by Azalea Moone
Hoof prints behind him clambered against the dirt and mud. “Kohaku!” Fithel’s voice followed. “Watch out!”
Suddenly, Sawyer dashed toward him, thrusting his sword toward Kohaku. It was a feeble attempt; Kohaku side-stepped away, holding his ground, and continuing to talk peace with Sawyer. “Yes, that’s it, right? The man you now call master is somewhere. Here? You need not follow him, Sawyer.”
Sawyer snarled and attempted another attack, this time swinging his sword, but Kohaku invaded the hit. Had he barely even been alive in that body?
The hiss of a sword came from behind; Fithel stepped up with his weapon in hand. “Let me take care of this.”
“No!” Kohaku ordered. “It’s my duty as his lover.”
Fithel drew back, his body trembling with hesitation. But after seconds, he lowered his hand. “Very well.”
Yes, this was Kohaku’s responsibility. He drew his sword. He’d fight Sawyer until sunrise if he needed to. They’d battle until they were dead if that’s what it took, but he’d rather save Sawyer before coming to that conclusion.
Sawyer swung his sword again, and Kohaku shielded it with his own. They dodged and weaved and swung like mad toward each other; each time Kohaku blocked Sawyer’s attempts at mauling him. Each time, Sawyer pulled away and tried again. For a while, there was nothing else there but the twangs of metal on metal, the cobalt glistening eyes and veins of the madman in front of him, and the blur of the forest around them.
At this rate... No, one of them would die.
Kohaku straightened his spine and lowered his hand, letting the sword slip from his fingers and land on the ground. A smile perked across Sawyer’s lips. Kohaku breathed deep, focusing on when the next attack would come. Bloodshed wasn’t the answer to this challenge.
Sawyer dashed at him again. Glossy blue discs gleamed brightly as they came closer. At once it was all Kohaku could see when the pain struck his chest, knocking all the air from his lungs. He gasped in a breath, fingers twitching upon Sawyer’s hand.
Sawyer froze in his arms. The skin underneath his was cool to the touch but lively. The heartbeat there spoke Sawyer was alive, but there was something else too. A hard lump jutted from Sawyer’s gloved mechanical hand. Kohaku focused closely, spotting a surge of red coming from the inside, of not blood but brighter like the glow of his blight.
“K-Kohaku?” The name spoken from those lips made his heart pang.
He glanced up into those eyes—the glow now fading away to reveal the man’s normal, beautiful iris’. “Sawyer?”
Pain lurched through his entire body with the sudden realization of what happened. He glanced between them, spotting the blood soaking through his tunic. Stepping back, he felt the burn of the metal blade retreat from his body just then. Blood dripped from his side; nausea swarmed through him and he crashed to his knees.
“Kohaku!” Sawyer dropped his sword and bent down, the curse seemingly all but gone. “W-what happened? Are you... Did I...”
Blood stained Sawyer’s hand and arm where he’d gripped the sword, now laying at his feet. Dizziness swept through Kohaku; the sky and green sea of trees all swirling around his vision.
“It’s...” The word spilled off his tongue as he pressed his hand to his side. Wetness there spoke the truth—Sawyer had done this. “How it ends.”
“No!” Sawyer wrapped his arms around Kohaku, trying to heave him off the ground. “It’s not! It’s never over. Not like this.” Moisture soaked through Kohaku’s sleeve and it took a moment to realize it was Sawyer’s tears penetrating through his tunic.
His vision darkened even more. Perhaps it was best this way. He’d no match for such a spell; couldn’t help to control it. Nor could he stop Sawyer from following the advice of such a strange man called Shusen. Though one thing he knew for certain, his heart wouldn’t stop skipping as Sawyer held him still. As love it truly once was, now lost to this world’s evils.
“It’s him!” Fithel’s voice flitted through his mind. “He’s controlling Sawyer!”
Footsteps followed; an inky silhouette strode out from between the trees. “Yes, such a miserable sight to see two lovers separated by such fate.”
Kohaku sucked in a breath and dared to spot this unwelcome intruder. In the darkness, it was difficult to make anything out until a sudden red glow illuminated his hand, sending shadows scrawling over his face. The strange painted mask with multi-colored streamers and long hair jutting out from the man’s head... he could only be...
