Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons)

by Daniel Arenson

  Issari raised her amulet again, though its light dimmed. Shadows were emanating from Ishnafel, cloaking the room, overpowering the glow of Taal. "I will burn you, Angel. Obey me! I still command Eteer's army." She swept her arm behind her, gesturing at the soldiers who still lived. Tanin stood among them, bruised and bloody but still holding a spear and dagger. "She who rules the military rules the kingdom."

  Angel grinned and licked her chops. "Oh, sweet innocent child . . . I do fear that a new army now sweeps across the city. Listen, child. You can hear them."

  Issari listened and a chill washed her. She heard it. The buzzing rose from outside like a swarm of flies. Human screams rose with the sound. Soon shrieks joined the cacophony, high-pitched and demonic. Inside the throne room, Ishnafel hissed and flapped his wings, rising to hover over the floor.

  "Yes, Issari," Angel said. "The nephilim. The army of the fallen ones. They rise and they are my son's to command."

  Still covered in mucus, Ishnafel opened his mouth, stared at Issari, and spoke in a hiss. "I . . . will . . . reign."

  Issari ran to the window, stared outside, and felt the blood drain from her face. Tanin ran to her side.

  "By the stars," he whispered.

  They covered the city, rising to bustle like flies, creatures born of demons and mortal women. Many covered the city streets, feasting upon the bodies of their dead mothers. There were hundreds. The blood of their mothers still on their lips, they began to crash into homes, tearing into human flesh, feeding, growing larger. People fled into the streets. Walls crumbled. Blood flowed.

  The city fell to darkness, Issari thought. Now it will fall into the Abyss itself.

  She turned back toward her soldiers. "Men of Eteer!" She grabbed a fallen khopesh. "Follow! Into the city!"

  She ran, burst from the doors, and raced down the hill. Her men charged behind her.

  Below in the city streets festered the spawn of demons, a shadow covering the land. More kept emerging, tearing their way out of mortal wombs with claws and teeth, taking flight, ready from their first breath to fight for the Abyss. Upon roofs, streets, and corpses, they turned to stare at the army charging toward them. They leered, tongues unrolling, fangs bright, eyes blazing. The creatures clustered together, and their howls rose, shattering stone. Upon a distant hill, the temple columns cracked and fell. The roof crumbled, and dust rose to hide the sun. The water in the canal boiled and turned red. The beasts beat their wings and flew toward the palace.

  Issari ran, raising her sword. Tanin ran at her side, spear in hand. Behind them ran hundreds of Eteerians, armor and shields dented and dusty, swords raised high.

  Under a veiled sky, upon the foothills between city and palace, the hosts of nephilim and the army of Eteer slammed together with blood, steel, and fire.

  Issari had never been a warrior, but this day her sword drank blood.

  She fought screaming, lashing her blade, cutting creatures down. All around her they swarmed, dipping from the sky, scuttling up streets, leaping from roofs. Her blade flew, digging through their flesh, spilling their entrails. They were the children of mortals, but she felt no pity for them, and she fought not only for Eteer, not only for Requiem, but for all good people of the overground. Tanin fought at her side, spearing the creatures, and around her soldiers cut through the nephil horde.

  "We must fight as dragons, Issari!" Tanin shouted.

  She shook her head. "Not while my people die upon the ground."

  He grunted, shifted, and took flight. "Fly with me in the sky. Only victory matters now, not honor. Fly and blow fire with me."

  He soared, wings beating, into a cloud of nephilim. The buzzing creatures crashed into him, biting his wings. Tanin blasted out flames, torching a cloud of them. His tail lashed. His claws cut into their rotten flesh. They tugged him down, and he crashed onto a roof, cracking the stone, rose again, and blew his fire.

  Issari returned her eyes to her own battle. Her soldiers spread around her, swords lashing, and she swung her blade with them, one of them, their queen of blood and light.

  The nephilim fought back with a fury. Their maws opened wide, tearing off limbs. Their claws drove through armor, piercing the soft flesh beneath. They bit into faces, chewing, eating. The blood of Eteer spilled. And more kept emerging—three, four from a womb, growing with every bite of meat, until a thousand or more flew, darkening the sky, crashing into walls and columns. The city of Eteer fell, roofs collapsing, trapping souls beneath. Dust and blood covered the ruins.

