Dragons Reborn

by Daniel Arenson

"Bloody griffin bollocks!" Cade blurted out. The boy jumped down from the tree's branches.

  Domi followed him, her red hair covering her face, and hissed like a wild beast. "That's Mercy above."

  Cade grabbed her arm and began to run, dragging Domi along. "You don't say. Now run!"

  They had taken only several steps before fire rained down, slamming into Old Hollow.

  Flames cascaded over the ancient oak. Its canopy blazed. Its trunk creaked, the fire cloaking it. For two thousand years, this oak had stood here, a sentinel of the forest. Roen stood before it, the heat blasting him and stinging his eyes, watching this ancient tree, the only home he'd ever known, consumed with flame.

  Fidelity grabbed his arm and tugged him. "Run!" she screamed.

  The four Vir Requis ran together, keeping to their human forms. Another blazing jet slammed down before them, and another tree burst into flame. They swerved, dodging the inferno, and ran between maples, leaping over roots and fallen logs. Light bathed the forest.

  "I see one!" cried a voice above. "Burn them!"

  Roen cursed as fire crashed down before him, splashing up against his chest. His fur cloak ignited, and he tossed it off. He kept running, holding Fidelity's hand.

  "Split up!" he shouted to Cade and Domi.

  A burning tree slammed down before him. Roen and Fidelity paused, spun around, and raced around it. Cade and Domi leaped between the trees a dozen yards away. A firedrake swooped, grabbed a tree in its claws, and uprooted it. The roots rained soil, and the firedrake's rider fired an arrow. Roen ducked and the missile shot over his head.

  "Cade, meet me at the tavern where we danced!" Fidelity shouted. "We have to split up!"

  The boy nodded. As another flaming jet slammed down, Cade and Domi raced away, vanishing into the forest.

  Roen turned and, holding Fidelity's hand, ran in the opposite direction. The firedrakes kept streaming above, roaring and blowing down their flames. Another one of the beasts swooped, and its claws tore up a birch. Roen and Fidelity swerved and raced down a hill between burning trees.

  "We have to fly," Roen said.

  Fidelity shook her head, braid swaying. "They'd see us in the sky. Keep running!"

  They reached a stream and splashed through the shallow water. Trees blazed alongside, and the beasts kept flying above. As Roen ran, he slipped on a mossy rock hidden underwater, pitched forward, and banged his elbows. They bled. Fidelity pulled him up, and they ran onward.

  She pointed. "There!"

  A copse of maples rose along a hillside ahead, not yet aflame. Shadows still lurked between them. Roen and Fidelity ran out of the water and up the slope, moving between the trees. When Roen glanced up, he couldn't see the stars; red smoke hid the sky. The firedrakes kept streaming back and forth. They must have lost track of their quarry.

  "We need more distance between us and them," Roen said, then coughed madly. It was a moment before he could speak again. "Once we're far enough, we'll rise and fly."

  He coughed again and almost fell, but he forced himself to keep running. Fire seemed to fill his lungs. He had breathed too much smoke; it felt as if embers blazed inside his chest.

  I have to keep going. For the living. For Fidelity.

  He kept running, holding Fidelity's hand. She too was coughing, and ash covered her face. One of her spectacles' lenses had smashed in the flight, and burn marks rose along her arms.

  Along with the pain, rage filled Roen. Rage for the firedrakes who had killed his father, who had destroyed his home. Rage for them hurting Fidelity.

  These monsters are who Fidelity has been fighting all these years, he thought as he ran. I didn't want this war, but now . . . now I will burn them all.

  They kept running, leaping over logs and rocks, as the forest burned. Cade and Domi had vanished into the distance. The firedrakes kept blazing overhead, sending down death. Roen and Fidelity ran on, two souls alone in the inferno.

  CADE

  They flew between the smoke and stars, two dragons, one gold and one all the colors of fire.

  "The damn paladins did us a favor," Cade muttered as they glided. "The smoke hides us."

  That smoke blanketed the forest canopy below, crimson and white and black. The two dragons flew so high the air thinned out, and Cade could barely breathe. As he gazed down at the flaming forest, his eyes stung, and it wasn't only from the smoke.

