Interlude VIII – The Old Red Moon

One bright and smoggy day in Iscrimo, without any warning, the wealthiest district in the city suddenly caught ablaze.

People gathered and fled and pointed and shouted, shocked despite themselves that a fire had started in the City of Fire. I mean really, who could have foreseen this!? Then they began to realize that the building currently on fire was the Duke’s villa, and it caused those who realized to panic harder. Why was the Duke’s villa on fire? Was it an accident, or intentional? Was the city under attack? Had the Horrors escaped the tunnels again!?

The city’s fire brigade—which hadn’t seen a true fire since before most of them were born—sprang into action. Water mages rushed to surround the buildings before the fire spread, while earth mages built barricades and dug pits.

With the people distracted with the inferno in front of them, they almost missed the little girl fleeing from one of the smoldering doorways.

Almost.

The panicking guards pointed and shouted when they saw her. But the girl didn’t wait for them to do much else—instead, she leapt off the road and into the closest lava canal, swimming away through a path no one else could follow.

It was, in hindsight, very suspicious behavior.

--

Palmira surfaced from the lava, dragging herself onto the slick black basalt of the city street. She gasped for breath, blinking molten rock out of her eyes as she tried to calm her racing heart. Pulling herself fully out of the canal, she flopped to the ground, spent.

She laid like that for a moment, before she realized the lava was starting to cool around her, and so she forced herself to get up.

As she did, she noticed a confused looking couple staring at her from across the street.

“What are you looking at?” she rasped, glaring at them. Getting to her feet, she tried wiping the remaining lava off her body, grimacing as it clung to her clothes.

After spending as long as she was willing to clean herself off, she slipped into the nearest alleyway, running home so fast her feet caught on fire.

It felt like she’d spent an eternity running through those back alleys, and yet when she finally arrived back at the old smithy she felt it hadn’t been anywhere near long enough.

Giulia was helping the old fart with the bellows, slowly pumping air into the fire while the older woman worked. Her body was soaked in sweat and her breathing ragged. She looked ill, even as she forced herself to continue.

Palmira took that all in as she ran right past them, slamming open the door to their tiny apartment.

Lenna—who’d been up until that point half-asleep and buried under piles of parchment—barely had a moment to scream in surprise before Palmira rushed past her, practically jumping onto her bedsheets. Dragging over her fraying rucksack, she immediately started packing up the few things she owned.

“Palmira!?” Lenna yelped, still half-asleep. “What are you doing!?”

“I need to leave!” she hissed back, frantic. “I need to fucking skip town! I need to get as far away from this city as physically possible!”

“What?”

“Palmira?” Giulia appeared in the doorway, squinting into their apartment. She was breathing heavily, forced to hold onto the doorframe to support herself. “Why… are you back… so early?”

Palmira glanced back at her. With a grimace, she stopped packing and turned back to the other girls. “I did… You see, I had to…” she rubbed her face, cringing as some volcanic stone she missed earlier peeled off her skin. “The Duke tried to sell me into slavery,” she said at last.

“What!?”

“That’s horrible!” Giulia gasped. “We need to—” she was cut off by a sudden cough, almost knocking herself over. “—You’re right, we need to get you out of the city before the Duke finds you again!”

“…The, uh, the Duke isn’t the person I’m worried about.”

Giulia frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I, um…” Palmira turned away from them, going back to packing. “…I may have… burned down his house. With him, uh… in it.”

“What.”

“What Lenna said,” Giulia agreed, wincing. “What? How?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do!?” Palmira huffed, crossing her arms defensively. “I didn’t exactly have a lot of time to think up a plan!”

“By the Holy Daughter,” Lenna whispered, dropping her head into her hands. “I can’t believe Palmira killed the Duke!”

“We don’t know that he’s dead, Lenna!”

“Oh, no, he’s very dead,” Palmira shook her head. “I watched him… uh… you know.”

“Oh my Goddess, Palmira, are you—"

“Now what’s this I head about you killing the Duke?”

The young girls jumped as the old fart suddenly appeared from behind Giulia. She squinted in at the three frozen and suddenly very worried girls. “Which one of you did it?”

