For the next few weeks, I trail Grush, serving as an enforcer alongside him. Each person I injure weighs heavy on my mind, but it is what I must do to ensure Rior’s safety. To my relief, Trovell does not asked me to fight in the pits again. As agreed, I have sent word to Morgana on two occasions to report on Wyvern actions. All in the hopes of finding Breyton who remains elusive as ever, if he even exists at all.
Today, I find myself with some free time, so I make my way to the shelter. I have not spoken with Rior since the Wyverns recruited me, and I find myself itching for proof that they have kept their word and left him alone.
When I enter the shelter, the room falls silent as stares rain down on me. But when I try to make eye contact with the people, they look away from me. It seems that my reputation as an enforcer has begun to precede me.
Rior emerges from the back room, a small crate of freshly made bread in his arms. When he sees me, I feel a pang of sadness from the disappointment in his eyes. He slides the bread onto the counter and turns to leave without uttering a word to me.
“Rior,” I call out, but the boy ignores me. I follow him into the back room. “Rior!”
This time he stops. “What do you want?” There is venom in his voice.
“I wanted to check you are okay.”
He scowls as he fetches a cloth and begins to tidy the kitchen. “I am fine.”
“You do not seem fine.”
“I’ve heard stories from people coming here, stories about the things you have been doing. Is it true?”
A sense of shame overcomes me. “I do those things to protect you from harm.”
“At what cost, Orjan?” His face reddens as he bangs around the kitchen.
“I couldn’t let them harm you, Rior.”
Rior does not respond as he continues to bustle about. I watch, searching for the right words, but they evade me.
Finally, Rior whirls around to face me. “You are not bound to me, you have no tie. I release you of your burden, Orjan. If hurting other people is what you must do to protect me, then – then I don’t want your protection. I’ll protect us!” For a boy of such a young age, Rior shows a deep sense of wisdom. “I am ashamed, Orjan. Ashamed that I met you, ashamed of what you are doing, ashamed of you!” He stomps out of the kitchen and heads for the stairs.
“Rior, please. If you want me to stop, then please leave Eltera. It is the only way I know you will remain safe.”
“If I leave, who will help our people? Who will provide shelter, food, and warmth to those in need?” Tears fill his eyes. “Just leave, Orjan.” His footsteps creek on the old steps as he makes his way upstairs.
I am left alone in the kitchen with nothing but my thoughts. At least the boy is safe. Even if he wants nothing to do with me, at least I can rest knowing that he will come to no harm.
As I make to leave, a familiar figure fills the doorframe. Grush fixes me with a menacing stare, his breathing forced.
“And what do you think you are doing here, Dragon?”
I close my eyes and clench my teeth. It takes every ounce of me not to respond in an antagonising way. “I merely came to check in on the boy, make sure that the Wyverns are staying as true to their word as I am.”
Grush steps inside, allowing a handful of his men to pass him and fill the room around us, stopping anyone already here from leaving. “Do you hear that? The dragon questions our word. Tell me, Dragon, has any harm come to Rior?” There is a dangerous glint in his eye.
I remain silent. Over the weeks I’ve come to recognise when Grush is on the verge, and now is not a good time to provoke his temper.
“I said, has any harm come to Rior?”
He nods at one of his men and they take hold of a woman sitting with a small bowl of soup in her hands. Her clothes are tattered, her face as gaunt as it is pale. I move towards her, but Grush blocks my path.
“Do not make me repeat my question a third time, Dragon.”
“No,” I answer, not taking my eyes off the woman. “No harm has come to the boy.” She stares at me in silent pleading.
Grush nods again and one of the men strike her across her face. She whimpers as she falls back into the chair.
“That’s your fault, that.” Grush speaks through gritted teeth. “For two reasons. Number one,” he elevates his voice loudly, “you came here without permission and insulted our honour. Number two, you did not answer me when I asked you a question. Instead, you look like you’re ready to fight me. You still need to be broken in, don’t you, Dragon?” His gritted teeth morph into a sinister smile. “This is because of you, Dragon. If you sleep tonight, know in your nightmares that the ordeal this woman will face is down to your actions here tonight.”
What little colour is left in the woman’s face drains as her skin turns almost translucent, fear etched into her bloodied face. Grush’s men drag her up from the ground and she wails and screams as she tries to fight them off. Grush’s men simply sneer as they begin tearing at her clothes.
“Stop!” I yell, but Grush rushes into my space and hits me in the stomach. It is enough to take my breath and I stagger back.
“Any more from you and she will not survive the night. Then I’ll make a personal visit to Rior.”
The others in the room sit by, unsurprised by what they see and reluctant to intervene in the Wyverns’ actions.
“Come on, love, we have a long night to get through.” He smiles at me once more and all I can imagine is obliterating his head against the counter besides us. “And even more men.” He nods at the door and Grush’s men drag the half-naked woman from the shelter to gods know where.
My body is so tense that my muscles ache, my bones cracking from the tension. In my heart I just want to follow them outside and destroy them all, but that will not get me near to Breyton nor will it keep Rior or the rest of the shelter safe. I gain control of myself, seething with anger.
Grush smirks, his broken teeth on full display. “There’s a good little dragon.”
Nearly trembling with rage, I realise that I only have one option.