“Mama… Look…” a child called, their shrill voice rising over the others as they squealed and played. “Big birds!”
Gralin and Troll turned to see the child pointing out to sea.
The baker shaded his eyes with his hand and peered over the tops of the children’s heads. He could see what looked like five giant birds flying toward them with the sun at their backs. They were just silhouettes. But, he could easily see those creatures were not ‘big birds.’ They were dragons!
“Dragons!” Gralin shouted. “Into the cavern!”
The mothers cried out in alarm. They had never seen dragons in their lifetime. The stories they had all been told were of the Dragon Wars… Fire… Destruction… and Death. They corralled their charges and started ushering them back into the cave as Troll, Gralin and several of the elderly stood mesmerized watching the dragons wing toward them.
They were easily discernible from a big bird now. There were five flying in a ‘V’ formation and the lead dragon was enormous. It was black as obsidian. At first the people watching from the outlook thought its coat of scales were shining in the morning sun, but they soon realized as it drew closer that it wore a suit of armor. Its head was encased in a helmet of silver with a bridge of metal running down its muzzle for protection of that vulnerable area of its body. Its chest was also encased in armor, and that piece rose to form a saddle on its back, where a death mage all dressed in black rode, with his hair and robe flapping in the wind like two smaller wings over the dragon’s shoulders.
When they were over the plain, and close enough that Gralin could see the color of the large dragon’s red eyes, the beast gave out a mighty roar and circled the dead piled deep on the grass. The other four dragons, as if instructed by the largest of their group, sailed down and landed by the pile of the dead, the mages riding them sliding from their backs and leading them closer.
Troll and Gralin could tell by the humans’ body language that they were appalled by the sheer numbers to be disposed of. As the largest made lazy circles over the other four on the ground, the beasts stretched out their long necks and seemed to inspect the pile. What they were looking for could not be determined by those on the outlook.
After a few moments, each of the four dragons picked up a body in its clawed feet and sprang into the air, winging their way back the direction they flew in from originally.
“Do you think they’re going to eat them?” Gralin asked Troll.
“Of course, they are!” one elderly man said as he stood leaning on his cane at the wall. “I heard my father talk of the horrors of the war… Men swallowed whole by those vicious beasts.”
The large dragon who had been circling overhead ignored the dead. Once the four seemed to be on their way, the large black armored giant turned toward the city. It thrust its powerful wings down to gain altitude. It swooped so closely past the outlook that those still standing there ducked and felt the air from its wings.
They watched it rise. It was headed toward the fifth tier.
Luthian heard the roar of the dragon as it announced its arrival in his garden courtyard. His servants seemed to appear from every doorway, their eyes wide in their fearful faces. He waved them back to their work, but he conjured a shield before he stepped out onto the porch of his home.
Mattis, one of Lady Morana’s priests, slid from the dragon’s back and stood with his arms crossed, buried in his sleeves. “I come to report that Her Highness, Priestess Morana has dispatched her black dragon flight and her followers to assist with the proper disposal of the dead.”
Luthian had been to the bloodmines. He had seen dragons, but never one like the one standing behind Mattis. The dragons in the mines were pathetic compared to this magnificent ebony monster. It was at least four times the size of any in the mines, and its gaze was intelligent and appraising. It eyed him over the head of its rider.
“Tell Lady Morana that the High Minister of Silverport thanks her for her concern and assistance.” He was sure her choice to send aid was not out of generosity; she always had a second purpose to what she did. His eyes returned to the dragon greedily. He would have liked to approach the dragon and even stroke its sleek black scaled neck, but he knew from the mine visits that they could be disagreeable creatures. Where the ones in the mines were chained down, this one was free, without even a harness for the rider to give it direction.
“How many dragons did you bring?” he asked. Alador had been correct, Lady Morana was collecting dragons. Maybe he needed to start listening more to what his nephew was saying. After all, the boy had proven he could play the game. Luthian’s mind flitted back to the dragon. How many was the question and what was she training them to do?
“We have five who will be working Silverport,” Mattis answered. The large black took that moment to nudge its partner in the shoulder as if reminding him that they did have orders to carry out for their priestess.
“And did Lady Morana dispatch others to the coastal cities?” Luthian asked. What was her purpose here? Why were the priests not just giving rites to the piles? So many questions raced through his mind. He usually prepared for everything. He was not prepared for this.
“Others have been sent to aid up and down the coast,” Mattis confirmed. He appeared uncomfortable with the High Minister’s questions. Whether he had been told by Lady Morana to keep their numbers secret or whether he was just not one to talk, he turned at this point and mounted his dragon.
“We will be making trips throughout the daylight hours. We have already found the dead piled on the plain. I would suggest you start a new pile further inland, so the cleanup is not hampered by the arrival and departure of the dragons.”
“I will see that it is done.” Luthian stepped back from the enormous beast as it started to walk toward the overhang of his garden.
It walked to the edge and hopped up on the wall. It stretched out its neck and let out a powerful roar that hurt Luthian’s ears., then spread its wings and dropped over the edge.
