The Sinner's Blade

"There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Of course there weren't always a plague of darkness coming in from the west either, but here we are," Taeven said, fixing his boot straps for what seemed like the thousandth time that hour.

"Right. So now we're hunting them, because we hate ourselves, or...?" Ever the optimist Jean crossed his standing behind Taeven, sure that if they did encounter a dragon it would do the sensible thing and eat Taeven first.

"Well, that, and because their scales are worth their weight in gold." Taeven looked down at the map and then up at the canopy of trees overhead, adjusting the chart this way and that, because then maybe the two wouldn't be horribly lost.

"What if, and I know this is crazy, we just went home?" Jean suggested for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

"Brilliant Jean, and what do you suggest we do once we're there?" Taeven hacked through some undergrowth with his hatchet twirling it as if it were a maiden, and he a practiced dancer. "Oh, Mayor Theobald wonderful to see you, sorry we murdered a few innocent families! Ah, Jean, Taeven! What a wonderful surprise, oh those families weren't all that great anyhow, water under the bridge."

"We didn't kill them though," Jean didn't like how simplistic Taeven made it sound, but his impression of Theo was impeccable - credit where credit's due and all that.

"O'course we didn't kill em Jean. Still, it stands that I was standing over their bodies, bloody ax in hand. And you, well..." Taeven's chopping took pause, "Look I'm sorry Jean but we're better off outta that town."

"Fair point," Jett shrugged, "But why do we have to be hunting dragons of all things? There weren't any easier quarry? A stag maybe? Oh, I know how about literally anything beside a 1,000 pound angry lizard with wings that breathes fire?"

"Them breathing fire's a myth Jean, come on now." Jean shook his head. Taeven was impossible at times, and very, very difficult at others. Still Taeven had believed him. That was enough.

"Hey, when we find the dragon how are we supposed to kill-"

The words hadn't quite left his mouth when a shadow pierced the sky and canopy above, followed by a wind that tore through the ground beneath, and then a screech that made the duo put their hands to their ears. A nice ringing pitch was left even after the beast had stormed past.

Jean and Taeven both ceased all of what they considered to be witty banter in order to pursue at full strength the monstrosity that had made itself known.

They stood no chance at catching up with the beast, especially not on the forest floor where they were busy slashing at overhanging branches and growths.

If it were only a matter of speed they would be out of luck, but the way they navigated that forest proved that they were worthy of some of their salt. Tracking a monster is not a matter of speed, but endurance. And in the art of being able to put up with stupid things for as long as humanly possible Taeven, and Jean were experts in the craft.

The thing about a dragon is that it's very large. Some may call it huge, but they'd be wrong, it's just very large. That said, in a forest where branches break and forceful wind leaves a lasting impression on the leaves, dragons aren't all that hard to track down. It also helps that dragons don't try to hide where they're going. Because who in their right mind tries to track a dragon?

It took most of the day and into the evening for Jean and Taeven to catch up to it. They were sweaty, bruised, cut and scraped from the stray branches and thorns of an unforgiving forest. Yet there they were, at the base of a large tree. Well, a massive tree.

"Have you considered how we're going to actually kill it?" Jean asked Taeven. Surely he had a plan. Surely Taeven wouldn't drag both of them through the Valley of Tir Draeg without some type of plan.

"Not yet," Taeven said, breathing heavily as he busied himself with his boot straps.

"Not yet. Not yet he says. That's good, don't busy that brain of yours it's not like we're on the threshold of the dragon's nes-oh, wait a second, that's exactly where we are"

"Calm down Jean, I haven't figured out the finer details, but I figure that thing has a neck, and necks are important to daily life, and if we cut the neck- well that has to cause some damage."

This time it was Jean's turn to adjust his boot straps.

"That's good that plan of yours, so you go up, cut it's neck with that hatchet of yours, not dull at all from cutting through a forest's worth of vines and branches. I'll watch from afar and pray for you."

"I won't be using this thing, I'll be using Betsy," Taeven pointed a thumb at the wrapped up battle ax on his back. He hadn't used it since, well, since the last time everyone thought he used it.

The duo spent the better part of an hour and a half climbing up the huge tree.

"I hate you," Taeven called. The long and slender Jean made it look easy to climb the tree, slipping in and out of footholds and reaching around long spaces where there was very little to hold onto. Jean could support most of his weight on his fingertips and his body bent in positions that made Taeven's knees hurt to think about.

