Dragons Reborn

by Daniel Arenson

  His horns pierced the bottom of the ship, and Cade roared and lashed his claws, tearing through the floor, ripping out wooden flanks. Water gushed into the ship.

  Cade tugged himself free from the hull, swam, and soared up from the sea, wings raining water. The blazing ship sank beneath him, but hundreds more spread all around. In the south, ships of the Horde were sinking, collapsing, blazing. The sea itself seemed to burn.

  We're losing our army, Cade realized in horror. Our griffins and salvanae keep falling dead. Our ships keep sinking. He trembled in the sky. We'll never even reach the coast of the Commonwealth, never mind the Temple.

  As one of the Horde's baghlah ships sank before Cade, he heard a voice cry out behind him.

  "Hello again, brother! Hello, Cade! I bring you a gift of fire, and I bring you the song of death!"

  Cade growled. He knew that voice. He spun in the sky and he saw her there. She flew upon a white firedrake, her cape billowing, holding a lance and shield.

  Mercy Deus. His sister.

  Her firedrake charged toward him, and her lance thrust, its tip smeared with green ilbane.

  Cade roared and flew toward her, blowing his dragonfire.

  Her white firedrake opened its jaws wide, and its cry tore through the sky, tore at Cade's ears, high pitched, twanging, beastly. Flames gushed forth from the gullet and swept toward Cade.

  The two jets of fire crashed together and cast out great fountains like an exploding sun.

  The two beasts—a golden dragon and a white firedrake—charged through the inferno and crashed together.

  At once their claws lashed and their teeth snapped. The white firedrake was smaller than average—even smaller than Cade—but it was a wild thing, twisting, clawing, shrieking. Cade had the sudden vision of some rabid, flying ferret covered in scales, thrashing in the sky. Fangs drove into Cade's shoulder and he yowled. Atop the white firedrake, Mercy raised her spear, prepared to thrust down the poisoned blade.

  Cade hissed and swooped, dodging the lance, and flew across the sky. He soared toward the sun through smoke and flame, weaving around battling griffins and firedrakes, then spun downward. As ships blazed below, Mercy and her firedrake soared toward him. A golden dragon and a white firedrake, they charged toward each other again.

  Cade rained fire. The jet crashed into the white firedrake, spraying Mercy. The paladin raised her shield, protecting herself from the inferno. The white firedrake reached out its claws and crashed into Cade again.

  Cade drove down his fangs, trying to rip out the firedrake's neck, but his teeth slammed into scales as hard as steel armor. He could not pierce them. The rabid beast grabbed Cade in its claws, digging into him, holding him in the air. Cade beat his wings madly but couldn't free himself.

  On the firedrake's back, Mercy rose in her stirrups and hefted her lance, prepared to thrust it into Cade's neck. Cade kicked and whipped his tail and beat his wings, but the firedrake held him fast.

  "Feel the poison!" Mercy laughed. "Feel my lance drive through your neck as it drove through the neck of the gray beast."

  She thrust the lance.

  Cade yowled and released his magic.

  The lance thrust above his head as he shrank to human form. He slipped free from the firedrake's grip and tumbled down toward the sea.

  He tried to summon his magic again, but he was so tired. He was bleeding from several cuts. The blazing ships spread below, many of them sinking. Corpses rained around him, both of men and beasts. Smoke filled Cade's lungs, and the sea rushed up to meet him, and Mercy shrieked above.

  Shift!

  Cade gritted his teeth, reaching for his magic, desperate to clutch it. It kept slipping from him. A ship burned beneath him, and smoke filled his nostrils, and—

  Finally he grabbed the magic, shifted and soared.

  He rose up, seeking Mercy, but found a hundred griffins, firedrakes, and salvanae now between him and his sister. The sky burned with the battle.

  "Mercy!" he roared. "Mercy, where are you?"

  Cade flew through the battle, trying to see her. Arrows rose from the ships below, and one skimmed along his scales, and another sank into one of the spikes on his tail. All around him, more ships of the Horde sank, and tens of thousands of men bustled through the water like flies in blood, crying out, silenced, sinking.

  And ever the ships of the Temple advanced.