“…I did, Margarita—”

“Not you, Giulia,” she scoffed, shoving the sickly girl onto her bed. “Now, since I know where two of you’ve been all day, I’ll make an educated guess and assume I know who it was.”

Margarita turned to Palmira. The young girl tensed, glaring at her. But then the old fart smiled, showing off yellowed teeth. “Ha! Good on you girly, maybe you’re not completely worthless after all!”

“…What?”

“Oh, come off it,” she scoffed. “That traitorous snake had it coming for years now, no need to be so modest!”

Palmira blinked. “You’re… okay with the fact that I killed the Duke?”

“Girly, I wouldn’t be surprised if half the damn city won’t be celebrating once they hear the news! Well, quietly, of course. Don’t want to get arrested for treason, after all.”

“So, wait…” Lenna frowned, confused. “If everyone’s okay with the Duke dying, does that mean Palmira doesn’t have to leave…?”

“Oh no, she should skip town if she knows what’s good for her,” the old fart waved her off flippantly. “Snake of a man that he was, even he had his supporters, most of which would see her dead within the week.”

“Oh,” Lenna muttered, while Palmira got back to packing with even more frantic urgency. “Well… where should we go, then?”

Palmira paused. “What? We?”

“Yes, we,” Lenna glared down her nose at Palmira. “Don’t think I’m not coming with you, il Tizzone! The only reason I’m even here in the first place is because of you, I’m not just going to let you flee the city without me!”

“I’m…” Giulia coughed. “…I’m coming too.”

“What? No!” Palmira turned to her, frowning. “You can’t leave! You’re the only one of us with a real job!”

“Hey!”

“You can afford to stay, you even have… her… to help you! You don’t need to give up everything you have here for me. Again.”

“But, I…”

“Hey,” Lenna scowled, yanking on Palmira’s hair, causing her to yelp. “If Giulia wants to come, I say let her come!”

“But she has—”

“Who cares! If the two of you decided to run off, I’d follow with in a heartbeat! I don’t see why she shouldn’t get to do that same.”

Palmira grimaced, but turned back to Giulia. She didn’t say anything, holding a hand over her mouth, but her eyes were pleading.

“…Fine. If you really want to give up everything you have here to flee the city with a criminal, I suppose I can’t stop you.”

“Well when you put it like that, it does sound kind of stupid,” the old fart cut in, unfortunately reminding Palmira that she was still there. “But I’ve done stupider, so I can’t judge!” she cackled, absently rubbing her eyepatch. “Ha… I suppose I should expect you three to leave today?”

“Uh, I guess?” Palmira frowned. “However long it takes the others to pack?”

“In that case…” she hummed. “I don’t care about you two, but Giulia… I should get her some supplies, don’t want her croaking before you even get out of the city… Some nails, maybe? You can never have enough nails…”

Palmira watched the old fart leave, still muttering to herself, before she suddenly stopped, just outside the doorway.

“Oh, and take the east gate,” she called back to them. “Nobody gives two stones about that one, you can walk right out and nobody’ll stop you.”

“Uh… thank you?”

“Thank me by surviving! And if you’re ever allowed back in the city, don’t bother visiting! Except for Giulia, you can visit whenever you want!”

With that she finally left, leaving the three girls staring after her.

Palmira glared at her retreating back. “I know I should be grateful, but I really hate that old fart.”

--

Fortunately, the old fart was right, and they got through the east gate with minimal trouble. What was more trouble was deciding where to go next.

Eventually they decided to flee north, through the mountain pass. Their main reason being that the Cantons were significantly closer than Firozzi or Palunera, and when they may-or-may-not have been being chased by the Duke’s guards they decided that speed was better than familiarity.

Not that they ever saw anyone chasing them. In some ways that was good, but for that first week in the mountains the paranoia of waiting for the other shoe to drop was almost as bad as if they’d actually been caught.

But they swiftly crossed the border, and once they came upon the first village that didn’t pay tribute to Iscrimo they knew they were finally out of the city. But now they were in Riva, the southernmost of the Pumilios Cantons, and with that for the first time out of human-governed lands.

