The Ascending

by Jenna Elizabeth Johnson

  As Boriahs studied the creatures, two pulled free of their handlers and lunged toward one another, screaming their violent rage. The Tyrant’s favored servant wrinkled his nose in disgust. It took ten of his men to pull them apart, and even then, he counted no less than seven of them clutching arms or abdomens where the monsters had managed a bite or a kick. Yes, having such creatures was hazardous, but it also meant no one stood in their way. The small legion had been very successful raiding towns and settlements as they headed north up the coast. Yet, not once did they stumble upon the dragon and the girl, nor find any evidence of their passing.

  Boriahs curled his lip in irritation. For a year, the human girl and her dragon had hidden behind the magical barrier surrounding the City of Light. Even now, after receiving vital information from that red she-dragon and with the help of his dark mages, he could not find a way into the city. No matter. The dragon and the girl were gone, so it was time for him and his men to move on as well. They would clear out as soon as he gave the order, this time splitting into groups to comb the wilds more thoroughly. No more wandering aimlessly through the endless mountain chains of the west. Not now. The dragon Raejaaxorix and his ward were heading for Nimbronia, and there were only so many roads that led to the great city of the Creecemind. The girl and her companion had a few days head start, but they were traveling on foot and if Boriahs could keep his men moving at a steady pace, then they would catch up to them sooner rather than later.

  Setting his jaw in determination, the Crimson King’s assassin peeled himself away from the trees and continued down into the clearing. Those who saw him right away stopped what they were doing and offered him a salute. He nodded, but kept walking. When he reached the center of the campground, he climbed atop the trunk of an old fallen tree and raised his arms, his black cloak billowing out behind him. By this time everyone had seen him, their attention now trained on their commander.

  “Listen, all of you,” Boriahs called out, his deep voice ringing through the meadow. “I have spoken with our Master, and he is not pleased with our failure with regards to the Tanaan scum and that girl.”

  A low, worried murmur spread through the crowd, but Boriahs kept one hand lifted high above his head. “Fret not, for he has given us another chance. He is pleased with those of us who took the initiative and eradicated the old Korli vermin in Oescienne,” he paused and nodded his head to those of his troupe who had been present for that honor. “So, we fall still within his favor.”

  A small round of relieved sighs and short laughs arose from the crowd, but Boriahs shouted, “Silence! Any failure, no matter how minute, is not something to be celebrated. Yes, we managed to rid the world of one more filthy dragon, but that is a minor detail compared to the prize he seeks above all. We will not rest, nor will we rejoice, until the girl and the dragon are quivering at the feet of our Master!”

  Silent nods met his words this time. Better. He took one long look at those standing below him before going on. Ten groups of fifteen, plus one commander to keep them in order as well as a dark mage for each faction to take care of that which sixteen ruthless killers couldn’t accomplish. And, he was the Master of them all. Boriahs savored the sense of smug satisfaction unfurling within him, but not for the first time, the feeling was quickly replaced by the sting of his Master’s presence. A reminder to him that he was still a slave.

  “We must move quickly, if we wish to overtake them,” he called out. “They are headed for Nimbronia, and we must capture them before they reach their final destination.”

  He knew, just as every single one of his men did, that if the dragon and the human should move within the boundaries of Nimbronia, they would be untouchable. The magic that surrounded the city of the Creecemind was even more powerful than the magic guarding Lidien.

  “Let us not waste another minute. We will break camp and be on the road in half an hour.”

  The men, most of them descended from the mixed races of humans and elves, gave shouts of agreement, all of them thirsty once again for battle and bloodshed. As they scattered about, taking heed of their commander’s words, Boriahs was joined by a waif of a man dressed head to foot in brilliant crimson robes. Like Boriahs, he sported the brand of the Tyrant on one cheek. Unlike Boriahs, he was a wielder of black magic, the sort that required a blood sacrifice.

  “Armauld,” Boriahs growled under his breath.

  The dark sorcerer grinned, revealing his decaying teeth, and hissed, “The dragon and the girl are not alone in their quest.”

