"Ma! I'm going out on a hunt!" Aramis called out, strapping his sword to his waist. When nobody responded, he sighed, picked up his quiver and bow, and made his way into the forest.

Today, like all the other days, his feelings of self-pity and loneliness were only lessened when he breathed in the forest's fresh air, sighted the lovely birds, and played with the woodland creatures. After all, no human wanted to be seen with the chieftain's murderer son.

His morbid thoughts were interrupted by the zing of metal cutting through the air. This unusual sound stopped him in his tracks, and he crept toward the warrior, silently drawing his own sword in the process.

The sword's speed intensified, and even from this distance, Aramis could make out that the warrior was highly skilled. He gripped his sword tighter and stopped behind an outcrop of bushes, peering through the spaces between the leaves.

A bright, sunny clearing paved with grass met his eyes. A gentle breeze blew through the air and sent ripples across the green blades. Beyond the meadow, the pearly ocean crashed against the shore and created a melodic tune.

This sight would have been pleasant to see, if not for the young girl practicing her swordswomanship with obvious bloodlust. The deadliness of her blades were at stark contrast with her lovely young face. In fact... he was too far away to tell for sure, but her doe eyes and rosy cheeks looked quite similar to his. A chill went down his spine as he realized that she looked a lot like how his sister would have looked if she'd survived.

An ominous feeling crept up his throat, and he slowly began backing away from the haunting girl. He almost made it to the comforts of the forest when the girl suddenly stilled her movements and turned towards him. Her rosebud lips curled in a frightening smile, and she curled her finger in his direction, beckoning to him.

He gulped and considered running away from there, but an invisible force pushed him into the clearing, and he stumbled to a stop before her.

Now that he could see her up close, he knew for sure that this was his sister, though its implications scared the soul out of him.

He curled his toes as her cool eyes settled on his. "You've come at last." she spoke, and all he could think of was how her lilting voice was like a siren's; beautiful and haunting as it drew you to your death.

"I've always wondered how my first interaction with my brother would go." she said, tilting her head to one side. "Would you be happy to see me? Relieved that I'm alive? Eager to take me home?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but she beat him to it with an amused chuckle. "Then I realized, 'Of course he wouldn't be pleased to see me. After all, he's the one who tried to kill me.'"

Aramis' head spun and he felt the world tilt around him, making everything move with a dizzying speed.

"I... I wasn't trying to... I was just..." he stammered, the words barely forming due to his constricting lungs.

"You weren't trying to kill me? But brother dear, when someone throws an infant into the sea, they generally mean to kill the babe."

"No," Aramis mumbled, shaking his head back and forth. "No, no, no, no. This isn't possible. This isn't..."

"I've always wondered why you did it," she continued calmly, as though she was having a conversation about the weather. "Why would anybody kill his own baby sister? What made you hate me so much that you decided to get rid of me?"

"How?" Aramis said, oblivious to her words. "You couldn't have survived the fall. You couldn't have survived the ocean. How are you alive?"

"I'm losing patience, brother." she said, unsheathing a dagger and spinning it in her hand. "You'd better reply soon, or I might lose control."

"How?" Aramis cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. From the corner of his eye, he barely registered his sister clenching his tunic in her fist and pressing the cold tip of her dagger to his throat.

"Why?" she hissed, drawing a bead of blood. "Why did you try to kill me?"

He stared into her warm brown eyes, and felt the answer rise to his lips as if it had its own will.

"Because your birth could have meant our doom." he said, breathing heavily. He felt her grip loosen, but continued pushing words past his mouth.

"At the time of your birth, all sorts of ill omens were detected by our people. The astrologer predicted that if you lived, you would cause everyone's deaths. Nobody believed him then, but over the next few days, many bad things happened. Crops failed, people took to mysterious illnesses. But the true warning call for me," he said, voice breaking slightly, "was when my beloved dog died."

She let go of his tunic and stepped back, a haunted expression playing across her face. "So you killed me because your dog died?"

"No," he said again, though he was getting tired of saying that word now. "I tried to warn everyone that you might be our death. But nobody believed me. Then I realized that if I didn't end you, you would end everyone."

And it would have ended with her death, if a young girl hadn't seen him throw his sister into the ocean. She ran back and told everybody about it, and while they had no proof that he was the murderer, nobody in his village trusted him anymore.

He took a rattling breath and pressed his palms over his face to calm himself down, when he saw something unusual. He removed his hands at once, and to his horror, saw that his sister's neck was shining ever so slightly in the sun. He squinted at her neck and stepped close to her, trying to confirm his suspicions.

