Dragon Core

by Sain Artwell

The blood clone lapped it up hungrily, growing, gaining uncannily wyrmkin-like features, but never quite resembling a true wyrmkin. Its crimson membrane stretched out to wear Oqhizt’s bones the way a wyrmling might wear the armor of his father.

  Eventually, Kme covered her wrist and backed off, collapsing on the ground. “No more, I can’t give more,” she said, laboring to breathe. “You must keep feeding her.”

  Alron grunted. He drew deeply from the source of his vis, a nigh inexhaustible well thanks to being half-a-step from godhood. Like a blood-pink sack of organs being filled with air, Oqhizt’s blood clone ballooned against her mummified bones until they stabbed through. Its jellified body quickly wrapped over the shattered skull and fingers. Inner structures began to solidify, growing opaque and cherry red. Vestiges spread out from her dragon-core, stretching through the translucent body like the luminescent branches of abyssal coral. Her skull wiggled, bones popping out from the cavity, new tissue smoothing the holes. With a wet squelch, the blood clone drew breath. Its bony arm jerked, scraping stone with thick claws, dragging itself nowhere.

  It coughed and wheezed painfully, howling in anguish every so often as it did, sometimes with a voice Alron recognized, other times with the voice of pure, mindless pain. But slowly, its likeness grew from uncanny to familiar.

  A singular tall white horn stood from her hairline, upright with a slight backwards curve. New vertebrae formed, giving birth to a long tail as thick and muscular as her claw-tipped legs. Her arms were likewise of powerful make, and her body that of a warrior. Facial features emerged from her skull. Sharp teeth filled empty sockets. A long, razor-edged tongue rolled out with a cough. Black eyes with blue irises popped in their sockets, and were quickly wrapped by lids. Dark red hair bloomed out into a poofy tangled mess of a mane, and blood flushed off Oqhizt’s skin as it turned a cherry red.

  Did it succeed? Fei peered over cautiously.

  “Curse that rot-egg pile of—” Oqhizt coughed, her voice hoarse as she scampered onto all fours.

  Tension eased around Alron’s chest. It did.

  Oqhizt continued coughing up phlegm, blood, and mummified rib-bones. Blinking away tears, she stared at the puddle. “Ghaaahhh… Why do my bones look so old?”

  Fei giggled gleefully and jumped down from her throne.

  Alron chuckled. “Welcome back, Oqhizt.”

  Oqhizt tried to stand and faltered, until Alron rushed to help her up. Groaning, she straightened her back. Things cracked. “And jeez, they feel old…” She latched onto his arm and gazed up, and with a single grin, rekindled another flame in the depths of Alron’s abyssal heart. “Hey, but if I’m alive, that means we did it, right? The big fucker is dead! Suck my ass-dipped tail, you Garbage Carrion!” she shouted cheerfully at the ceiling. “We bloody damn did it! Hahaha! C’mere handsome, you owe me a victory dance.”

  She pulled herself against him, pressing her lips against Alron’s. He tasted bile, blood, and swampwater.

  “Muah!” Oqhizt pulled out, sharp, jagged teeth grinning wide. In the span of a flicker, it died into a serious line, her voice sombering. “Aight. I’m ready for the bad news. Where are the others? Oh, hi Fei. Knew you’d make it.”

  Fei waved her fingers, speaking unusually softly. “Greetings.”

  “Neat. So that’s Fei. So, spit it out, Al. Who’s dead, what’s the damage like? I wanna get this grief stuff over with, get drunk, and get to victory fucking as soon as possible.”

  Alron patted Oqhizt’s shoulder, resting his gaze in her eyes. Big and blue, they were like a living memory, gemstones from a brighter age. “If you’re still of that mind once I finish the story, I’ll gladly embrace you. I must apologize though, for this will be a long story.”

  “Oh, Good. Lying still and listening for a bit sounds just right, right now… Make sure to sprinkle a few jokes to balance out the dark bits, if it’s dark.”

  Fei snorted, earning a curious gaze from Oqhizt.

  Alron explained, “My sense of humor, I’m afraid, was among the victims of the Carrion War and events that ensued. Though, I make do with what’s left.”

