Dragons Reborn

by Daniel Arenson

  Korvin beat his wings, hovering in midair. Amity flew beside him. A dozen griffins flew all around. The cleric stood below, staff held before him.

  "I will burn my enemies!" Amity sneered.

  The cleric stared up from below, eyes burning behind his demonic mask. "Even a queen may not shed blood upon holy ground. Here in Gosh Ha'ar, Adon himself touched the mountains and spilled forth water. If you shed the blood of the Horde here, the crown will never be yours." The cleric stared up at Shafel next. "Stand down, Shafel! If you shed blood here, Adon will curse you too, and this crown will never sit upon your head."

  The dragons and griffins landed on the stage beneath the mountains.

  Shafel wheeled his griffin toward the crowd, and he raised his mace high.

  "Hear me, Horde!" the giant shouted. "I am Shafel, son of Sha'ar, slayer of Ka'elor the Sand Asp. I slew thousands of Templers in the last war. I shatter boulders with my fists, and even dragons fear and dare not strike me. I am your new king! Kneel before me!"

  Across the crowd, thousands knelt.

  Amity stared in disbelief, then turned toward the cleric. "Crown me! Now!"

  Yet Shafel stepped forth, knocking her aside, and snatched the crown from the old priest. When the giant tried to place it upon his head, Amity leaped out and grabbed it. The two stood facing each other, holding the crown between them.

  The crowd stared.

  Amity glared up at Shafel. He loomed above her, thrice her size.

  "Choose a place," Amity hissed, eyes blazing. "Choose a place for me to slay you."

  The giant snorted. "Wherever you walk, girl, I will hunt you. Wherever you step off holy ground, I will be there to crush you under my heel."

  He yanked the crown backward. Amity tugged the other way. With a crack, the crown shattered, scattering finger bones.

  Korvin stared, heart sinking.

  We wanted to find an army. Now our army, like this crown, shatters.

  FIDELITY

  The dragons flew over the dark city of Nova Vita, a hundred firedrakes flying in pursuit.

  Fidelity's heart pounded, and pain drove across her body. A crossbow's quarrel dug through her back, wind whistled through a hole in her wing, and several of her scales had fallen in the battle, revealing bleeding flesh. The city streamed beneath her, the firedrakes screeched behind, and her lifeblood dripped away, but Fidelity laughed.

  Cade was free.

  Her sister flew with her once again.

  "Domi, can you keep flying?" Fidelity cried, tears in her eyes.

  Her sister flew beside her. Her scales of many colors shone in the firelight, red and orange and yellow, though many were cracked or torn off, and she bled from the wounds. Yet the fiery dragon stared at Fidelity fiercely, and she nodded.

  "Save your breath and fly!" Domi said. She narrowed her eyes and beat her wings with more fervor.

  They flew onward, Fidelity leading the way across the city. When she glanced over her shoulder, she saw the hundred firedrakes pursuing, and more kept rising from the bowels of the Cured Temple, which now shone several miles away. At the rear, Julian and Roen twisted backward, blasted out twin pillars of fire, then turned forward and flew onward. A hundred jets of flame blasted in answer, most too weak to reach them, but a few shrieked between the fleeing dragons. Cade screamed as fire licked his tail, and Fidelity grimaced as sparks landed on her wings. They kept flying.

  "Requiem rises!" Fidelity cried as she flew. "Hear me, people of Nova Vita. I am a free dragon! Requiem is reborn!"

  Though wounded and bleeding, Cade grinned as he flew beside her, and he cried out to the night. "Rise against the Temple! Remember Requiem! Remember Requiem!"

  The time for subtlety was over. The time for smuggling books in shadows had ended. Now they roared their cry together, five dragons in the open sky.

  "Remember Requiem! Remember Requiem!"

  As they flew, hope began to rise in Fidelity. The firedrakes would not catch them. Cade was free from his prison, and Domi was free from the gilded cage she had surrendered herself to, no less a prison than one of bars and chains. Julian and Roen flew with her again—the wisest man she knew and the man she loved. And the most secret, forbidden of words now rang across the city—a cry of hope, of rededication, of memory.

  "Remember Requiem!"

