by Lily Graison
The wyvern hovering above the arena screeched out a deafening, high pitched roar. Toren never blinked, she wasn’t even sure he was breathing as he watched her.
“Draegon, the rules for this fight are simple.” The announcer’s voice held a note of laughter as he spoke now. “Kill the three wyvern who volunteered to battle you and you may keep your mate. Fail, and she, along with your hoard, will be given to the victor. The fight begins the moment you shift and bring forth the dragon.”
Sara jerked her head up, looking at the three wyvern, then back down to Toren. Could he take on three at once? He smiled at her, his limbs growing as he said, “I will come for you, my Sarra.”
His dragon burst into life and she realized as he stood there in the ring how much bigger he was than the wyvern. He was longer from head to tail, his mass bulkier. The dragon’s purple eyes lowered to look at her, a huff of warm air ruffling her hair before he turned and jumped into the sky, his wings lifting, then lowering, as he climbed. As he reached the altitude the three wyvern were, he reared back, his chest puffing out before he roared, a blast of fire painting the sky in bright red and orange.
The three wyverns belched out their own blasts of fire but they weren’t nearly as massive. The flames burnt out quickly, their color a watered-down version of Toren’s. “They have fire.”
“Some of us do. Not all.”
Sara stilled as the wyvern who still held her whispered the words close to her head. He took a step closer, her hair shifting as he lowered his head and said, “Those are the three strongest. They’re generals in our chain of command. The rest of us no longer produce fire. They took the ability to do so from us.” She tried to turn her head to look at him but his hold tightened. “Don’t move. And do not speak to me. They’ll kill us both.”
Was he friend or foe? Sara did as he said and didn’t try to move again but her mind was racing at the possibilities that one of these enforcers could tell her what the others would not.
“If Toren wins, will they let us go?” His hand around her throat tightened but he said nothing. His silence was answer enough. Sara stared at the sky, watching as one of the wyvern clamped taloned feet onto Toren’s wings. He roared, fire filling the sky as he turned to shake the one on his back off.
The fight was a rolling mass of fire and burnt flesh, roars, and loud screeches filling the air. All four of them clashed at once. Toren tumbled, falling a great distance before he twisted and got his wings raised enough to regain his altitude. Sara released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding as he engaged the other three again.
Toren had the others in size but with every passing moment, Sara realized it may not matter. Three against one was shitty odds regardless of how you looked at it and as the wyvern kept attacking, and Toren kept falling, dread filled every inch of her body.
They dove back in together as Toren reached them. He blew another jet of fire at the wyvern in front of him and when it swept back away from him, Toren turned suddenly, catching the one to his right off guard enough to sink clawed feet into his belly, for his fangs to dig in deep into his throat. A screeching roar and the flap of faltering wings as they both fell toward the ground was followed by a spray of blood as the wyvern’s throat was ripped out. Toren let go and its massive body began to fall, half of the orbs following him down, the others swarming in around Toren.
The wyvern’s body hit the ground just beyond the arena walls. Toren shot back into the sky, the two remaining wyverns roaring as they once again attacked. For a small eternity, Sara watched the sky with everyone else, the battle taking place overhead too riveting to look away from. Several spots on Toren’s blue hide was singed black from the wyvern’s fire. One of his wings looked as if it was split on the left side, his ability to stay aloft affected by it. As they all three clashed again, all three of them spewing fire, one of the wyverns started to tumble. His scales were so dark it was hard to tell if he’d been burned enough to kill him but as he continued to fall, his wings flapping uselessly in the wind, she got her answer. He disappeared into the trees, the orbs following before shooting back into the sky a moment later.
Toren and the remaining wyvern flew in a wide circle over the arena. They were closer to the ground than they had been, their wings not lifting as high or fast as before. Sara figured fatigue had a lot to do with that. They’d been aloft for a long while.
The wyvern made the first move. He spewed fire in Toren’s direction, her blue dragon rearing back, his left wing faltering enough his entire body shifted. It was enough for the wyvern to get close, to sink claws into Toren’s hide and Sara gasped as they started to fall, their massive bodies rolling through the sky. They both roared, fire blazing into the others face until Toren suddenly stopped. His wings fell loose at his side, his head falling back, and Sara bit her lip to keep from screaming.
Fire spewed into the sky above them as the wyvern roared at his sudden victory. Their descent back to the ground was fast and every ounce of energy Sara had died in an instant as she watched them fall. Her knees went weak and the wyvern at her back, his hand still around her throat, was the only thing keeping her from falling to the platform.
She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the wyvern continued to roar, the sound of his continued spray of fire echoing across the sky as she wondered what would become of her now. Several gasps were loud enough she opened her eyes again, blinking into the sun as she looked up at Toren and the wyvern in time to see her blue dragon open his mouth and bite into the wyvern’s throat. The wyvern’s roar turned into a shriek of pain, blood pouring into the air and coating Toren’s muzzle as he moved his head back and forth, his legs pushing against the wyvern to knock him away.