“You!” Fithel yanked his sword out from his scabbard. “Son of a bitch!”
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” The man held up the red stone. “You see, I hold the power to control your friend’s every move.”
Sawyer’s warmth disappeared from around Kohaku as he stood up. “Damn it, Shusen. You tricked me.”
“Did I? You wanted control. I gave you that. Have you ever been in so much control of Kladus’ curse since I embedded the stone within you?”
Sawyer bent down to retrieve his sword. “But it was all your doing, not my own—”
“And so is the only way to direct such power within you, Sawyer,” Shusen said, holding out the stone.
The beautiful red, shining stone reminded Kohaku of something, yet he just couldn’t put his finger on it. He’d seen nothing like it before in his life, but he knew it. Recognized it... somehow. “The... the fire agate stone!” he gasped.
“Yes, summoner.” Shusen tipped his head. “Strange how it’s necessary for many things: for your dragon and to conquer such magic running through your lover’s veins.”
Kohaku wished he could move, but as he tried to adjust his legs, the pain seized his body, zapping his energy and he crashed to the ground again. Damn this. He held his palm to the blood-soaked wound at his side.
Suddenly, Fithel brushed past him with a growl. He darted around Sawyer and toward Shusen. “It’s ours now!” he hollered as he swung his sword. Something clattered to the ground—such action difficult for Kohaku to see with the dizziness seizing him. The glow of the stone still visible, so was Shusen’s fingers gripping it tightly.
But Shusen’s smile was gone. A scream shredded the air like thunder. “You... how could you?”
Kohaku squinted, hoping to understand what had happened.
“Serves you right, fiend!” Fithel bent down to pick up Shusen’s mangled arm—the fingers flexed around the stone.
“It won’t be so easy for you!” Shusen grumbled.
As Fithel attempted to seize the stone from the trembling fingers, Sawyer stomped up behind him.
“No, Fithel!” Kohaku yelled out, his voice barely there from the hurt.
Sawyer swung his sword, piercing across the full length of Fithel’s back. The elf straightened in shock, his tunic tore easily under the weight and sharpness of Sawyer’s steel. Blood splattered against the ground.
He’s still controlled by him... damn it! Kohaku turned his head as Fithel screeched in pain.
The area returned to a deathly silence, then just as suddenly, a laugh took its place. “Seems I’ve no use for any of you,” Shusen’s voice thundered over the trees.
Kohaku dared to peek. Shusen’s arm was gliding across the ground with the stone in its hand back to its owner. Shusen bent to retrieve it. “Worthless... all of you. Best yet, I shall take my fury out on the castle, seeing as there is no army worthy of defending it.”
“No!” Kohaku gathered up his strength. “You...” He tried to stand, his legs cold and shaky.
“Don’t even bother, summoner. It seems your time is up,” Shusen said before starting a chant. “Newevere isla ne tu...”
Kohaku recognized such language, if not the words, then the tone. That spell Shusen was casting was no spell at all. He fell back to his knees as he watched and listened for whatever it was to come from Shusen’s magic.
What followed next made him shiver. A growl echoed from up above the land, followed by a noisy and persistent flapping from a creature
much larger than a bird. The shadow was massive, flying overhead.
“A... a dragon?” Kohaku stuttered. It’d been decades since he’d seen Malrith fly such as that; never thought it possible to witness another beast so high in the air.
“You must think only summoners have the power to control one.” Shusen raised his hands in the air, signaling his whereabouts to his beast. It lingered closer, the trees arching to allow its descent toward the ground, but it didn’t land.
Shusen hovered above the ground, flying himself until he was close enough to his dragon to straddle its neck.
“Get...” Kohaku struggled to stand once more, finally picking himself up, though wobbly and unsure. “Back here! This... we’re not finished!”
But as he yelled straight into the air, the beast flapped his wings—the breeze brushing Kohaku’s messy hair across his shoulders—and Shusen was gone. Damn it all! Kohaku glanced out at Sawyer standing in front of him, and further beyond, Fithel still knelt in a ball with his head on the sandy ground.
