by Gage Lee
“Taun?” Keelie asked, her voice trembling. “What are you doing here?”
“Saving you,” Taun said, his voice rumbling with power. A wide grin split his face as he kicked another opponent to the ground hard enough to shatter its chest.
“What happened to you?” his father asked, glancing at the scale embedded in Taun’s chest.
“I’ll explain when this is over,” the young knight shouted over the din of battle. He wanted this moment for himself. The dragon could claim its share of glory when the fight had finished.
The tide had turned. Taun fought alongside his family, reveling in the sheer power the dragon had lent him. For the first time in his life, the young knight saw something in his father's eyes.
Admiration.
For a fistful of glorious minutes, the battle raged. The eldwyr tried to rally, but Taun's horrifying arrival had rattled them and they were no match for the power he brought to the battlefield. Swords flashed to hack down the hybrid beasts while Taun ripped others limb from limb. Sap and blood rained down around them, and chips of bark and splintered bone clung to their faces and armor.
And then, the fight was over.
You were a brave host, Taun Koth'tok. I will remember you.
Taun tried to ask the dragon what he meant, but the words wouldn't come. His strength had faded, and his body ached like he'd been dragged behind a horse over a mile of gravel road. The young knight reached out for his father, and darkness claimed him.
TAUN WOKE TO THE SOUND of reverent applause and the cold feel of something hard and unyielding beneath him. His thoughts raced as he took in the scene before him, because none of it made any sense.
His mother and father knelt on either side of a long carpet that ran up the center of the Ruby Blade Keep's great hall. His siblings stood respectfully to one side, their eyes downcast, weapons sheathed while they stood at attention. His father's honor guard, three powerful men and three equally sturdy women, stood on the other side of the carpet with their faces hidden beneath the grim, demonic faces of their ceremonial armor. As Taun's scattered thoughts assembled themselves into some semblance of order, he realized there was only one place he could be sitting: the throne. His first instinct was to bolt off the seat of power and let someone else take the reins. He was only fifteen. The last thing the kingdom needed was a kid with a dragon in his head taking the throne.
Had Axaranth led a coup? Maybe that explained the hooded figure who stood between Taun's parents. And just how long had he been unconscious?
Relax, man-child. You have been unconscious for several weeks. There were matters that needed attending to, so I borrowed your body for a bit. All will be made clear.
“Our physickers have examined the host, mighty Axaranth,” the hooded figure said as he stepped forward. “The human is too weak to remove the soul scale without terminating his life. The Scaled Council has agreed that this shall be done if you request it, but there will be a price to pay. Your host is the child of a valued servant of the Koth clan, and they are entitled to compensation for his loss.”
Taun's mother's knuckles whitened on her knees and her shoulders shook. The young knight wanted to burst off the throne and banish the cloaked man, but he couldn't. Axaranth held the reins on their shared body.
I do not wish your death. Though you are as much a prison to me as a tool, now, it would be unworthy of me to sacrifice you for my own gain. Let me speak.
Taun said nothing, but stopped fighting the dragon. There had to be a way out of this, and the dragon was more likely to find it than he was.
“I have no interest in killing this host, Ambassador Reth,” Axaranth said stressing the hooded figure’s name. Though he used Taun's body, the voice was far deeper than the boy's. “He has served me well, and freed me from my tomb when my own descendants failed to do so for...what year is it now?”
“We are in the summer of year one thousand thirteen, of the Fourth Roil Age.” The figure peeled back his hood, revealing an adult dragon in its human guise. “In our defense, we did search for you, but the wyld had reclaimed your tower and your sendings were—”
A flash of white-hot rage erupted from within Taun. He felt his hands curl around the arms of the throne and the words he shouted scraped his throat raw. “And who among you failed to protect my tower from the slow growth of trees and weeds? Who among you were not sensitive enough to hear my sendings? I lay in that tomb for five hundred years after I woke, messenger. You must be ashamed it was a human who answered my call.”
The man visibly recoiled, the pale skin between the black scales on his face and hands flushing scarlet with shame or anger. The messenger kept his face mostly neutral, but his eyes flashed with a sudden flare of fiery pneuma. He was mad, Taun realized, but far too afraid of Axaranth's power to challenge the ancient dragon.
“You have our deepest apologies,” the hooded figure said. “But the situation is beyond our control and we must make a decision on how to proceed very soon. Your host is weak, and he was damaged by the bonding. If he perishes while your soul scale is attached to him, then we stand to lose your wisdom and power. The empire cannot tolerate this loss.”
Taun searched for some way out of this mess. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with Axaranth in his head, but he also did not want to die. Now that he'd survived the eldwyr attack, the young knight had discovered he wasn't ready to sacrifice himself for the good of the realm. He forced his way past Axaranth's control of his body to make himself heard.
“If the boy were stronger, my scale could be removed?” Taun asked. His voice didn't have the same weight as Axaranth's, but no one seemed to notice.
The black dragon bobbed his head as he considered the question. “Possibly. As you know, humans cannot channel pneuma. When you forced the mystic energy through him, it caused serious damage. Given time he could recover enough to live through the extraction procedure.”