Not that it seemed to matter much. Palmira didn’t know much about the Cantons, and after a couple weeks of running from tiny mountain village to tiny mountain village, she knew just as much as when she’d started.

There were more dwarves, she guessed.

At some point they stopped running and just ended up wandering. They never stopped anywhere long, though. While in some ways the tiny villages reminded her of home, in others, they were wholly alien. The villages rarely accepted them as easily as the city had, most of the dwarven villagers glaring warily at the three scarred foreign girls. Instead, they mostly survived off of the little charity they could scrounge up and Giulia’s atrophied hunting skills. Once they had to steal from a farm and ended up chased out of the village by an angry farmer and his bugbear. But they otherwise managed, for the most part. Sort of.

Palmira realized, one day, that for all that she’d come to hate Iscrimo, she’d also come to love it. It turns out she’d lost something more than just her job, that day they fled the city.

And here she never thought she’d miss that awful little apartment.

“Hey, hey,” Lenna poked her side, dragging her attention over to her. In her hands was a hunk of stone that she’d carved into something that could almost be called a face. “What do you think?”

Palmira glanced down at it. “It’s ugly.”

“It’s supposed to be. It’s your face, after all.”

Palmira rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at the other girl.

Turning back to her feet, she began stoking the fire again, shoving her hands into it and casting a few extra sparks when it refused to relight.

Today was a gloomy day. It wasn’t quite raining, but clouds darkened the sky and made it to cold to stay outside. Luckily, they’d found an abandoned storehouse on the outskirts of one of the villages to huddle in while they waited for Giulia to get back from checking her snares.

“…You know, sometimes I wish I could use magic.”

Palmira paused what she was doing, turning to Lenna. The girl was staring down at her rock, a frown on her face. “…What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing much, but…” her frown deepened. “I wish I could control stone. Or maybe ink, or charcoal. Then I could just… wiggle my fingers or something, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about messing up my art all the time.”

“Huh,” Palmira glanced down at her fingers. They were still smoking slightly. “…Well, I don’t think you need it. I, um, I know I don’t say this often, but your art is actually really impressive. It makes me jealous sometimes, too.”

Lenna gave her an odd look. “You can throw fire from your fingertips, and yet my failed sculptures make you jealous?”

“But I can barely do anything besides that!” Palmira hissed, clenching her fingers into fists, snuffing out the smoke. “All I’ve been good for since we left the city is starting campfires! Giulia gets our food, and even you can sell your art, but all I can do is beg for more talented people to take pity on me! I feel so worthless compared to the two of you!”

Lenna frowned. “…you’re being stupid. You do a lot of stuff! Like… um…”

“Like get us chased out of half the villages we stop at? Just like I got us chased out of Iscrimo? Because I just can’t seem to stop setting things on fire?”

“…Okay, you’re right, maybe I don’t want to have magic. It seems like all it does is make you mopey.”

“I’m not ‘mopey!’”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are—”

“Hey, are you two arguing again?”

The two girls paused, turning to the entrance of the storehouse. Giulia entered, face pale and sickly, but with a dead fox in one hand and a bag in the other.

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“She started it!”

“No way, she—!”

“Please,” Giulia sighed, the sigh turning into a cough halfway through. “…Not right now.”

They grimaced, but nodded, letting Giulia sit down and start setting up the cookpot. As she did, Palmira’s eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to the bag she’d brought with her.

“Hey, what’s that?”

Giulia smiled, and even though it looked painful, it also looked sincere. “Well, since today’s a special day, I thought I’d get us something nice!”

“Huh?” Palmira frowned. “Today’s special? Why?”

Lenna looked just as confused, before her eyes suddenly widened. With a yelp she jumped for her bag. “Oh no! I forgot that was today!”

Palmira stared after her. “What—what are you two talking about?”

Lenna then leapt back over to the fire, holding what she’d been looking for in her hands. And with a smug grin, she held it out to Palmira.

It was a stuffed animal. It looked roughly like a cat, sown together from spare cloth and thread that somehow looked nicer than something so slapdash should have. Its black beady eyes stared at her, while a fluffy mane that almost made it look like a lion clung to its neck.

“Happy birthday, Palmira!” Lenna grinned, handing her the stuffed cat. “Well, do you like it? I made it myself!”

