Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away // Where innocence is burned, in flames
Title: Blessings
Rating: PG-13
Bubbles smells the smoke first. His wings fan out in agitation, a shudder running under his scales that even Garrett sees. The man scowls, picking up his pace and sidling in behind Chuck, who rolls her eyes.
“He's just stretching, Princess,” the older woman says, shoving her hand hard against the man's back and sending him stumbling a few steps.
“No he isn't. I've seen him do that before. Right before he lunges and attempts to bite m-”
“Fire,” Shelby says softly as she leans over the small dragon, hand on his head, enjoying the feel of his scales scratching against her palm as he nuzzles into it. The other two still, watching her with careful confusion.
Garrett sniffs. “Well, yes, fire. He does that often enough.”
This time, it's Chuck's fist that hits him, and he hisses as he turns to glare at her. “She means there's been a fire, idiot. Look.” She turns and points in the distance where gray tendrils are swirling into the sky, thick and ominous against the beautiful backdrop. “Bubbles doesn't like it.”
He pauses, sniffing indignantly again before he finally says something. “It's too much smoke to be a campfire.”
“Yeah,” Chuck agrees, hands on her hips as she peers through the trees.
Shelby's eyes stay trained on the pattern in the sky, eyebrows knitting together. “I think the fire has long since been out. The smoke is... Quiet. Just sort of laying there.” Her head tilts. “There's supposed to be a village over there, according to the map.”
There's another silence, interrupted on when Bubbles growls. Finally, a look flashes over Chuck's face, and Shelby knows what she's going to say before she even says it, and even Garrett doesn't look faintly surprised when she declares that they need to go there, to see what happened, to help whoever lived. They give no protest as they follow after her.
It's a village no longer. Bubbles sifts through the outer edges of where a few small houses used to be, only smoldering beams left among the ash and rubble and scorched bones. Chuck's hands flutter to her mouth, and it's one of the few moments that she looks like a delicate woman, horrified by what they find themselves surrounded by. Garrett steps up behind her, face blank as he rubs his hand in small circles on her back.
But Shelby doesn't feel a thing. She kneels, her fingers brushing over the charred corpse of a young child. The bones are smooth, despite the fire. Finally, she finds what she is looking for, the fine cracks in the back of the skull. They were killed first rather than burned alive. It's a comfort at least.
“All these lives,” Chuck whispers, leaning against Garrett without realizing it.
Shelby remains quiet. They don't know death like she does. They have killed, but in defense. The innocent are not slaughtered. They've never gotten satisfaction from the look of death, the feel of warm blood soaking the skin, the instant poison takes hold of a body. Her fingers trace the crack. To them, this is an unjust tragedy; to her, it is a blessing in disguise.
“They didn't suffer for long,” she finally manages to say, drawing to pairs of eyes. “They weren't burned to death.”
“It doesn't make it better, Shelby,” Garrett sighs, and she smiles faintly.
“Think of how their lives would have been. Starvation, slavery, torture, prostitution.” Shelby clasps her hands together, glancing up at them. She can see it in their faces, in their eyes, that this isn't something they can understand. That she's wrong for not being angry and wishing they could have saved their lives, that they could bring these children back to life. It bothers her, a twinge of loneliness that burns slowly.
Shelby bows her head and prays to the Silent One for their souls.
Chuck kneels next to her almost immediately, Garrett following shortly afterward.
Rating: PG-13
Bubbles smells the smoke first. His wings fan out in agitation, a shudder running under his scales that even Garrett sees. The man scowls, picking up his pace and sidling in behind Chuck, who rolls her eyes.
“He's just stretching, Princess,” the older woman says, shoving her hand hard against the man's back and sending him stumbling a few steps.
“No he isn't. I've seen him do that before. Right before he lunges and attempts to bite m-”
“Fire,” Shelby says softly as she leans over the small dragon, hand on his head, enjoying the feel of his scales scratching against her palm as he nuzzles into it. The other two still, watching her with careful confusion.
Garrett sniffs. “Well, yes, fire. He does that often enough.”
This time, it's Chuck's fist that hits him, and he hisses as he turns to glare at her. “She means there's been a fire, idiot. Look.” She turns and points in the distance where gray tendrils are swirling into the sky, thick and ominous against the beautiful backdrop. “Bubbles doesn't like it.”
He pauses, sniffing indignantly again before he finally says something. “It's too much smoke to be a campfire.”
“Yeah,” Chuck agrees, hands on her hips as she peers through the trees.
Shelby's eyes stay trained on the pattern in the sky, eyebrows knitting together. “I think the fire has long since been out. The smoke is... Quiet. Just sort of laying there.” Her head tilts. “There's supposed to be a village over there, according to the map.”
There's another silence, interrupted on when Bubbles growls. Finally, a look flashes over Chuck's face, and Shelby knows what she's going to say before she even says it, and even Garrett doesn't look faintly surprised when she declares that they need to go there, to see what happened, to help whoever lived. They give no protest as they follow after her.
It's a village no longer. Bubbles sifts through the outer edges of where a few small houses used to be, only smoldering beams left among the ash and rubble and scorched bones. Chuck's hands flutter to her mouth, and it's one of the few moments that she looks like a delicate woman, horrified by what they find themselves surrounded by. Garrett steps up behind her, face blank as he rubs his hand in small circles on her back.
But Shelby doesn't feel a thing. She kneels, her fingers brushing over the charred corpse of a young child. The bones are smooth, despite the fire. Finally, she finds what she is looking for, the fine cracks in the back of the skull. They were killed first rather than burned alive. It's a comfort at least.
“All these lives,” Chuck whispers, leaning against Garrett without realizing it.
Shelby remains quiet. They don't know death like she does. They have killed, but in defense. The innocent are not slaughtered. They've never gotten satisfaction from the look of death, the feel of warm blood soaking the skin, the instant poison takes hold of a body. Her fingers trace the crack. To them, this is an unjust tragedy; to her, it is a blessing in disguise.
“They didn't suffer for long,” she finally manages to say, drawing to pairs of eyes. “They weren't burned to death.”
“It doesn't make it better, Shelby,” Garrett sighs, and she smiles faintly.
“Think of how their lives would have been. Starvation, slavery, torture, prostitution.” Shelby clasps her hands together, glancing up at them. She can see it in their faces, in their eyes, that this isn't something they can understand. That she's wrong for not being angry and wishing they could have saved their lives, that they could bring these children back to life. It bothers her, a twinge of loneliness that burns slowly.
Shelby bows her head and prays to the Silent One for their souls.
Chuck kneels next to her almost immediately, Garrett following shortly afterward.