  Boriahs turned cold eyes onto the dark mage. “Who travels with them?”

  Armauld shook his head, his grin fading. “One whom I cannot detect.”

  Boriahs cursed. “Then how do you know of his presence?”

  The mage held up a hand and moved his fingers in a small dance. An orb of white light floated above his fingertips and within its center floated two bright sparks, one green and one blue.

  “The dragon and the girl,” the mage whispered, indicating the two sparks.

  Boriahs was about to strike the mage for wasting his time when something odd caught his attention. It wasn’t so much the presence of anything, but the fact that the two sparks came to a standstill, and in the next breath, the blue dot winked out for a split second before flaring back to life again. Then, the two dots began moving once more.

  “Why did the spark blot out?” the high commander demanded.

  “A third companion,” the mage sneered. “Someone capable of using very powerful cloaking magic.”

  Boriahs gave him a look of impatience, so the mage continued on. “This person who travels with them is an extremely powerful mage. And he is using magic I’ve not seen in several hundred years.”

  This time, Boriahs swore loud enough to startle the closest soldiers scurrying around him. He glared at them and barked a reminder that what they didn’t have packed in twenty minutes would be left behind.

  “What does this mean, Armauld? Who is this phantom mage?”

  This time, the dark sorcerer had the decency to forego his smug expression and replace it with a worried one. “I do not know, High Commander. But, we best not underestimate this dragon and the human girl. Or, the company they keep.”

  Grinding his teeth together, Boriahs dismissed Armauld and continued walking briskly to the makeshift stables. His quahna was saddled and waiting for him, the largest of the beasts and as black as soot. The animal, naturally excitable and giving the men holding him as much trouble as a herd of enraged boars, flared its nostrils and calmed upon Boriahs’ approach.

  Murmuring soothing words, the army’s high commander rubbed the animal’s forehead affectionately. Funny how he had so much trouble connecting with others of his kind, but this vicious beast behaved so well for him.

  “There now, Andor,” he crooned. “I know you are eager to seek out your prey, but you must allow me to get settled on your back first.”

  The beast squealed and snorted, slashing its hoof at the ground. Everyone, save for Boriahs, backed away. Taking the reins firmly, the squadron’s leader placed a boot in the stirrup and gracefully mounted the beast, throwing his dark cloak over the quahna’s hindquarters. The animal only protested a bit before Boriahs had him under control.

  “To your own steeds!” he shouted.

  Everyone scrambled to follow his orders, and soon, all one hundred and seventy of them were moving, their quahna screaming and snapping their sharp teeth at the excitement of a new hunt.

  Boriahs waited for all of his men to move out before following after them. Armauld, as well as a few of the other squadron leaders and mages, fell back with him as their sights pointed north. A gust of frigid spring wind curled down the mountainside as they left the meadow in their wake. Boriahs shivered at the cool air moving through his hair and sending his cloak billowing out behind him. But the wind’s icy bite failed to bother him as he led his troops deeper into the mountains, their will set on capturing a Tanaan dragon and the young woman who, with t
he simple power of her existence, sought to change the world.

  -Chapter One-

  Refuge from the Storm

  A shower of sparks rained down upon a nest of waiting kindling as Jahrra struggled to get a fire going. The icy sting of a single drop of precipitation hit the back of her neck and slid down her collar. Soon, others of its kind joined in, managing to break through the dense canopy of evergreens above to dampen the branches she was trying so desperately to set aflame. With renewed vigor, Jahrra struck her spare knife against the flint again and again, hoping to outrun the weather.

  “Drat,” she muttered between clenched teeth. She wanted to pull the hood of her jacket up over her head, but it was more important to get the fire going first.

  “Can I assist?”

  Jahrra cried out and fell backward onto her rump. Growling with irritation, she glared up at the tall elf standing before her. In the few weeks they’d been on the road, she had yet to hear Ellyesce’s approach. He was as silent as a ghost and just as unnerving as one, too.