Palmira stared down at it with wide eyes, gently taking it in her hands. She hadn’t had any stuffed toys since… since… that day. And then she’d never had enough money fore more, and she wasn’t good at sowing and really it had never come up, but…

Palmira felt tears form at the corners of her eyes. Slowly, she hugged the stuffed cat to her chest. Looking up at the smug Lenna, she whispered with genuine gratitude, “Thank you.”

“Heh,” she crossed her arms, sounding over the moon. “I knew you’d like it!”

“That’s not all, Palmira,” Giulia smiled, getting her attention. Reaching down, she opened up the other bag she’d brought with her, revealing a half-dozen apples piled in it. “I got us a special treat, just for today!”

And then Palmira really started crying. But her friends hugged her with smiles, and they gorged themselves on apples and fox meat, and Palmira held her new stuffed cat tightly to her chest.

That day, Palmira was happy.

--

Days passed, then weeks, and then before they knew it a month had gone by since they’d fled Iscrimo. And while they still weren’t sure what they were planning to do, one thing had become clear to the trio.

Giulia was getting worse.

It started slowly. More coughing, less strength in her limbs. She slowly began hunting less and less, and Palmira had been forced to (poorly) take over for her.

The less consistent source of food because of that probably didn’t help.

Then one day she caught a cold, and burned up so much they were afraid that she’d die.

She hadn’t been as bad in the city, but had that been due to her sedentary lifestyle or would she have gotten worse regardless?

Whatever the case may have been, the two girls knew they couldn’t heal her without help. So they bundled her up in all their blankets and dragged her into the nearest village to find a healer.

The church didn’t give out healing for free, unfortunately. No church did. That time a priestess visited their village was the kindness of a stranger, not the charity of an institution, and every time they’d gone to church since had only confirmed that. They’d tried to get Giulia help in the city, but healers were expensive, and the one time they’d tried a cheap back-alley healer it had ended with Palmira burning several people and a promise to never try that again.

Which left them here, in a little mountain village in the middle of nowhere, praying to the Goddess this town would have a healer. They’d gathered together the few coins they’d been saving for a rainy day and practically stormed into the church, begging for help.

Their prayers were, thankfully, answered.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.

“I’m sorry,” the nun who was healing Giulia sighed. “But I can’t do anymore.”

“What do you mean!?” Palmira yelled, literally spitting fire. “She’s still sick!”

“I can heal her illness just fine,” the nun scowled at her, shoving her away from her patient. “It’s the rest of it that’s the problem. She had rocks in her lungs. I can’t heal that! I’m not sure anyone could heal that!”

“But…” Palmira waved her arms around, not sure what else to do. “Isn’t there anything you can do!?”

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “But there’s nothing else I can do. If she’s survived this long like this, then I suppose it’s not immediately lethal, but if she gets sick like this again…”

Palmira slumped, falling down next to Lenna, who was holding Giulia’s hand. The girl was smiling tiredly up at them, obviously feeling better, but still far too weak to move.

The nun grimaced, and with a sigh, she stood up. “I’ll go get the Mother. Maybe there’s something that she knows that I don’t.”

The nun returned from the back a few minutes later, the Mother in tow. She was a wizened old dwarf, her black robes nearly hidden underneath the countless silver chains she’d draped over her shoulders. She took one look at Giulia, before she nodded firmly.

“Yep. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Please, Mother Rana,” Giulia quietly begged, her voice a low rasp. “Is there really nothing that can be done?”

“…Well, there is one place,” she nodded slowly. “But there is no guarantee it will work. …Though I suppose you think you have nothing to lose, don’t you? Very well. Deep in the mountains, far to the east, there’s something divine, and something blasphemous.”

Almost as if on cue, the church darkened, clouds covering the sun.

“Mother Rana,” the nun whispered, a note of fear in her voice. “Perhaps this is something the Goddess does not want known?”

The Mother nodded. “I have no doubt she does not want it to be known. But a child has come to her most faithful, begging help we cannot give. If the Goddess sees this as sin, then it is one I’ll shoulder gladly.”