  White, towering vessels, they plowed through the sinking fleet of the Horde. Their cannons carved out their path, and two firedrakes flew above each ship, blasting down fire to clear any advancing Horde vessel. Again and again, the paladins on their firedrakes descended, blasting fire. Again and again, ships of the Horde sank. For every Templer vessel burned, ten ships of the Horde vanished into the water, their warriors drowned, leaving nothing but the memory of screams.

  The Temple's fleet tore through the Horde's armada like a spear through flesh. Even the prodigious Behemoth roared in agony, floundering in the water, unable to fly, unable to charge. It swam like some obese, furless dog, and a hundred firedrakes kept charging toward it, bathing it with fire, tearing at its skin with claws. Again and again, the paladins fired their arrows, piercing Behemoth, and its blood filled the water.

  "Mercy!" Cade roared, flying through the battle, seeking her. He had to find her again. He had to kill her. He could end this battle. He could kill its general. He—

  "Cade!"

  Fidelity came flying toward him. Burns marred her blue scales, and she bled from several gashes on her arms.

  "Fidelity!"

  She reached him and hovered in the air, panting. Her eyes were red. "Cade, we have to fly back! Back to Terra!" The blue dragon looked down at the Templer armada; a hundred ships had already plowed through the Horde and were sailing south. "Mercy hasn't just sailed here to stop our fleet. She's going to land on the coast and slay every woman and child of the Horde she can find. We have to fly back! We have to save them."

  Cade stared down at the Templer ships sailing south. He stared up at the firedrakes, salvanae, and griffins still fighting above. He stared at the Horde's sinking fleet, and his heart seemed to sink just as low, and fear washed over him, as cold and suffocating as the sea's embrace.

  AMITY

  "Burn the ships!" Amity shouted. "Horde, fight! Fight them! Griffins, to me! Salvanae, fight, burn the firedrakes!" She flew through the inferno, burnt, cut, screaming. "Vir Requis, rally here! Requiem, burn the ships!"

  Amity couldn't even see the other dragons. Korvin had been flying at her side only moments ago, but he had vanished. Amity called out to him. She called out to Domi, to Roen, even to that snot-nosed boy Cade. They had vanished into the darkness and the fire. Amity flew, dodging cannonballs, roaring as arrows scraped against her. She soared, flying between firedrakes, holding them back with her dragonfire. She dived toward the black sea, coughing from the smoke that rose from her ships. Most of those ships were gone now, buried under the sea. Most of her warriors, valiant men and women of the Horde, had burned and drowned in the water. Most of her dreams of conquest, of triumph, of a mighty flight into the Cured Temple, burned with the devastation of her forces.

  No.

  Amity trembled. She could barely beat her wings. She could summon no more fire to breathe, only sparks and smoke.

  This wasn't supposed to happen. She beat her wings, flying through the smoke, seeking the others, calling out for them, calling for the ships, for her warriors, for a shred of hope.

  We were supposed to sail toward the beaches of the Commonwealth, to sweep across their land, to conquer the north.

  Now all her army, all she had fought for, the hosts she had tamed Behemoth for, slain Shafel for, bled and killed for, all burned and screamed and drowned under the waves. The sun set across the battle, and the sun set upon her hope.

  "Amity!" The roar rose from below, hoarse and rumbling. "Amity, we must return to the coast!"

  She looked down. Her vision was hazy. Smoke, tears, and flying scraps of bu
rning sails hid her world. It felt like flying underwater. Through the murkiness he rose, a great charcoal dragon: Korvin.

  "This wasn't meant to happen . . .," Amity whispered as the gray dragon rose to hover before her. "Korvin, this wasn't meant to—"

  Howls rose above, and heat bathed Amity as three firedrakes came diving toward her. She tried to roar fire, but only sparks left her jaws; she was too weak, drained of her flames. She soared, lashed her claws, and whipped her tail. Korvin fought at her side, biting into the enemies, sending them crashing down.

  "Amity, we must return to Terra!" he shouted. "Hundreds of Templer ships broke through, and the Horde's women and children are on the beaches."

  Amity yowled and spun back north. "We must fly to the Commonwealth—to Requiem, Korvin! To Requiem!" She dived down, roaring for whatever warriors of the Horde remained alive. "Fly with me, Horde! Sail forth! Charge ahead! To the north, to the north!"