  Cade had never known such turmoil, such pain, such fear. The entire world seemed to burn, not just the forest below but all his life.

  My home was destroyed. My parents were murdered. My sister is still captive. I'm a refugee, escaped from prison, and the Temple is burning the world to find me.

  Cade did not know how to process such destruction, such a collapse of his life. He was only a baker! The only problem he had ever faced was a collapsing loaf of bread, not a collapsing world. He was used to fire crackling inside his oven, not spreading across sky and forest.

  So many dead or missing. His eyes burned. My sister. My parents. Korvin. Amity. Fidelity and Roen.

  His breath shuddered, and his chest felt so tight it almost crushed his lungs. He turned his head and looked at Domi, seeking some comfort.

  She looked back at him, her eyes large and green. The firelight from below gleamed against her scales. She seemed like a flame herself, airborne, living fire. As he had so many times since his home had burned—in the darkness, in chains, in desolation—he thought about the time she had embraced him, whispered "Requiem" in his ear. Domi had first borne Mercy into his life, had tossed that life into a maelstrom, yet now, looking at Domi, Cade felt his anxiety fade. Domi had sparked this flame, yet now she soothed him. Now he saw goodness to her, the light of a fallen kingdom in her eyes. The Draco constellation shone above her, and as they flew, it seemed to Cade that the two dragons—the living Domi and the celestial dragon woven of starlight—were but echoes of each other. She was starlight woven into flame. She was Requiem risen in the darkness.

  When Cade looked behind him, he saw the firedrakes in the distance, still dipping down to burn more trees. Ahead stretched the southern darkness. The two dragons kept flying until the smoke cleared below, until they left the fire behind. They glided down to fly lower in the sky, then finally landed in a field of grass.

  Here they shifted into human forms. The fire was only an orange glow on the northern horizon, and the song of crickets and rustling grass filled the night.

  "Domi," Cade said, turning to look at her. She stood before him, the grass rising to her knees. "Oh, Domi, I don't know how this all happened. But thank you. Thank you."

  She only stared at him silently, then bit her lip and looked down at her feet. "Don't thank me. I served the Temple. I served our enemy."

  He took her hands in his. "And you fought against them. You saved me from the dungeon."

  A tear streamed down Domi's cheek. "But I couldn't save your baby sister; Eliana is still a captive in the Temple. I couldn't stop Mercy from burning your village, killing your parents."

  Cade felt a lump in his throat. He wanted to tell Domi what he had learned in the Temple, that Beatrix was his mother, that Mercy was his true sister. He wanted to tell her about Korvin falling, Amity burning. He wanted to tell her about all the pain of the past few months, but he could bring none of it to his lips. So he just stared into those large green eyes, and then he embraced her.

  She laid her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. They stood for a long time together in the night, holding each other, and she was warm and slender and eased his fear.

  "Requiem," he whispered into her ear.

  She nodded. "Requiem."

  The world was burning, all its pillars crashing to the ground, but he had Domi again. They lay down to sleep in the grass, and she curled up against him. Cade held her close, never wanting to let go, and slept with her soft breath against his neck.

  GEMINI

  He pounded against the prison cell bars.

  "Let me out,
damn it! Domi! Mercy! Guards!" His chains rattled as he slammed against the bars again and again. "I am Gemini Deus, paladin of the Commonwealth! I demand that you release me!"

  Nobody but the other prisoners answered, cackling, screaming, whispering, mocking, the voices of broken souls, their bodies and minds shattered. He could see no guards, no priests. Gemini slumped to the floor, chains rattling.

  "Domi . . .," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "Why?"

  He couldn't help it. The damn tears flowed down his cheeks. How had it come to this? He loved her! He protected her! He had freed her from this dungeon!

  He balled his hands into fists. They trembled.

  "The whore." He growled and rose to his feet. The chains around his ankles rattled. "You damn whore! I'm going to find you, Domi, and I'm going to gouge out your eyes, and rip out your entrails, and feed your head to the pigs!"

  He fell back to his knees, weeping now. Blood dripped from his hands where his fingernails had cut his palms.

  "Why?" he whispered. "Why, Domi? I love you. I love you."

  He didn't understand. Why had Domi done this to him? Why had she punched him, knocked him out, chained him, locked him here?