The nun grimaced, but the church did not get any darker. The Goddess was displeased, but not wrathful. Not yet, at least.

The elderly dwarf sighed. “When my grandmother told me of it, she called it a Fragment of Babel. A remnant of an age long passed. From before Man arrived on this continent. I… do not remember much of the story. It has been nearly a century since I last told it. But it is said that a Saint lives on the top of the Fragment, granting miracles to those who they deem worthy.”

That was very little, but Palmira resolved herself nonetheless. “How do we know if we’re worthy?”

The Mother shrugged. “I don’t know. Be righteous? Follow the word of the Goddess? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone actually being granted a miracle.”

Lenna, on the other hand, was much more skeptical. “Wait, so there’s maybe a saint who might live somewhere in the mountains who might grant us a miracle? Do you even know where this ‘Fragment of Babel’ is?”

“Of course we know where it is!” she scoffed back. “We just don’t go near it, so that the Goddess doesn’t smite us!”

“What about us? Will we get smote?”

“I don’t know? If it’s you, probably.”

Lenna turned to the two of them. “Girls, I don’t think I want to put my faith in this woman. Let’s try and find somewhere else to—”

“No.”

They paused, turning down to Giulia. She weakly tried to force herself into a sitting position, but the rest of them forced her back down. She still glared at them resolutely. “I… I can feel it. I don’t think… I have much time left. If this miracle can… if it can help me, even a bit, then it’s a chance I’ll take gladly.”

Palmira grimaced, resignation settling on her shoulders. She turned to look at Lenna, who still didn’t look convinced, but nodded regardless.

“Very well,” Palmira sighed, turning to the Mother. “Where can we find this ‘Fragment of Babel?’”

--

They waited a week for Giulia to rest and get as well as she could. The Mother was kind enough to let them sleep in the church while they waited, though no longer. Once she could walk again they were kicked out, and they began to make their preparations.

Palmira would go with Giulia and take her to the Fragment. They’d see if the miracle was real, one way or the other.

Lenna, on the other hand, was too skeptical to put her faith in miracles. Instead, she’d follow a couple farmers north, to the somewhat larger town on the lake, where they might be able to find a better healer.

And so the three girls parted ways for the first time in years, and despite it being necessary, Palmira still couldn’t help but feel wrong, without Lenna by her side.

When they started, Giulia had been able to walk on her own. She was even able to carry her own bags most days.

That was a week ago. And Palmira wasn’t sure if it was the constant exercise or the cold mountain air, but Giulia’s condition had begun deteriorating rapidly. Now, merely a day out from their destination, Palmira feared Giulia might not even make it in the first place.

But after a week of constant travel, through increasingly barren and crumbling mountain paths, they’d finally made it.

It rose from a distant mountain, a thin strip of white splitting the grey sky.

A Fragment of Babel.

Palmira took a deep breath, steam flowing from her mouth as she exhaled. Beside her, Giulia practically leaned on her, taking each unbearably slow step at a time.

They moved slowly and consistently, an increasing sense of paranoia growing with each step closer they took. Despite the barren crags surrounding them, she couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched.

But eventually they made it to the base of the Fragment, and looking up at it, Palmira felt a familiar sense of resignation settle in her heart.

The Fragment of Babel was a tower of pure marble, reaching up into the heavens. From a distance it had looked so thin, but now that she was closer she could see that it could easily fit her entire home village inside it easily. From the base of it, it looked so high that she couldn’t see the top.

That wasn’t the worst part of it, though.

No, that had to be the dragons.

Long, red dragons stared at her from the windows of the tower. From every floor and every wall they seemed to cluster, slithering and chittering across the white marble. Watching them.

“Are you sure about this, Giulia?”

Giulia gave her a weak smile. “I… I don’t think I can go back now, no matter what. But… If you want to leave here, I won’t begrudge you.”

“Shut up,” she scoffed. “I’m not leaving you here alone, Giulia. We’re in this together.” She glanced up at the countless dragons staring down at them. “For however long this lasts.”

With that, they began their ascent.

The inside of the tower was as bare as the outside. White marble walls, floors, and stairs, as far as the eye could see. Only strange marble-looking spheres and the dragons themselves broke up the near endless monotony.

