The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  Dai began to laugh. “You think you can make that save us all?”

  I had no words for him.

  Huan suddenly swept behind me, pushing me with his snout. “You have to stop him,” he said. I turned around and clambered up his back.

  “You coward!” Dai called as we took to the sky.

  No archers went for us this time. Huan glided down past another throng of soldiers, blasting fire and sending them running for cover. More than enough mercenaries fled. A dragon, on top of the carnage, was too much for most.

  “My lord!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. In the distance, Yuebek turned, his head jerking with the movement. The sight of the dragon didn’t seem to faze him.

  “My queen,” he said, his robes drenched in my people’s blood.

  “It’s over, my lord. We’re winning the battle. We must’ve already won. We—”

  He charged the dragon.

  Huan was airborne when Yuebek reached him, which may have saved his life. Yuebek’s sword slid through his shoulder like a hot knife through butter, right above where his heart would be. He shot a blast of flame. The tendrils curled around Yuebek before dying.

  “Dragons,” he spat. “What else were you hiding from me, my whore queen? What other lies have you tried to feed me all these weeks?”

  “My lord, if you would just listen—”

  He pulled the sword and turned to strike at me. I lifted my sword, blocking the blow and then the next. It felt like holding back an avalanche. My arms began to crumble under the strain, my fingers trembling amidst the blood.

  “Your mother was Jinsein,” I gasped. “Do you not desire to become a Dragonlord, Yuebek?”

  He stopped, his eyes watery as he stared at me, as if he had never imagined I would dare utter such words. “My mother?” he snapped. “This is why Warlord Yeshin came for me?”

  “You must’ve known where she came from.”

  “My father had everything about her erased! How did you—no, of course. You’d keep records here, too. The Dragon Palace. Your archives! They’ll be the first to burn when I ascend the throne.”

  “Her blood will allow you to ride dragons, my lord,” I said. “Only those descended from Jinsein royalty through the motherline can ride them.”

  Yuebek didn’t even acknowledge my words. He walked past Huan’s snapping jaws, pushing him back with another unseen blast. Back to the throng he went, still babbling to himself. Back to the slaughter. It was as if I had simply ceased to exist.

  By the time I dismounted from Huan within sight of the city, the dead were piled in the fields and crows circled the skies.

  Several other events happened that dawn, most of which I learned from Huan secondhand. Jiro’s attack caught Kaggawa’s main camp off guard, which sent the soldiers on the field into a panic. What was left of Dai Kaggawa’s army was surrounded before noon.

  We had expected him to surrender. He didn’t.

  I liked that about Dai. For all that he was an ambitious maniac like the rest, he had guts, at least. He split his army in half—one part to deal with the threat behind him, the other to continue with the siege. A risky maneuver, but they were desperate, and his men fought all the harder for it.

  But Yu-yan was desperate, too. Weeks under siege had left it battered, bruised, and starving. Things that could break morale in many cases, but turn water into fire in others. And in any case, my orders to the Anyus had meant that they still had the numbers—they did the bare minimum to protect Yu-yan from Kaggawa’s assault, spending most of their time trying to protect their people from the attacks inside. So when that final charge came, they gave it their all. The rest immediately dropped their weapons in surrender. It was astounding to see weeks of preparation be reduced to a few key minutes. Years, if you counted everything my father had done.

  The Zarojo army marched through the gates to the crowd’s deafening roar. But they weren’t cheering for the foreigners. “Dragonlord!” the people were calling. “Dragonqueen!” The chant shook the city to its very foundations, the cry of a people who could not—would not—bow even at the edge of desperation. You say this pride cannot feed us, but perhaps we understand that at the worst of times, it is all we may ever have. It is pride that can sustain us another hour, pride that can see us through where others break.

