Ascension

by Michael James Ploof

  It was time to move on, but first she needed to know that Vynessa was all right.

  She donned the armor, and when Johann saw her he shook his head and let out a small laugh. “Even in leather armor, you are beautiful.”

  “I’m leaving in the morning,” she said and hugged him.

  He held her tight, and she fought the urge to kiss him when their cheeks touched. It would be so easy to give herself to him, to marry and try to have children, despite Grimulda’s bleak prognostication.

  He moved to kiss her, and she did not draw away. She pressed her lips to his, closed her eyes, and kissed him deeply. Her passion grew, fogging her mind and enticing her to give in. She felt his passion swell against her.

  Min broke contact and backed away. She looked at the ground and tucked her hair behind her ear, a compulsive action she did when she was nervous.

  “I must go now,” she said. “It is unlikely we shall meet again.”

  “Buy why?” he pleaded. “Why are you so intent on throwing your life away? It is madness to kill the chieftain’s son. Stay here, marry me, and you shall never want for anything as long as you live.”

  “You’re wrong. The fire of vengeance would burn in my heart the rest of my life. I would become a bitter wife, and you don’t deserve that.”

  “Then let me go with you,” he said stoically. “Together we will kill Mazer Vheck.”

  “You are no warrior, Johann.”

  “And you are?”

  “Did you not see me kill the wyvern and rider yesterday?”

  He nodded, conceding the point. “I would go with you if you asked. I would die for you, Min.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She kissed him one last time, touched his cheek lovingly, and turned away. “Goodbye.”

  He grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  “You have to let me go,” she said without looking back.

  “What if I can’t? What if letting you go feels like dying?”

  She glanced at him, and the tears that she saw in his eyes broke her already wounded heart. The urge to stay pulled at her more with every second that passed. She gently removed the hand that held her.

  Min left him there in the bones of her destroyed home. He made no further attempt to stop her, and for that she was grateful.

  No one was on the street, and she Burst quickly and rose through the air. She landed on a nearby roof and sped across it, leaping to another roof with a short Burst. She continued across town, moving from thatched roof to chimney top, along rain gutters and over gargoyles.

  She dropped to the ground a few blocks from Vynessa’s home, a lavish two-story wattle and daub building with an iron gate separating it from the cobblestone street. Not wanting to have to look into the eyes of Vynessa’s parents, she Burst to the roof, then quietly dropped to her friend’s windowsill. A lantern burned inside, and a quick peek revealed Vynessa sleeping soundly. Min lifted the window, careful not to let it creak.

  She slipped inside and whispered her friend’s name, hoping not to startle her. “Vyn, it’s me.”

  Vynessa shot straight up, as though she was waking from a nightmare. “Min!” She threw back the covers, ran across the room, and hugged Min fiercely. “I heard what happened.”

  “I’m all right,” said Min.

  Vynessa held her at arm’s length, looking over her armor and the daggers sheathed at her sides. “You’re leaving.”

  “Come, sit, I’ve much to tell you.”

  Min recounted the last two days, and Vynessa offered her condolences for her father. When the subject turned to Min going after Mazer Vheck, Vynessa was no more happy about it than Johann had been.

  “But you can’t, Min. You just can’t.” Brown ringlets danced on her shoulders when she shook her head. Her green eyes watered, and unlike Min, Vynessa had no qualms about crying. “You may be tall and strong for a woman, but Mazer is a brutal savage. You’ll be killed.”

  “What else is left for me in this world but revenge?”

  Vynessa appeared brokenhearted, and she took Min’s hands in hers. “You have friendship, and now that everyone knows you’re an Unbound, you’ll surely be accepted into the academy.”

  “You didn’t see how the villagers looked at me after I revealed myself. They were more afraid of me than the damned wyvern. I know now that my father was right. The men of the academy will never accept me as an equal, and why would they? I don’t need them anyway. What can they teach me about Bursting I haven’t already learned myself?”