As they climbed they had to stop constantly to let Giulia rest. She’d sit on the stairs while Palmira stood watch, hacking and coughing as she tried to gather herself. More than once the smaller dragons tried to approach them, their many legs clattering against the marble stone floors, but growling and waving her arms around was normally enough to scare them off.

Normally.

One in particular decided to be brave, tall as a bear with great big jaws, it skittered to within arm’s reach of her and spat fire at her face.

Palmira tanked the hit and then spat fire right back.

After that, the dragons stopped bothering them.

They continued up the tower, slowly but steadily, the only light what trickled in from the windows and Palmira’s own fire. But slowly, eventually, they made it to the top.

Back when they’d entered the tower it had been around midday.

It was now closer to midnight.

On the top floor was a massive circular platform open to the sky. Five pillars stood equidistant from each other along the edge of the tower, above each floated a sphere: one silver, one gold, one red, one blue, and one green. Of them all, only the silver sphere was whole.

The grey mist that clung to the lower levels of the tower didn’t reach here, revealing the full moon hanging low and large in the sky, bathing the rooftop in silver light.

They walked up to the center of the roof, and it was at that point Palmira realized she didn’t know what else they were supposed to do.

There were no more dragons on the roof. There was nothing.

But, as it turned out, she didn’t have to wait for long.

A roar bellowed in her heart, and from behind the moon a red dragon appeared.

It did not look like the dragons she was used to. Its body was impossibly long and segmented, almost like a centipede’s, with countless stubby legs. Two sets of massive yet thin wings fluttered powerfully as it flew, reflecting the moonlight and turning the world red as it approached.

The dragon flew over their heads, forming a red ring in the sky that framed the moon perfectly.

And then it descended, landing on the tower and curling around it from base to roof, clutching at it with its countless legs. Its head drew close to them, letting them see that each individual scale on its snout was larger than Palmira was tall. Cloudy white eyes glared down at them as it opened its mouth, revealing row after row of blunted teeth.

“GREETINGS, MORTALS,” the Ancient Dragon spoke. Its voice drilled into her mind, impossibly powerful. And yet, she instinctively knew it was holding back, that it could destroy them with a single careless word if it so chose. “I AM CALLED FTHORA, LAST SON OF THE RED MOON. WHO ARE YOU, TO DISTURB MY REST? WHO ARE YOU, TO DISTURB THIS SACRED PLACE?”

Palmira took a deep breath, before squaring her shoulders and stepping forward. “Oh great dragon! I… I am Palmira! I, uh, I mean my friend, is sick! We heard you could grant miracles…? Um, can you cure her?”

It huffed, and smoke that smelled of rust poured from its mouth.

“THERE ARE NO TRUE MIRACLES IN THIS WORLD,” the Ancient Dragon told them. “A MIRACLE IS SIMPLY WHAT THE WEAK USE TO DESCRIBE THE ACTIONS OF THE STRONG. DO NOT ASK ME FOR A MIRACLE—FOR I CAN NOT GIVE YOU ONE.”

Palmira grimaced, and she felt Giulia slump in her arms. Still… “But are you strong enough to create something we’d call a miracle?”

“OF COURSE, LITTLE MORTAL,” the Ancient Dragon scoffed. “BUT SUCH A MIRACLE WOULD NOT COME CHEAP. I CANNOT HEAL WITHOUT HARMING. I CANNOT HARM WITHOUT HEALING. A LIFE FOR A LIFE, A DEATH FOR A DEATH. I COULD SAVE YOUR FRIEND, BUT IN EXCHANGE, YOU WOULD NEED TO SACRIFICE YOUR OWN LIFE.”

Palmira blinked, eyes wide. And she considered it, despite how Giulia clung to her body.

Because Giulia was her friend. The friend who wasn’t wanted by Iscrimo, who could return and get a job as a blacksmith or a hunter or anything and live a happy life with Lenna in the city. The friend who’d been dying for years, but who could now live.

“No…”

Palmira did not want to die. But she wanted her friend to die even less. And if only one of them could return from this tower, then…

“I…” she wet her mouth. “I… accept. If I need to, then I’ll…”

“No…!”