  On any other day, I might’ve taken heart from it. But after the last few days, I could only feel exhaustion, could only feel my senses darken with every step I took. I couldn’t remember how I managed to make it through the gates without getting crushed between the soldiers. I slipped and fell to my knees in the next alley. Fighting for grip in the mud, I felt someone grab my arm and hoist me up. “My queen. Everyone’s been looking for you,” Eikaro said. “Your husband—”

  “Don’t call him that,” I snapped.

  “Prince Yuebek,” he corrected himself with a thin smile, “is waiting for you in the keep.”

  I would die a happy woman if I never saw him again. “First I need sleep, my lord.”

  Eikaro didn’t argue. He found me a bed in the barracks—probably an officer’s, hurriedly vacated on his orders—where I allowed myself a few hours of blessed darkness. Not that it did much good. In my dreams I was running again, screaming for my son, screaming for Khine while dragon wings hummed in the background. I woke up to the sensation of grief, as if someone had died during the night and I was swimming in the aftermath. Not wanting to dwell on it a moment longer, I stumbled out of the room.

  The soldiers allowed me to take food from their mess hall, where the excitement of the recent victory was palpable. There were smiles on the hollowed faces, laughter. The cook was ladling out gruel in generous portions. “No rations tonight!” he told me with a grin. “We’ve got supplies raided from Kaggawa’s camps!”

  The same camps where others were dying or already dead. A celebration on one side, a wake on the other. I couldn’t share the revelry, not when I could still hear the dead’s screaming every time I closed my eyes. I supposed it was easier to be a soldier in this regard. Every battle could be the last, and so victories seem to last forever. I knew better. The world wasn’t built by well-intentioned souls. The right answers exist only in the dreams of the delusional.

  I took my bowl to a quiet corner and managed to get a few bites in before I heard movement beside me. I looked up. General Nor’s face was a steel mask.

  I placed my spoon down. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  I ate a bit more before eventually sliding off the bench to follow her. She took me up the stairs to a guarded hallway, and then into a private room with fur-covered stools arranged around a large desk. Eikaro sat near the window, staring at the wooden figures on a map marking the location of Kaggawa’s army from last night. Nor stalked over to it and carefully removed each one, replacing it with two other figures.

  “The Oren-yaro and the Zarojo,” she explained, crossing her arms.

  “Go on.”

  “I’m told the Zarojo outnumber us. But that’s not important. What’s important is that Yuebek’s army is currently divided. He only has a thousand men in the city—Yu-yan doesn’t have enough resources to sustain them and they’ve been dispersed, per the late General Ozo’s orders, to Kaggawa’s war camps. What he wanted was for the Oren-yaro to begin attacking them once your part is under way.” She scowled. “You’re supposed to take Prince Yuebek to the ridge, if I understand correctly.”

  “That’s not even half of it,” I continued. “General Ozo’s death leaves us a dilemma. He was supposed to help me find a way to be alone with Yuebek up there. We need him to use his powers to fix the rift in those mountains and hopefully put an end to all of this, Yuebek himself included.”

  “I saw what he did to Kaggawa’s army,” Nor replied. “I couldn’t believe it. I still can’t. Tell me it’s a dream. What is he, Talyien?”

  “An abomination,” Eikaro answered for me. “My brother and I were flying near the ram
parts when he first appeared. You told me he’s dealt with blood magic, Beloved Queen? Then it stands to reason he’s been using it on himself. He’s linking with his own soldiers, using their blood as his own personal sustenance. I wouldn’t be surprised if it has turned his own into pure agan. He’s a walking tomb, filled with the dead.”

  “That explains why he is nearly invincible around his soldiers,” I said. It seemed oddly wasteful to me. Yuebek used villagers’ blood to give life to dummies—couldn’t he have done the same thing here instead? Perhaps that was the plan. Perhaps he wanted the dummies and his army here, and you ruined it, just like you ruined everyone else’s plans. I would have been pleased with myself if I had any humour left. “If he has hundreds of soldiers in the city…” I slumped into my seat.

  “Yu-yan’s soldiers aren’t in the best shape, either,” Nor said, after a few moments of silence. “The surviving number less than a thousand, and more than half are wounded. We’re prisoners here.”