  Before her rose the city walls, and beyond them the open night—darkness, wilderness, hope for escape, for life.

  Fidelity was only seconds away from the walls when new fire blazed.

  Her hope crashed.

  Twenty firedrakes rose from the walls, blasting flame her way. She reared in the sky. The hundred firedrakes behind her shrieked with new vigor and stormed forth, trapping the dragons between them and the new foes.

  "Soar!" Fidelity cried, beating her wings and shooting up toward the stars.

  The other dragons curved their flight upward. Jets of flame blasted beneath them. One pillar of fire crashed into Roen, and the green dragon roared but kept ascending, his scales charred and cracking with the heat. Another fiery pillar rose by Fidelity, and she veered, knocking into Cade.

  "Break past them!" she cried. "To the wilderness, fly!"

  She could see nothing but fire, their flashing claws, their biting teeth. Beyond them lay the open night; the dragons could vanish there into shadow. Yet the firedrakes flew everywhere, forming a noose, shrieking, blasting flames. Paladins rode on their backs, and arrows flew. One arrow tore through Fidelity's wing, and she bellowed in pain. Another arrow slammed into her horn and lodged there.

  "Break through!" She sneered and charged. "Requiem, with me!"

  Fidelity screamed as she slammed into one firedrake. She lashed her claws. She bit at its scales. She swiped her tail, driving its spikes against the creature. The firedrake bucked in the sky, screeching, and she bit out its throat. It tumbled down, but an instant later three more beasts slammed into Fidelity. Their claws tore at her scales. Their riders' arrows slammed into Fidelity, most shattering against her scaly hide, but one drove through and cut deep.

  Fidelity lost her magic.

  She tumbled through the sky toward the city, a human again.

  "Fidelity!" Cade cried.

  As she fell, she saw her comrades fighting above, only four dragons, countless firedrakes surrounding them. The city roofs rushed up to meet her.

  Remember Requiem.

  She clenched her jaw, summoned every last bit of strength inside her, and shifted back into a dragon. She soared again.

  Firedrakes swooped and slammed into her. More rose from the roofs around her. She blasted out flame.

  "Fly into darkness, Requiem!" she cried. "Break through! With me! Rally with me!"

  They swooped, blowing out flames in a ring, to join her flight. Fidelity roared her flames.

  "Drive your fire forward!" she shouted. "Join your flames and break through!"

  She blasted more fire. Their pillars joined with hers. The five fiery streams wove together, forming a gushing river of heat and sound and light. Firedrakes fled before it. The raging inferno carved open a path in the night. Ahead Fidelity saw the shadows, the open landscape, a chance to live. She flew there. The others flew with her.

  They shot across the walls and over the fields.

  We made it, Fidelity thought, tears in her eyes . . . and then the great beast swooped.

  Mercy Deus had hovered above the battle, surveying it from the cold heights. Now the paladin swooped upon her great firedrakes, and her flames rained down. Ten other firedrakes flew with her, forming a wall of scales and fire.

  "Slay them all!" the paladin cried. "Slay the weredragons!"

  The firedrakes all blew fire, their jets weaving together in a gushing river, a raging inferno greater than Vir Requis fire, brighter than the sun, a flame to burn the world.

  Fidelity reared in the sky, blinded by the light, screaming in pain.

  A shadow flew forth.

  "Fly, lassie!" the shadow cried, charging into the light.
"Lead them on. Fly!"

  "Julian!" she shouted.

  The old silver dragon charged forth . . . into the woven jets of firedrake flames.

  The dragon screamed as he burned.

  Plowing onward, Julian beat his burning wings, laughed and screamed, and scattered the flames back onto the firedrakes. The old dragon blasted forth his own fire, a great fountain, and the firedrakes screamed and their riders burned.

  "Father!" Roen cried.

  "Julian!" Tears filled Fidelity's eyes. She couldn't even see the silver dragon anymore, only a burning phoenix, a beast of flame, laughing, holding back the enemy.

  "Fly!" his voice echoed . . . and was gone.

  Tears in her eyes, Fidelity flew.

  "Follow me!" she shouted. "Domi, Cade! Fly! Roen!"

