The Flame Weaver

by Elicker, Tania

  Kazen flattened himself to the ground and softened his breath, though he was sure it was his pounding heart that would give him away. He watched as Vorath cocked his head and sniffed the briny air. It would only be a matter of time before the dragon would pick up his scent. Slowly, painfully, he backed deeper into the shadow, careful not to stir even a single pebble.

  “Come now, wizard!” Vorath crooned almost sweetly. “You do not need to fear me! Surely, you must know, if I had wanted to kill you, you would already be dead. I have an image to uphold, you see. I couldn’t risk appearing too soft. You can understand that, can’t you? My master has commanded you be brought to him alive! He even confided in me that he wishes you no harm at all! So you see, you have nothing to fear from me! But there are terrible creatures that lurk in the shadows. Come back into the light, where it is safe! You have my word, no harm will come to you.”

  Satisfied with his lie, Vorath propped his head high atop his long neck, listening for any stirring of the shadows. The silent minutes passed, and the dragon’s sinister grin slowly melted into a bitter scowl. Tapping his long talon impatiently on the ground, he suddenly exploded with an infuriated roar. Reeling about in an angry fit, his slender tail whipped from side to side, several times snapping just over Kazen’s head.

  “So, this is it!” Vorath snarled. “You are the mightiest of the mortals? You are as cowardly as all the rest! I wonder if you will whimper and beg like your friends did when they died.”

  Kazen stopped his slow retreat. How could he have been so absentminded? When he first heard mention of the destruction of the hideaway, he gave no thought to the plight of his friends. What if they were in there at the time of the attack? No, he thought. They would have been out looking for him already. Wouldn’t they?

  “Yessss,” Vorath grinned wickedly, as though he could hear Kazen’s troubled thoughts. “I know all about your friends, the wizard, the blade-thrower, and the girl. I can even tell you which one suffered the most, if you like.”

  Kazen clenched his trembling fists.

  “Now,” Vorath hummed, tapping his claw thoughtfully upon his chin. “Which one was it? Ah, yes! The girl! Hair like fire, and skin as pale as the moon. Such a shame, really. As I can recall, it was quite awful, even by my standards. Those smaller demons can be rather nasty, especially how they pick their prey apart so slowly. Bit by bit, right down to the bone. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her screams all they way up here.”

  “Liar!” Kazen bellowed in a blind rage, then, realizing his blunder, he slapped his hand over his mouth.

  Spinning about to the sound of Kazen’s voice, Vorath snickered with satisfaction. “So easily manipulated, like all mortals. I’m afraid your death will be far less notable than the exaggerated legend of your life.”

  Scrambling to his feet, Kazen launched himself into a sprint as Vorath took in a crackling breath. Seeing the flash of flames from the corner of his eye, he dropped to the ground and rolled into a ball. But the flood of fire did not come. Peeking his head out from under his arms, he saw that the flames did not come from Vorath at all, but from another dragon.

  Stealing down from the blackened heavens, flames spewing from its roaring jaws, a great and silver dragon descended. Billows of dust wafted upward as the beast lowered itself gracefully to the ground on enormous flapping wings. Dwarfing Vorath both in size and magnificence, the silver scales of the grand dragon gleamed and sparkled like polished riches. No golden chains, like those worn upon Vorath’s pointed horns, adorned this dragon’s head, perhaps because no treasure set beside such handsome scales could seem more than common trinkets. Its nimble wings hung from its shoulders like royal robes. Its emerald eyes burned with unfathomable wisdom. There was only one dragon in all the world that could hold himself with such nobility.

  “Valduron!” Vorath gasped, bowing his head submissively. “My . . . my king! Forgive me . . . I . . . I thought you were . . .”

  “Dead?” Valduron boomed, holding himself to his full height, which was nearly twice that of Vorath. “As you can clearly see, I live! Though I’m certain you find that fact much to your dismay.”