  And so, there in the underground throne room, Alron sat down to recount the long line of events from his final blow against Carrion Scourge to where he slaughtered the elders of clan Talotl to revive Oqhizt. Brightness faded from Oqhizt’s eyes, and a deeply disturbed expression fell upon her features.

  Chapter 26 - Shaky Principles

  “Lemme think on this, alright?” That’s what Oqhizt had said, hours ago.

  Rain fell by the balcony, failing to wash the black abyss of night. Alron had already paid Kme with his vis-infused blood. All that was left was to wait for Oqhizt to make up her mind.

  Fei shifted against Alron’s side, lazily caressing his arm. She’d not said a word since Oqhizt had left them to wander the village below.

  This was always a possibility, he noted.

  I didn’t prepare… I didn’t think about it. She hasn’t even heard me out yet, about my other… It’s not as if I spend much time with them anymore, but they were a big part of me. She might not understand. Fei clutched her claw anxiously until Alron gathered her closer, planting a reassuring kiss on her brow.

  All is good. I know you are working with it. I can’t ask you for more than you already do.

  With a dismissive huff, Fei blew a puff of soulfire. You say that, but it’s the reason our bonding didn’t advance. It’s not… They’re not things I can get rid of, not on demand. But should you need the edge to ensure Sorcerer King’s painful death…

  I’ve no intention of surrendering to my dragonsoul.

  Sure. But, if there’s no other choice, I’m fine with becoming a dragongod if that’s what it takes.

  It won’t come down to that. Oqhizt will come around sooner or later. Besides, even if she doesn’t… Alron didn’t finish. It was true. Fei’s abilities, though powerful in their defensive and offensive capabilities, lacked the crucial aspect of regeneration. To battle the Knights of Myrwing and Sorcerer King, they needed Oqhizt.

  The presence of an oracle brushed over Alron. Since both he and Fei were invisible, it likely didn’t notice them, but the fact an oracle scanned the Talotl estate meant their foes were not far behind. Fei and he exchanged grim looks. Later would not be an option for long.

  After what happened at Blackmetal City, Alron doubted the remaining nations would idly watch him traipse through their lands. Regardless of Sorcerer King’s ultimate plans, the patriarchs and elders of the great clans would not idly wait for his blade. By his estimate, they had days until assassins and strike units would find them. Weeks until a proper army would arrive.

  “She’s had all the time we can afford her. Come,” said Alron, and Fei became a fiery cloak behind his wings.

  Alron glided down into the downpour, landing on a mud-caked street right next to Oqhizt, who’d found a small loincloth to wear. She spun around. The aged woman next to her balked a step backwards. Alron withdrew his wings and undid armor around his face.

  “Time for a decision,” he said.

  Oqhizt’s focus moved from Fei to him. Her expression pinched. “Look. I’ve been talking with some folks… I believe your story. And I’m sorry what you had to go through, I really am, but… Well, it’s one thing to wake up realizing you’d missed a hundred years—and I don’t blame you for that by the way, I should’ve left you a clue—but it’s a whole ‘nother story see how much everything you knew has changed… Everyone.” She touched her brow, frowning. “And it’s… I think some bits are still a bit loose up here. There are black spots in my memory, not sure how big exactly. If I go back a month before the war… There’s a couple year gap. Maybe it’ll come back when my vestiges settle down, but… yeah. Some things are hard to reconcile.”

  “Q, how can you say such a thing? He’s our Alron,” Fei said, concerned.

  Oqhizt pressed her lips in a line. “Sorry, Fei.”

  “Mlev is dead. You were dead. Yuvera might be.” Fei
paused, the venom of her voice growing with each syllable. “They did this to us. They! The whole of Ascendancy is to blame. They earned this, every bit of it. Don’t you care that I was impaled with stakes in my own shit for a hundred years and tortured until my own dreams messed up my mind for good? Are you saying they don’t deserve to be killed for it?!”

  “Of course I care!” Oqhizt snapped. “Do I look like I’m having an easy time figuring this out? I’m not bonded to Alron anymore. I don’t feel your thoughts, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel your pain.”

  “Fei.” Alron’s calm, hard tone quieted her. He turned to Oqhizt. “Neither I nor Fei can turn back from our course. I won’t lie. We need you.”

  “Yeah, but this isn’t why we fought together.”