  “Probably a great deal,” said Vynessa. “Why else would they go through four years of schooling? Besides, if you don’t go to the academy, you’ll never become a dragon rider.”

  “Perhaps after I have killed Mazer.”

  “You told me what he said. You know as well as I that if you kill him, you will die too.”

  “That’s a chance I’m going to have to take,” said Min. “It felt good to avenge my father. Killing the wyvern, killing the rider…. It was—” Min shook herself out of it. “I will avenge my mother if it is the last thing I do.”

  “But why now? Why such haste?”

  Min didn’t have a quick answer for that, but she realized killing the wyvern and rider had changed her. She’d felt as powerful as when she’d learned she was an Unbound She felt unstoppable. “I just feel like it’s time,” said Min.

  “Stubborn, stubborn Min. You fill me with so much worry.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  They hugged, and when they parted, Vynessa sniffled but tried to smile. “If I cannot change your mind, then at least let me help you. You must be famished. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Vynessa left the room and quietly moved down the hall after closing the door behind her. Min went to the window and looked at the full moon. The night was pristine. The breeze blowing in through the window was cool and crisp, with no smell of smoke or death. She breathed deeply of the spring air, closed her eyes, and let her mind drift.

  Vynessa returned with an armload of food and a pitcher of water. “Sit and eat and later I redress your wound.”

  The smell of food made her realize just how hungry she was. She gladly sat on the bed and riffled through the basket of food. There was half a loaf of bread, two roasted chicken thighs, white cheese wrapped in cheesecloth, and two apples. She dug into the chicken and tore off a chunk of bread, nearly choking when she tried to swallow too fast.

  Vynessa poured her a glass of water and handed it to her, then she simply sat and stared, watching her eat.

  “Why do you gape at me so?” Min asked despite having a mouth full of food.

  “I don’t know when I’ll see you again, and I never want to forget what you look like.”

  “You’re being overdramatic,” said Min.

  “Am I? Isn’t there anything I can say that will change your mind?”

  “No, but you can stop acting like I’m doomed. I might kill him and live to tell about it, you know. I killed a wyvern and its rider, after all.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about the time you sailed with your family to Bai Island.”

  “You love that story. Why?”

  “Because it’s about the wider world.”

  Vynessa recounted the tale as she cleaned and redressed Min’s injury. Min ate her fill. When the story ended and she was done eating, they lay their heads on the pillow and talked long into the night about their childhood together, and how life had a tendency to turn out to be anything but what they had imagined in their youthful innocence.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms, and it was the best night of rest Min would have in a long time.

  An hour before the sun came up, she kissed her sleeping friend on the cheek and slipped out the window. She hated goodbyes, and she couldn’t bear to say the words to Vynessa, for she knew her friend would beg her to stay, and Min was afraid she might be able to talk her into it.

  From the windo
w ledge, she Burst up to the roof and walked the peak. There was a long line of horses coming into town from the northwest, which concerned her. She Burst across the street to a row of buildings, moving across them like a cat on the prowl until she was at the north gate. She crouched atop the roof of a three-story building and tried to make out the banners carried by the newcomers.

  When she saw an emblazoned dragon set against a full moon, Min gasped. There was also the royal banner of King Garrand and that of Emaris, Findara, and Azura, the three countries that made up Thrine. A wagon and seven soldiers in the procession moved down the hill toward the gate, but the banner told her that there would be another.

  Her eyes caught movement and veered skyward, and Min took in a shocked breath when she noticed a dragon gliding high above. She slunk into the shadows, worried the rider upon the majestic beast’s back might have seen her.

  The eastern horizon began to glow light blue. Roosters were crowing in the streets and the farms that surrounded the village, but there was hardly a soul about. That all changed when the bells on the gate and all along the battlements tolled, harkening the arrival of the rider.

