Dragon Core

by Sain Artwell

  “Even so…” Dente’s hands trembled. Determination returned to her glare. “For the sake of the dead, I will believe in Sorcerer King’s vision.”

  She struck Mlevanosk’s container with her icy blade, shattering it into a million pieces.

  Chapter 19 - Apocalypse Awakes

  Mlevanosk’s brain fell with glass. Though Alron moved, he was not fast enough to catch it. Fei leapt out of his lungs as an azure bolt of fire, fast as lightning; she shot towards Mlevanosk, slowing down her fall. Shards bounced off her flames as if they were solid.

  Hurry… My control is failing.

  Alron had sprang into motion the instant Mlevanosk’s glass cage shattered to keep Dente occupied. He struck with full strength for her throat. Dente released Sofi, deflecting his claws an inch from her neck. Alron pressed on, the fury of his assault such that Dente struggled to defend despite having an oracle’s eye and a morphcore weapon.

  What he slashed did not heal instantly. Her dragon-core was as starved for vis as his had been. She could not use her dragonfire out of the risk to her injured companions.

  She was defeated well before Alron raked the scales off her arms, tore her ligaments, and exploded her lungs with a punch, which crushed her sternum. Dente collapsed against the wall.

  Her weapon took a wyrmkin form made of ice and lunged at Alron with bladed arms. For an awakened master, he might’ve been mighty, but he was no knight of Myrwing, let alone a broken dragongod. Alron struck his skull, heart, and organs, leaving the man unconscious on the ground.

  “Sofi, how long do we have?” he asked, keeping an eye on Dente.

  Sofi held a hand to her neck and struggled up. She leaned against the controls of what had been Mlevanosk’s container. Her voice was pained and weary. “Minutes… The nerve links weren’t broken, we can…” She stopped at a lever, cursing. “Apologies. Rasdrev has a key to deactivate the lock… I can’t…”

  “Here.” Alron strode to her side, plucked a glass-shard from the ground, dragonized it, and inserted the thing into the lock. Pieces of dragonized glass squirmed into the nooks and crannies of the lock until it clicked. “What now?”

  “Moment…” Sofi attended to the machine, producing a syringe of purple liquid, which she sprayed directly on Mlevanosk’s brain.

  “Dente…” Alron turned a cold glare on her, as she clung to life only by the grace of her regeneration.

  Don’t be too harsh. She’s a good girl.

  She’s an enemy. She tried to kill Mlevanosk.

  She’s still our girl. We’ll only ever have one of her.

  I know.

  “…the next time you stand before me, I will not hesitate to end your lovers. I should hope that won’t be before the Ascendancy falls, but if you insist on following in my footsteps, and being blind to Sorcerer King’s trickery, I will oblige.” In warning, his gaze swept over her companions. “Now leave.”

  She crawled up, gathered her companions, and dragged them out. To where, Alron no longer cared. He closed the door after her, dragonized its hinges to seal it in place, and rushed to hover above Sofi.

  “What can I do to help?” Alron asked, eyeing the brain suspended in flames. This was beyond his knowledge.

  “Wait… Fei, please hold still.” Biting her tongue in focus, Sofi adjusted several switches. “There! Mlevanosk, we have five minutes and twenty flickers before your vis runs out. We have the vestiges, but the fleshbender is dead. What do we do?”

  A hoarse voice faintly female and faintly familiar replied. “…is plenty. Do you have blackmetal and visaltium to work with?”

  “Alron has your vestige cartridge,” said Sofi and glanced at Alron.

  “A single cartridge may not suffice.”

  “Sentinels.” Alron nodded and moved. He opened the vault door and dragged three sentinels inside, before sealing the door again. “Next?”

  “Stack eight hundred pounds of blackmetal over my bones on a stone. Dragonized floor will do, if stone is not available. Release my morphcore atop the blackmetal heap. Do not be alarmed as it trickles into the pile. Next, peel my vestiges off of the visaltium cartridge and place them on opposite corners of the heap, so that their edges barely touch it. Tell me when this is done.”

  Alron and Sofi worked quickly, arranging vestiges and metal according to Mlevanosk’s instructions.

  “Done!” Sofi cried.