"Need some help?" Jean asked, looking down on his squat muscular friend, white knuckling each and every crevice, more than once losing his grip on a slippery piece of bark.

"No," Taeven lied.

The pair wound their way to the top of the tree, all the way to where wind was becoming a nuisance pulling this way and that on an already precarious pair of climbers. It was here that they spotted the nest. Large branches amassed in a pyre of danger and reward. Spending as little energy as possible they crawled through the spaces between some of the larger branches and moss.

Two heads poked through the inside of the nest, looking at a curled up and sleeping dragon, it's snoring creating almost a refreshing hum.

"It doesn't look at all menacing from this angle does it?" Taeven asked.

"You mean the angle in which it's not trying to kill us? Yeah not as menacing" Jean said. Waiting for something to happen, but the night wore on in peace. They waited a few hours for the sun to set, and then for the moon to rise, and then-

"Well go on," Jean said, "it's your time to shine Tae-" Taeven had fallen asleep on his stomach while waiting for the most 'opportune' time to strike. Jean nudged him gently, and then not gently.

"Wha-what?" Taeven awoke clattering about. Jean panic-looked over at the sleeping dragon to make sure that it remained in it's peace.

"I swear to the gods- go and make the scaly thing bleed" Jean said.

"About that," Taeven scratched his head, "I'm having second thoughts."

Jean blinked.

"You're what?"

"I'm having-"

"I heard you. I'm incredulous. That's the emotion I'm feeling right now. Absolutely astonished. Perplexed. For what reason my good friend, could you of all people be having second thoughts? I propose you have some third thoughts, or even some fourth thoughts and get on with making that dragon have the worst sore throat of it's life." Jean was whisper yelling, a tactic often used by him towards Taeven in situations eerily similar to this one.

"Well look at it!" Taeven pointed. Jean lay stupefied. It was the same dragon. Nothing had changed. Taeven's ability to find anything adorable when sleeping was the exact reason he had believed him about that incident, but gods was it annoying right now.

"Fine. I'll do it." Jean made his way into the soft padding of the nest proper readying his bow and walking steadily toward the dragon.

Closer, and closer Jean strode, not giving heed to the whisper yelling that Taeven was doing from about ten feet behind him. It wasn't until he was nearly on top of the lying beast that he saw them. A few large eggs nestled near the belly of the sleeping mother.

One of those would be worth more than a hundred scales.

Jean felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Taeven shaking his head. A bitter taste entered Jean's mouth and he knew it for what it was. Pity. He lowered his arrow. He couldn't do it either.

They were making their way back to the edge of the nest, ideally to a spot where they could catch a quick nap before making their way back to the forest floor.

That's when they heard it. A twig snapping. The type of twig that has no business making such a loud pop, but one that does anyway. The duo turned to see a cloaked figure approaching the dragon.

The cloaked figure stopped in it's tracks realizing that his foot had found one of those miracle twigs of popping. The dragon stirred, and for a moment all in the nest was tension and fear for all parties awake.

Another moment passed and the dragon went on in it's slumber. The cloaked figure crept closer.

"You there, stop!" Taeven whisper yelled at the cloaked figure. Apparently the figure had either not heard or chose not to hear. Either way, Taeven was ignored. Which, didn't bode well for anyone.

"You there, stop," Taeven regular spoke. Again ignored.

"I said. Stop!" Taeven regular yelled. This time not ignored, by the cloaked figure or the dragon.

With a snap the dragon stood to it's legs, creating a tiny earthquake within the nest. Time stood still, except for the dragon who craned it's neck back and forth surveying the situation. A cloaked figure near her eggs - two more figures weapons leveled at the cloaked figure.

Interesting.

One would think, that if a robber is caught in the act he would give up . That he would surrender or slink away. Some thieves however, are implacably stupid. This one for example decided to dart towards the eggs, taking one and rolling under the dragon. Stupid, daring, and cunning often go hand in hand it would seem.

The dragon scurried, if it can be described as scurrying and placed itself so as to be able to swipe the thief with a giant claw, but the thief did something that, well, was typical of one who likes cliche's.

The cloaked figure held a small hammer to the egg. His hood had fallen in the roll. The moonlight reflected on his bald head, and the egg, creating something of a juxtaposition. To tell them apart, one egg had a bad goatee and a wicked smile.

"No closer thank you, or your egg will crack." The dragon curled with rage. smoke billowing out of it's nostrils, flames playing at it's mouth and teeth.

"Looks like they can breathe fire," Jean said.

