New voices, new flash-length fantasy.
Meddle Not In the Affairs of Dragons
By Linda M. Crate
Syn stood furiously at the grave of her beloved friend Chiamaka. Maka was gone. Nothing would bring her back and it made her so livid that she would even think of forgiving that treacherous badger let alone marry him! She had not gone to the wedding as she should have for simply that reason. Syn hated Matthius. He had nearly gotten them killed with the help of an evil dragon. Though, he had asked for their forgiveness he had only got the forgiveness of one: Maka.
She clenched her fist. "How could you forgive that good for nothing no-account lowli—."
"Excuse me, good for nothing no-account lowlife, coming through."
"What are you doing here?" Syn spat, a little more viciously than she intended.
Matthius stiffened. Despite his intimidation by the dragon, the badger would not back away. "Well, we have as much as right as you to be here as you do. More so, I'd say, given we are her flesh and blood."
"No, the children are. You are just a traitor."
"I said I was sorry, Syn."
"Sometimes, Matthius, sorry isn't good enough, you lying hypocritical piece of—." The livid redhead turned her attention away from her quarry to find a blonde haired little girl with Maka's eyes looking up at her, pulling on her dress.
"Your dress is pwetty," she giggled.
"You're so cute," Syn smiled.
Matthius puffed up like a peacock. "She gets that from me."
The faerie regarded the shape-shifting sorcerer in disdain. She punched him with all her strength in the groin. "She gets it from Maka."
"Ow, woman, I wasn't intending on having any more children."
"Good, let that be a reminder of what is to come should you attempt to dishonor my best friend's name so."
"Some best friend you are, you didn't even show up to her wedding."
"Because you were there!"
"Do you really hate me that much?" Matthius frowned. "I apologized."
Syn glared, her black eyes flashing. "You still don't get it. You could apologize until the triple moons were blue, it wouldn't matter. No amount of sorries could take away the fact that you could have killed us, Matthias."
Morgan could sense the fury of his pregnant wife and winced. She had never liked Matthias, she had always been temperamental, and she had always thought traitors deserved death. This was probably made a thousand times worse due to her hormones, at the moment. "Hey, hey, we're not making anyone dinner tonight, okay?"
"I wouldn't eat him if he were the last animal left on earth."
"Syn, be nice. Remember what the healer said. Stress and anger are both bad for you and the babies, no?"
"He's a scullywag!"
"Syn?"
"Fine," she glared.
"You really should forgive him."
"You, too?" Syn whined, looking at him with pathetic eyes.
Morgan almost melted, but knew he had to hold his resolve. "Yes, even me. It's not to hurt you, Syn, but if you don't forgive him, it will destroy you, too. Do you really want that? I don't want that. Your mother couldn't let go, either, and look what happened to her. I don't want you to turn on me or the children like that."
"How could you ever imply? Don't you love me?"
"I really don't think your mother decided one day she would be a crazy, nasty witch from hell that was going to kill everyone. Even the good witch Finnigan insisted that she had been good once, Syn."
Syn blushed, as there was too much truth in this to ignore, and she began to realize her grudge against Matthias was petty. "I forgive you," the dragon remarked. "Please forgive me my foolishness. I cannot believe the worlds I am about to speak, but my husband was right. I will not let this destroy me, but I cannot emphasize enough that I will not trust you. At least, not right away. You will have to prove that you're more than a traitor and I still rather dislike you."
"Well, it's a start," Matthias smiled. He took his children gingerly into his arms and walked away.
Syn shrugged, tossing her scarlet hair to the side. She wound a hand into Morgan's raven locks without warning.
"Syn?" Morgan asked.
"Although your intentions were good, your approach was evil, you must be punished."
"Oh?"
"Not that way, Merlin, I'm not your father, pervert." She pushed him away. "But don't worry, I have plenty of ideas on how I can torture you," she smirked.
"You almost sound as if you may enjoy that," he winced.
Syn snorted. "Well, my love, you know what they say? Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons," she grinned, mischief dancing in her eyes. "You would do well to remember that, and while I do love you...I always have, you will pay for that. That is all." She blew him a kiss before disappearing over a grassy hill, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
"Women are crazy," Morgan muttered, "and they blame it on men." He snorted, deciding that whatever his wife was going to punish him with couldn't be that bad. Especially since she had warned him.
- - -
Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. She currently resides in Meadville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. Recently her two chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013) and Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014) were published. Her fantasy novel Amethyst Epiphany is forthcoming from Assent Publishing.
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