Purple Dragon [REPUBLISHED]

Chapter 2: Horrors

She was sure that they were only made up. Dragons dark as night, able to slip through the shadows. Lurking dragons. You didn't know they were watching you until they pounced.

Branwenn dragons.

It was only slightly larger than Amasya, puny compared to a fully grown Androsythian. That was the way they worked. Branwenn dragons were cowards, but clever. They didn't play by the rules. Snatching hatchlings from their nurseries was one of their dirty tricks. Now Amasya was caught in the middle. A highborn dragonet would be a rare prize to a Brannwenn.

"Elias!" she screamed. The Branwenn's hide was black as coal, and its eyes had reversed pupils. They terrified Amasya. The dragon lifted its razor sharp talons.

Amasya cowered.

Suddenly a huge blur rammed into the Branwenn's side.

"Get up Amasya!" Elias cried frantically. "Hurry!"

Amasya picked herself up and started running, but tripped again. Panic shot through her. "It's got my paw, Elias!" she sobbed. "Let go!" She shook her leg viciously. The Branwenn dragon lay in the grass, momentarily stunned, and leaned on Amasya, crushing her.

She screamed as she heard bones cracking. It used its talons in an attempt to grab her, but instead, they raked across her leg.

Searing pain shot through Amasya. It was like nothing she had ever experienced. Black spots danced across her vision as her leg burned with intensity. She howled like a banshee, but her cries grew weaker as the blackness started to overtake her. She fell into a place where there was no pain, only blessed darkness.

...

Warm voices slurred together as Amasya lifted her heavy eyelids. She was back in her old room in her old home. Glowing candlelight lit up the small room. She looked outside at the black sky. Was it night already? She shuddered as she saw the dark shadows outside her window.

A thick, woolen blanket covered her. Confused, she looked around.
Her mother sat next to her, dark bruises from lack of sleep underneath her eyes. A young Servant kept the fire lit.

"Mother?" she croaked. Elethea's eyes shot up, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Amasya!" she cried, hugging her daughter tightly.

"Mother, what happened?"

"There was an accident. You and Elias were attacked by a Branwenn dragon, remember?"

Panic seized Amasya. "Is Elias okay?"

"He's fine. A little shaken up." Elethea smiled wryly. "He's mostly worried about you."

Amasya settled back into her cot, comforted. The Servant carried a dish of hot broth and fed her. The warmth slid down her throat and into her belly. She was just settling down to take a nap when the door swung open. Something in her stomach lurched.

Aunt Floressa entered looking murderous. "I hope you're satisfied," she said icily to her bed-ridden niece.

"Floressa-" Elethea started but was cut off.

"You ungrateful little beast!" she growled. "Thanks to you and your foolishness, you've kept back Keslin. The other Androsythian legions will be able to sense our weaknesses. We could be engaged in battle right now because of you."

"It wasn't my fault," Amasya said in a small voice.

"What a horrible hatchling," Floressa eyes flashed. "Was if not your idea to go and get the baskets of herbs?"

Amasya cursed Sonia and her tattling. She nodded reluctantly.

"And how many times have we told you that you would shame our family doing a job that the weakest are employed to do?"

"Many times," she said in a voice barely audible.

"Had you any idea that you were putting your brother, a promising Medic, and your sister, a fellow Warrior, in danger? Did you think at all?"

"No," Floressa answered for her niece. "No, because you never think!" She turned to Elethea. "I warned you, sister. I warned you that you should have thrown her out when she was a newborn hatchling. It was her color that attracted that Branwenn. What if there had been flocks and flocks of them? Our children would be dead! And not only Branwenns! What about other armies of dragons? Not even mentioning other legions of Androsythians! She will be the death of us all! She is cursed!"

Floressa's eyes snapped in anguish, "My own daughter died because of someone like her!" Pain layered her voice.

Floressa's words struck her in the chest. Had she attracted that Branwenn because of her color? She looked down at her paws. They were glowing a bright fuchsia, just like they had every day since the day she had been born.

Amasya had never cared what others had thought of her extraordinary coat. Mother never minded. Elias and Sonia hadn't either. And Aunt Floressa had always been cruel to everyone.

But now...this was different. Had she really put Elias and Sonia in danger?

"They were really scary," she said in a small voice. "Worse than a Rogue."

Floressa's eyes flashed. Amasya yelped as a sudden burst of pain erupted on the side of her snout.

"Never say that," her aunt hissed. "Nothing is worse than a Rogue."
Rogues, deserters, criminals. They were all the same to her aunt. Dragons that left the tribe or escaped execution. The "Rogue Army" was just a scare tactic, but Rogues were real. The Chief was on an endless hunt to catch them and kill them.

"You never think about how your actions or your words can affect someone," her aunt said coldly.

"I'll stop," Amasya said hopefully. "I'll learn to think. I'm doing well in training, Auntie. I'll learn to be useful, to be an asset to our legion."

Floressa snorted. "You'll never be a true Warrior. You are nothing but a burden!"

Her words stung like nettles. "I can be useful!" she protested. She sat up in her bed. "You can arrange a marriage for me, anything at all!"

"No, you can't," Floressa said spitefully. "Ever since the day you were born you've brought shame and humiliation on our family. No one would ever dare marry one so ugly and abnormal. And now you've gone and mutilated yourself."

"Floressa!" Elethea's voice was sharp. "Stop."

"You'll never be the same again."

"Floressa, stop!"

"You're useless to us."

"Floressa!"

"You're a cripple!" she snapped.

"FLORESSA!" Elethea cried angrily. "Get out of my home! Get out!"

Amasya was confused. Sure she would have a few scars, but beauty didn't mean anything in her tribe. Scars were a sign of won battles, a sign of respect...

Her aunt ignored Elethea. Hate burned in her eyes. Amasya shivered. Floressa wanted to hurt her.

"Take a look at this!" She threw off the covers revealing Amasya's injury.
Angry red lacerations ran down the side of her leg. Bandages practically covered the whole thing. Everything there looked serious and grave, but it was what wasn't there that shocked Amasya.

Her leg was gone.