Dragon Core

by Sain Artwell

  Someone shouted a warning.

  Then the cascade of explosions shattered every display case and everything else within the reliquary. A blast of air and ricocheting shrapnel blew into the lobby. Alron inspected the destruction.

  A dark blue scaled woman hurtled at him from the darkness. Alron noted the distinct lack of an icy weapon in her grip, when she attempted to decapitate him with one of her tails.

  “Despicable!” Her face was a bestial snarl of wrath. “You truly have nothing but a dragon left in your heart, to so freely slaughter whomever happens on your path.”

  Fei, go look for the vestige with Sofi. I’ll hold her down. Alron struck Dente with the butt of his glaive, sending her to crash through a thick marble pillar and dent the wall behind it. Blue blood trickled down from wounds, some of which were rapidly knitting shut. Others still had startsteel-laced fragments jutting from them, and bled profusely.

  Don’t toy with her, Alron. Fei slipped into the darkened reliquary.

  I’d never show her such disrespect. Oh, and Fei, be sure to incapacitate her companions.

  Oh, I’ll lull them asleep all gentle-like!

  Dente picked up a blackmetal sword of a dead redcloak, and dragonized it. The handle morphed around her fingers, and frost crept up the blade. She dashed over a blood slicked floor, and crashed against Alron with unyielding ferocity. Their footwork cracked the marble, and weapons struck sparks.

  However, her might, though great, was leagues short of when she’d swung her blade with the edge of surprise on her side. Though the Seven Forms of Myrwing were etched deep into her muscles, she now battled with a sense of rush.

  “Don’t be so smug,” she spat. “You’d be dead if not for the explosions.”

  “I admit, their use does not carry the same satisfaction of assured supremacy as victory by the claw. But, you must understand, I am waging a war. When Sorcerer King is dead, I shall welcome your blade in a fair duel.”

  “Why don’t you kill yourself? Why ruin the world?”

  Alron frowned, pressing his reach advantage to force Dente into a corner. “You’ve been fed lies by the Sorcerer King, my daughter…”

  “Don’t you dare call me yours!” She threw up an avalanche of freezing soulfire.

  Alron turned himself and his weapon into a Living Flame. The two soulfires crackled into a violent explosion, which slid past Alron’s flames harmlessly. He resumed a corporeal form, and leapt at the recovering Dente, laying several strategic cuts on her tendons before she managed to put up a solid defense.

  “I did what Ascendancy asked of me. I saw what they did to my lovers and daughter. Now I shall judge them in turn.”

  “You’re insane…”

  “I doubt you would sympathise, but listen. This path you tread is that of a gullible tool, and I am where it ends. You must have dreams beyond this duty, dreams of a life with your lovers. Unless you wish for those dreams to wither as unfulfilled fantasies, abandon the chains of your false duty, and embrace those three loyal souls bound to you. Once the Ascendancy is gone, you can rebuild.”

  “Don’t speak to me as if you know me!” Her swings were growing impulsive.

  Alron struck the blade from her hand, and struck her chest. Capitalizing on her emptied lungs, Alron bathed the room in his soulfire. The vis burning flames coated the corpses and clung to Dente’s wounds. She did not let any of the pain show.

  “I do not know you. No. But, we are both broken dragongods. That wholeness of sharing your bonds’ thoughts and emotions is a precious gift few will ever experience. Trust me when I say that you should cherish it. Do not force me to teach you what fills its place when those bonds are broken,” said Alron.

  Wheezing, Dente stood. Rubble was dragonizing and de-dragonizing around her. Pieces of her armor transformed from scales to clothes and back. “Words of a coward. No wonder you betrayed the Ascendancy.”

  Alron drove the tip of his glaive through her guts, pinning Dente to the wall. Alron steeled himself for her cries of agony. Unfortunately he had to inflict more, lest she regenerate and ruin his plans.

  He dragonized several swords and warpicks from the fallen redcloaks and sentinels, which he struck through her body, dragonized the stone beneath her, and bathed her in vis-devouring flames, until she could defy him no longer.

  “Words alone are useless. Watch and decide whether my retribution is cowardly or not. Watch the nature of the Ascendancy be revealed, and decide whether I am insane, or the sole soul who’s had enough and decided to open his eyes.”