Luthian rushed to the wall to see the monster spiral down to the plains below. It sailed over the pile of the dead and without stopping reached down and grasped two bodies, one in each taloned paw, and with a mighty thrust of its wings headed toward the rising sun.
Luthian tapped his lips, hands flattened against each other. He had to find out more about Lady Morana’s control over these beasts. He had to learn how to control his own flight of dragons.
Chapter Twenty
Amaum sat upon the tall peak of a mountain, his grief still coursing through him. He had not realized how important Rena was to him. That she had died for some mortal did not make sense to him. How could she love a mortal more than her own kin? There were so many questions that the young dragon had, and there was no one to answer them. Well, no one but Alador. Had the mage somehow bewitched his sister to such loyalty?
His father had chosen the mortal for his Geas. Why hadn’t he chosen his own son? When they had been afforded the opportunity to meet his sire briefly, there had been no sense of giving his son this responsibility other than to help Alador. Helping Alador had killed his sister, it was as simple as that.
He sensed the presence of another dragon and looked off into the distance. It was his dam. He kicked off into the air to land somewhere with room for them both. He only saw his mother when she was seeking him; feeling like he needed to be independent now, he did not go to her other than to bring her a gift for her mound of treasure.
Pruatra landed with a light touch that seemed impossible for a dragon so large, yet he had never known his mother to shake ground when she landed. He bowed low, both to his dam herself and her station. She had been the flight leader’s mate and was afforded proper respect amongst those that remained of the blue dragon council.
“Amaum, I have been searching for you for days.” Pruatra flicked her tail with irritation. “You have not been to your cave in weeks by the looks of the entrance.”
“My cave is properly guarded, mother.” Amaum stated with an e
dge of youthful pride.
“It is not like you to leave it so long.” Pruatra said gently.
“I have not felt like returning.” Amaum admitted, ruffling his wings slightly.
“Because of Rena?” she pressed.
“Amongst other things.” Amaum snapped his response and a slight guttural growl followed it.
“Talk to me Amaum. You cannot sort such things in your own mind.” Pruatra pointed out. “The mind plays tricks when the emotions are high.”
“There is nothing to sort. My sire chose a mortal for his task. He ordered us to assist the man and now Rena is dead.” Steam billowed from the young male’s nostrils. His tail slammed into the ground.
“Amaum, you could not have done Alador’s task. It must be done within the mortal city and its guiding council. Dragons have tried to stop the bloodmining of our young, and only died for the effort.” Pruatra’s gentle words did nothing to ease his anger.
“Then the gods should lift the prohibition against harming them except in defense.” Amaum snarled. “Let us burn their little mountains down.”
“Our purpose has always been…” Pruatra began.
“Our purpose ended when they betrayed our blood for their own power.” Amaum roared with frustration. “Dragons have attacked before.” He finally said after his forefeet hit the ground once more.
“The Daezun have never betrayed their oaths. We will continue to protect and honor them.” Pruatra rose, her chest puffing as she drew her full weight before the smaller dragon. “We will continue to help Alador,” she stated firmly.
“Keensight was allowed to attack that village!” Amaum wanted that freedom, to act in his anger and tear apart those that had led to Rena’s useless death.
“Keensight will pay for his actions before the gods. His path is not yours. It is not mine. I gave my mate my word I would help Alador.” Pruatra counseled. “And I will keep it.”
“You prefer him over your own daughter.” Amaum snarled. “I didn’t give my word. I will not help the human again.”
“Amaum, I trust my mate and his magic to see things as they should be. Alador will unite the isle in time.” she assured her son. “It has been foreseen that such a mortal would rise up for a very long time.”
“Then what? We serve the mortals as we once did?” Amaum shook his great head. “I will not be a slave.”
Pruatra sighed deeply, and Amaum did not miss the irritated flick of her tail. But he was grown now, she could not use her powers as his dam to insist upon his compliance. He was not helping the half-breed again.
“If you remember your history, dragons were revered and cared for. We were never slaves.” Pruatra pointed out. “If anything, they were more our servants then we theirs.”
“Until they figured out they could steal our power.” Amaum knew his history just fine. He knew that the mages had betrayed dragons and separated the isle beyond hope.
“Alador has already seen one mine closed. With the betrayal of the black fight known, those with clutches are keeping them well hidden. Finding our eggs will be a great challenge now; I do not think that such a place will return.”
Pruatra was helping guide one poor blue fledgling. Its wings had been so damaged during its imprisonment in the bloodmines that it would never fly. She had helped the young male find a cave in the sea, and assisted him in creating the pressure needed for a dry place to rest. He could live his days beneath the sea. In time, his body would adapt to undersea life. He would just need to rise for air now and then.
“You didn’t want to help Alador either.” Amaum tried one last desperate time to sway his mother from her course.
“Yes, well if someone doesn’t help him with your father’s geas and assist him with his magic, the young mage could kill us all, dragon and human alike. It is in my best interest to see him fully trained.” She shook her wedged head. “I do not claim to understand your father’s gifting of his powers as if Alador were a son. I am grateful that he still gifted you as well. Personally, you are acting like a spoiled fledgling who didn’t get his way.”