  Min had only ever seen a dragon and Unbound rider once, three years ago, when one had come to entertain the village during the spring celebration. Her father hadn’t wanted her to go, but he’d given her leave after she begged him for an entire day and half a night. She’d attended the performance with Vynessa and Johann, and they’d been delighted by the rider’s aerial display.

  The Unbound Dragon Riders wore elaborate cloaks that attached to their ankles and wrists, and when they leaped from the backs of their mounts, the cloaks filled with air, allowing them to glide like a bird. The most impressive part was when they inevitably ran out of wind and descended to the ground. With a great Burst, they would shoot back up into the air, able to once again glide on the warm currents.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the dragon flying overhead. The emotion was part terror and part adulation. For Min had battled a wyvern, the cousin of dragons, and she knew now the terrible power they possessed. Still, she longed for the day she would fly among the clouds on such a magnificent beast, and guide his vengeful dragon fire.

  But of course that day would never come. She knew that now. If her villagers wouldn’t accept her, she knew complete strangers, most of which were devout Kruthians, never would.

  The dragon dropped behind the buildings near the village square, and she Burst from her hiding place and hurried over to see. When she arrived, she hunkered down behind a gargoyle on the counting house, half of which had been destroyed in the recent attack by the rogue knight. From her perch, she watched the rest of the entourage file in. Villagers began to gather, and they cheered the arrival of the Unbound rider and the knights of Thrine.

  The rider wore the cloak of the Unbound, which was black with short dragon feathers attached to the edges, giving him a majestic, mystical appearance. His hair was as black as his cloak and pulled back into a tight braid down his back. Even from a distance she could see his chiseled chin, proud nose, and dark eyes.

  He slid off his mount as the enamored villagers gathered around and scanned the crowd with slow purpose.

  “I am Commander Ryker! I have come to offer the condolences of King Garrand! Know that the attack on this village by the Arzzek dragon rider will not go unpunished. Rest assured your protection is our deepest concern. Three more Unbound riders fly here as we speak, and a legion of one hundred of the kingdom’s finest soldiers will be here by the end of the day. They shall remain as long as necessary.”

  Many in the crowd let out exclamations of gratitude, others—specifically the young men in the crowd—offered their service to the crown and insisted they join the Royal Armed Services. Their eyes burned with the fire of vengeance, their youthful minds bent on glory. They had all lost someone they knew or loved, and their voices cracked when they vowed to give their lives to the cause. Others demanded to know if they would be reimbursed for their losses. These were mostly shop or pub owners whose places of business had been obliterated by the wyvern.

  “Min knew that if her father were alive, he would be insisting the King reimburse him for his losses. His entire fortune and Min’s inheritance had gone up in that pyre, yet Min remained silent in the shadows.

  “I am also here to speak with the Unbound who reportedly defeated the dragon and rider,” said Ryker.

  The crowd went silent, then hushed murmurs swept through the village square.

  “Will the hero step forth? The king wishes to speak with you personally.”

  The king? Min’s mind raced. Why would he want to talk to her? Fear swept through her. What if they wanted to lock her up? What if the idea of a female Unbound was an insult to the king? He was Kruthian, and their holy book said the Unbound represented the Son of God.

  Not the daughter.

  Just as her father had warned, her power was a direct contradiction to the word of God. While not everyone in Thrine was a Kruthian, the king and 50 percent of the population were.

  “Does no one know the whereabouts of this person?” the rider asked with some annoyance.

  “Her name is Min Varresh!”

  Her heart sank. It was Johann, and he was approaching Ryker.

  “Her name?” said the rider, amused. “Surely you are mistaken.”

  “I am not mistaken. The villagers who saw her kill the attackers can back up my claim. Min Varresh, daughter of Eddick Varresh, defeated the wyvern and rider of Arzzek.”

  “If what you say is true….” Ryker scanned the rooftops. Min ducked back behind the large gargoyle, feeling naked. “Where is she? Why does she not come forward?”

  “She is afraid she will be shunned, scorned, because she is a female Unbound.”

