glow. Did high emotions trigger the transformation, or was it the dragon inside him rising to the surface?
"I was knighted for slaying a dragon. It was the first of many."
His body tensed and she knew his tale was not over. The worst was yet to come.
"From that day on, we knew how to fight them. How to kill them. The Black and I dedicated our honor, our very lives, to destroying the beasts. Others soon joined us in our fight to rid the land of this winged plague. We called ourselves dragonslayers.
Baelin looked away, shielding his own dragon eyes from her.
"We learned that for centuries upon centuries, the creatures had lived peacefully high in the mountains, only venturing out of their dens to feed. The loss of a cow here or a few sheep there generally went unnoticed. But then the Dark Witch discovered a way to control them, to harness their power, and she began to use them against mortal man."
"So, this Dark Witch, she's not human?"
"Nay. She looks human enough, but she is not. As far as anyone knows, she has existed as long as the dragons have."
He shifted where he sat, but still refused to look at her as he continued his tale. "Our battle was no longer against the dragons alone, but with the Dark Witch as she used them against us. Three years passed. Three long years of hunting these creatures with every waking hour. Then the day came when we faced her army, a thousand warriors strong, with countless dragons under her power in the air. By the end, we were defeated, our entire force destroyed."
She watched as Baelin tensed, could tell by the way he clenched his fist that he was remembering holding his sword, reliving the battle.
"That day, I held Amdarch the Black in my arms as he breathed his last."
He glanced down at his hands, uncurling stiff fingers until the palms lay open. What did he see as he looked at them? Was it his sword, his only defense against the dragons? Or was it the blood of the man he loved like a father, slipping through his fingers as his life ebbed away?
"To this day, I can still smell the stench of charred flesh and boiled blood as it poured in rivers from the lifeless bodies of the men around me. I can still hear the screams of agony from those who had yet to embrace the blessed relief of death. I can still feel the bloody battlefield beneath my feet as I stood surrounded by those dying men, awaiting my own."
Jill shivered, held spellbound like a child listening to ghost stories around the campfire. But she had to remind herself this was no made-up tale meant to frighten small children. It was something he'd lived through. It was what made him who—or rather, what—he was.
"But you didn't die."
"Would that I had. Instead, the warriors captured me and took me before their queen, as a spoil of battle."
"A spoil of battle?"
"A token of their victory. A prize. And once inside her realm, instead of allowing me to die with honor, the Dark Witch offered to spare my life if I would serve her."
"Serve her? How?"
"Since I had managed to defeat so many of her dragons, she wanted me to fight for her, to use my sword in battle against my own people." His nostrils flared and his jaws clenched as he ground his back teeth. "And when I was not fighting, she wanted to use me…for other things."
Jill sucked in a breath. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. Baelin was a handsome man now. She could only imagine what a golden boy he must have been in his youth and what other things the witch might want from him.
"What did you do?"
"I refused. But she kept me there, deep in her mountain kingdom. Day and night, she tried to break me to her will until all I longed for was death. But she would not grant me that small mercy and I would not beg for it. Finally, she took the choice away from me. She turned me into the very creature I had hunted. I have been this way ever since."
"But you were human. How could she turn you into a dragon?"
"With her dark magic, she tore
"I was knighted for slaying a dragon. It was the first of many."
His body tensed and she knew his tale was not over. The worst was yet to come.
"From that day on, we knew how to fight them. How to kill them. The Black and I dedicated our honor, our very lives, to destroying the beasts. Others soon joined us in our fight to rid the land of this winged plague. We called ourselves dragonslayers.
Baelin looked away, shielding his own dragon eyes from her.
"We learned that for centuries upon centuries, the creatures had lived peacefully high in the mountains, only venturing out of their dens to feed. The loss of a cow here or a few sheep there generally went unnoticed. But then the Dark Witch discovered a way to control them, to harness their power, and she began to use them against mortal man."
"So, this Dark Witch, she's not human?"
"Nay. She looks human enough, but she is not. As far as anyone knows, she has existed as long as the dragons have."
He shifted where he sat, but still refused to look at her as he continued his tale. "Our battle was no longer against the dragons alone, but with the Dark Witch as she used them against us. Three years passed. Three long years of hunting these creatures with every waking hour. Then the day came when we faced her army, a thousand warriors strong, with countless dragons under her power in the air. By the end, we were defeated, our entire force destroyed."
She watched as Baelin tensed, could tell by the way he clenched his fist that he was remembering holding his sword, reliving the battle.
"That day, I held Amdarch the Black in my arms as he breathed his last."
He glanced down at his hands, uncurling stiff fingers until the palms lay open. What did he see as he looked at them? Was it his sword, his only defense against the dragons? Or was it the blood of the man he loved like a father, slipping through his fingers as his life ebbed away?
"To this day, I can still smell the stench of charred flesh and boiled blood as it poured in rivers from the lifeless bodies of the men around me. I can still hear the screams of agony from those who had yet to embrace the blessed relief of death. I can still feel the bloody battlefield beneath my feet as I stood surrounded by those dying men, awaiting my own."
Jill shivered, held spellbound like a child listening to ghost stories around the campfire. But she had to remind herself this was no made-up tale meant to frighten small children. It was something he'd lived through. It was what made him who—or rather, what—he was.
"But you didn't die."
"Would that I had. Instead, the warriors captured me and took me before their queen, as a spoil of battle."
"A spoil of battle?"
"A token of their victory. A prize. And once inside her realm, instead of allowing me to die with honor, the Dark Witch offered to spare my life if I would serve her."
"Serve her? How?"
"Since I had managed to defeat so many of her dragons, she wanted me to fight for her, to use my sword in battle against my own people." His nostrils flared and his jaws clenched as he ground his back teeth. "And when I was not fighting, she wanted to use me…for other things."
Jill sucked in a breath. She didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what he meant. Baelin was a handsome man now. She could only imagine what a golden boy he must have been in his youth and what other things the witch might want from him.
"What did you do?"
"I refused. But she kept me there, deep in her mountain kingdom. Day and night, she tried to break me to her will until all I longed for was death. But she would not grant me that small mercy and I would not beg for it. Finally, she took the choice away from me. She turned me into the very creature I had hunted. I have been this way ever since."
"But you were human. How could she turn you into a dragon?"
"With her dark magic, she tore
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