Purple Dragon [REPUBLISHED]

Chapter 4: Ten Years Later

TEN YEARS LATER

"We are gathered to honor the life of a beautiful dragon," the Chief announced to the herd of forlorn Androsythians.

Amasya haunted the crowd. She was a lurker even at her mother's own funeral.

"Elethea was a strong, courageous dragon. She was a wonderful Medic. May she rest in peace."

Amasya felt a few tears roll down her snout. She stared at her family, the ones who disowned her, the ones who forced her to live alone for the past ten years. She was five years away from the Ceremony of Doroskly, the ceremony that she would never have. She had been robbed of a chunk of her life. They had taken her away from her mother. She would never forgive them.

Each mourner had the usual black paint lines underneath their eyes. It was the Warrior's way of saying goodbye to the lost. To the gone.

While the Chief spoke, Amasya snuck peeks at her estranged family from underneath her eyelashes. Sonia was still young, only twelve years old. Aunt Floressa and Father looked like they had aged from the constant battle that raged on. Cade had a wife, just as cold as he, and they stood with their son. Elias stood with his wife, a fellow Medic, and their new hatchling daughter. Amasya hadn't been invited to their Ceremony of Shiga or their daughter's Ceremony of Viviata.

Amasya stared at the black shroud covering her mother's body as the Chief droned on. She hadn't even known Elethea was sick. She hadn't even known until it was too late.

Cold fingers of regret seized her heart. She hadn't known a million things.

Elethea's visits had become few and far between. Amasya knew that it had been getting harder and harder for her mother to keep fighting Father to visit Amasya at all.

Amasya stared at her father and her aunt. No tears stained their faces, they looked the same as they always had. Hatred boiled beneath her skin. They couldn't even shed a tear for the wife and sister who had loved them more than life. They were the ones who kept Amasya locked up. They were the ones who had ruined her relationship with the only dragon who cared about her. And Amasya hated them.

She had gotten used to the endless hours of loneliness. Sometimes, she would walk through the woods, savoring the peace. Amasya would sit, hidden by thick forests, and watch the Warriors, some her old friends, train. She would practice the same moves using an old piece of wood.

They had moved twice since Amasya's birthplace. Each time, she was left alone to travel. Royal families ignored her, even Servants dared to spit at her. It dawned on Amasya that no one cared if she lived or died.

No one except for her mother.

It started to rain teardrops as if the whole world was mourning the death of Amasya's beautiful mother too. Even though Amasya's thick hide kept her warm, she trembled uncontrollably.
The Chief finished the final rites, and he lifted a lantern up in the sky.

Amasya watched it float away until it was only a speck on the horizon. The Chief stepped aside so that Bastian could touch the torch to the black shroud covering the cadaver.

Amasya flinched as the oily material exploded with fire. Then she watched as her mother went up in flames.

Amasya stared at the orange and yellow flames dancing and flickering into smoke. Amasya began to tremble harder and harder. A strange keening noise screeched in her ears, and she realized that the noise was coming from her.