Though, instead of paying heed to Mama’s warnings, I smile at the sorcerer whose blood runs through my veins.

“She is located on the Northern side of Akenta, near the Ferncrow Woods,” I say, “On a cliff’s edge, atop a red flower field, a cavern sits. That is where Mama is hiding.”

***

It was the music that jolted me from my sleep. I look around, dazed. Narkah is lying a few feet away from me. The tune is carrying itself gently, a beautiful sound to my ears. Before I can react, Mama bursts into my room and slaps me across the face.

“Traitor!” Tears run down her cheeks. She is trembling. “You went to him, didn’t you? After everything I’ve done for you, all the sacrifices, you dare betray me?”

I do not respond. It seems to frustrate her because she goes back to slapping me again. Appearing to decide it is useless, Mama stops. “Come with me! We have to leave right now.” She grabs my hand and drags me out of the room. For a second, I want to say goodbye to Narkah, Beneiva, and the others, but then I realize that perhaps, I can make some new friends another time.

Mama and I run through twists and tunnels, passing by many more crystals that light our path. The melody grows louder, causing Mama to growl.

We escape from another opening and dash into the woods. The music has gotten much more distant. We stop in the middle of a clearing. Mama is panting. “We have to leave these woods,” she tells me. “Put on your dragonskin.”

I pretend to not know what she means. Mama senses my nonchalance. She grabs me by the shoulders and squeezes tight. Beads of blood drip down my arms.

“Listen to me, you little idiot,” she says through gritted teeth, “The Musician will be here any second. You need to fly us out of here. Right now.”

I give her a silence colder than those of the dragon gods, staring straight into her violet eyes. Unwavering. The Musician is the only one who can put her to a peaceful sleep.

By now, Mama is crying. “Please!” she begs. “Don’t let him charm me again! I do not want to fall for him and forget about the laws. I cannot turn against the gods once more.” Her face contorts and she shakes violently. I pity her failed attempts at cloaking her dragonskin.

A melody floats across the air, freezing Mama in her movements. She bites her lips and presses her hands against her ears. “No!” she lets out a long, mournful scream. “Shut up! Shut up!”

“There you are, my love.” The Musician appears from behind a tree, a smile brightening his face. “I have been looking all over for you.”

“Get away from me!” Mama backs away, knocking herself against a tree. “All you wanted to do was strip me of my proud lineage, like the horrible creature you are. I thought you loved me.”

The Musician struts his fingers down the chords of his instrument. “I had no choice. Your kin was stealing the village babies, killing our families and friends for food. Honestly, I did use my gift to mesmerize you, though my love for you was real. And when the other sorcerers and villagers found out, they shunned me. I have been alone since then, left to rot in the village.”

I move away from Mama, allowing him to step in front of her. He continues to play his instrument as he speaks, covering Mama’s frantic shouts. She scratches his face, swearing and cursing at him. He catches all of her hits before bringing his lips close to her face. The Musician leaves a trail of kisses down her neck, then comes back up, close to her face.

And sings into her ears.

Mama struggles for a bit, but eventually becomes limp in his grasp, his gift mesmerizing her. He lays her down on the ground gently, next to the instrument he had discarded. Then he places her head on his lap and runs his fingers through her hair.

All the while, he sings the songs of the fallen, of the dead. He is one of them, the Speakers, who can communicate with other entities for magic. His is the gift of music, of joy. A joy who seduced Mama, who had her dancing on his palm. He is the one who planted his seed in a dragon, who used Mama’s love for him as a way to get information about her kin, to exterminate them all.

Except, it did not go the way he imagined.

One by one, the dragons and sorcerers fell. And day by day, I grew. All the while, the Musician continued with his plan, covering Mama’s ears with his voice, and shielding her eyes with his presence. But as time went on, the gift began to go wrong and Mama’s delusions and pain became more frantic.

“I am sorry,” he whispers to her. “Forgive me, my love. I had no choice.”

“Why did it have to end this way?” I ask, watching the scene between my parents. “What was more important than your love for Mama?”

Tears roll down The Musician’s eyes. “I did not imagine the gods would be so cruel. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. The dragons were dying, much to the content of the villagers, but we kept losing some of our people as well.” He pauses before giving me a sad smile. “It was your birth that angered them the most. It was why our gods turned against us both. But you know what? I didn’t care about any of that.”

“Why?”

“Because I loved you and your mother to death. Never once did I regret being your father.”

A warm feeling settles inside my stomach when I put on my dragonskin. The Musician watches as the half-human in me slips away. He does not say another word when I open my mouth to liberate him and Mama. My teeth grind on their flesh, bones, and hearts.

The first time I had gone to the deserted village near the Red Forest, I found a small book full of illustrations. I was well-versed in New Tongue, the human language, since Mama had taught me their speech. In the book, one word captivated me: family. A union between individuals who swore to be present during their worst and best of times, whether they be related by blood, by circumstances, or both. In the picture, the members of the family were holding hands.

They looked happy.

While eating, I imagine Mama laughing and it is no longer sweet and sickening, but genuine and full of love. The Musician sings and they dance like they’d done many moons prior. They acknowledge me then, each of them extending a hand towards me. I grasp them both and squeeze.

***

The sun is peeking from behind the hills when I return to the cave. I sit outside, against the edge of the cliff, my legs dangling in the air. A warm breeze causes my black hair to fall over my forehead. A rumbling in the distance warns the approach of thunder. Light rain kisses the field of jakiras, finally nudging them from their sleep. I smile and stare at the horizon.

For a moment, images of the Great Dragons seem to materialize within the clouds. If I focus hard enough, I can make out the shape of my fallen kin, smiling down at me from above. It is time to sleep, little monster.

I place a hand over my heart, knowing my family is waiting for me. I take a deep breath before slipping off the edge of the cliff, towards the sweet, crimson field, where I can be with them for eternity.

By tomorrow, I hope the jakiras will bloom, spreading their beautiful blood for all to see.