  "Fight for Eteer!" Issari cried. She stood atop a fallen statue, raising her dripping sword. "Rally here, men of Taal, and fight!" She raised her palm, and her amulet blazed into light, raising a pillar toward the sky. "Rally and fight them!"

  Tanin flew down toward her. Soot and black blood covered his red scales. "There are too many, Issari! We must flee. Shift and fly with me."

  She shook her head, swung her sword, and sliced open a diving creature. Its entrails spilled and its blood splattered her. It crashed down at her feet, writhing. "I will not abandon Eteer."

  "Eteer is fallen!" the red dragon shouted back. Blood dripped from a gash on his chest, and scratches covered his scales. "You cannot serve Eteer by dying here. We will find another way."

  Shattered bricks, statues, and columns spread around her. Corpses lay among them. One soldier wept, dragging himself forward, his body halved. Another man raced across the battlefield, shouting for his mother. His feet were gone; he ran upon the stumps. Issari's head spun, her heart beat against her ribs, and she could barely breathe. She had never imagined such terror, such bloodshed, such malice in the world. Her entire people crumbled around her—not just her reign but her very race died under the smoke and dust and nephil wings. She had summoned a thousand soldiers from the barracks; perhaps a hundred remained, and still the nephilim flew.

  And she knew Tanin was right.

  The city had fallen.

  Another nephil flew toward her. She sliced off its jaw, and Tanin finished the job, driving his horn into its head. Panting, covered in the creatures' blood, Issari turned her head and stared back at the palace. It rose from the smoke, its columns blackened. Upon its roof he stood, staring down at her with his burning green eyes. Ishnafel—King of the Fallen. Heir of Eteer, a kingdom of darkness.

  And so I will flee this day, she thought. And so my second exile begins. But I vow to you, Eteer, I will return.

  Finally she shifted into a dragon. She rose into the sky, blowing her fire.

  The surviving soldiers below pointed and shouted out to her, "Queen Issari, Queen Issari! Do not abandon us. Fight with us."

  Nephilim swarmed toward her. She blew her flames, sending them crashing down. She landed back upon the ruins. "Follow, men of Eteer. To the southern gates! To the Spice Gates! Follow!"

  She lolloped down the street, claws clattering against the cobblestones, blowing her fire before her to clear a path. Tanin flew above, raining fire upon the buzzing half-demons. Soldiers ran behind, swords swinging, cutting their way through the army of the fallen. Women, children, and elders emerged from homes, weeping, begging for aid.

  "Follow, Eteerians!" Issari cried. "To the Spice Gates!"

  They ran, soldiers and townsfolk, a life extinguishing with every step. The creatures swooped from roofs and scuttled from alleyways, faster than falcons. Finally the survivors of Eteer, clutching their wounds, reached the archway of Spice Gates, the southern gates of Eteer. Tanin flew above the gatehouse, blowing his fire at the creatures that mobbed him. Issari slammed into the bronze doors, shoving them open, and crashed outside into the plains.

  Farmlands stretched before her, and distant yellow hills rose under the veiled sky. Beyond lay the wilderness of Eteer, perhaps some hope for salvation. She raised her paw, hoping to raise a pillar of light, but her amulet was dimmed. Perhaps Taal had no more power over this falling world.

  "Run, children of Eteer! Follow my light."

  She shifted back into human f
orm and ran, holding the dim light of her amulet, a beacon barely visible in the shadows under the smoky sky. Tanin roared above, and the people followed behind, an exodus from the city of demons, out of ruin and into the wild.

  DORVIN

  They flew ahead of the rest, scouting the skies, two dragons—green and silver.

  "See anything, Dung Beetle?" the green dragon asked. The other dragons—Alina and the survivors of Bar Luan—flew a mark behind them, specks in the distance. Here at the vanguard flew the two warriors of their group.

  If you can call the mammoth arse a warrior too, Dorvin thought, looking at Maev. The damn buzzard only got lucky with the demon wolves. He growled. Next time we meet demons, I'll bury her under the corpses I make.