Taun waited for a moment, sure that Axaranth would add something to the conversation. But the ancient creature remained silent. Its thoughts grew still as if it were sleeping.
Or lying in wait.
Whatever the reason, the old dragon had given Taun the freedom to speak for them. That gave the knight an unprecedented amount of power to wield. With Axaranth's authority, Taun could ask for almost anything and the dragon emissary would jump to deliver it. He had to weigh his options carefully.
What Taun really wanted was for everything to go back to normal. He didn't want to host an ancient dragon's spirit in his head. He didn't want to fight eldwyr. He wanted to study with Sage Lantan in the day and work the forge at night.
And why is that?
The dragon's question struck at the heart of Taun's desires. The answer made Taun uncomfortable.
Studying with the Sage helped him get closer to the secrets of pneuma and its mastery. Working the forge made him feel strong and capable, a man who could impose his will over hot steel. Taun had hoped combining those two pursuits would allow him to create something powerful to solve problems bigger than himself.
He shouldn't have been looking for those answers outside himself. Taun realized the answer was in becoming more than he'd thought possible. And now that was a very real possibility. Because there was something the dragons could give Taun that he'd never had any hope of achieving without their help. It was a dangerous request. Even if they granted it, Taun knew his life would be in constant danger.
But he couldn't let this opportunity slip through his fingers. This was his chance to fix all the problems that plagued his family and earn their admiration.
He had to take it.
“If the boy must become stronger to survive the extraction, then it is our duty to make him stronger,” Taun said, imitating the dragon's haughty speech. “He will be trained in the arts of pneuma by the greatest cultivators of dragonkind. Summon them to the Ruby Blade Keep that his studies may begin at once.”
The black-scaled dragon's eyes flickered to meet Taun's for a
moment. He pursed his lips and held himself rigid, as if struggling to contain an emotional outburst. Finally, he bowed his head slightly. “If you wish the boy to be trained, we will accommodate your request. I fear this training will not last long. Humans are frail creatures who lack the strength to harness pneuma. He is far more likely to die during the training than he is to grow stronger.”
Taun opened his mouth to respond, but Axaranth beat him to it.
“I did not ask your opinion,” the dragon's voice boomed through the great hall. “The boy is not so fragile as you think. Summon the tutors. Together, we will train him to become far more than you would ever imagine possible. He will become the greatest power his people have ever known.”
Emissary Reth lowered his head and clasped his hands before him. “It is not my wish to defy your orders,” he said quietly, “but the best of our tutors are not free to come and go as they please. They are oathsworn to train our whelps at the Celestial Academy.”
“If the tutors cannot come here, then my host will go to them,” Axaranth said. “Make the arrangements. I have grown weary of this audience.”
“As you wish,” the black-scaled dragon said. “Time is short, however. The school does not admit new students after the first class.”
“And when is that?” Taun asked.
“Tomorrow morning, at first light,” Reth answered. “I suggest you allow the host to say his goodbyes.”
Chapter 4
THE EMISSARY LEFT TAUN in the audience chamber with his face twisted into a furious scowl. It was clear to everyone that he was not pleased with how his audience with Axaranth went.
They are not fond of humans and dragons mingling. Your presence at the Academy will ruffle many feathers.
Taun didn't care if the dragons got their noses bent out of shape over his demands. He'd saved an ancient dragon from destruction at the hands of the eldwyr. The Scaled Council owed him for what he'd done. Letting him attend their fancy school was the least they could do. He wouldn't let any of the students run him out of there, either.
You are determined. I hope that is enough. For now, though, you should speak to your mother. Her interactions with me have been awkward for us both.
It was easy for Taun to imagine why. His mother was a headstrong woman who protected her children with the ferocity of a mother fel bear protecting her cubs. She would not have cared even one whit that Axaranth was an ancient and powerful dragon. He'd taken over her son's body, and that could not have gone well. Taun saw the scene play out in his head, and couldn't keep a broad smile from breaking out across his face. He stood from the throne and headed down the steps to meet his parents.
“I'm okay,” Taun said to her mother. “And you two need to stand up. It's weird having you bow like that.”
“The dragon,” my mother said as she took Taun's hand and regained her feet, “demanded we kneel before you...him...which is it?”
It was merely for show. Emissary Reth would have been suspicious if they did not show us the proper respect. I could not care less who bows before me. My power is self evident.
“He apologizes for imposing such a demand on you, but believes it was for the best,” Taun said, a little prickly at the idea of Axaranth bossing his family around while he'd been under. “And it will not happen again.”
Taun's father fixed him with a narrowed gaze and set jaw. The young knight had seen this look before, usually when his father wasn't sure how to react to a situation and needed time to think. Finally, after an uncomfortable silence, the older man put a hand on his son's shoulder. “Tell me true: Are you truly Taun Koth'tok, youngest of my sons?”
“I am now and forever, Taun Koth'tok, youngest child of Kaul Koth'tok, honorblade of the Ruby Blade kingdom.”
“And it was you who came to our rescue in the wyld?”
The young knight nodded, but didn't trust his voice. He felt tears welling up in his eyes at the way his father's stern gaze melted into the warm glow of admiration. He cleared the lump in his throat and forced himself to look up at his father without blinking. “I had a little help, but I did fight the eldwyr.”