  “I’ve almost got it,” she grumbled, climbing back to her feet and brushing off her pants. She reached for the knife and flint that had fallen out of her hands, then turned back toward the cold fire pit only to find the damp wood engulfed in a yellow blaze.

  Jahrra glanced up at Ellyesce and blinked in surprise as the flames dancing on his fingertips slowly flickered out.

  “Thank you,” she said in a begrudging tone.

  She wasn’t all that grateful, truth be told. She really had been determined to get the fire going on her own. But no, Ellyesce had to step in with his elusive elvin magic and do the job for her. Even though her guardian clearly trusted this elf, Jahrra remained steadfast in her own doubts. He was too silent, too observant and far too mysterious for her liking. He’d arrived on their doorstep the night before their departure from Lidien, and despite having traveled together for several days, she had not yet warmed up to him. Not in the least.

  Huffing out a breath of frustration, Jahrra pulled her jacket more tightly about her body and plopped down on a fallen tree limb to watch the fire dance and spit against the drizzling sky.

  “Troubled thoughts?”

  Ellyesce had receded back into his general quiet, so his voice startled her a bit. She glanced over at the elf, now leaning against a tree, his head and face hidden by the hood of his cloak. A few yards away, the horses whickered and shook rainwater from their necks. Jahrra cast a quick glance at Phrym, her marble grey semequin. Despite his unicorn lineage, he was much taller than his mother’s race and lacked the tell-tale horn protruding from his forehead. Nevertheless, he seemed well enough and looked to be in the same gloomy mood as she. Jahrra turned back to Ellyesce and shrugged.

  “Of course not. Any eighteen year old girl would love to be sitting out in the wilderness, beneath a looming rainstorm, with an aloof elf for company.”

  To her surprise, Jahrra’s sarcasm was met with amusement. Ellyesce barked out a small laugh, then turned his head so that he might see her. Jahrra’s eyes widened. Was that an actual smile on his face?

  “I imagine you are not like any other girl your age,” was his jocund answer.

  Jahrra bit her lip. She couldn’t argue with him there.

  Taking advantage of the elf’s genial mood, Jahrra shrugged and replied, “No, I don’t suppose I am. However, this would be much more pleasant if it weren’t raining, or if we could be sitting in a nice, cozy cave instead. With plenty of good books to read.”

  She couldn’t even draw in her sketchbook, what with the current damp weather. That, at least, would have given her something to do.

  Ellyesce took a great breath and resettled his arms across his chest. He lifted his head and pointed it away from their campsite. “Perhaps Jaax will find a cave on his scouting mission.”

  Jahrra didn’t think so, but she could always hope. Jaax had been gone longer than his customary hour, so maybe Ellyesce was right. She wondered if her dragon guardian had found any threats, and perhaps that was the reason for his delay. Jahrra clenched her teeth and willed herself not to worry. During their expedition north, her dragon guardian often left them for an hour at a time, three times a day, to make sure they weren’t being followed and to check that the road ahead was clear. Despite taking a more roundabout way to Nimbronia, the road they traveled was a wide one. It had to be, what with a dragon in their company. But they had been lucky so far to meet no one along the way. After all, it was only early spring, and winter still clung fiercely to the mountains. Most travelers and tradesmen would wait until later in the season to cross the peaks with their goods. And there was also the rumor that the Crimson King’s men had quietly infiltrated the Hruhnan Range, seeking out the human girl said to be residing in the great city of Lidien.

  Jahrra shivered, but this time not from the cold damp that soaked into her clothes. It was an unnerving feeling, knowing that you were being hunted. Fortunately, she, Ellyesce and Jaax had managed to slip out of the city before the wolves could descend. Now, they just had to outrun them.

  “Yours is a hard life, young Jahrra. I am sorry for it,” Ellyesce murmured from across the struggling fire, startling Jahrra a little.

  She suddenly felt ashamed of her complaints from earlier.

  “Life is hard for many,” she replied in a sober tone, then added with what she hoped was a nonchalant grin, “why should it be any easier for me?”