  “No. It is not,” admitted Alron.

  “I think I love you still, but I’m not gonna destroy a nation I just fought to save. Sorry.” Oqhizt forced on a brave smile.

  That was it then.

  No Oqhizt.

  No regeneration.

  No chance at victory.

  “So be it then,” said Alron calmly. “At dawn, Fei and I will take our leave. We will rest in the throne chamber.”

  “‘Kay. Think I’ll stay the night with Izi. She’s been helping me fill some holes in my memory.” Oqhizt looked to the wrinkled wyrmkin woman. She’d retreated to a hut, and waited by the door, watching. Oqhizt turned back to Alron with a look of apology heavier than the rain. “Look, I dunno if I should dare to ask for one last—” She paused abruptly, hesitant. “Probably not.”

  Alron understood. He reached out to her and wrapped Oqhizt in a close embrace, giving her a kiss as deep as their affections had been—were—could be. Perhaps it was the height of foolishness for him to indulge so. Perhaps it was hypocritical and wrong of him to so linger on such sentimentality, considering the number of lives he’d laid to waste. Yet, even so, Alron relished that fragile kiss earnestly.

  When Oqhizt stepped down, she hurried to Fei and gave her a quick embrace. She left them both feeling emptier than before.

  Hours later, Alron and Fei were back in the throne room. Sweat beaded down Alron’s chest and pleasure gripped him as he thrust into both Fei’s openings, using a dragonized tool to expand his senses and her ass.

  Uninvited steps sounded from the stairs. “May I enter?” asked Kme.

  Alron grunted in an affirmative.

  She hesitated before walking into the light of the braziers. Her leer journeyed across his muscled body and over Fei’s. “I have a proposal, which might anger you.”

  “I do not desire you,” said Alron, continuing to pound Fei.

  “Ouch. Some women might take offense at that.”

  “Do I strike you as a man worried of such possibilities?”

  She chuckled. “No. No, you do not.”

  “Speak. Then leave.”

  Kme bowed her head, taking a seat on one of the thrones. “I know of a way to reset Oqhizt and make it so that she’ll be more… receptive of you.” When he glanced at her, Kme licked her lips and took it as invitation to continue. “Oqhizt is still a fresh blood clone, and her body is working to enslave vestiges, which have been dormant for a hundred years. It will take time before she has full control of them, and, during that time, she is malleable.”

  “What are you suggesting? I won’t harm her.”

  “Your issue is her sense of morality, yes? She was always quite the heroic spirit, and it seems this… softness has only been enhanced by the fact some of her memories are foggy.”

  “I cannot be certain. A century is a long time. I may have forgotten who she was myself. No memory lasts forever.”

  “Exactly.” Kme stood, a clawed finger raised. “Who’s to say that the blood clone is not misinterpreting the memories of the original? This interpretation can be… influenced. Guided, if you prefer. A sufficiently skilled fleshbender could, if learned in Oqhizt’s methods of essence scribing, reset the blood clone and insert a subtle guiding influence into her.”

  Fei peaked. Her claws dug into Alron’s back. The rhythm of her orgasm pulled him over the precipice, though the pleasure was brief, and barely a distraction from the rush of fury swelling under his breath.

  “You suggest I would rewrite the mind of my lover?” he asked Kme.

  She flinched backwards. “No such thing. My touch would be a lesser change than the holes in her memory. I’m merely asking: Why should the passage of time be the only one allowed to influence her?”

  Fei gripped Alron’s shoulders, raising her head. “No… I see her way. Time might’ve taken away the crucial bits that make Q our Q, the exact memories that would’ve made her side with us… If only she remembered herself perfectly…”

  “Exactly.”

  Before Alron could retort, Fei spoke, “Alron, a hundred years is a long time. We’re not the same. Remember how lost I was? Q is broken in her own ways too. Deep within, she must be aching too to reforge her bond, even if she doesn’t know it. We have to help her. If we can give her the push she needs, then if we still love her, we have to do it.”

  “And thus, plunge her into this abyss of carnage and murder we’ve chosen to tread,” said Alron.