The wyvern tumbled, his wings flapping uselessly before they went slack, its body rolling in on itself a bit before falling. Toren stayed aloft as the wyvern fell, lifting his head to roar, fire bleeding across the sky in a shower of orange and red. Sara laughed, a choked burst of sound as Toren’s wings folded into his sides and he dove to the ground. He was coming for her, could tell by the way his front legs extended. She tried to move away from the wyvern at her back but his hold tightened.
“Let me go,” she yelled.
The two wyvern at the edge of the platform both turned as one, each of them lifting the long metal cylinders she knew was a weapon. Toren’s roar was deafening. He hovered above the arena, the wind stirred by his wings enough to send dirt flying into the air.
Chapter Eighteen
They surrounded Sarra, their weapons pointed at her and if he knew he wouldn’t harm her or the other females in the cages, he’d fire the entire structure until it was nothing but burning cinders.
His body ached and staying aloft was more effort than it should have been. So many centuries sleeping in the belly of the ruins had done him no favors. The burns to his body were pulsing with each beat of his heart and as he stared at the scene below, his brain wasn’t functioning enough to think of what to do. How would he get Sarra out of there without them harming her?
The loud booming voice he’d heard earlier blasted from the speakers again. “Draegon, you have won your match. Come claim your prize.”
Would it be that simple? He looked at the wyvern below, at Sarra’s face. If he swooped down to get her, there would be no stopping them from firing their weapon on her. He had no choice. He had to land and trust they’d let them go once he did. The only alternative was to leave her behind, which he’d never do.
He swooped down the remaining distance and landed on the hard, packed dirt with a thump. The aliens all along the perimeter of the ring were quiet, the wyvern on the platform with Sarra watching him. His tail thumped the ground as he lowered his head to see Sarra. She smiled up at him, every muscle in his body tensing. He took a step forward and the two wyverns pointing their weapons at her did something, a high-pitched squeal whirring from the shiny cylinders in their hands and an instant later, small red dots appeared on Sarra’s face. He stopped and st
ared at them as the announcer said, “Shift back into your two-legged form, Draegon.”
A wyvern near the cages walked forward, the collar he’d been wearing before held in his hands. They were going to cage him inside his skin again, hold the dragon captive so he couldn’t protect himself or Sarra. Fire licked inside his chest, a growl working its way up his throat as the wyvern approached.
“If you wish to collect your prize, you will shift back to your other form.”
Toren looked around the arena. The wyvern were standing all along the perimeter, each of them with weapons at their side. Sarra was still staring at him, two wyvern pointing their weapons at her, another with his hand banded around her throat. They were still in control and they wanted him to know it.
He lifted his head and roared his frustration into the air, then shifted, the sound ending in a yell he felt clean to his soul. He stood when his limbs were strong enough to hold him and lifted his head to look at Sarra. The wyvern with the collar closed the distance between them and clamped it around his neck. The moment he was collared, he started for the platform.
Sarra tried to pull away from the wyvern holding her but he jerked her back against him, his hold on her neck tightening to the point Toren thought he’d choke the life out of her. Her face turned red, her mouth open as she gasped for air and he yelled her name and ran to the platform.
The wyvern pointing their weapons at Sarra dropped their arms and turned—then lifted the weapons and fired them at him. The impact tossed him backward, his feet flying out from under him. Whatever they shot him with was the same as when they’d shot him in the temple, the same current running through his body and causing every nerve ending to spasm as sparking jolts of pain arced through every inch of his flesh. Sarra’s screams were a soft buzz in the background as pain filled every inch of his body.
He’d hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs and as he stared at the sky trying to catch his breath, the noise around him grew then—Sarra was there. Her hands were on his face, her lips on his skin and his vision blurred as the pain continued to arch through his body.
Sarra’s hand were warm, the scent of fear on her skin enough to make the dragon surge forward. Tears lay heavy in her eyes, large drops gathering on her lashes. He reached up and grabbed her arm. “Don’t weep, Sarra.”
The words made her do just that. She lowered her head to his chest and cried as if her heart were breaking.
All this for nothing?
Sara tried to hold back the tears, but fury raced through her veins. They’d lied, played them for entertainment for the masses who paid to watch and even now, the soft whirring sounds the orbs made were heard as they hovered close by. She lifted her head, peering down at Toren. His eyes were open but just barely. Whatever they’d hit him with left two dark rings on his chest, his breathing labored. She looked behind her to the platform. The two wyvern that shot Toren were now on the ground, their weapons still pointed in their direction. They weren’t going to let them go. She laughed bitterly. For a brief moment, she’d thought they’d won but what a fool she’d been.
She looked at those in the arena. The aliens along the edges of the ring were watching them in silence, the girls in the cages motionless. She looked at them all, meeting as many alien eyes as she could before she yelled, “You’re all nothing but trained dogs for their freak show! How long before they turn on you?” She sat up on her knees and turned her head to look at them. “You think they bring us here and let you fight for us to reward you?” She laughed. “You’re nothing but trained monkeys doing exactly what they want you to do. The moment you are no longer useful, they’ll destroy you, too. He won!” She sobbed, then wiped her face on her shoulder. “He won his fight! Was promised his prize if he did so and the moment he did what they didn’t think he would, they changed the rules and shot him. You think this won’t ever be you? You’re wrong! The moment you get strong enough to defy them, they will kill you!”