  “No, my Lord!” Vorath sniveled, his head now completely lowered to the ground. “You must believe me, Sire! The moment I received word of the uprising I was on my way to aid you! That . . . That is when I heard the awful report that you and your family had been killed! I found myself so stricken with grief that I-I—”

  “Silence!” Valduron commanded, snapping his teeth in front of Vorath’s face. “Your claws are buried deep within this treacherous plot, of that I am sure!”

  “Please, Sire!” Vorath begged, huddled into his wings and cringing like a dog. “Whatever rumors you have heard are all lies! I have only ever wished to be a humble servant in your great empire!”

  Valduron silenced Vorath’s sniveling with a roar of fire. Inflating his chest, the dragon king pushed himself forward until he towered completely over the young Vorath. Raising his powerful claw, Valduron swatted the black dragon across the face, hard enough to draw a steady stream of blood.

  “You have brought disgrace to your clan!” Valduron accused. “That I do not kill you now is only out of respect for your father!”

  Sighing with relief, Vorath raised his head. “You are truly a wise and merciful king! That I may live to serve you another day—”

  “Stay your groveling! You are beyond the power of my mercy. Every clan loyal to the monarchy is on their way here at this very moment. I can assure you that your name is very near the top of their list of enemies. If it is a war of dragons you wanted, then it is a war you shall have. These are dark days you and your conspirators have brought upon us. I only hope whatever prize you were promised is worth your life, and the blood of your brothers. Now, go! Warn whatever creature it is you call master that the silver dragons are coming! It makes no matter now.”

  His head pressed to the ground, Vorath hesitantly backed away from the angry king. Stopping only long enough to flash a vengeful glance at Kazen, who had stepped timidly into the faint light, the black dragon hurled his heavy wings above his head and flapped away into the black sky.

  “Valduron!” Kazen cried joyously as he ran to his friend.

  The silver dragon turned and smiled warmly at his old friend. But as he took a step forward his powerful legs seemed to wobble beneath him. His head began to sink, and his knowing eyes grew clouded beneath drooping lids. Another step and a stumble, and the dragon king collapsed to the ground, almost crushing Kazen beneath his massive body.

  “What is it, Valduron?” Kazen begged, wrapping his arms as much as possible around the dragon’s great leg, and then saw the terrible wound on Valduron’s back. It was a gruesome gash, with masses of flesh having been torn from the poor dragon’s neck and shoulder. Clearly, he had been the victim of a vicious assault, and was alive now only by his sheer will.

  “What’s happened to you?” Kazen gasped. “No, never mind that! Don’t try to move, my friend! The . . . The dragons . . . Yes, the dragons! You said they are on their way. They will be here soon! They will know what to do.”

  “It’s too late,” Valduron wheezed, barely able to lift his head.

  “No,” Kazen cried, shaking his head. “You are going to be all right. I . . . I can save you myself! I can use my fire to close the wounds!”

  Valduron nudged Kazen weakly with his muzzle. “I’m dying,” he whispered with a sad smile. “No amount of magic can stop that.”

  Kazen fell to his knees and curled himself up against Valduron’s cool scales. “Do not say that, Valduron,” he whispered through tears. “You are going to be all right. Use your magic. Disappear. I will stay here with you until you are well enough to fly.”

  “I’m afraid my flying days are over. What has been done cannot be undone by any amount of time.”

  Tears flooding down his cheeks, Kazen rested his forehead upon Valduron’s shoulder. “Who did this to you?”

  “The treachery of my e
nemies cuts far deeper than I had ever dared to imagine,” Valduron uttered between painful coughs. “I don’t know how I could have been so blind. This war will tear a permanent rift between the clans. Worse yet, I fear it will bring an end to the age of all dragons.” With a great sigh, Valduron laid his head across his taloned foot and closed his eyes.

  “Valduron?” Kazen sobbed, shaking the dragon’s massive head. “Valduron! Please, don’t go!”

  Moaning softly, the dragon king opened a sleepy eye and smiled kindly at his young friend. “I’ve lived a long life, Kazen. My time has come. All things, even dragons, must turn to dust one day.”

  “I don’t understand why this has happened,” Kazen sniffled, stroking Valduron’s scaly face. “You are the bravest and strongest creature to ever walk this world. If you cannot survive it, how can any of us?”