“S-Sawyer.” Kohaku stepped closer.
Just when he thought the spell would never subside, Sawyer’s hand twitch. He tipped his head. “Kohaku? What happened?”
“He’s gone. Shusen...” Kohaku motioned toward the sky. “He’s gone to destroy the castle.”
At last, Sawyer turned to face him. The azure glow had dissipated and left him pure and natural if not a bit phased. “Then... what happened earlier was...” Sawyer focused on the bloody stain streaking across Kohaku’s tunic, his body trembled. “By the Maker, forgive me.”
“It hurts, but I’m alive.”
Sawyer glanced back at Fithel, who hadn’t moved an inch after the attack. “And...”
“Your sword shall cut anyone who gets in the way... But he is alive.” Or so Kohaku had hoped.
“Then, I really did cause a lot of trouble. I’m... nothing but a nuisance.”
“No, we must remove that stone before he can control you again.”
Sawyer raised his arm and yanked off the glove covering his mechanical hand. Just as expected, the tiny piece of fire agate stone was embedded between the gears, not so much to prevent him from moving his fingers. But if they tried to pry it out, it might ruin his hand permanently.
“I should have known.” Sawyer’s voice cracked as he thumbed across the stone’s smooth surface. “He was nothing but—”
“No more doubt.” Kohaku laid his hand upon Sawyer’s. “What is done, is done.”
“I could’ve killed you. It is not done... I...” Sawyer jerked away from Kohaku, suddenly prying at the stone stuck between the gears with his fingers. “I don’t care if I can’t control the curse, as long as I don’t hurt anyone. As long as this thing is gone. As long as he is gone...”
Kohaku stepped back, watching as the glow of the stone faded the more Sawyer pulled and tugged it out. The components of his mechanical hand cracked, a spring fell to the ground. It’d taken a long time to find someone skilled enough to build just a device for Sawyer. To let it all go to waste like this was insane.
As he did often when worried, Kohaku gripped the talisman around his neck tight. The spell words to summon Malrith fluttered across his thoughts. He did not need to speak them, but...
Just then, the stone’s glow flickered again.
Sawyer stopped his inconsistent pulling. Something shattered, roaring across the quiet air. The stone rose out from the mechanics and hovered just above Sawyer’s hand, the light from it brighter now. Twinkling.
Kohaku moved his hand away from his necklace in awe. The stone, the pendant, reacted together.
“Malrith...” Kohaku breathed, then the set of words he’d spoken so many times in the past flitted through his thoughts. He whispered them aloud, fisting his hands at his sides, hoping it would work.
Just as Kohaku finished the last syllable, the necklace pulled against his neck as the stone shimmied closer towards it. And in a flash, the push of power against him knocked Kohaku off his feet. The fiery red dragon’s armor built around his body in its ordinary custom, yet there was something different.
A growl raged above them. No, all around them. A familiar voice it was; Kohaku hadn’t heard that crackly, ominous tone in so long. When he glanced up above his head, the red figure disappeared behind the trees.
“Summoner, you have found my great source of power. The missing stone,” Malrith’s voice grumbled from somewhere in the forest.
“Malrith!” Kohaku hollered breathlessly. “Where are you?”
A brush of wind swept Kohaku’s messy hair around his face, shielding his view for seconds before he could clear it away.
“I am here.” Malrith’s voice was closer. So was his heavy breath, recognizable only from memory of when he blew that powerful heat against Kohaku so long ago. “And thus, you have gained my full support, at last, my summoner.”
Kohaku couldn’t believe it. Flying high above the trees was his immense, fleshy beast. Seemingly larger than ever before and definitely alive and well. After so many decades of searching, of hoping he could summon his dragon again, Malrith had finally come back to him.
“So that’s why the queen suggested we find a fire agate stone,” Sawyer said, voice trembling.
Kohaku picked himself up off the ground and stepped towards Malrith. “Is it true? And now when I call upon you—”
“You will have both my armor and services. It is a true summoner’s calling. I will fight alongside you, forevermore.” Malrith lowered his head, and Kohaku remembered the prideful beast once refusing his help when he was a child.