  They flew past the burning firedrakes and into the open night. They streamed across the fields. When Fidelity looked over her shoulder, she saw the great blaze of firedrakes . . . and she saw a small, burning man plummet through the sky like a comet. Before Julian could hit the city rooftops, three firedrakes caught him, bit deep, and tore him apart. Limbs scattered. Fidelity's eyes watered and she looked away.

  "Father!" Roen cried, voice torn in agony.

  Fidelity forced herself to fly near the green dragon, to glare at him, to swipe him with her tail. "Silence! Fly silently, Roen. No fire. No sound. Fly!"

  Roen's eyes were red and damp, but he obeyed. They all swallowed their flames. They soared higher and glided on the wind. Behind them, the firedrakes pursued, blasting out flame, seeking them in the night.

  Five dragons had fought over the city. Four flew into the darkness, burnt, grieving. They had cried out, bled, killed for Requiem. As they flew in shadows, they left a light of Requiem behind, forever gone.

  ROEN

  My father is gone.

  They flew through the night, four dragons where five had once flown. They flew through despair, bleeding, burnt, grieving. Roen could barely breathe, barely keep his wings flapping. The pain of his wounds blazed across him, and the pain inside him twisted his belly, clutched his heart, burned his throat and eyes. The sky itself seemed to shatter.

  My father is gone.

  If not for the firedrakes that still scanned the sky, he would have roared in agony. If not for Fidelity, whom he had to protect, he would have turned in the sky, charged back toward the enemy, and blasted his fire, burning them and dying, joining his father in the afterlife.

  Father . . . Oh stars, Father.

  The others flew beside him in the darkness: Fidelity, a slim blue dragon; Cade, a young golden dragon, his scales cracked and burnt; and Domi, just as battered and charred, her scales a mosaic of red, orange, and yellow in every shade.

  And one dragon was missing. An old, silver dragon, his eyes bright, his smile ready.

  Julian. My father.

  The sky would always be empty.

  As they glided in silence over the hills, Roen turned his head and looked back north. The city was distant now. The Cured Temple was only a spark of light on the horizon like a star fallen onto the earth. Yet other lights filled the sky, a hundred or more. Firedrakes. Their jets of fire rose and vanished every few seconds. Their shrieks tore across the sky. They flew everywhere, spreading out, seeking them.

  Fidelity flew up beside Roen. She gazed at him with soft, damp eyes.

  "Roen . . . I'm sorry." She let her wing brush against him.

  He gritted his jaw, eyes stinging, not wanting to shed tears in front of her. He whispered, "Hush. Follow. We'll hide in Old Hollow."

  She nodded, eyes gleaming, and kept flying close to him. Cade and Domi flew behind, silent on the wind. The firedrakes' flames now blazed miles away, and the grasslands gave way to the forests. As they glided lower, the pain grew stronger, an iciness spreading through Roen's belly.

  I return home . . . without him.

  The moon was a sliver but the stars were bright, and while Fidelity squinted in the darkness, unable to see, Roen's dragon eyes were sharp. He saw the crest of Old Hollow rising ahead from the forest, the tallest tree for miles, the only home Roen had ever known. He kept tapping Fidelity with his wing, guiding her onward, as they glided down. Domi and Cade followed, and Roen directed them to a small clearing where he had cut down several trees, creating a smooth surface to land on. The four dragons alighted onto the grass and shifted into human forms.

  Crickets chirped, the forest surrounded them in black walls, and the stars shone. Directly above glowed Issari's Star, the eye of the Draco constellation. Roen stood still, watching the sky as if waiting for Julian to come gliding down, to tell them he's still alive, to laugh and embrace him. But no new dragon appeared, and Roen lowered his head.

  The others stared at him silently. Fidelity was the only one who dared approach. She held his hand and touched his cheek.

  "Roen, I'm so sorry."

  He turned away. "Come, we go. We can't stand under open sky. The firedrakes are still searching for us."

  As if to confirm his words, the cries of the beasts rose in the distance, and Roen spotted a shadow across the stars. The four Vir Requis, all in human forms, left the clearing and walked through the dark forest.

  "I can't see anything," Fidelity whispered.

  Roen held her hand. "Let me guide you."