  With her damaged throat, Dente could not muster a reply.

  Alron left her bleeding on the floor and joined Fei. Whilst battling Dente, he had received a thought from her.

  Ice boy was a little troublesome, but they’ll all be gasping for breath for a good while now. You’d best come and see this… That Mlev, stars take her, she’s found the perfect vessel.

  Alron arrived at a scene of shattered containers, of faintly flickering dragonlight lamps, and of Sofi breaking through a vault door with her hot glowing claw. Blackmetal dribbled down in thick brown droplets before her touch. Beads of sweat ran down her brow as she sunk her claws into metal.

  “That should be the last lock-pin…” Sofi drew her hand out.

  The vault door slid open without resistance. Glass bottles and twirling tubes filled the room within up to the ceiling. A bubbling wisp of red metallic liquid snaked through the sculpture, pausing in some compartments and breezing through others. However, it was not Mlevanosk’s morphcore, which held Alron in silent awe.

  “Wait! Don’t touch it,” Sofi cried in alarm. “I remember this one… It’s one of Mlevanosk’s early designs for a thousand flask vis-harmonizer. It can replenish the vis of an aging dragon-core, lengthening one’s lifespan. Mlevanosk tricked them into believing that was its only function. In truth, it causes one’s vis—she likened them to flavors—a flavor of vis to change so that it becomes malleable and easier to use in what she called ‘the vestifigation’. It… Stars…” Her eyes moved quickly around the shape, then flicked from Fei to Alron. “She predicted everything.”

  “Sofi, take a look at your arms,” said Alron.

  “Hm?” She did, and blinked. “When did this…”

  Dark glistening scales coated her up to the shoulder, on both arms. And, on both arms, her nails had thickened into deep crimson claws.

  “Just now, dearie.”

  “Your head, Sofi,” said Alron.

  “What about my head?” Sofi patted her charcoal bob-cut with both hands. Her fingers curled around two horns as long as palms standing upright from her hairline. “Huh… Why is the world wobbling?”

  “She lectures this and that and nonsense of vis, and now forgets how dragonmarks grow.” Fei sneered, but caught the stumbling Sofi.

  Sofi continued to slump in Fei’s arms, overcome by sudden weakness. “Please be understanding. The first horn didn’t grow like this. I know why. That’s because… Stars. How did I master a vestige?”

  “Mastering a vestige in a day should be impossible,” said Alron.

  Power of the dragons was not for the submissive and meek to claim. Mastering vestiges required constant vigilance of the mind, a strong will, an overwhelming desire to dominate the power of the vestige. Though Sofi was brave and strong-willed, she was blatantly lacking in the last and most important quality: Desire to dominate. So much so that it should’ve been impossible for her to ever master any vestiges. Even Alron spent a decade until his two heartstrings submitted, and created a dragonsoul harmonious enough to materialize a dragon-core.

  “Shouldn’t this much be expected?” asked Fei. “If Mlevanosk did something to make their vis match yours, the vestige might believe your body is hers.”

  “That must be it. But Stars…” Sofi gawked at her claws heating, brightening through shades of dark scarlet towards smoldering orange. “So this is what it’s like having a vestige that listens to you. I could’ve welded so much faster with th
ese claws. Incredible.” She suppressed the heat in her claws and touched the glass structure again. “But not half as unbelievable as this device.”

  “On with it then, we don’t have all day to praise Mlev.” Fei gestured for her to make haste.

  Sofi regained her own legs. “Yes. Apologies. This device, if I’m understanding Mlevanosk’s memories correctly, creates new vestiges the way the dragongods do. Alron, I think she meant you to find this, though she didn’t mention this to me.”

  “Hm.” Alron took in the device with new-found appreciation. A vestige maker. Scarcely could he believe such a thing to exist, but Mlevanosk’s designs rarely paid heed to known limits of the world.

  “Can you make use of it. Here? Now?” He turned to Sofi.

  She licked her lip, weighing variables beyond his knowledge, her gaze focusing on the device.

  How long do we have?” Sofi asked.

