Dragons IX: The Legend of Zendar

Refrain

I saw another victim today.

Kaito led me to her; his usually stoic demeanor radiating an uneasiness that I found intriguing. It wasn’t until I saw her that I understood the reason for his behavior. “Master,” he said as he stepped aside to make room for me to approach the bed. A little girl lay amongst the sheets, probably in her fifth or sixth winter as far as I could tell and a halfbreed. Looking at her long purple hair and pale skin, I figured whose child she was. Yet it was always best to confirm an excellent deduction.

“Who is she?”

“Io,” Kaito answered. “The guards found her passed out by the gates. She is of Circe’s brood.”

I tilted the child’s head back to its previous position. A sprawling, intricately made tattoo covered the entire right side of her face; the shape and design of which was answer enough, had Kaito not chosen to answer my question. “So I see,” I said, as I observed the tremors that wracked her small, slight frame. Her eyes had been a different color once, but now shone with a milky white luminescence. The long sleeved blue dress she wore hid much of her skin from view, but still it was easy to spot the delicate tracery of black vein-like structures on the flesh of her neck and fingers. Inwardly, as I saw the signs of the sickness, I knew then that like the others before her, there was no hope for the child.

The da’kiel had claimed her.

“Is Circe aware of this?” I asked.

“Hai, master. She wishes that news of the incident be not made public.”

I sighed and turned away from Io. “Then you’ll personally go and inform her of the untimely passing of her daughter. When you return, have Cadmon and Lyle bring the body to my lab. The private one.”

For a moment Kaito said nothing, and I was about to reprimand him when I caught a glimpse of something that did not belong to him. Some would call it a look of indignation. Others would call it loathing or disgust. I had no name for the foreign expression that showed on my mortal servant’s visage.

Finally he bowed, and he looked as blank and expressionless as a mirror. “As you say, master. I’ll ask Lumia to ready the dissection tools.”

“See that you do.”  I glanced over at the little girl. There was something oddly familiar about her fine, delicate features that could not be explained by mere family resemblance. “Do I…know her from somewhere?”

“Of course, master.” Here a shadow of that inexplicable emotion crept into his voice. “She was your son’s closest companion.”

-Hashmal, Fifth Dragon

Extract from his journals