  “You are stronger than you know,” Valduron mumbled between gasps for air. “Just remember why you are here.”

  With a final fall of his chest, the great dragon king rolled onto his side and closed his weary eyes. His shimmering silver scales faded to a dull gray as the dragonfire, which had burned within his chest for countless ages, was at last extinguished.

  A mournful wind, carried from the crest of the black sea, passed over Kazen like a breath of ice. With a hand on his fallen friend’s head, he crumpled limply to the ground, his eyes fixed on the churning swells of shadow. No longer did the darkness hold him in fear and anguish. He had been stripped of everything. There was nothing more to lose, and so nothing more to fear. The once sinister shadow had become nothing more than an empty void. Let the demons come. Let them devour his body, and end his pain. He would welcome the numbness of death.

  Burying his face in his hands, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the growing pain that pounded in his head. Every inch of his body ached. From his wrists and hands, which had become so swollen from his restraints that he could barely hold his sword, to the countless bruises and gashes that scarred every exposed bit of flesh, he was a complete wreck. His throat burned with thirst, and his heart ached from grief, but mostly he was exhausted.

  Tucking himself into a tight ball, he used Valduron’s immense body to shield himself from the icy wind, which rolled up from the black valley. But neither the cold, nor the likely threat of being discovered could keep his weary eyes open.

  He did not know how long he had been asleep, or if he had even slept at all, when he was roused by the sound of shuffling feet. Exhausted and weak, he halfheartedly pulled himself to his knees and crawled back into the cover of shadow. Curling up on the jagged stones, he watched through bleary eyes as a handful of skulking figures emerged from the darkness. Like thieves in the night, they crept on pointed toes, circling the fallen dragon. Angry tears flooded down Kazen’s face as the shadowed figures swarmed over Valduron’s body like flies on carrion, probably scavenging for scraps of silver or gold.

  Grinding his fists into the ground, Kazen screamed inside his head, wishing away these villains who would dishonor all that was left of the most noble king of dragons. His good sense overcome by rage, he took up a handful of stones and hurled them blindly at the dark figures. Reeling on their heels, the startled men readied themselves with sizeable swords and finely honed daggers. Wringing the hilt of his own sword tightly between numb fingers, Kazen forced himself to his feet. Not caring for life or death, he staggered weakly into the dim light, flailing his blade recklessly from side to side. The pack of men rushed him, and Kazen prepared himself to feel the cold stab of steel in his chest. Instead, he was quickly surrounded and swept up in their open arms.

  “Kazen!” cried a familiar voice.

  Through blurry eyes, Kazen strained to make out a recognizable face in the crowd that now hovered around him. “Ilagon?” he uttered faintly.

  “Yes.” Ilagon smiled gratefully as he laid Kazen down on the ground and put a tender hand on his head. “I am here.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Kazen said, holding back a flood of tears.

  “You gave us quite a scare, as well,” Ilagon replied.

  “Indeed, you did.” Shanks grinned and ruffled Kazen’s hair. “I’m beginning to think you might be more trouble than you’re worth.”

  Kazen turned his head to a soft touch on his hand. Even through the weary haze that had settled over his eyes, he could not mistake E’enna’s gentle presence. From behind the black soot and smudges of dirt that marked her pale skin, her eyes glistened with pools of unfallen tears. Strands of unruly hair brushed across her face as she knelt without a word beside Kazen.

  “I’m sorry I acted like such an idiot,” Kazen whispered weakly.

  “So,” she said, smiling softly, “it’s been an act all this time, has it?” Lying down beside Kazen, she rested her head on his shoulder and laid a gentle arm across his chest. Taking up his hand, she interlaced her fingers with his and whispered softly into his ear. “It’s time for you to rest, now.”

  Surrendering himself to the warm radiance that slowly encompassed his body, Kazen closed his eyes and fell asleep in the comfort of a healer’s arms.

  Chapter 26

  The next time he opened his eyes, it was to a colorless dawn. He rose to the warm embrace of his friends, and the eager greetings of the handful of Halifexians who traveled with them. During the night, while he slept, he had been moved to a small camp set beneath the thin cover of a few hollow trees. Sitting high upon the summit overlooking the long shore, south of the enemy’s encampment, they had a perfect view of Ruin.