The Dragon stared down at her for a long moment, and then he scoffed, heat and smoke billowing over them like a wave. “I REFUSE YOUR SACRIFCE.”

“…What?”

“YOUR DEDICATION TO YOUR FRIEND IS ADMIRABLE, BUT MISPLACED. I WILL NOT KILL ONE CHILD TO SAVE ANOTHER.”

Giulia slumped in relief, but Palmira, more than anything, got angry. “Then why the hell did you even give me the option in the first place!? What was even the point of that!?”

“ALL CHOICES HAVE CONSEQUENCE, LITTLE MORTAL. EVEN THOSE THAT ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE MADE.”

The Ancient Dragon Fthora leaned close, until its snout was mere inches away from them.

“I CANNOT HEAL THE SICK ONE, NOT WITHOUT SACRIFICE I REFUSE TO TAKE. BUT THERE IS A FIRE IN YOUR HEART, IN YOUR BODY, IN YOUR SOUL. A FIRE THAT BURNS YOU EVEN NOW. I CANNOT HEAL HER, BUT I CAN HEAL YOU.”

Palmira stared at the titanic dragon in confusion and anger. It could heal her burn scars? The ones that had defined the last few years of her life? The ones that made everyone call her an ugly child? That was… that wasn’t fair! “…No way in hell! If you can’t heal her, then don’t bother healing me, you big, red…!”

The Ancient Dragon seemed almost amused. “YOU ACT AS THOUGH YOU GET A CHOICE. IF I DECIDE SOMETHING, THERE IS NOTHING YOU COULD DO TO STOP ME. BUT FAIRNESS AND EQUALITY ARE CONCEPTS I TREASURE DEARLY. WHICH IS WHY I OFFER YOU SOMETHING MORE, A COMPROMISE THAT ALL OF US MIGHT BENEFIT FROM.”

Palmira and Giulia stared up at him, anger and confusion on their respective faces.

“YOU, THE SICK GIRL. AS YOU ARE NOW, YOUR BODY IS FORFIET. IT IS CRUMBLING EVEN AS WE SPEAK, AS STONE GROWS IN YOUR LUNGS AND YOUR BREATH GROWS SHORT. EVEN SHOULD YOU LEAVE THIS TOWER, YOU WOULD NOT SURVIVE THE RETURN TO WHERE YOU CAME. THIS IS INEVITABLE.”

Giulia slumped, but nodded, having likely already come to the same realization.

“BUT THIS NEED NOT BE THE ONLY BODY YOU MUST HAVE. SO I OFFER YOU THIS DEAL—SACRIFICE YOUR CONNECTION TO YOUR PRECIOUS GODDESS, AND SWEAR YOURSELF TO THE RED MOON, AND I SHALL GRANT YOU A NEW BODY. A BETTER BODY. THE BODY OF A DRAGON.”

Giulia’s eyes went wide. That was… “But what of heaven?” she rasped, her voice so quiet compared to the booming dragon’s. “Where will I go, once I die again? I… to give up my afterlife for my life, it feels…”

The Ancient Dragon grinned. “YOUR ‘HEAVEN’ IS NOT THE ONLY LAND OF THE DEAD WHICH CLINGS TO THIS WORLD. THE RED MOON REMAINS, EVEN NOW, EVEN DEAD. OUR LANDS ARE AN ETERNITY OF PEACE, OF GORGING OURSELVES ON THE GREATEST OF PREY AND SLEEPING BENEATH FAMILIAR STARS. IT IS NOT THE HEAVEN YOU MIGHT IMAGINE A HUMAN TO ENJOY, BUT IT IS A KINDER FATE THAN THOSE WHO CLING TOO CLOSELY TO YOUR GODDESS’ SKIRTS.”

Giulia bit her lip, before turning to Palmira, begging answers with her eyes. “Do you… think I should do it?”

Palmira herself didn’t know. But… “If you get to live, even as a dragon, then I’ll still call you my friend. It’s… actually kind of cool, don’t you think?”

Giulia’s weak smile grew a bit more sincere. “Yeah… it kind of is…”

Then she took a deep breath, and standing as straight as she was able, she spoke. “Oh great and ancient dragon. I… I accept your offer! If I get to live, then I will sacrifice… sacrifice my faith, and swear myself to your red moon!”