  A silver dragon, he puffed fire her way. "I see only a massive, flying clump of green rhinoceros snot." Dorvin spat out smoke. "No damn demons. I wish I had gone north or south instead. By the the Sky God's hairy nostrils, we fought a damn tree for stars' sake. A tree." He growled. "I want to kill demons! Lots of them."

  Flying on the wind, Maev smiled crookedly. "You didn't do too well when we met the demon dogs. Your killed only one pup, while I slew three. I don't think you'd fare well with demons. Trees are more of your forte." She gestured down to the forest. "I see a little sapling down there. Want to land and try to defeat it? Just watch out for any sharp branches."

  He roared, scattering flames, and banked toward her. He slammed into her, knocking the green dragon aside in the sky. "I can defeat you in a fight!"

  She snorted. "Dorvin, you nearly fainted when a mouse climbed on you. I used to pummel men twice your size for a living."

  "That does it." He bared his fangs, beat his wings, and raised his claws. "I'll show you who's the true warrior—right now, here in the sky. I can kill many more demons than you. I can kill you. I've slain creatures that would give you nightmares. I—" He slapped her with his tail. "Look at me when I talk to you! Mammoth Arse, what are you doing? Why are you flying away? Stars damn it, you coward, you—"

  "Dorvin, you imbecile!" She blasted out fire. "In the east—go on, show me what you've got, Dung Beetle."

  He frowned, turned eastward, and his eyes widened. "Well, star spit! Finally."

  Three demons were flying toward them—scouts. Dorvin grinned. The creatures were reptilian and limbless, covered in long white spikes. Three forked tongues emerged from each mouth, and feathered wings grew from their backs. Dorvin flexed his claws, preparing for the fight, when Maev darted past him. The green dragon blasted out her fire, flying toward the creatures.

  Dorvin growled, unwilling to let Maev beat him at the game again. He beat his wings mightily, shooting after her. The demons ahead squealed, opened their maws wide, and blasted out streams of sizzling liquid.

  The two dragons banked, dodging the sprays. Droplets sizzled against Dorvin's flank and he roared; the poison began to eat through his scales, stinging the flesh beneath. He soared, then turned and swooped with the sun at his back. He roared down fire, bathing one of the creatures. The fire washed off its scales harmlessly, but the demon was momentarily blinded. Dorvin lashed his claws, ripping at the beast's wings. He landed upon its back, cutting, biting, until he tore out the creature's neck. It tumbled down toward the plains.

  His mouth bloody, he raised his head to see Maev slay another demon. The third and last creature turned to flee.

  Maev shot forward, banging into Dorvin and knocking him aside. "Out of my way, Dung Beetle! The last one's mine."

  He roared and grabbed her tail, but she whipped it madly, freeing herself, and snorted fire his way. With a slap of her tail against his face, she flew after the fleeing demon.

  "Mammoth Arse, stars damn it!" He flew after her, gritting his teeth, and grabbed her tail again—this time between his jaws. He tugged her toward him, flew above her, and slammed his claws against her back. With a kick to her head, he leaped over her and flew onward. His flames roared, roasting the demon. "I win! I slew the last one!"

  The creature burned ahead of him, but it still flew. Shrieking, it turned toward the two dragons. Its jaws swung open, and it blasted out more acid. Dorvin and Maev scattered, and the jet fell through the sky. Dorvin darted forward, slashed his claws, and cut deep into the creature's face. Its blood spilled. He leaned in, prepared to bite out its neck.

  Something grabbed his tail.

  He yowled.

  Maev was tugging him backward, away from the dying demon. He thrashed, freed himself, and spun in the sky. By the time he righted himself and flew toward the demon again, Maev had bit out its throat. The creature tumbled down, dead before it hit the ground.

  Hovering, his wings scattering smoke, Dorvin turned to stare at Maev.

  The green dragon gave him a crooked smile. "I win again."

  Dorvin took a deep breath. He spoke in a strained, low voice. "That one was mine. I burned him. I cut him. I was going to finish the job when you—"

  "When I won." Maev nodded, her smile widening. "As always."

  Something snapped inside Dorvin—something that had been taut and painful since leaving Requiem. He roared. He barreled into Maev, knocking her back in the sky.

  They tumbled down in a ball of lashing claws, snapping teeth, and blasts of fire.

  "Let go of me!" she roared.