  No less menacing in the pale light of day, the black stronghold loomed ever-watchful over the sandy shores. The villainous army, awakened by the hint of day, scuttled to and fro, grudgingly tending to whatever unpleasant tasks their master commanded of them. Most, like laboring ants, toiled over deep trenches torn into the land. With axes and shovels, picks and hoes, they channeled the black ocean into twisting streams, which spread, like bleeding veins, into the far west.

  In the darkest shadows cast down by the keep, countless demons huddled in great masses, writhing and basking in the comfort of the cold darkness. Other demons, winged beasts and slivers of shadow, circled above the stronghold’s tall peaks, showing no fear of the waning rays of light, so tamed by the leaden shadow. The most frightful of the beasts, a demon with a likeness to that of a dragon, only more serpent-like and hideous, perched itself atop the highest column of the stronghold. It launched itself from its post on vast, leathery wings, soaring over the heads of the toiling workers below. Either by its master’s command, or merely to satisfy a ravenous hunger, the beast stretched its terrible talons and plucked a hapless thug right out from the ranks. With a flap of its wings and flash of jagged teeth, the demon ripped the man in two, devouring the remains in as many bites. Below, the savage army cheered and pointed. Laughing heartily among themselves, they exchanged handfuls of golden coins in apparent compensation for some horrific game of odds.

  “It’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen,” E’enna said, stepping beside Kazen, accompanied by Ilagon and Shanks.

  “It will only get worse as the shadow thickens,” Ilagon said. “The darker this world becomes, the more terrible the demons will be who pass through the shadowgate.”

  “Those men.” Kazen shook his head. “Can they not see they are only helping to hasten their own doom?”

  “The glitter of gold in their pockets blinds them to all else,” Shanks sneered.

  Laying a fatherly hand over Kazen’s shoulder, Ilagon looked him over carefully, wiping a smudge of dirt from his brow. “You look little the worse for wear, considering.”

  “It helps to have a gifted healer for a friend.” Kazen shrugged, flashing a grateful smile at E’enna.

  Looking to the ground, Ilagon let a slow sigh pass his lips. “We are all sorry for the loss of Valduron.”

  A sudden flood of grief washed over Kazen, and he too cast his gaze aside. Crossing his arms over his chest, he tried to ignore the sick feeling that sw
elled within him.

  “We have each one of us suffered and felt the pain of loss these last days,” Ilagon said. “And it is a crime that we can afford no time to grieve. But perhaps it is for the best. Sad news may be better shared when the pain is not so near.”

  A sudden flash of light from above drew their attention to the sky. From within the churning shadows, pulsating flares of red and orange radiance rippled across the blackened heavens. Every blink of light was accompanied by a crackling roar, which crumbled the black army to its knees in fear.

  “What is that?” E’enna hollered above the shattering noise, her hands cupped tightly over her ears.

  His face illuminated by the flickering bursts of light, his eyes locked on the sky, Kazen answered in a somber voice. “It’s the dragons.” Even as he spoke, the first of the great silver dragons broke through the veil of shadow, orange flames spilling from its open jaws. “They are here for their war.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere!” Shanks rumbled enthusiastically. “What are they waiting for? Let them lay waste to this rubble so we can all be done with it!”

  “Even the dragons cannot stop an endless tide of demons,” Ilagon stated.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kazen said. “They are not here to stop the spread of shadow. They have come only to wage war upon the black dragons, and have no care for the plight of mortals.”

  “Well, that’s a fine thing!” Shanks huffed. “In that case, I won’t pity them for having chosen such a poor battleground on which to wage their war. I have a feeling the demons that dwell in these lands will not be quite so impartial as they.”

  “It makes no difference now,” E’enna groaned. “The entire horde is on alert! If there was any chance of getting into that stronghold with our heads still attached to our shoulders, it is gone now. Already the men scatter and take up arms. Every entrance is sure to be well guarded.”