The ruler of Ruby Blade Keep swept his son into a bear hug and lifted him off the floor. Neither of them said a word as they clung to one another. When the older knight finally put his son's feet back on the ground, his eyes shone with admiration. “Your feats of valor will be sung about for years to come,” Kaul said. “You saved us, son. All of us. We have so much to talk about—”
“And no time in which to do it,” Meris Koth'tok, Taun's mother, said with her usual efficient, we-have-work-to-do tone. “You heard Emissary Reth. If Taun is leaving, it must be soon.”
“I thought we'd lost him,” Kaul said, his voice catching. “And now that he's stronger, there are so many things he can help with. He could single-handedly wipe out a bandit camp. Given time, he could wipe them all out. He can't leave now.”
Taun felt a stab of guilt at the stricken look on his father's face. His family had likely thought him dead, or worse a prisoner to the dragon who wore his skin like an ill-fitting suit of armor, and now that they'd discovered their boy was still alive, he was about to throw himself into the dragon's maw again.
But that guilt didn't last long. His family's keep had problems: a new eldwyr presence, bandits on the roads, falling birth rates, and falling crops. If Taun stayed behind, he'd never figure out how to fix those issues. If he trained with the dragons, though, he'd return stronger and wiser than ever.
“I can help more leaving than by staying,” Taun said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. As powerful as he was, the knight knew he needed more training. He couldn't get that education here. It could only come from the Dragon Academy. “I'm sorry, but Mother is right. It's time for me to go.”
You have made the right choice. We will become stronger than anyone can imagine. And then, my young host, we will solve a great many problems...
Taun didn't particularly care for the dragon's tone when he said that last sentence, but that was a problem for the future. Right now, the young knight knew he had to focus all his efforts on getting stronger, more powerful, so he could harness pneuma and pull his family's keep off the long, downward spiral to doom. This was his chance to earn his family’s respect, and he was not going to let anything stand in his way.
“I always knew you'd surprise us,” Meris said softly. She put a hand on Taun's cheek. “Go and show them what humans can do.”
Taun's siblings crossed the throne room to join the family gathering. Raul threw a fake punch into his younger brother's arm and winced as if it hurt. “Hard as nails. Really wish you'd stick around to show me some of those unarmed fighting tricks, but I know a man on a mission when I see one. Make us proud, little brother.”
Shaus gave Taun a grim nod of his head. “Dragons are treacherous, brother. And like snakes, the youngest ones are the most venomous. Be careful around your new classmates. I'd hate to have to go all the way to your school to beat some dragon tail.”
Taun chuckled at his brother and shook his head. “I'm sure they're all terrified you'll come check in on me, Shaus. I'll make sure you don't have to.”
Shaus nodded again, then stepped back, uncertainty in his eyes. Taun wondered how it must have felt for the knight to be rescued by his youngest brother, a sage in training that no one had ever taken seriously on the battlefield. Shaus's whole world must have been turned upside down in that moment.
Just like mine, Taun thought.
You think you were all disturbed by this? I, Axaranth the Terrible, lord of dragons, roiler of the sea of quiddity, architect of a thousand wonders, had to trap myself in the body of a human boy. Talk to me about your world turning upside down when you change shape.
The dragon did have a point there. They'd all gone through some changes since Taun's fateful encounter in the tomb, but only Axaranth had come back from the dead, sort of, only to find himself a thousand times weaker than he'd been in life. Though Taun was careful t
o keep it to himself, he thought that might be for the best. The young knight could somewhat control the dragon now. He wouldn't have been able to do that if Axaranth were at full strength.
“I never should have told you to become a dragon,” Keelie said with a giggle as she hugged Taun. “You weren't supposed to take that literally, baby brother.”
The family laughed at that. The joke had broken the tension they'd all felt. It was good to relax, Taun thought.
His father, though, clearly felt differently. Kaul watched his youngest child carefully, a mixture of admiration, fear, and uncertainty playing across his features. The lord of Ruby Blade Keep took his son by both shoulders and rested his forehead against the boy's. “Make us proud, Taun,” he said. “But be careful. Come back to your home.”
The way Kaul said that sent a chill down Taun's spine. The air of foreboding clung to the young knight even as the family marched outside to meet with Emissary Reth. There was a threat hanging in the air, but Taun couldn't see it.
Not yet.
EMISSARY RETH WAS WAITING for them in the courtyard. The black-scaled dragon stood still as a statue as the family approached. Taun felt the tension wafting off the dragon like the heat from a forge.
He is backed into a corner. He cannot refuse my request, but he knows the other dragons will be very displeased when he shows up at the Academy with a human in tow.
“You've made your decision?” Reth asked.
“I'll be attending the Academy,” Taun said, his voice bolstered by the dragon's strength. Reth's eyes narrowed, as if the authority in the human's tone caused him physical pain.
“I see you've packed light,” Reth said.
“The Academy provides all a student needs,” Axaranth answered, his voice like a thunderclap from a clear blue sky. “I have said my goodbyes. Let us be off.”