When she backed away from him nervously, covering the side of her neck with her palm, he knew for sure. Without a word, he drew his dagger and flung it toward her. It paused midair, right before it hit her face, and the air rippled around them as a huge dragon appeared behind her.

Its silvery scales glittered in the bright sunlight, with its massive brown eyes blinking languidly. It was crouching to meet his eye level, and its clawed hand held his dagger.

His sister's face contorted in a sinister smirk. "You're smart, I see," she said, but her voice sounded more sonorous now, as though she were speaking from another realm. "I thought you would be fooled into thinking that your sister is alive."

Aramis' mind raced as he recalled the tales of dragons that were passed down over the years. Tales of them being sent to earth as guardians. Of an epic war, after which they were never allowed to rule. Of dragons taking lives.

"Wh... what have you done to my sister?" he asked, readying himself for a fight. His sister laughed, and he realized with a rising panic that the dragon was speaking through her.

"You don't need to be so accusatory. After all, I'm the one who saved your sister from her watery grave."

"You possessed her," he said, realization dawning in his voice. "That's how she's still alive. It's because your life form is inside her, not her own."

"Hey, it isn't that bad, you know," she said playfully, twirling the ends of her hair. "She isn't totally dead, or I wouldn't have been able to possess her. We just take turns to control her body. Most of the time it's me doing the talking, but sometimes she likes to feel in charge. Till now, you were truly talking to your sister."

"What is her name?" Aramis asked unexpectedly, choosing not to react to the horrifying details that the dragon had given him.

"Oh," she said, looking surprised for once. Her voice turned down a few decibels, and he now knew that he was talking to his sister. "I chose this name for myself, for I never had parents to name me. My name is Zaria."

"Zaria," he said, "It's a really pretty name."

She frowned at the sudden display of affection, and opened her mouth to respond, but shook her head violently and sighed. "Well, that's enough for now," the dragon spoke. "Or else this meeting will go in an entirely different direction."

He narrowed his eyes, but she feigned ignorance and picked at her nails. "Anyways, let's get back to the story. As I was saying, your sister is alive and well and eager to go home. I want you to spin a story to explain her absence, so that everyone will accept her. Think of it as a way to absolve your sin."

"But why now?" Aramis asked. "If she really wanted, she could have come back as soon as she learned to walk. Why would she wait until she's grown up and... and skilled in weaponry..." his voice broke at the end; all the implications rushing to him.

Zaria laughed again and shook her head. "It's not what you think, Aramis. She simply wanted to wait until she was skilled enough, so that she could make her family proud of her."

"Lies," he replied, seeing through the dragon's plan. "You want to take control of my father now and rule over all of us. After the war, dragons were forbidden to rule over humankind. So you're trying to rule through a human. You're trying to rule through my father."

"Is my plan really that obvious?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. "I thought you would at least take her home and live with her, until you realize your mistake."

While a part of him focused on her words, his warrior instincts noticed her sword arm tighten. He readied his own sword at once, and met her strike with ferocity. Her brows drew together, and she swung her sword at him relentlessly, aiming for his vital organs with each strike.

He blocked and parried every attack, knowing that at one point he would have to make the killing cut, for there was no way he could allow her to live. Allow the dragon to live through her.

Even if everyone would loathe him for this, he had to protect them. So he gritted his teeth, steadied his sword, and stabbed her heart.

Zaria collapsed like a rag doll, all the strength leaving her body at once. He rushed to catch her and slowly lowered her to the ground, cradling her body on his lap.

She gave a groan of pain, and he screamed in frustration when he realized that the dragon was speaking.

"Congratulations, Aramis," Zaria chuckled weakly. "You've managed to kill your sister twice. I didn't even know that was possible. Very well then. If not her body, I'll just find a better way to capture your village. But mark my words, this isn't the last you'll see of me."

Her words tethered to a gasp and she coughed up blood, splattering it across his tunic as well. Her grip on his hand grew weak, and before he knew it, she went limp in his arms.

Aramis crouched over his sister and sobbed. Sobbed at the unfair fate that she had been dealt with. Sobbed at the cruel things he'd done to her. Sobbed at the implications of her death. Just... sobbed.

He was rudely interrupted when a few men across the meadow began shouting and screaming. He considered ignoring them when he heard his name being yelled. Hope ignited in his chest, and he eagerly turned toward them, thinking they had spotted the dragon, and would help him vanquish it.

But when he looked around, the dragon was nowhere in sight. With growing dread, he realized that they were pointing at him and screaming for help. His gaze shifted to the dead girl on his lap, and even through the ringing in his ears, he could make out their words.

Murderer, murderer.