  Alron held his breath, closed his eyes, and listened. Heavy metal footsteps filled the hallways leading up to the chancellor’s chamber from every direction. Alron timed the sounds with his heartbeat and measured the distance. They were a hundred-fifty-three flickers before the Ministry’s security filled the room with cannon- and dragonfire. “Hundred-fifty flickers.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Sofi rushed to drag her claws over a series of odd glass instruments. The entire sculpture vibrated with high-pitch resonance, which caused the morphcore within to vibrate and hum.

  “It’s ready in twenty. We can use it once, maybe. I can’t guarantee what the side-effects may be, since Mlevanosk never got to test it, but in theory it should be no different from vestige implantation, except this one will be yours from the start, without a hint of a draconic will.”

  “You aren’t certain?” Fei asked.

  A small smile tugged at Alron’s lips. Mlevanosk had more than found the perfect vessel. She’d found the perfect apprentice. Alron placed a hand on Sofi’s shoulder, and said, “Well done, Sofi. Fei, get inside.”

  “Me?! It should be you…” …Alron! You can’t enslave new vestiges outside of bonding.

  And you can’t enslave new ones at all.

  That’s not the point, this may be the only chance for you to—

  Alron cut her thought off. But that is the point. Your vestiges are my vestiges. Your strength increases mine, thus ours grows two-fold. Also, I can carry you if side-effects emerge.

  Fei’s lips pursed together in consternation. She didn’t hesitate, however, and walked into an encircled space in the middle of the loudly humming vis-forge. Mlevanosk’s morphcore had turned into a blur, and flew so fast through the device that all thousand flasks were glowing with its scarlet hue.

  “And now?” Fei looked to Sofi.

  Sofi stared at the vibrating glass devices before her, manipulating them with intense focus. “Let the vis gather naturally. Whatever happens, keep your flames down, and don’t burn it.”

  The gaze of an oracle swept over Alron and lingered to witness a peculiar scene. Between becoming a broken dragongod and battling a true one, Alron had witnessed many miracles. This, though, this was his first glimpse behind the curtain of what this world’s wonders had come to be.

  Blood from the corpses of slain redcloaks, the defeated heralds of their daughter, and the various broken urns of the reliquary flowed across the floor and walls, flowing towards the vis-forge. Air too moved, shifting towards the whirring machine, and as it moved, something indescribable coalesced into the air for briefest flickers. Teensy sparks.

  Those sparks held every color, and none, each a unique tapestry of iridescent patterns. They held a shade so bright and vibrant that when they manifested, the world itself seemed to lose its colors and shadows and light, mellowing to a seemingly meaningless gray. Then, when several sparks passed through Alron’s body, he realized he’d felt their presence before.

  Wealdborn had touched them when forging his dragongod body, and when designing carrionspawn to throw unto Alron and Ascendancy’s forces. These fleeting sparks were not vis at all, but something else, something even more primal. An essence for which the dragonsoul hungered. No. Not merely the dragonsoul. This was the food of dragongods.

  It all coalesced on Fei. Unspeakable vibrance left reality as a pale ghost of what it was. Fei struggled to stand as unseen forces blew through her. That nameless essence focused into the tiniest droplet inside Fei’s chest, blinking with shades barely recognizable to Alron’s eyes before fading.

  In an instant, the world returned to normal, and, with a thwap, a silver bullet tore through Fei’s chest.

  Slumped against a pillar, grinning with a bloody smile, and with her guts spilling out, Katjan blew the smoke off of a hand cannon’s barrel. “Sharpshooter’s rule number one: Patience.”

  Chapter 17 - Avatar of the Metal Dawn

  A fiery surge of fury flooded Alron’s brain. He threw the dragonized glaive at Karjan’s skull with full strength. The flash of scarlet flew straight and right through the pillar, and into the blackmetal reinforced wall behind it. Alron had barely managed to restrain his impulse, tipping the shaft the moment it left his grip to pivot the blade towards the girl’s horn. Katjan lived, for now.

  He dashed to Fei to catch her mid-fall.

  The shock-wave of his sudden movement shattered the thousand glass flasks into a hundred thousand fragments. Alron raised his wings as a shield and stared in horror at the bullet hole which had replaced Fei’s heart. In the middle of the hole hovered that spark of mysterious essence. Soulfire blazed in her wide-open eyes as she gasped for air, whilst bleeding to death.