  “The next steps must be done in quick succession, so listen first. Place an empty visaltium cartridge standing upright atop the mound, drench it in liquid vis, disconnect my brain from the support, and connect the nerve-tendril to the vis-cartridge. I will then activate my vestiges and re-assemble my dragon-core.”

  “What about putting them inside me? How do we do that?”

  “It will be a little more painful than it would be without the fleshbender, but I can perform the operation once I connect to my vestiges. Just stand near.”

  Alron cracked open a large canister of liquid vis and drenched the visaltium cartridge liberally. He then looked to Sofi. “Sofi…” He paused. She was about to relinquish her body to Mlevanosk. Sofi was about to be no more. “How long do we have left?”

  “Less than two minutes. We better hurry.”

  “Sofi.” Alron placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her mid-task. “Thank you.” He wrapped her into an embrace, and repeated, “Thank you. Allow me to remember your full name.”

  “Sofierov—”

  “No. The… identification number or some such.”

  “Ah?” She winced, forcing on a conflicted smile. “Oh. That. It’s not exactly important to me.”

  “Then, Sofierov, do you have regrets or wishes you wish to pass on?”

  Sofi licked her lips, swallowing, blinking rapidly to chase away moistness in her eyes. “I…”

  “Apologies for asking now. I should’ve spoken to you sooner.”

  Tell the girl she was a good girl.

  “Fei wants you to know she thinks of you as a good girl.”

  “Heh! No.” She shook her head, putting on a brave smile. “That’s fine. I… Stars, a last wish. Never thought about it. I’m just happy to repay Mlevanosk what I owe, and to be able to help her. Thank you, Mlevanosk, for everything.”

  “Thank you, Sofi. Apologies for not being able to do more for you.”

  She was too soft a soul to have been born a wyrmkin. Alron, knowing there was little else to do, touched her shoulder and gave her a look of gratitude.

  “Hurry,” Mlevanosk urged.

  Alron poured the rest of the liquid vis on the cartridge to drench it, while Sofi retrieved a black tendril full of twinkling lights. She placed it on a slot which had formerly contained one of Mlevanosk’s four vestiges.

  Nothing happened, at first.

  Then, sounds: Whirring, chafing, slowly accelerating spinning. Beneath blackmetal, bones were rotating. Heat emanated from the pile, followed by red gas. Stench of burning metal assailed Alron’s nostrils. Mlevanosk’s morphcore peeked through the heap of blackmetal scrap, as the mound began to fluctuate into an odd state of semi-liquid. The metal animated, swirling, folding in upon itself in abstract patterns of indecipherable geometry. Metal tendrils reached out for the four corner vestiges, and the vestiges themselves unfolded into hundreds of individual parts. The mass began to peel off the ground, gathering upwards into a rising pillar, enveloping the visantium cartridge and snapping off the cord connecting it to Mlevanosk’s brain.

  Sofi yelped, but held her ground, as the pillar of odd grooved metal rose into a ten feet tall and two inch wide slab. Rotating gently, Mlevanosk’s bones rose through the metal, stopping at the top. Black branches extended into a loose cage around it and continued to grow further, extending into a tall, thin pole at the top.

  Several moments passed. Mlevanosk’s bones continued to gently rotate atop the unmoving slab of rough material not quite metal or stone. A thrust of emotions caught Alron by surprise.

  “Did it… Did it fail? Mlevanosk’s brain is
dead! Did it fail?” Sofi cried in a growing alarm. At some point, Mlevanosk’s brain had melted into a black slurry.

  Fei materialized, her anger rising. “That’s… No no no no… We failed, we must’ve.”

  Alron reached out to touch the handle atop the slab. A memory lingered on the surface of the vestiges, and called out his name.

  Alron closed his eyes and immersed himself in the memory.

  ***

  Mlevanosk was as she’d been a hundred years ago. Her light gray skin shimmered under brilliant sunlight as she lounged by a pearly beach, gazing at a pitch black sea dotted with stars. Her white sarong danced gently in the wind.

  “Alron…” Mlevanosk met him with a smile Though her face was but a blurred memory corroded by the flow of time, she was as beautiful as ever.

  He smiled back. “Mlevanosk.”

