Dragon Whisperer

Three sisters, one mission, one battle, gone wrong.

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4. Noo, noo, and NO.

I wake up. I shake my groggy head to clear it. I have that odd feeling in my head like when I drink the wine during weekends and holidays with my parents. What are they called? Right hangovers, I have a hangover. I start to wonder were Fire is then I remember last night.
I look myself over I find very few wounds, it’s seems that whoever it was gave up soon after Fire fell. The only bad wound starts at the corner of my eye and runs back to my hair line in a perfect veridical line. I feel its bumpy surface with aching hands. The wound is still sticky with blood. I pull my hand away and look at it the dark crimson blood staining it.
I start to climb down the tree. My tired hands and feet slip unable to catch a hold. I barely manage to pull myself back to a sitting position and nearly fall like Fire had before me. Then I catch a small barely audible sound.
I heave sigh when I hear Swords whimper and meow pitifully. Her deep light green eyes ask me “What happens next? Where is Fire?”
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know I just don’t know.” I cry. Emotion and fear well up in my voice.
She cringes with disappointment in me. “You can do better than that! Fire always did!” She seems to say. And then she jumps of the branch but unlike what I know happened to Fire lands perfectly on her feet. Then the dainty tuxedoed cat disappears out of the clearing. Daggers slips to my shoulder and nuzzles me, and I can’t help but feel better, but not much. Just enough to keep my mind on climbing. And slowly the sadness returns so by the time I actually I make it to the bottom I am in full tears again.
 As soon I finish climbing down the tree I weep and run. My eyes are blurred with tears so I don’t notice until I plunge into the stream, that I was running along a stream bank downstream. I suddenly notice that there are footprints instantly my brain translates this into Fires killer, even if it was indirectly that was the obvious intent. I slip along the trail of footprints in the soft sand so hard not to made and so easy to forget to cover.
I start to look for a good place to sleep for the night, it is dusk, so I can’t continue much longer, but I am hoping to catch up soon, and revenge my best friend.
What Daggers I and have had to eat is what she could catch and I could gather, it wasn’t much and the only thing that drives me on is Fire and my anger at her death.
I know-who am I to judge the world? And who am I to decide what is wrong what is right. But Fire had done nothing wrong as far as I know. And I now have set my path to be what she was like and I will do had what I know she would have done if that been me who fell. But the real reason I force myself on is that I think that I kill that who killed her that maybe she would be more real, and that I could be with her and her with me. And if not he who killed her would at least feel the pain she felt when she died. And that if some how she survived that when I find her, (for I shall look for her forever) that she shall feel that she is more than just my maid. That she, is my friend.
“W-w-where’d they go? The tracks disappeared into the water I’ll never find them. But as I say the words I know I will and I know I must.”
So I plunge into the stream and smile as the warm water touches my skin. I duck my head in the clear water searching footprints and as I expected found none. Trudge to the bank and walk into the forest I doubt I will find them, but I will search for them and for Fire.
I hear a cracking in the woods that line the path (where I had found the footprints and then recently lost them in the woods again) I unsling the bow the bow from my back and resling the bow pulling an arrow from the quiver strapped to my thigh. Ready pull the bow to full at the first sign of need. And much to my surprise a girl Fires age, and so close to her appearance, I mistake her for Fire at first, flips down from the tree above me the only difference? Fires hair is a stunning scarlet, this girl is towheaded.
She bows her head slightly “Are you lost? Do you need help?”
“No not from you” and I pull the bow back to full draw and aim it between her eyes as she had once aimed it at me and let it shoot she catches the inches from her face.
 “I would not shoot me if I were you I have a sister who would kill to save me”
“You shouldn’t, I suppose she is assassins just like you.”I hiss
“Do not shun Fire! It does not matter much if you shun me but don’t shun or you will find yourself dead”
“You’re the one who killed her, anyways if your sister was Fire then you don’t have a sister anymore.” My voice letting saddens pull though my body into my voice
“If you killed her I will kill you.” Raw anger and sadness powers though her voice making it almost scary
“You’re the one who killed her”
‘No I am not. But you are the ghost who haunt, and tries to kill me, just because you think that I killed you when you were alive.
“As are you”
“I am not, but did you kill her?”
“No she is my maid and friend” I say horrified she would even think that of me
“Then you are Weepingwillow” she says dropping into a semicurtsy but the sarcasm never leaving her voice or her motions.
“Yes Weepingwillow the princes of this land” trying to cancel the sarcasm in dignity failing beyond what I thought possible of a princes
“I am glad I have met you. But now I must search for Fire.” And for the first time the sarcasm drops from her voice
“But she’s not alive.” I say confused.
“I must search anyways” she flips the arrow from her fingers, I’m about to move out of the way of the arrow, but it lands perfectly in the quiver.
“You will be needing it if you find Fire’s killer. Otherwise I would keep it!” She warns.
Then she jumps up onto the branch and disappears.

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