“EXCELLENT!” The Ancient Dragon Fthora laughed, the boom of it causing the tower to shake and rattle. “IT HAS BEEN SO LONG, SINCE A PACT HAS BEEN MADE! AH, HOW DID IT GO AGAIN…? YES, OF COURSE. I WELCOME YOU, GIULIA, NEW SISTER, NEW DAUGHTER! A NEW CHILD OF THE RED MOON, AFTER SO MANY YEARS! I, FTHORA, WELCOME MY NEWEST FAMILY WITH OPEN WINGS!”

And then Giulia began to glow. Softly at first, then brighter, and brighter, until she was impossible to look at.

Palmira was forced away as she changed. The wind blew in gales, and the stars seemed to flicker, and her skin began to itch. But then, slowly, the light dimmed back down.

And in Giulia’s place was one of the many marble spheres she’d seen on her way up.

“H-hey!” Palmira shouted, running up to it. She turned to the titanic dragon, enraged. “What did you do to her!”

“FEAR NOT, FIRE CHILD. THE FORM OF A HUMAN DOES NOT SO EASILY CHANGE TO THAT OF A DRAGON. THIS IS MERELY AN EGG OF MY BROOD, FROM WHICH SHE WILL ONE DAY HATCH. DO NOT FEAR, AND DO NOT MOURN—FOR I DO NOT LIE. SHE WILL BE REBORN, BUT ALL DRAGONS HATCH FROM EGGS, AND SO TOO SHALL SHE.”

Palmira scowled at him, only a little comforted. “And you couldn’t have told us that before this happened!?”

“OF COURSE NOT,” he seemed to almost grin. “THAT MIGHT HAVE CHANGED HER ANSWER. BUT REGARDLESS, HERS IS NOT THE ONLY TRANSFORMATION THAT HAS OCCURRED ON THIS NIGHT.”

“What…?” Palmira asked, before she glanced down, and her eyes widened in shock. Her arms, which had once been a patchwork of burn scars, were now smooth as a newborn child’s. Her hands went up to her face, and she nearly flinched as she touched smooth skin. “What did you do…?”

“YOUR SCARS WERE MERE SUPERFICIAL DAMAGE. SO, WHEN I DESTROYED GIULIA’S OLD MORTAL BODY, I USED THE SACRIFICE OF IT TO FUEL YOUR OWN RESTORATION. INDEED, THIS IS SOME OF MY BETTER WORK! YOU MAY THANK ME NOW, MORTAL!”

Palmira rubbed her face, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but feel grateful. “…Thank you, oh great dragon.”

The Ancient Dragon Fthora seemed to grin. And then, will a bellowing huff, he blew smoke from his mouth, covering the whole of the roof in an instant. Palmira brought her hands up to her face to protect herself, but within a few moments the smoke disappeared.

When she looked back up, the dragon was gone.

And all that was left was the egg.

Palmira stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on the surface of the egg. It felt… warm.

“I’ll come back, Giulia,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to the marble-like shell. Her voice began to warble, as she held back tears. “And when I do, we can catch up on all the stuff you missed while you were in this stupid egg. It’s a promise, okay?”

The egg didn’t respond, of course. But she could swear it got just a little warmer.

And with a deep breath, Palmira turned to the leave.

And then realized she’d have to climb all the way back down the tower. And walk back. Alone.

You know, being able to ride a dragon would be pretty convenient right about now.

--

Over a week later, she finally made her way back to the city, muddy and exhausted, two bags of dwindling supplies slung over her shoulders.

She found Lenna quickly, sitting despondently on the steps of the church, clutching her legs. Her eyes roved over her, almost as if she didn’t recognize—

Oh, right.

“Hey,” Palmira rasped, stopping in front of her.

Lenna jumped to her feet. “What—who—wait, il Tizzone, is that you!? …Wait, where’s Giulia?”

“…Yeah, I…” Palmira tried to smile. She tried to tell her friend what had happened.

But she was so, so tired.

Instead, all she could do was hug Lenna and cry.