  She continued without reacting. “…this is my goodbye. The procedure was a lie. With all the experimentation done to my vestiges, my only viable option to carry on would’ve been to follow in Rasdrev’s footsteps. This may sound selfish, but I choose not to be that desperate to live. This century… it was not all bad. In a way, I was free. Free-er than I ever was. Yet, I grew weary over the years. More weary than I should have. I know your grief runs deep, but I cannot bring myself to ride the tide of wrath it has roused in you.” She sighed. “I hope you can forgive me for taking the coward’s way out, after all you’ve done for me…”

  “Of course. All is forgiven.”

  “…Don’t hold it against the ones who call themselves Mlevanosk’s Friends—an embarrassing title, I know.” Mlevanosk laughed. Stars, how beautiful her laughter was. Alron smiled, as she continued, “Spare them from your quest, if you can. They are family to me. I love them…”

  “I will,” said Alron softly.

  “…as for Sofi. She is my legacy, my true masterpiece. I believe she has a chance to realize my theories, and end the cataclysmic ascension cycles by opening a path to power without vestiges, or the danger of dragonic ascension. Once her confusion and tears fade, show her this memory fragment. I’ve sealed a portion of it to open to her vis signature. She’s a clever young woman, and has the intelligence to do what’s needed. If, by the end of your journey, when our vengeance is fulfilled and you find yourself lost without a cause, aid her.”

  Mlevanosk paused, glancing at the cracks in the sea and the sky. “I don’t believe the connection will hold much longer. I would’ve liked to leave a longer message. I would’ve liked to speak to you in person, but, for now, please give my goodbye to Sofi, goodbye to Fei, goodbye to Oqhizt—please do revive her, she is not as dead as they claim—and goodbye to Yuvera. Alron, I love you, and I forgive you for not coming for me. You were tricked, and it was not your fault. Though I don’t know whether there’s a true after-place for our souls, or if all we leave is an echo in the vestiges, I pray that you find some measure of peace before your end. Goodbye, Alron. Lift the blade. Kill Rasdrev.”

  ***

  Alron opened his eyes, returning to a body burning with fifteen sorts of agonies. He drew a shuddering breath, lifting Mlevanosk’s creation off the ground and gazing up at the blunt edged monstrosity.

  “Alron, what’s going on?” Sofi asked.

  Fei was wide-eyed, nearly raving. “Where’s Mlevanosk?! Why is Sofi here? Did she break it?”

  Sofi flinched with guilt.

  “No. It wasn’t her fault. Mlevanosk never intended to take her body. She lied, because she feared we might stop her if she didn’t. She was weary and wished only for rest. This is her last gift to us.” Alron glanced at Sofi, deciding to omit certain parts for now. “She bid you both goodbye. She loved you very much, Sofi, and she loved us. She was a good woman, a great wyrmkin, a peerless genius, and a beloved soul. May she be remembered forever in the memories of wyrmkin.”

  Fei closed her eyes and covered them, suppressing an angry sob. Sofi simply stared, first at Alron, then the sword, then Mlevanosk’s brain, then at nothing in particular. Her shoulders slumped, and she deflated, planting her ass on the ground, utterly dumbfounded and devastated.

  Alron let the two women weep the loss of their friend. She’d suffered in that tank, suffocated until the woman he’d loved was too worn to see a reason to go on. She’d long ago let go of life, and only waited for him to come.

  Sorrow courted his heart as well, but he denied it entry. This blade was Mlevanosk’s will, and she’d not left this world behind just so that he would be too tear-ridden to carry out her final wish.

  Sniffling, Fei sought out his embrace, and buried her nose against Alron. Sofi soon followed, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Wha-what is that?” She pointed at Mlevanosk’s final creation.

  “Did she name it?” asked Fei.

  Sofi’s brows furrowed. “Name it? Why?”

  Alron had known its name the moment he’d seen it. It had the same blocky shape as another blade he knew. Its edge was similarly blunted, and even the material was of the same oddly folded rough gray stone striped with black and red lines of metal. Mlevanosk’s memories had imprinted into him the instructions for how to wield its power, and what it did.

  A chuckle escaped him. Who’d have thought, he mused, that I would slay you, only to follow your steps.

  Who are you talking to?

  My father.