  "It wasn't me who imprisoned you here," he whispered. "It was Mercy. Only Mercy."

  He stared between the bars. One cell was open, its prisoner released. The burnt corpses of guards lay strewn across the corridor—guards burnt with dragonfire, Domi's dragonfire. He had to think. He had to understand this.

  She must have blamed me for her imprisonment, he thought. She must think I knew, that I approved it.

  He took a shuddering breath. He had to get out of here. He had to find Domi, to explain that he had come to save her, that he hated his mother and sister. Domi had to understand that he loved her, that he'd always loved her, that he wasn't her enemy.

  "Guards!" he shouted, banging against the bars again. "Guards, damn you!"

  Nobody answered. He slumped back to the floor, curled up, and imagined that he held Domi in his arms.

  He wasn't sure how long it was before he fell asleep, and it was a tortured sleep, something half between wakefulness and nightmares. In his dreams, he was making love to Domi, their naked bodies entwined, only to find that she was a dragon, that she was Pyre again, that in her lovemaking she dug her claws into him, bit him with her fangs, tore the flesh off his bones, ripped him apart, not even realizing she was a dragon, not even realizing that he screamed with pain and not with pleasure. He woke up drenched in sweat, curled up in the corner of his prison cell.

  He waited. He slept again. His throat dried up and his lips cracked. He shouted himself hoarse. And still no guards approached, and still the corpses rotted in the corridor. Had Domi burned down the entire Cured Temple? Did Gemini now languish buried underground, the marble and gold palace toppled above him?

  "I would have toppled this Temple myself for you, Domi," he whispered. "Why did you betray me?"

  He closed his eyes, imagining that she was here with him, that he could hold her body, kiss her pale skin, stroke her red hair, gaze into her green eyes, protect her from the evil of the world, cherish her like a treasure.

  He was drifting back into sleep when he heard the footfalls.

  He bolted up, slammed himself against the bars, and stared out into the corridor.

  Oh bloody Spirit spit.

  His knees trembled. His heart sank. Walking daintily across the ashy floor, holding up the hems of her robes, came High Priestess Beatrix. His mother.

  She came to stand before the bars and stared at him, face stoic.

  "Hello, my son."

  He pressed himself against the bars. "Get me out of here!" His voice was hoarse. Every word tore at his throat, yet still he shouted. "Get me out!"

  The thinnest of smiles stretched her white lips. She took a step back. "You must learn to calm yourself, son. Hysteria does not become a son of Deus."

  He blinked tears away, letting rage consume him. "The weredragon imprisoned me here. She escaped. Let me out! I will hunt her."

  Beatrix sighed. "Both weredragons escaped, son . . . both your whore and your brother."

  "My brother?" He laughed, spraying spit. "Has Mercy finally grown a pair? Mother, you've gone mad!" He grabbed the bars and shook them. "Get the keys! Open this door. I have to find Domi, I have to—"

  "You will not utter that name here!" Beatrix frowned. "You brought that sniveling little reptile into my home. You brought a weredragon into the holiness of the Cured Temple."

  "I didn't know that she—"

  "You lie!" Beatrix sneered. "What kind of paladin are you? I raised you to slay weredragons, not to bed them, not to bring them into my home. She flashed her teats at you, and your brain turned to fog." She barked a laugh. "Perhaps now you learned of their treachery. Your weredragon whore imprisoned you here, the reptile you love. You wanted a weredragon? Enjoy her gift to you."

  The High Priestess turned to walk away.

  "Mother!" Gemini shouted, tears coursing down his cheeks. "Mother, damn you! Come back here! You're the whore, Mother! You are! You cannot leave me here. Release me!" He pounded against the bars. "I am your son! Your son!"

  She paused in the corridor, turned around, and stared back at him. "I have another son now. A son I will recapture. A son who will join you here."

  "You can't leave me here!" Gemini cried.

  Beatrix raised an eyebrow. She stepped back toward him, reached past the bars, and caressed his cheek. "Oh sweet child . . . sweet, innocent child. Don't you remember?"

  He wept. "Remember what?"