  “A familiar feeling. We’re chained to our duties, but surrendering isn’t an option.”

  “Cowards will disagree, my queen,” Rai broke in as he walked into the room. He looked just as exhausted as I felt, his clothes streaked with dirt. He was followed by Namra. “Surrender is always an option. The battle is over for now, and I believe there is nothing more you can do. Yuebek is a lost cause. He no longer trusts you.”

  I gave him a thin smile. “So you want me to run away, just like you did.”

  He strode up to the window and tugged at the curtains, allowing light to stream onto the table. “You were not raised to be prudent,” he said. “But sometimes the battle is lost, and there is nothing more we can do but pull back and plan again.”

  “Did you look outside, Rai? Prudence will not serve us anymore.” It hurt, thinking that. Forcing courage, knowing you had lost nearly every weapon at your disposal but that you must live to fight another day… We were close. We were so close. Were our attempts nothing more than flailing at the wind?

  I stared out the window, my mind racing. Everyone was looking at me. I took a deep breath and picked up a chalice from the table.

  “Get me some wine,” I told Nor.

  “Drinking at this hour—” Rai began.

  I shot him a look. “Wine,” I repeated.

  Nor, realizing what I was doing, gave a small nod. She strode out of the room and returned with a jug of coconut liquor, which she poured into the cup. I bared my right arm.

  “We have nothing but ourselves. Rai is right. We can still run. But then who would clean up the mess? Do we do what our fathers did and leave it to our children? Enjoy the rest of our lives and let them deal with it? I can’t. I can’t just sit back and repeat the mistakes they’ve made. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do now, but I know I have to do something.”

  I pulled the grass-cutter from my belt and sliced my arm. Blood ran down my elbow, dripping into the wine.

  “This ends with us,” I said. I picked up the chalice and held it out for Namra.

  “My queen, I am not a royal,” she whispered.

  “We are Jinsein,” I said evenly. “Royal or commoner—we’re the same. Maybe our elders didn’t understand that, but we’re not them. Even when they snatch the hopes from our very mouths, they cannot take this away.”

  She swallowed before accepting both the cup and the blade with a bow. She drew blood from her wrist and gave it to Nor beside her, who followed suit before passing them to Eikaro.

  “I bleed for both me and my brother,” he said as he sank the blade into his flesh. “And for those who cannot be here. We are children of Jin-Sayeng. We will fight for her.” He turned to hold the chalice and blade out to Rai.

  Rai paused before taking each of them. “This ends with us,” he repeated, before cutting himself. He lifted the chalice and took a drink. He passed it back to me. I touched the rim of the cup to my lips and swallowed. The acrid taste of the blood and wine lit my veins on fire.

  “Gods have mercy,” Eikaro breathed. “We may lose our lives, and everything with it.”

  “It is calmest in the eye of the storm,” Nor said, solemn as a priestess.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE VICTORY FEAST

  I spent several hours getting ready, knowing there was no point in hurrying. I even took time to write. Yuebek could wait; the farce had to go on. Servants came to clean me up and dress me in royal robes, marking me as queen. Queen of a dying land. Nor came up to fetch me, and together, we marched like prisoners being led to the executioners’ block.

  “Stand firm, General,” I said as I left her to go up the steps on my own.

  She thumped her chest with her fist and bowed.

  The victory feast was held in the Anyu keep’s great hall, one that felt dizzyingly out of place with the carnage that still marked the fields outside the city. There stood all the royals of Yu-yan—pathetically sparse, since the Anyus had wrestled their way into land that belonged to the common people—and not even looking like they had dressed hurriedly in their expensive clothing after that last, sleepless night. Warlord Huan Anyu cut a magnificent sight in his ceremonial armour. Lady Grana and Lady Tori stood on each side of him, their heads held high. Their retinue were scattered in the hall, chatting amiably amongst themselves, cups of wine in their hands. It all looked just like any other celebration except for one little thing: the expression of sheer fright on their faces.