  Dorvin refused to, only tightening his grip. Their wings beat against one another. They kept falling. The ground rushed up toward them. The rage flowed over Dorvin. He had spent too many days listening to her taunts, seeing that damn raised chin of hers, letting her strong body, crooked smile, and winking eyes fill his dreams. She was intoxicating, infuriating, impossible, and he didn't release her until they crashed through a tree, tumbled between snapping branches, and fell to the ground. The blow knocked the air out of Dorvin, banged his teeth together, and tugged his magic from him.

  He lay on the ground in human form, moaning. Smoke wafted into his eyes. He sat up, wincing and blinking, hoping no bones were broken. When the world came back into focus, he saw Maev back in human form too, struggling to rise. Scratches covered her, and a branch had ripped her tunic.

  Dorvin struggled to his feet, stumbled toward her, and swung his fist.

  Fast as field mouse—creatures just as horrible—Maev dodged the blow. She leaped up, and her own fist connected with Dorvin's cheek. He crumpled, falling back onto the grass. Before he could rise again, Maev jumped onto him, fists flying. Her knee drove into his belly, and he grunted and couldn't even scream.

  "Get off me!" he whispered hoarsely, holding up his arms to protect his face.

  She snarled above him, her face rabid. The dragon tattoos on her arms danced as she pummeled him. "I've had enough of your rubbish, Dung Beetle. I—"

  He raised his knee into her belly, and she let out a short oof. He flipped her over, and she thumped down onto her back. Before she could rise, he leaped onto her, pinning her wrists down. She flailed, unable to free herself.

  "Calm down!" he said.

  She growled up at him. "Release me now, or my knee drives into your crotch." She raised her knee abruptly, and Dorvin—expecting the pain—loosened his grip and pulled back. She seized the opportunity to slam into him, swinging her fists again. They rolled through the grass, flipped over a fallen log, and began sliding down a hillside, wrestling all the while. Stones and fallen branches jabbed Dorvin, and even as she rolled, she kept attacking him, trying to bite, driving her knees into his sides. Finally they rolled to a halt in a grassy valley between trees.

  "That demon was mine," Dorvin said. "You stole it from me. Just like you did last time. Just like you always do—stealing the glory from me." His eyes suddenly stung. "Your family loves that. Your father stole my people from me. Now you keep mocking me."

  She snorted, flipped onto him, and pinned him down into the grass. "Grow up and stop whining. Are you a warrior or a little boy?"

  "A warrior." He growled. "If you'll let me be one, for stars' sake. It's not easy with you, you know."
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  "Never claimed it would be."

  Dorvin spat out grass. "You're too damn strong, too damn proud, too damn fiery, too damn beautiful, and—"

  "Too damn beautiful?" She raised an eyebrow.

  His cheeks flushed. "I mean—for a mammoth arse." His tongue felt too thick. "Don't pretend you don't know it! All your mocking smiles, your little winks, your swagger when you walk. You know what that does to a man, don't you?"

  She rolled her eyes. "You really are a dung beetle. I can't control that, no more than you can control your pretty eyes or your own smile."

  He blinked. "My eyes aren't pretty! They're warrior eyes. They're—" He blinked again. "You think I'm pretty?"

  She groaned, still lying atop him, pinning him down. "This is what I think." She leaned down and kissed his lips. "And that's the last kiss you'll ever get from me, so now stop thinking about me like that, and—"

  He wouldn't let her finish her sentence. He kissed her in return, and this kiss was deeper, and her tongue flicked into his mouth, and her body softened against his. After what seemed like ages, she pulled back and glared.

  "Stop that!" She grabbed a fistful of his hair. "I didn't say you could kiss me. I'm not that kind of woman. I—" She shuddered. "Oh to the Abyss with it." She pulled his head toward her and kissed him again.

  Her hands slipped under his tunic and all but ripped the garment off. She stared down at his bare chest. "Stars above, Dorvin, you're skinnier than your sister."

  His blood boiled too hot to answer. He grabbed her own clothes and tore them off, leaving her naked above him, then sat up and kissed her again. Her legs wrapped around him, and she tossed back her head, and they rolled back down into the grass. She moaned beneath him, and sweat poured down their naked bodies, and this felt like wrestling too, a thing of passion and groans and heat.