  She stroked his hair. "When you were very small, I told you that if you misbehaved, you will end up in this dungeon. You've been a very bad child. You have misbehaved. Enjoy the rest of your life, Gemini. A life of darkness."

  She walked away, and she would not turn back even as Gemini screamed.

  CADE

  He woke up to a dawn of ash, of fading hope, and of a woman he loved sleeping against him.

  Crimson smoke veiled the sun, and only soft red light fell upon the land. On the distant horizon, fire still blazed, and the smell of burnt wood wafted across the grasslands where they lay. Cade turned his eyes toward Domi and watched her sleep. Her hair was like a flame itself, wild and red and orange and shining yellow. Her body was slender, pale, dotted with freckles like the stars. The woman who had whispered "Requiem" into his ear. The woman he had dreamed of in darkness. The woman who had tied him, had borne Mercy upon her back, had ruined his life and then given him hope—here she lay in his arms.

  She woke slowly, her eyes opening to slits.

  "Cade," she whispered.

  He pulled strands of her hair off her eyes and tucked them behind her ears. "Hello, Domi."

  She nestled closer to him, her leg lying across him, and touched his cheek. "You're real. You're really here. Everything that happened—the burning city, the forest, the flight through the smoke—I thought it was a nightmare. But I can feel you, Cade. You're real."

  He nodded, a lump in his throat. "I wish it were all a dream. Everything. From the first day when you arrived in my village, a wild firedrake, Mercy on your back."

  She looked down. He saw the pain that caused her. When she looked back up, her eyes shone damply. "I'm sorry, Cade," she whispered. "I'm so sorry for that day. For who I was. For the things Mercy did while I watched and didn't stop her. I'm so sorry for your parents, for your village."

  He nodded, looking away, not sure how he felt. Did he hate Domi? Did he love her? Was she his ally or his enemy, a great warrior for Requiem or one who fought against that fallen kingdom?

  "You told me about Requiem," he whispered. "I never forgot how you whispered that word into my ear, how much I could feel it meant to you, to everyone. How much it came to mean to me."

  She crawled up to straddle him, looked down at his face, and touched his cheeks. "And I never forgot you, Cade. Another Vir Requis, the first one I had met in years. I never forgot how, in a world
of cruel paladins and the searing light of the Temple, you seemed good to me. Innocent. Almost childlike but . . . but strong." She lowered her eyes. "I often thought of you too. In the darkness of my lair, as I curled up, hurt, the lashes Gemini had given me blazing on my back, I thought of you. I pretended sometimes, when I lay in darkness, alone and afraid and cold, that you lay there with me, that I could hug you, kiss you, and—" She bit her lip and blushed furiously. "I've said too much."

  Cade lay on his back, never wanting to move, never wanting her to leave. She seemed almost weightless upon him, her pale knees pressed against him, her feet folded underneath her, her head lowered, her hair brushing his face. He reached up to touch that hair, to tuck it back under her ears, and found himself stroking it again and again, then caressing her face, drowning in her eyes. She leaned down, and her lips brushed his, and he kissed her.

  It was a hesitant kiss at first, a few pecks of the lips, but it morphed into a deep, passionate thing, a kiss he could drown into. Cade pushed himself onto his elbows, and Domi sat in his lap, her legs spread around him, and he kept kissing her, intoxicated by her, sure this too was a dream. This could not be real. It felt too good, too sad, too hazy, like thoughts after too much wine. And yet she felt real, her body soft and warm in his hands.

  "Cade," she whispered into his ear, kissing him. "Requiem."

  She straightened, still sitting in his lap, and pulled off her tunic and tossed it aside. She remained naked above him. Her body was white as milk, strewn with countless freckles, her waist slender, her breasts small, and he kissed every part of her. He did not know what he was doing. He had never made love to a woman before, but he had made love to Domi countless times in his dreams. Perhaps this too was but another dream. If so, it was one he never wanted to wake from.

  They made love in the grass, slowly, gently, then wildly, desperately, and Domi bit her lip so hard he thought she would bleed, and she wrapped her limbs around him so tightly it almost hurt. Finally he cried out, and she gasped, and they lay together for a long time on the grass, spent, too weak to rise, too uncertain of what they had done, of the reality or dreams of this landscape and their lovemaking.