"Huh, who knew?" At this point both the dragon and the thief turned their attention to the two who had ruined the thieve's plot originally.

"And you two. You'll grab those other eggs over there if you know what's good for you," The dragon stood in the way of that demand.

"Or what you'll smash that egg?" Jean asked.

"Simpletons" the thief muttered, in a way that they could hear it, "if you don't grab those eggs, you'll make an enemy of Victor Krieg, King of thieves."

The duo started laughing. They couldn't help it. No one should call themselves by their titles, even if it was true.

"Better idea," Jean said. Quick as sin, Jean loosed an arrow into the thieves thigh, dropping him to a knee in a moment. Another arrow pinned his left foot to a branch. At the same time Taeven rushed forward at a pace Victor thought impossible for the squat man. In an instant he covered the space between them.

The thief had little time to react as his body was twisted in ways that didn't make sense. He felt the egg leave his hand, but couldn't figure out what was happening until he was laying face first in a pile of branches and leaves, one of his arms pinned behind his back.

As for the egg, Taeven had made sure that in his grappling he had secured it safely onto the ground nearby. He fixed Victor's hand to his back using a knife, like a toothpick sticks and olive to a sandwich. The cries of pain made even the dragon wince. If dragons could wince.

The entire thing took less than ten or twenty seconds. The dragon watched it all, never losing sight of her egg. The savage nature of man had never ceased to amaze and beguile. The squat one had taken her egg now and brought it to her.

Bowing from half reverence half fear, he lay the egg at her feet.

Tell me squat one, what is your name?

Jean and Taeven were shocked at the voice in their heads. Reverberating like an echo in a cave, it was at once melodic and terrifying.

"Taeven. That's Jean." Taeven poked his head in Jean's general direction, but decided it was best not to take his eyes off of the big scaly monster with wings who he found out recently can, in fact, breathe fire.

Jean waved, unsure of the pleasantries that one gives when introducing oneself to a dragon.

I am Dersiti.

Jean and Taeven would be hard pressed to spell that, as it sounded mostly like guttural nonsense, but they both later decided that Dersiti was the closest thing to whatever it was the dragon had said.

"Well met," Taeven said.

"Just so, well we'd better be going," Jean was already slinging his bow on his back.

Why did you come to my nest?

Jean was already most of the way to the edge of the nest. Taeven was still half bowing half crouching close to the dragon. Jean didn't want to answer that question at all. He was already thinking of some, what he considered, fantastic lies. We've been chasing Victor for years, he's our arch nemesis. We were in the area, just passing through. This? This is your nest? Oh, silly us, we thought it was ours, you know how these giant trees are.

Jean was still working his way through lies in his head when Taeven blurted out something terrible. The truth.

"We were coming to kill you and sell yours scales" Taeven said.

Smoke coiled out of the dragon's nose.

"Well we didn't though." Teaven blurted out, words tripping over themselves. Taeven looked at the mother dragon in all of her ferocity. "We saw ye sleeping with your eggs, and we just couldn't do it."

Jean gave up trying to leave the nest at this point. He made his way over to the currently subdued Victor and planted his knees on the base of his neck and small of his back. He managed to retrieve both arrows before the thought speak came back

and now?

"Well considering you let us live, we're gonna probably leave this nest, take a nap and then try to survive in this forest until the end of our days," Jean had a flair for the dramatic, especially when he was nervous about melting under dragon's breath.

Victor was starting to struggle now, recovering from his brief respite of unconsciousness.

"Let me go," He yelled.

May I?

Jean got up from his perch of Victor's back, and in one motion the dragon plunged its large claw into the soft flesh of Victor's everything, ending the King of thieves. If that's even who he really was.

Now what should I do with you two?

"If you're open to suggestions, I would like to submit that you let us live, preferably burn free." Jean figured it was worth a shot.

If dragon's could laugh, Dersiti would've. As it was she hacked smoke from her deep lungs in a way that made Taeven and Jean terribly uneasy.

Did you know this was the third time this moon cycle that thieves have come for either my scales or my eggs?

Jean and Taeven both shrugged.

How would you two like to become ambassadors of a dragon?

Jean and Taeven both shrugged.

Very well, I Dersiti daughter of fire and ash, bestow upon thee the rite of the dragon.

A warm sensation filled them as what appeared to be an ancient ritual was taking place within their bodies, and they had to keep themselves from laughing as no one should mention themselves with their titles. Even if it was true.