  He could barely see a thing either. Hardly any moonlight made it past the canopy, not with the moon so thin. He walked with his free hand held before him, making sure they didn't slam into any trees. If he hadn't known this forest so well, hadn't walked this path so many times, he wouldn't have found his way. But soon he found himself walking down a slope toward a towering shadow: Old Hollow.

  The ancient oak rose in the night, stretching its canopy toward the stars. It was the largest tree in the forest, perhaps in all the Commonwealth, rising from the ancient crater. As the Vir Requis walked toward the tree, their feet crunched fallen leaves.

  "You'll find rest here," Roen said, voice hard, hoarse. "Food and drink and bandages. Follow me. It'll be crowded inside but we'll all fit."

  The others stared at him, and he saw the pity in their eyes. Roen could not bear it. The lump swelled in his throat. He turned away and climbed the oak, moving from branch to branch, until he reached the hidden passageway that led into the hollow trunk. He slid down into his home. He stared at the place: walls of polished wood, a small table, only three stools, clay bowls, a pot of the stew his father would make . . . his father who would never cook this stew again, never fill this home with his laughter and life.

  Fidelity slid down first from the branches, and Domi and Cade followed. All were silent, and Fidelity's eyes shone with tears. Roen could not bear to look at them.

  I should never have left this place. Oh stars, I should never have fought in this war. I did this for you, Fidelity, and now he's gone, now he's gone.

  He squared his jaw. There would be time for grief later. Shelves covered the walls, piled high with items, and Roen rummaged around until he found the bottle of spirits and the bundle of bandages. They spent a while bandaging their wounds and burn marks. Arrows had pierced their dragon forms. On their human bodies, the wounds were raw and ugly like the bites of wasps. Welts from the firedrake fire covered them; some were large and swollen and would leave scars.

  As Roen bandaged a wound on Domi's leg, the memory would not leave him: Julian charging into the fire, falling as a burning man, and the firedrakes tearing him apart. Roen's fingers trembled. He hurriedly finished his work, binding the gash on Domi's leg, then turned away.

  "You'll find food and drink on the shelves." His throat still felt so damn tight. "Eat. Rest."

  With that Roen climbed out of the trunk. It was too crowded in there, yet too empty without his father. He could not bear it. He climbed down into the forest, walked across the fallen leaves, and stood facing the dark maples and birches. Finally he let his tears flow down his cheeks.

  "This wasn't a war I wanted," he whispered into the shadows. "Oh, Fathe
r, I didn't want this fight. And now you're gone forever."

  Footfalls sounded behind him, and Fidelity's soft voice rose in the darkness. "He gave his life for us. So Requiem can live. So—"

  He spun around toward her, and now rage blazed inside him. "I don't care about Requiem!" He clenched his fists. "I did this for you, Fidelity! For you! Because you needed our help. I never cared about Requiem, and now . . ."

  His hands loosened, and he fell to his knees before her. Fidelity knelt and embraced him.

  "You're right," she whispered, holding him close. "I have no words of comfort. I cannot heal this pain. Just know that I'm sorry, that I'm here for you, that I love you."

  He held her close, almost crushing her in his arms.

  "I love you too," he whispered.

  And as he held her, all his anger melted away, and he knew that he'd always fight for Fidelity, that he'd fly through fire and blood, that he'd give his own life for her. She fought for Requiem, and he would always fight for her. She was as precious to him as lost kingdoms, as dreams of rising again, as the stars and all they shone upon.

  He looked up toward those stars, seeking the Draco constellation, but he saw fire.

  "Firedrakes." He grabbed the axe that still lay on the forest floor. "A lot of them."

  Fidelity grimaced and stepped back from him, staring up at the sky. Roen's heart sank. Several of the firedrakes swooped above, shrieking. Their claws shone in the firelight that escaped their maws. Above their cries rose a familiar voice—the voice of Mercy Deus.

  "They're here somewhere! Burn down the forest! Burn down every tree!"

  With blazing heat and shrieking wind, dragonfire roared down toward the forest, crashing through the trees like comets. One stream slammed down only a dozen feet away, engulfing an aspen. Red light flooded the forest.

  Roen grabbed Fidelity and pulled her back. They raced toward Old Hollow.