  “This blade is the Son of Armageddon, the Apocalypse—Mlevanosk’s final wish.” Alron twirled the blade into a stance. He released his draconic vis through its inner workings. Hidden switches and mechanisms clicked into life. Apocalypse awakened. By instincts Mlevanosk had left him, he knew how to wield it. Once dragonized, it was a simple matter of willing the blade to activate in a direction of his choosing, or willing it to stop and absorb motion.

  As a test, Alron swung it once and absorbed the motion.

  The spin-core near the handle spun into motion. The blade barely moved as it absorbed the energy of his motion. Alron activated the blade upwards, and the spin-core released the stored energy as a boost of motion, hurtling the blade towards the ceiling. Gently disentangling from Fei and Sofi, Alron stepped into an open area and began to swing the Apocalypse repeatedly to load the spin-core. The pitch of whirring grew as more and more and even more spin-energy was stored into the core, until Mlevanosk’s bones blurred into a featureless ball of motion.

  “That’s it? That’s her masterpiece? A simple sword.” Sofi sounded betrayed. Her wide eyes demanded something different to be the answer—anything that she might latch onto so she could justify Mlevanosk’s death.

  Alron would not yet speak of Mlevanosk’s plans for her. She was not yet as hardened by years as he or Fei. Best let the sorrow carve its channels in her heart and let them set, before ushering her to yet again devote her life to someone else’s cause. She needed some time to grieve.

  And so, Alron gave her a simple smile. “A simple sword is perfect for me. Fei, how is your body?”

  “Recovering.” The hole in her chest had been replaced by a blue throbbing heart made out of solid blue fire. “Ready to dance when you are.”

  Alron nodded, turning to Sofi. “Do you have safe places to hide in?”

  “Certainly. We have hideouts throughout the city. The others should be in them already.” After wiping her puffing eyes, Sofi began towards a side-door. “What do we do now?”

  “Now, Fei will escort you to safety. You will take shelter. We will execute our bloody justice.”

  Alron swung the Apocalypse, and continued to charge up the blade’s core.

  Chapter 20 - Dying Wish

  “A Blackmetal heavy infantry battalion and a squad of mobile artillery units besiege the building. Further, two battalions and three squads of artillery cover the surroundings, many of them supplied with starsteel ammunition. No signs of Alron. He must be still inside,” said Ashir.

  Suggestions of distant vistas swirled on her wide-open eyes. She and ten other awakened master oracles sat cross-legged in a circle inside Kastalos’ com
mand tent. Kastalos cursed the sands, drawing deep drags of goldleaf to calm his nerves.

  “A mere fraction of his strength. Anyone have a scry on Rasdrev?” he asked.

  Five women answered a series of ‘no’ and ‘no master’.

  Kastalos cursed again, tapping his bejeweled claws on his travel throne’s armrest. “Progress update on our saboteurs.”

  “Eight out of eleven Sandblade assassin units are awaiting command. South, south-east, and south-south-east artillery embankments are surrounded by lava rivers, which are slowing our advance.”

  Kastalos weighed the decision. Blackmetal City’s artillery was second to none, and three embankments, each fitted with several cannons of latest design, could dent his army significantly if left unchecked. In this war on Alron, Kastalos could not afford to waste a single wyrmkin. But, on the tail-side, dalliance could well lead to far greater losses. Alron was wounded and far from his full strength. There would be no better chance to kill him than now.

  “Prepare for assault.” Kastalos spoke the order with calm resignation.

  Oracles spread the command to his generals and commanders, who set in motion a preordained battle plan designed to breach Blackmetal City with minimum casualties, and bring the collective might of Dustwing Dunes down on Alron.

  “Master! He’s left the building!” Ashir cried.

  “Delay the order,” said Kastalos, leaning forward on his seat. “Ashir, speak.”

  “The blockade fired upon him the moment he emerged. He didn’t manage to avoid it. It’s a direct hit! The barrage hit him directly. I caught no signs of Fei.”

  So Fei was still wounded and out of battle. That was good. Alron, alone and at his current strength, was vulnerable to both conventional and starsteel weapons. So long as he did not bond with a fleshbender—which he would not, considering his former companion was dead and buried—his defeat was simply a war of attrition. A costly and a difficult war of attrition to be sure, but a winnable war nonetheless.