  It was a mockery that managed to surpass the wedding. Many of these people must’ve thought they were going to die the night before. Food stores had been running so low that some of the poorer districts had turned to eating rats; the cats and dogs were left for the royals. So the turning point of victory must’ve felt like ashes in the mouths of those who could see who delivered it. Nobody cares about the person behind the hand that reaches for a drowning man. It is only afterwards… afterwards…

  Yuebek was standing in the warlord’s spot. He looked bored, restless, a far cry from his usual jeering self. His eyes fell on me as soon as my arrival was announced, and never left the whole time I walked towards him.

  “You,” he said under his breath. He lifted one hand, snapping his fingers.

  Music began to play.

  “Why are you angry?” I laughed as I beheld his sulking.

  “The witch at our flank, the dragon…”

  “We’re at war, Yuebek. A war you helped start, if I’m not mistaken. No one told you to attack those priests.”

  “You see how my wife dredges up past mistakes?” Yuebek asked, glancing at the silent crowd. “But then, I shouldn’t be surprised. Given your reputation, I should’ve known you would do something like this to me. After everything I’ve risked for you—all the things I was willing to overlook…!” Spittle gathered at the corners of his lips as he spoke, and his eyes were blazing.

  “I don’t understand, my lord,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Have I not proven my loyalty after all this time?”

  “Proven? My lady, you’ve proven nothing. On our wedding night, I thought I finally had your heart at last—that my new wife was going to give me everything I ever wanted, everything I have been looking for my whole life. Instead, you betray me.” He leered at me, holding his fingers up. “Three times. Three times, you betrayed me! Bring them in!” he roared.

  The doors opened. Yuebek’s guards strode in, dragging a child and a woman behind them. It was Anino and Chiha, both bound with thick ropes.

  Chiha and I looked at each other in silence. Her head was held high, proud. With a painted face and in royal robes, she looked every bit the queen that I never could be.

  “My men found this one hiding with one of your rice lords while they were looking for your son,” Yuebek said. “A Jin-Sayeng royal, with some brat! The wrong brat, but I thought she looked familiar.”

  Yuebek walked up to her. Chiha turned to him, defiant. He stroked her chin. “It was definitely you,” he said, a wistful look on his face. “My sweet, beautiful dream.
I should’ve known it was too good to be true.”

  She spat at him.

  His eyes blazed, but he smiled. “What I don’t understand, my wife,” he continued, turning to me, “is why you would even dare such a trick. It’s not as if you had any purity to preserve. Were you afraid you couldn’t please me? Is that what it was?”

  I gave a thin smile, refusing to answer.

  Yuebek snorted. “Such wonderful women you have here. So much pride and strength. A pity they’re such deceitful creatures. Deceitful as my mother.” He clenched his fists. “You know what’s coming, Beloved Queen. Should I kill the boy first? Or the mother? One will have to watch the other die. Both sound so delightful!”

  “Mercy is—” I began.

  “Please, Talyien,” Chiha spoke up. “Look at the man. He relishes pain. I don’t know about you, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of begging for our lives.”

  “Smart,” Yuebek said. “Maybe I’ll keep you around.”

  She gave a thin smile. “Not a chance in hell after that night with you. I expected more from an Esteemed Prince. What a disappointment.” She pulled out a knife she had hidden inside her robe. “Don’t look, my love,” she ordered.

  Her son shut his eyes as she stabbed herself in the gut.

  She didn’t die immediately. Chiha lingered long enough for me to reach her side, to grab my hand with her blood-drenched one. She squeezed it with a strength that took me aback. Not an ounce of fear, or regret—I was the one shaking, not her. She pulled me close so she could whisper in my ear.

  Only then did she lose her grip on life. Blood on the floor, on my robes, the smell spinning inside my senses along with her words. I laid her down gently. I couldn’t even remember a time when I was the one who wanted her dead. Old memories, old wounds. I felt nothing but grief.