  In a way, it was selfishness which held Alron from the decision. In his world, Oqhizt was one of the few pillars of light which held aloft the mountains of darkness he’d piled above himself. She was a spark of light who’d not yet taken a single step on this path to ultimate self-destruction. Her principles were not yet tainted, her heart not yet blackened by the acidic flames of wrath. And her eyes… not until he’d gazed into those beautiful mirrors of the past had Alron truly seen himself again.

  Swiftly, he shrugged the glancing blow of self-pity. It was not an emotion allowed to those who so callously took the lives of others. Such wallowing was reserved for the weak of heart, those unable to take ownership of their actions. And Alron, for all the darkness he’d wrought, intended to bear the ultimate responsibility for his every action.

  He would eradicate all those who deserved it, and hand Dente the keys to a new world.

  The old Oqhizt would have understood.

  She would have agreed.

  He spoke firmly, without regret, “Let it be done. Kme, explain your plan.”

  “I have a condition.” She held up a finger. “My oracle detected the incoming scryings, and I’m no fool. This estate, nay, this region will soon be a warzone. Before such time, I need you gone and drawing away the attention by say… attacking my rival Blood Court clans? Of course, the more you can kill without destroying their property, the better.”

  Alron huffed, amused. This wicked woman. He would see to it that this woman died before Dente’s reign came to be. “So be it,” he said. He had no doubts of her skills as fleshbender, or that she would be able to do what she claimed. The fact she’d revived Oqhizt was proof enough.

  Kme nodded. “First, we need a fresh drop of her blood.”

  “I shall fetch it—” Alron froze at the sound of fleeting footsteps down the hallway.

  He lowered Fei off onto the ground, picked up Apocalypse, and yanked his robes on, dragonizing them as he dashed up the flights of stairs in a fraction of a moment.

  He caught up to Oqhizt at the stairs. Tears ran down her cheeks, ruining intricate ritual make-up, which covered her otherwise naked body in white swirling Naputzeri symbols of fertility and love. She’d even put on a recently crafted tiny white-leather choker, with a cheap jingling shell attached—a piece of jewelry identical to the piece he’d gifted her, when they first met over a hundred years ago. It’d been a promise of all promises, that of trust and devotion.

  She’d changed her mind. She’d planned on joining him and Fei.

  Chapter 27 - A Promise Forever Lost

  “How much did you hear?” he asked softly, his heart heavy.

  Oqhizt retreated a step, sniffing in her tears. Her bright eyes were like broken gems, their cracks of his making. “I followed Kme, thought I’d
wait outside. Wish I hadn’t. Would I ever have learnt of it if I’d gone to sleep?”

  “No. You would not,” Alron admitted.

  Oqhizt’s tail curled as the muscles of her face clenched together with her fists. “I thought,” she sobbed, “you were the only one in this world who would never go back on his word.”

  That struck him.

  When had it changed, he wondered. When had the outcome become more important than his core integrity? Was it because he was so close? Because so much rested on borrowing Oqhizt’s powers of regeneration? The realization filled him with unease. Only weeks prior, he remembered vowing to die rather than betray his ally.

  “If you’re gonna do it, just kill me now. The faster you do that, the less chance there is that any of these memories stick with me,” said Oqhizt, glaring at Alron’s blade.

  Alron’s grip tightened on the handle. Was the dragonsoul manipulating him? He’d not allowed an oracle to traipse through his mind, and thus it could only be his dragonsoul, or… Metallic red grooves embedded in Apocalype’s gray stone-like mass gleamed with distant light. Vestiges of his dead lover offered neither confirmation, nor denial. No. No sense blaming others for his weakness. This had been his choice.

  He raised the blade, and, in a single move, struck it deep through the floor.

  “Go,” said Alron. “I am no longer the Alron you knew, but I shall forever honor his vows to you.”

  Oqhizt stared at him, perplexed. “Where do you think I’d go? This world is insane. I know the people I loved in this world were betrayed by those they tried to protect, driving them to such insanity that the man I love most would betray me. Nah. I’m staying with you. I’ll kill some of the memories that I think are the problem. I’ll change, for you, and fix you up and bend to fill your cracks. Just promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  She forced on one of her stupidly wide winsome grins. “Give the new me a celebration fuck before explaining any of the difficult crap to her. And never, never tell her about this. I don’t need to know any of it.”