  Ryker laughed nervously. “Good sir, there has never been a female Unbound. The power is bestowed upon men, as it was to the Son of God, Igarrus the Unbound.”

  “I’m telling you the truth,” said Johann. “It is not up to me to make sense of it, for I am not Kruthian. I only came forward to provide a public record that Min Varresh is indeed Unbound, and she used her powers to defeat the wyvern. She does not come forward because she fears that to do so might put her in danger. The people of Riverrun will not allow the knowledge of her existence to be lost. I will ensure that she is not abused by those who would take her existence an insult to their beloved doctrine.”

  “Surely you are not insinuating that any ill fortune would befall her should she step forward?” said Ryker.

  “Can you promise that it will not?”

  Min realized he had given her the only protection he could, by bringing to light her name and her fears, making sure she could not be erased easily.

  Ryker unsheathed his blade, and some of the more faint-hearted villagers wailed or cried out in surprise. To his credit, Johann did not flinch. Ryker drove the sword into a cobblestone, splitting it with a metallic shriek. Then he took a knee.

  “I, Ryker Ky Arryn of the Unbound Legion, do swear that this woman, Min Varresh, shall suffer no ill fortune. I swear my life on it.” He stood.

  “Thank you,” said Johann. “Let me show you what’s left of her home.”

  Ryker started down the street. Johann glanced right at where Min was hiding. For a fleeting moment, they made eye contact, and he mouthed one word to her.

  Run!

  Chapter 6

  Min didn’t know why she did it, but when Johann told her to run, she immediately Burst from her hiding place, glided up to the rooftops, and hit the shingles running. She sped across the peak of a long inn, reached the end, and Burst with all her might. The leap took her clear over two houses, but she was coming in too fast toward the side of the bell tower and instinctively Burst again, which took her even higher. Paddling her arms, she skimmed the peak of the tower, slid down the side, and leaped off the gutter. She cried out in terror as she fell to the street. She Burst again when she was five feet above the ground and leveled out, th
en she let herself fall. She landed on her good leg, rolled, and got to her feet.

  Those few who saw her regarded her with surprise as she ran past, but she never looked back and didn’t stop running until she was far from the village and had made it to the distant tree line.

  She slumped against the thick base of an oak tree, panting, and glanced over her shoulder at the village gate, then the sky. No one pursued her, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t soon be looking. She had gone north when she should have headed south to the docks. It was much faster to Seadryk Island by water, and the fishing and merchant boats would be setting out with the rising of the sun.

  She glanced east, where blue sky was quickly overtaking black, and the glow of the new day flirted with Veshkyr’s Claw Mountains. After she had caught her breath, she went east and then south, skirting the village and making her way to the harbor. The place was alive with activity. There were dozens of boats in the harbor, half of which were sunken or charred. Min recognized an Emaris navy supply vessel, for it came in every week to fetch supplies for the thousands of men stationed at the massive port on Southreach, a military island installation a hundred miles south of the mouth of the Findara-Azura River. If she could get to Southreach by way of the navy, she would then find another ship headed east and then north.

  Then again she would be sneaking onto a military ship, and that was the last thing a fugitive from the throne should be doing. She needed a different vessel, one that would take her south and west out of the gulf, and one that—

  The answer to her problem gleamed in the newborn sun. The Azzarra vessel outshone all others with its deep pink sails, carved water-dragon figurehead, and its drastic curves. Ornate runes covered the vessel, burned into the lightly tanned wood, the letters as foreign as the people and their language, which was too fast to Min’s ears. The Azzarra people were beautiful, especially their women, who had a humble grace and inviting mystery.

  As strange as their language was, she had spoken to many of them during her years in the blacksmith shop, and she knew the captain of the vessel preparing to depart. The ship came in three times a year, and the captain’s name was Usha Xin. He was a short man with a deep scowl, and he wore a sword that had seen its share of battle. He was hard but fair, and like all Azzarrian traders, he was most loyal when paid in gold.