~ 4 ~

Edgelord for a Groom

The winds sliced across my face, tickling my wings as it passed through, a coming coldness that meant the ending of the day. Tucking my wings to my sides, I entered a slow dive toward the pillar of rock that stuck out from the mountain. My feet opened like an owl's, crashing and clamping onto the platform, the stone cracking and webs crunching across it.

My talons dug into the object as it the weight of my impact. It held, and the backdrop of green hid me well. I went prone across my perch, scanning the center of the island, the forest that composed it. My gaze then carried to the beach, the ruined church that, while elegant, was missing its roof.

I'd found the wedding.

Alright. You can do this. Scary dragon time. Work out the lines in your head before you say them out loud.

But what if I had the wrong wedding?

Good point.

I was talking to myself again—a product of too many months of having only myself for company. My eyes peered at the open church set within the walls of the castle. Those walls housed a little town as well, denying smugglers from reaching the official ports.

My eyelids narrowed, and my eyes condensed in shape. Magnifying my vision, the rest of the world blurred as my sight zoomed in. The church was looking pretty stacked with people. More than a few were standing tall with staff and staves.

Are weapons even allowed in a church? Crusaders used swing swords about when they were, well, crusading. Does the Father tell them to check their heat at the door? Unlikely. He could always threaten divine punishment for those who don't comply with that request, though—and I'm losing track of what I'm supposed to be doing here!

I smacked the side of my head.

Go away, insanity. After this, we can spend all of tonight wondering about stupid stuff. Now's the time to focus. To be useful. To be—oh, I'm so fucked.

My view passed over the soldiers or guards or whatever the hell the people of the world were calling them. Looking through the missing roof of the church, I saw four wooden tables stretched across the length of the place. It seemed like both families got two tables.

Who the hell are those guys?

This had been the first time I'd even see a wedding coincide with a feast. Plates and glasses filled with food and drinks were set across the tables as everyone ate to their heart's content. The altar was set at the back of the church like it was a stage—like entertainment for the eating guests.

When your special day is nothing more than idle amusement at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

But that hadn't been what caught my attention. That went to the family on the groom's side. They all sat in ebony cloaks that were thick in destiny. Some even wore their hoods. A part of me thought they were vampires. Afraid to take on the pain of excessive vitamin D.

No wonder why she wants to ditch these guys. They seem like creeps. And is that the groom over there? Don't even get me started on him.

The groom stood at the altar with hands folded behind his back. He stood in a power stance with his chin tilted high to the people attempting to enjoy their meal. It seemed like he pleased himself by standing there, being lifted several feet into the air due to the staging. He didn't seem like a tall guy either.

And what about that fucking outfit?

He black shoes with shining silver across them. His pants blazed the same. He wore a black scarf for whatever the reason, black tinged with purple, the latter darkening the further across its length. His hair took inspiration from the night, and so did his eyeliner—self-applied.

At least you have Astria to give you some tips... or, not.

The strands of his hair seemed sharp enough to cut, and the purple of his eyes cast a subtle glow. He arched his back upward and swung on his feet. More and more, he was becoming pleased with himself. The rest of his cultist family, however, were set on being still.

Where did these guys set themselves? That's right! On the other side of the island, beneath and around the inactive volcano. Their village or kingdom or whatever is tucked away in the dark recesses of that. Their magic had managed to stop its production of lava. Or... that old dragon was full of shit.

I then whistled as I took the view into my heart.

Being married off by your hungry-hungry family to an edgelord raised by cultists. Either her family has been starving for the last little while, or they really couldn't give two shits about their princess. In either case, giving her away solves both problems.

That alleviated some of my doubt about doing this. Sure. I was still kidnapping a princess from her family and, depending on how things went, leaving things screwed between the two houses. But once she was married, and the kiss was sealed, the families were joined on paper—and the death of their daughter would be mutual.

It now made more sense why I had to be the villain in all this. Why it was necessary for me to play my part well. How was I to pull this off? Just fly over and pluck her like an owl would a mouse? It was too easy. Too... anticlimactic.

They wouldn't go for that.

For this plan to work, I needed to instil hatred and the desire for revenge, a cause for both families to work together to hunt us down. That would bond them. Open up all routes and the possibility for trade. I needed to hurt both sides. Make them both feel like that had an agenda with me.

So... how would I do it?

Fear me, mortals, for I am Wabbahamoo! Stalker of the Jungle, drinker of a river, sometimes eater of cattle.

No.

That wouldn't work.

Could I blow fire onto the church?

If your goal is to burn everyone alive, yeah.

Destroy the church?

Only to make an impromptu funeral home.

Give an evil monologue?

So you can be boring instead of scary?

Not helping!

Talking to yourself again.

Gah!

Something blue glowed right in front of me. I recoiled from the light... but recognized the cool, comforting feeling it had cast. It wasn't often that magic appeared suddenly in front of her. With a swallow, I reached a claw forward, taking the light inside my hand.

The beams flashed through the spaces between my talons before extinguishing. Turning my fist over, I opened it, seeing a parchment written. I leaned my eyes in close, enhancing my vision. It'd been a letter.

"Dear Mister Dragon,

I'm taking a chance here in assuming that you can read—or else this letter will have been a great waste of time. I know we've already talked our plan through but, with you, I have a feeling that details can easily be mixed. So for your convenience, and my greater probability at life, here is roughly the plan again.

Do not speak. Do not fly into the church spouting something you think will terrorize others. As either a compliment or an insult to yourself, you will not. Our greatest fear is the fear of the unknown. The implied. Fly into the church and roar. Once the crowd has risen, flare fire into the air. That should be enough to create fear and to get people moving.

Do not make a move until I'm brought out onto the altar. It's only then that I'll be far away from everyone for you to snatch me. Remember what we practised. If you feel me go squish—then you were holding me too tightly. My blood will be, quite literally, on your claws.

Beware the groom—or his family for that matter. They're dangerous, and they're powerful. Do not linger once you appear. You might be strong... but they have magical tricks beyond our expectations.

And please.

Don't hurt anyone.

Awaiting your kidnapping,

~ Your Princess, Astria Laleen."

I stared at the letter in my palm, the first that had been written to me, not including the Death to Dragons and other such lovely notes left for yours truly. Part of me wanted to keep it, somehow. To hold onto it. There wasn't much point in doing so. But dragons were greedy creatures. And if I wanted a scroll to be in my useless hoard—then I wouldn't care what anyone else had to say about it.

Turning to the mountain behind me, I dug a hole into the first there, depositing the scroll inside and refilling the patch. With that taken care of, I turned back to the church, my wings flaring on their own. I felt something at that moment. Like a someone about to do something.

So high from the ground, so great in size as I expanded, feeling something... I'd never felt before. Was this perhaps part of Astria's manipulation? Or was this just me coming into myself? In either case, it didn't matter at this moment.

For I was ready to become a flying, bad dragon.

...

God damn it.

I'm never going to get that imagery out now.

With a sigh, I took flight, beginning my approach.