“MY SISTER DIED,” roared the young male.
Then Pruatra did something she had never done before - she attacked her son. The older dragon lunged forward and caught the young male in the chest. He was not prepared, and she was able to bowl him over. Her talons dug into his throat, and he struggled beneath her weight before finally going still and looking away.
“She was MY DAUGHTER.” Pruatra snarled down at him. “Don’t you ever act as if I have forgotten again, or I will send you to your father’s care. Am I very clear, Amaum?”
Her muzzle was against the side of his head. She was nearly double his size, and despite his male bravado he could not move her. Amaum laid there stunned. His mother had never treated him with aggression before, and he truly did not know how to react.
“You will answer me, Amaum.” She demanded, her sharp talons digging deeper.
Amaum whimpered before answering. “Yes, Dam,” he called up softly.
She let him go and shook out her wings. “When you have quit feeling sorry for yourself and can become the male I expect of you, come find me.” She looked down were he still cowered before her. “There is more at stake than your sister or Alador. I expect a male of my line to rise to his potential. There will be no more talk of this. You will support the boy or I will personally see to it that you never leave the sea again.”
Amaum wasn’t sure how she could do that, but he also had not thought her capable of dropping him as if he were nothing more than a fledgling. He huffed out steam as if to save some small part of his ego.
“Yes, Mother,” he stated softly.
Pruatra took off, clearly still angered. He had pushed too far. He rose to his feet, shaking his wings to make sure they were unharmed. He decided that maybe caring for his cave was not such a bad idea right now. He knew one thing. He never wanted to see his Dam that angry again.
Chapter Twenty-One
The body hit the courtyard head first, the sound much like dropping a melon on the rock pavement. Jon had become immune to the implications of the noise by the tenth body. He still looked away as they hit the ground, but that was to ensure no body fluids splattered into his face. The red bricks of the small outdoor area were now darkened even further by such escapes of fluids. He moved to the body quickly to ascertain its condition. This one was intact – not missing any appendages.
“Move this one into the crypt,” he directed.
The young acolyte looked at Jon with concern as his fellow acolyte hastened to collect the body. “We keep adding bodies like this, we are going to run out of room.”
“The High Priestess keeps a stone mage in her service. You will never run out of room.” Jon sounded bored. “Now move it before another drops.”
His command was obeyed immediately, one of the benefits of being trained and recently raised to a priest’s status by Lady Morana. He was grateful for this, as he had seen some of the tasks the acolytes were given and he much preferred his status and duties as they were.
He scanned the sky for another black dragon. The bodies had been coming in regularly all afternoon. Despite the morbidity of their task, the blacks were amazing to watch in flight. The gliding of a fully extended wing drew the eye and sometimes Jon wondered if some magic was in play that left mortals with that continued sense of awe.
Jon was startled out of his thoughts by a strong push against his back. He stumbled forward and turned around with a smile.
“Nightmare, we have talked about this. Eventually you are going to be big enough to fling me across the yard. You need to stop doing that.”
Despite his words, the usually reserved priest moved to the dragon and stroked its muzzle with affection.
“But it’s fun!” Nightmare’s somewhat guttural speech had only recently cleared enough that Jon did not have to decipher it. The dragon grinned.
The acolytes moving the body hustled past the dragon, giving it a wide berth
.
Jon shook his head, but couldn’t blame them. A dragon grinning could be really quite frightening if you were not familiar with their expressions. He cuffed the dragon lightly and the dragon’s tail started playfully wagging back and forth at the end.
“Don’t do it,” Jon warned.
The dragon was just about to pounce upon him, something Jon would have been unable to stop, when another body hit the ground behind the priest. Nightmare bumbled around him to sniff the corpse.
“You people are falling from the sky.” Nightmare looked up at the sky as if searching for another falling corpse. “I do not think they should try to fly.”
Jon chuckled. “We are bringing in the dead from the last storm.”
“Why?” Nightmare looked at him in confusion.
“The High Priestess is helping put the dead to rest by moving them on to Dethara or other Gods.” Jon explained.
“Why?” Nightmare tipped his head almost upside down as he looked at his friend.
Jon groaned inwardly. It seemed like ‘why’ and ‘what for’ had become the dragon’s favorite questions of late.
“Do you remember when we spoke of the Goddess and her purpose?” Jon knew he was going to have to be thorough when the black fledgling was in this mood.
“Yes, she created the black dragons. We are her children.” The fledgling puffed up proudly.
“Yes, but she is also the guide to the dead, ensuring they pass to the God or Goddess that they most honored in life.” Jon explained. “So, since there are so many beyond healing from the storm, she is assisting the cities and villages with proper burial rites after the storm.”
“Do dragons have burial rites?” Nightmare tipped his head the other way. It was rather comical despite the seriousness of the conversation.
The priest pondered for a moment. “I honestly do not know the answer to that. You are the first dragon I have ever spoken too. You will have to ask one of the elders of your flight.”
“Oh no, they go on and on and on and on and on and on…”
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