“And your services are,” Kohaku gasped. “May I ride you?”
Malrith tipped his head in agreement. “I am yours to command, summoner.”
“Will you ever call me Kohaku, instead?” He reached out slowly, hoping to touch Malrith, to feel his scaly skin underneath his fingertips.
Malrith blew a breath of hot steam from his nose, and Kohaku side-stepped away. “It is not like I accept all of this, yet. I am your beast, and you are my master. We are not comrades.”
“Yes, I understand.” Kohaku sighed. It was probably for the best after all—the dragon was hesitant to accept him for years. How could he expect to suddenly have his trust now? “With him, we can return to Anscien before Shusen destroys it all.”
Sawyer took a hesitant step closer. “If he hasn’t already. Malrith, is it?” And Malrith raised his head to acknowledge Sawyer. “You will let us ride?”
“Yes, my summoner.”
“Then, let’s hurry back.”
Kohaku reached up, grabbing Malrith’s long talon, and the dragon helped him up along his scaly skin. It was difficult, he’d have to get the hang of it if he ever wished to ride correctly, but for now, he’d straddle Malrith like a horse and hoped his dragon didn’t mind the awkwardness too much.
Just as Sawyer had grabbed the side of Malrith’s wing, he stopped and spotted Fithel still knelt silently where he’d suffered Sawyer’s attack earlier.
Blood had soaked fully through his tunic, the slice wound coppery red and peeling from his back.
Sawyer moved away from Malrith toward Fithel. “Dear friend, will you go with us?” He bent down to Fithel’s level.
Kohaku’s heart panged. Could it be that Fithel felt betrayed by such an attack? No, he must have felt betrayed long ago when Sawyer had left to search for him—the summoner in his nightmares. And now that Kohaku understood the elf’s story, he couldn’t help but wonder what kept Fithel around all these years if it wasn’t an obligation to his country.
“Leave me,” Fithel answered at last.
“But—”
“I am no commander, that is for sure. The only place I shall lead my troops is straight to hell if I continue.”
“That’s not true,” Sawyer said.
“Is it not?” Fithel turned, glaring at Sawyer with narrowed eyes. “You know as well as I do the only reason I continued to fight for a country not of my own.”
&nb
sp; “I do...”
“Then, I-I’ll stay here... Sawyer.” Fithel’s voice cracked. Was that sorrow in his voice?
Kohaku wiped a tear from the side of his cheek. He’d wished to say something, anything, but what could be said now that would change the elf’s mind?
“Whether I die or live here, I don’t know, but please do me one good turn,” Fithel said as Sawyer went to step away. “Keep fighting.”
Sawyer paused a moment, his jaw tensing. Once he nodded in agreement, he returned to Malrith. “Always.”
Chapter Sixteen
Castle in Flames
“Keep fighting.” Will you do the same, old friend? Sawyer pressed himself close to Kohaku as the dragon flew quickly over the trees and houses of Qeoca on its way back to Anscien.
He could only hope that would be the case with Fithel, but then after leaving him to his own devices on that lonely beach could beget him of anything. Wounded both physically and emotionally—Sawyer was sure—would leave any man heartbroken, wouldn’t it?
Still, Sawyer had more important matters to tend to. While Fithel must have lost his will to fight for the sake of his kingdom, Sawyer had all but wanted to save his castle. His home, the only one he knew.
“Look!” Kohaku motioned below to the tiny village underneath them. “Is that Raifut?”
Sawyer glanced down but caught his breath before he could be sick. He wasn’t too fond of heights, but being on a flying dragon this high up in the air made his stomach churn.
“Possibly.” He set his attention out ahead of them. A short distance away, he spotted the dull glow of a raging fire. “The castle!”
Kohaku’s body tensed underneath his fingers. “You’re right. Malrith,” Kohaku spoke loudly in the breeze around them. “Can you fly faster?”
Malrith grumbled in reply, his wings flapping higher than before. He was only a colossal beast, best not to rush him, but just as he was asked, Malrith picked up speed. They flew over the forest near the Wyst river then veered off toward the castle. The closer they grew, the brighter the blaze tearing through the skies.