  Ellyesce smiled, his teeth flashing from beneath his dark hood. “Aye, I won’t deny that. But for some of us, it is doubly hard.”

  Jahrra cocked her head to the side. That sounded a little too familiar to her, as if the elf had survived his fair share of heartache and suffering. She would have contemplated it longer, perhaps asked him about it, but the beat of a dragon’s wings signaled Jaax’s return.

  Jahrra released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and craned her neck to peer over the large boulders just behind her. In a nearby clearing, a large green, turquoise and copper scaled dragon was tucking his wings in close to his body. He lifted his head, his nostrils flaring as he tested the air for danger, before turning his silvery green eyes onto the partially hidden campsite. He regarded Ellyesce, and the two nodded a casual greeting to one another. Still, Jaax didn’t move. His eyes grazed the rest of the site, as if seeking something out. Jahrra stood, putting her back to the fire and rising above the boulder that blocked her from view. The dragon’s attention focused on her, and those hard eyes softened a little, the grim cut to his reptilian mouth relaxing ever so slightly.

  Some of the tension in Jahrra’s body drained; relief at seeing her guardian safe and sound. It wasn’t too long ago, however, that she would have scowled at his return instead. All throughout her childhood, Jaax had been the bane of her existence. Well, one of the banes of her existence at least. When he was around, it was always business, in the learn-how-to-swim-by-jumping-right-in sense. He had never been gentle with her when it came to her training, and only in the last year or so had he finally given her a little more room to breathe. But now that they were on the road again, out in the wild where death could come from any direction, he’d taken up his old role of the domineering, overly protective mentor she remembered from her childhood.

  Jahrra crossed her arms and inclined her chin. “Did you think I’d wandered off?” she asked, more humor in her voice than irritation.

  The corner of the dragon’s mouth curved up ever so slightly. “That’s always a concern of mine, Jahrra,” he responded in kind.

  Jaax stepped forward, fallen branches breaking under his weight. When he reached the edge of the clearing, right before the land dropped down into their little resting place, he curled his toes over the boulder Jahrra had used as a backrest of sorts. She always forgot Jaax’s potential for violence, until she saw those claws. She studied them now, and the scaly fingers they were attached to. On one was the ring she’d purchased for him as a Solsticetide gift earlier that year. A beautifully crafted piece
fashioned from augrim, a rare, silvery gold metal. The ring was set with a cut spirit stone, a magical gem derived from her blood. Jahrra still couldn’t say what had possessed her to commission such a gift for this gruff, enigmatic guardian of hers, but the fact that Jaax never took it off warmed her. She chose to view it as a peace offering of sorts, just as the scale hanging from the chain around her neck had been the dragon’s extension of common comradeship.

  Before she could let her mind conjure up any more memories from her past, Jahrra cleared her throat and asked, “So, did you find anything on your scouting mission?”

  Jaax shook his head slightly and made to lie down in the clearing, his great reptilian form barely fitting between the stones and trees.

  “Evidence that the Tyrant’s men had passed through, but all heading toward Lidien.”

  Jahrra worried her bottom lip, and Jaax cast his cold gaze onto the fire. They had friends in Lidien, and the Coalition would be a target if the Crimson King’s men managed to penetrate the magical borders of the city. Jahrra could only hope that the magic held.

  “Is there any safe way to draw their attention away from the city?” Ellyesce asked.

  Jaax lowered his head and drew in a deep breath through his nose, releasing it quickly. He shook his head slowly.

  “Too much distance separates us, and the last thing I want to do is give away our location.”

  He gave Jahrra a quick look, the sort of look she had grown accustomed to during their year spent in Lidien. She lowered her own eyes, trying not to think about Torrell, Senton and Dathian, her three closest friends in the City of Light. She tried not to imagine what might happen to Anthar and his family, or Neira, the housekeeper who had been her ally and companion on so many occasions, if the soldiers breached Lidien’s borders. And she tried very hard not to think about Kellhor, the golden Tanaan dragon with no memory of his past who had become a good friend as well. The very dragon who now held Jaax’s old position as head of the Coalition of Ethoes.