Dragon Fighters

Prologue The smoke burned his eyes while the smell of sweat and fear filled his nose. The sounds were overwhelming, and he tried to sort them out in his mind. The shouts of joy made sense, but the cries of sorrow from those around him only added to his confusion. Sacrifice Day was supposed to be a day of rejoicing. It was the day that the dragons were appeased, a day to celebrate the peace that had lasted for centuries. Brand was still filled with confusion as he felt a small hand fill his. He looked down to see his four-year old little sister, her fear-filled eyes looking to him for comfort, but he had none to give. Their mother would come soon. She would end their confusion. She would explain everything. The wind shifted, finally blowing the smoke out of his eyes. He was relieved that his eyes had stopped burning, but he still had a problem. The parade would be starting soon, and he couldn’t see past the crowd that surrounded them. He couldn’t even see the fires that were always burning on Sacrifice Day. Every now and then the crowd would shift, and he would catch a glimpse of the Guardians who were continually feeding the fires, making sure they didn’t go out. The Guardians in their shining metal armor and bronze facemasks were nothing to be afraid of… not for Brand. After all, his own father was one of the protectors. Right now, his father would be feeding the fires, keeping them burning. This Sacrifice Day seemed so normal and yet so different at the same time. Their mother was always here with them on Sacrifice Day, and they could always see the parade. He pushed forward with Cynthia, trying to get closer, trying to see, but they were both blocked by the rather large man who was standing in front of them. Cynthia started crying, and Brand squeezed her hand, telling her silently that it would be okay. Everything would be okay. He just had to find his mother. Finally, the man moved, and a way opened before them. Brand led Cynthia closer to the street where they could both see that the parade had already passed. Brand cheered like he always did, and one of the women in the parade turned around. Relief filled him as he recognized his mother. She must be surprising them by being in the parade this year. His relief vanished when he realized that everyone around him was still crying instead of cheering. Brand looked toward his mother for reassurance and noticed the spot of white in her hand. It was her handkerchief - the one that she always used when she cried, but that didn’t make sense…why was she crying? “Mom!” Brand yelled as he ran out toward her. Everything would be okay if he could just reach her. He pulled Cynthia after him for a few steps, but when she fell, he dropped her hand, knowing she would only slow him down. Suddenly, a Guardian stepped in front of him, picking him up. “Let me go! Mom, Mom!” Brand screamed, tears coursing down his face as he watched his mother start to move toward him. She didn’t get far before a Guardian stepped out from beside the fires and stopped her. The handkerchief dropped from her hand as she fought the Guardian who was holding her, keeping her from her children. “Brand! Cynthia!” She screamed as the Guardian pushed her forward down the street. The other Guardian picked Brand up and carried him toward the fires, away from his mother. “Stay put,” the Guardian said gruffly as he returned to his duties. Brand obeyed, sitting beside the fire as the tears continued to run down his face. Cynthia slowly found her way to him, and Brand held her as they both cried. Soon the parade was over, the fires were out, and most of the people had left. A few of the Guardians were still around, but Brand ignored them. A white scrap of cloth fluttered in the breeze, catching his attention. Brand glanced at the Guardians who were left as he ran into the street and retrieved his mother’s handkerchief. When she came back, she would need it. He hurried back to his little sister, held her in his arms, and waited… waited for someone to come.