  Korvin grabbed her tail, growling. "Amity, the women and children! They'll die without us!"

  Her eyes stung. "And what of the women and children in Requiem?" Tears flowed down her scaled cheeks. "What of the babies Mercy is murdering because they're born with dragon magic? What of them, Korvin?"

  "We can no longer save them!" he shouted, lashing his tail at a swooping firedrake. "Not like this, not this night! Amity!" He tried to grab her. "You are Queen of the Horde. You must protect your women and children."

  "I must protect Requiem!" she roared, tears in her eyes.

  She charged through the battle, cutting through smoke, fire, raining blood. She flew across ships of her army, trying to save them, to steer than onward to the north. She flew among griffins and salvanae caught in a sky of firedrakes. She flew over the dark water, over thousands of drowning people, and she was there again, a child again, flying over the sea, trying to save her parents, watching them fall dead into the water, watching them vanish, watching her life shatter, fleeing, weeping, screaming, vanishing into long shadows that engulfed her for years.

  Where are you, Mother? cried a voice deep inside her. Father, where are you?

  The sea seemed to burn in the night, the sinking ships a thousand stars, blazing with red fire. All was darkness and light, shadows and smoke, terror and memory. Defeat. Grief. Death.

  I lived then, Amity thought as she flew through the smoke. I survived, a frightened little girl, a girl grown into a vanquished queen. She turned to look south. Past smoke and light they were sailing: the ships of the Templers, driving out from the ruin they had left on the water. And beyond the miles, beyond the dark water and death, they waited: the women, children, and elders of the Horde. Children—like the child she had been. Children whose parents she, Amity, had led to death in fire and water. Children whose blood would be on her hands.

  She wept.

  Goodbye, Requiem. I will not forget you. I will never stop fighting for you. But now I must fight for them.

  Amity wheeled around in the sky, wings churning the black smoke, and flew south. She flew over the blazing masts of the sinking ships, over the corpses of men and beasts, caught between fire and shadow, until she reached Korvin. Until she reached the other Vir Requis. They flew together, emerging from the inferno, the ruin of their fleet. They flew south, back to the continent of Terra, back to save whoever they could before the world burned in the light of the Cured Temple.

  GEMINI

  He stood in the brig, shouting and pounding against the door.

  "Let me out! Spirit, let me out!"

  The ship swayed madly around him. Gemini fell, banging his elbow, rose to his feet again, then swayed and banged his head against the wall. The sounds of battle sounded from above: roaring dragons, clanging swords, screaming men, crackling fire. The Temple was attacking the Horde, and he was trapped here in the bowels of a ship, a prisoner again. The lanterns swung madly on the walls, casting dancing shadows. Gemini banged again at the wooden door.

  "Let me out!"

  With every movement, his back blazed with pain, and blood dripped from his wounds. The weredragons had beaten him, then whipped him. He was weak, maybe dying. The ship kept rocking, banging him against the walls and floor, tossing him around like dice in a shaken cup. His wounds throbbed. His head spun as madly as the ship, and every breath sawed through his throat.

  "Domi!" he shouted. "Domi, let me out!"

  He knew she couldn't hear him. Countless men and beasts were roaring above, cannons blasted, wood creaked, a deafening din. Gemini could barely hear himself scream. Domi must be flying high above the battle now, blasting out her fire. Mercy would be flying there too; Gemini was sure of it. He had to get out. He had to face his sister. He had to kill her himself, to take her place, to rule both Horde and Temple.

  "Anyone!" he shouted hoarsely, pounding against the door again and again. "I am Lord Gemini Deus! Let me out!"

  For an instant, the battle seemed almost quiet. The shouts from above faded. Only a few distant griffins shrieked.

  Then, with roaring, blazing, all-consuming wrath and sound, the fists of a god pounded against the ship.

  Gemini shouted and covered his ears.

  Wood cracked. A cannonball tore through the ceiling and slammed down behind him, shattering the floor. Slats of wood rose like the fangs of some mechanical beast. Water, cold and black, gushed into the brig.

  Gemini stared around with horror. The water rose around his ankles, then rose to his knees. Streams of more water gushed in from the walls. No more men screamed above upon the deck, only the roar of fire. The walls creaked, more water gushed in, and the brig tilted madly. Gemini stumbled and banged against the wall. Around him, he knew, the ship was sinking.