  Alron I thought… I forgot to… blind the oracle.

  “Become flames, my vis will sustain you,” he commanded.

  It won’t heal me. I’ll drain your vis too fast. Rasdrev is coming… Save your strength. Save Mlevanosk.

  “Drain what you need. My vis is plentiful. Become flames.” This time, Alron forced the command through their bond, and turned Fei into fire himself.

  With a deep inhale, he drew Fei into his lungs. Though he despised exercising that authority, he was not about to lose Fei due to her own panic. Alron could feel how her soulfire began to gnaw on him from the inside, slowly draining his vis. Less than ideal, but it was manageable. One way, or another, he would defeat Rasdrev and all the irredeemable wastes of breath deserving death and worse.

  Alron, stop! Spit me out!

  Fret not for me. I finished Carrion Scourge without you and with handicaps far worse than this. Focus on the spark Mlevanosk gave you. Make something of it, and perhaps you’ll find a way to give me an edge, Alron thought to Fei.

  In truth, losing Fei was a massive disadvantage. If Dente recovered to full strength, Alron was uncertain he could win. Unfortunately, he could not stop time.

  Fei grumbled, but ultimately conceded to his demand. But if you’re about to lose, I will eject myself.

  You will try. Though Alron wished it wouldn’t come to that.

  “Alron! They’re here!” Sofi ducked into cover behind his wings, with Mlevanosk’s jelly-like morphcore in her arms.

  Footsteps of reinforcements halted in the chancellor’s office. Metal screeched against metal and dragonfire swelled the firing chambers, the prelude to a hail of bullets.

  Alron moved before a single round was discharged.

  He cocooned Sofi inside a wing and picked up the vault door with both hands. Alron dragonized it and spun his entire body to launch the three-tonne metal disc into the office, as its edges transformed into talons. Without a flicker’s pause, Alron raced after the spinning door, plucked his glaive from the wall as he ran, coated it in soulfire, and lay a quick blinding cut across Katjan’s eyes on his way to charge the small army of sentinels and redcloaks.

  A choir of cannons erupted, filling the room with smoke. The vault door crashed into redcloaks, crushing ten before smashing into a line of sentinels, whose bulk halted its momentum. It had cleared a path through the hail of blackmetal. Alron clo
sed the distance and unleashed a barrage of crescent sweeps.

  The fiery blade of his glaive dug into the mass of blackmetal armor, shields, weapons, and guts of flesh and machines. It felt like swinging a metal log through molten rock. The weight of blackmetal bodies ground his cuts into a halt halfway, forcing Alron to cut again and again, until he hacked bodies into pieces one at a time.

  Already, Alron felt his source of vis draining dry. Without Fei’s control of soulfire, Alron could not draw more soulfire and replenish Fei’s rapidly dwindling vis. This could not last.

  Fates favored Alron with a stroke of luck. The chest with remaining butterflies and mirage projector sat untouched in the corner of the room, separated from him by a mere twenty obstacles. Most of them died when he walked through them.

  Alron kicked the chest and caught the butterfly bag and projector from the air. He slipped the projector under the wing with Sofi, and crushed the butterfly bag. With a sharp inhale, Alron drew the fire butterfly dust into his lungs. Use it, Fei.

  Thank you… It won’t be enough to rebuild a heart.

  I know. We’ll have Mlevanosk’s fleshbender fix the rest, when we get there. We need not kill everyone here. For now we ru—

  Dente screamed in pain on the other side of the room.

  Sentinels hammered starsteel stakes through her limbs and stomach.

  This went far beyond Rasdrev being merely uncooperative with Sorcerer King. He was trying to capture Dente, and her bonds.

  Though Alron had known them for but a few moments, most of which had been as enemies, they were still precious to Dente. He could not allow her life to be consumed by the same loss as his was.

  Alron pitched his glaive over a shoulder. It pierced five redcloaks and three sentinels. He dashed after it, picked the weapon from the wall it had dug into, and silenced ten more voices forevermore. Three sentinels remained, their conviction to end him as unshakeable as that of carrionspawn. Alron drew starsteel stakes from Dente’s limbs and threw them through the sentinels’ cores. He allowed the rest of the redcloaks—all seven—to flee as they were overcome by terror.