The low murmur of voices grew in volume as she reached down and pulled Toren’s upper body off the ground. He was out cold now and still breathing but just barely.
As if a wave washed over the aliens, they all seemed to shift in a slow glide that rippled along the walkway they stood on, their voices growing in volume until someone shouted, “He won his fight!”
That one shout turned into three, then ten and within minutes, the entire arena was yelling, the voices of the aliens rising, demanding to know why Toren had been shot and if what I said was true. Were they the next to fight and gain nothing?
“Silence!” The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers again. “Your place is not to question.”
“And we’ll refuse to volunteer for slaughter if the prize is denied at the end!”
Sara hugged Toren to her as the aliens shouted and yelled at whoever was in control of this arena. The announcer’s voice cut in several times but was overrun by angry shouts. She lowered her head and buried her face against Toren’s neck and smiled. The prisoners were riled. What would those wyvern and the corp who owned this prison do if the very creatures they manipulated for entertainment suddenly turned and bit the hand that fed them?
The yelling continued, the aliens getting more animated by the second. When the shouts were near deafening, the doors near the platform she’d been standing on opened. The same two females that had come to talk to her when they’d been captured and brought to the arena crossed the dirt ring to where they sat. The noise in the arena died instantly when they stopped.
Kalethra and Talryn, if she remembered correctly, stared down at them, their faces blank of any emotion. The tallest of the two, Kalethra, nodded to the wyvern who’d put the collar on Toren’s neck. When he took a step toward them, Sara yelled, “Are you here to spout more lies? To promise us things you have no intentions of giving us?” As she’d hoped, the aliens watching started murmuring again.
The two females representing the corporation glanced quickly around the arena before turning their attention back to her. “Your outbursts are unnecessary.”
“You shooting him was unnecessary!”
Talryn disagreed. “He is dangerous.”
“So are the majority of the other criminals who live here.”
“Not as dangerous as a dragon.”
“Calm yourself,” Kalethra said, looking out at the sea of alien faces staring back at them. “He is only incapacitated.” Her yelled words did little to stop the murmur of voices from the aliens, especially when she nodded to the wyvern standing by them. He reached down, shoved her out of the way, and picked Toren up off the ground and tossed him over his shoulder. Sara screamed “What are you doing?” and jumped to her feet.
“The arena is not the place to discuss this matter.” Kalethra turned and walked back to the doors they’d entered from, Talyrn and the wyvern carrying Toren following behind her. Sara ran to catch up as the alien’s voices began to rise in volume. When Sara reached the door the announcer said, “Let the next fight begin. Select a prize”
Long hallways leading in several directions created a maze Sara knew she’d never find her way out of. The wyvern that had been holding her by the throat on the platform fell into line behind them. Sara still wasn’t sure what to make of him. His face was as stone-cold hard as the others’ were. Why had he talked to her? Told her the majority of the wyvern didn’t have fire anymore? The questions rattled inside her head until the wyvern carrying Toren turned down a hall and entered a room at the end. The others followed and Sara sucked in a breath when she stepped inside.
It was as big as a football field, every surface so stark white it was near blinding. A long table with dozens of chairs around it sat on the right-hand side, monitors by the hundreds filled the entire wall in front of her, every scene playing out on them showed more prisoners, more regions of this strange moon she didn’t even know existed.
Several aliens who looked much like Kalethra and Talryn were seated in front of the monitors, observing everything tha
t was taking place. A larger monitor on the left-hand wall showed the arena she’d spent the last two days in. A new fight had begun. An alien with light blue skin and slightly pointed ears sat watching, a device sticking up from the table in front of him. A microphone, perhaps? Was this guy the announcer?
This was the brain-center of the arena and much of the area. Sara took a few more steps into the room, noting the wyvern carrying Toren laid him down near the left-hand wall. An invisible door opened along the right and two aliens stepped through it. They were tall, six and a half foot if she had to guess. Both wore white robes, their skin golden with long hair to match. If she had to pin a name on them, she’d say they looked like sun gods.
“I am Lathian,” the one on the right said, “and this is Zakcu. We oversee this sector of Prison Moon One.” They moved to the table and pointed to a chair on the opposite side. “Please sit and we’ll discuss your grievance.”
Grievance. Sara snorted. Is that what they were calling this? She looked over at Toren. He was on the floor, crumpled as if he were nothing more than trash to be disposed of. The fact they’d brought him in here was reassuring, though. Why had they not fired those weapons at him until they were sure he was dead?
The burns on his chest from the wyvern fire and the weapons they’d shot him with left his skin black in places, the skin charred. The scrape of chair legs on the floor and someone asking her to sit again finally made her look away.
Sara pulled out one of the chairs and sat. When the others, except for the wyvern still standing over Toren did the same, the sun gods took the chairs opposite her. Sara wasted no time getting to the point. “Why can we not leave?”