  Fear, cold and wet as the ocean, flooded Gemini.

  I'm going to drown. I'm going to die here. He trembled as the water rose to his waist. I'll never get to kill Mercy. I'll never see Domi again.

  He thought of Domi's green eyes, her beautiful presence, an angel lying beside him in his bed, draped in sunlight.

  I cannot lose you.

  Gemini took a deep, shuddering breath and slogged through the water. He slammed against the door again and again. Water raced in, and more wood cracked, slats slamming down and shattering. The water was so deep now Gemini was swimming, his feet no longer touching the floor. He grabbed a slat of wood that thrust out from the wall and tugged, screaming, tearing it aside. He grabbed another slat. He pulled and widened the hole. More water raced in, mixed with blood. The lamps in the brig shattered and fell into the water, plunging him into darkness.

  Gemini gritted his teeth and shoved himself through the hole. The wooden slats scraped against the wounds on his back, and he yowled, nearly passing out from the pain. Water slammed down against him, filling his mouth, and he coughed, pulled himself forward, dragged himself out of the brig. Blindly he swam, climbed, tugged himself up the stairs, and finally shoved a hatch open and crawled onto the deck.

  The gates of the Abyss seemed to have opened around him, spewing forth their evil.

  A thousand ships burned in the night, shattered, and sank around him, most of them the vessels of the Horde. Countless men screamed in the water, burnt, drowning. Thousands of corpses floated or sank. The skies were a reflection of the terror below; griffins flew above, blazing. Salvanae roared, their scales dangling loose, their wounds dripping. Countless firedrakes screamed above, spewing flame, and in the distance, Gemini could make out the carracks of the Cured Temple.

  Mercy is here somewhere.

  "Sister!" he shouted. "Mer—"

  The deck swayed beneath him, and he fell to his knees. He looked around him, and his heart sank. His ship's deck had shattered in two, and wooden slats rose like quills on a porcupine. A mast cracked and fell down beside him, shattering more planks. Only a few scattered men still lived on the ship; Cade watched a few leap into a rowboat and begin to row away, only for a firedrake to plunge from the sky and burn them.

  Gemini stared around in terror. More cannonballs slammed
into the sinking ship, and he fell back down. The sky burned. The sea raged. A wave soared, demonic and black, and crashed down onto him. He swallowed water and coughed, and when the wave subsided, he realized that the deck was now fully submerged.

  I'm going to die here. I'm going to drown. He panted. I'm going to die, oh Spirit, please don't let me die, please—

  He clenched his fists.

  No.

  He growled and rose to his feet on the submerged deck. The water rose to his knees.

  No, I'm going to live. He shouted to the sky, arms tossed back.

  "I am Gemini Deus, and I'm going to live!" He laughed, the world spinning around him. Burning scraps of human skin rained from the sky. "I'm going to live! Do you hear me, Mercy? Do you hear me, Domi? You cannot kill me! No one can kill me! I am Gemini and I will rule the Temple!"

  The deck gave a crack underwater. Bubbles shot up, the last air fleeing the cabins below. The ship plunged down into the sea.

  Laughing, Gemini vanished under the water with it.

  The air fleeing the cabins roared up around him, millions of bubbles. He tried to kick and swim but could not in the froth. He kept sinking, and the air ached in his lungs. Men sank around him, heavy in their armor, kicking but finding no way to swim in the roiling bubbles.

  One drowning man slammed against Gemini. He grabbed the man and shoved as powerfully as he could, pushing himself sideways, out of the froth escaping the sinking ship. He kicked, desperate for air, and rose in the water. Firelight blazed above, and Gemini had to breathe, had to open his mouth, to fill his lungs, even if it was seawater. Stars floated behind his eyes. He had to sink. He had to breathe. He—

  No. I will live.

  He kicked madly.

  He breached the surface.

  He gulped down hot, smoky, beautiful air.

  He floated in the dark sea, the flames raging around him. Flotsam floated everywhere, most of it burning. Corpses were sinking in their armor, and more kept raining from the sky. Some ships listed and slowly sank; most were already gone. The only ships that still floated were the warships of the Cured Temple, white carracks and brigantines. They were distant, sailing away, leaving him here.