Ascension: The Dragons of Kendualdern

by Sam Ferguson

  She knew it would only be a matter of time before the king would be able to tear through the false images. Siravel broke the connection abruptly, knowing that either the king would believe her now, or he never would. “Have you seen enough to satisfy your mind?” she asked in a sultry voice. She bent her body to rub it alongside the king’s. “Perhaps now we can move on to more… substantive issues.”

  The king’s nostrils flared. A red glow burned from within his silver breast. “Not here,” he said. “We shall move on to the spawning chamber.”

  Siravel smiled and swished her tail before the king’s snout. The king’s wings twitched and smoke snaked out from his nostrils. “Take me there,” she said.

  The king dismissed the guardian dragons and led Siravel back down into the damp, cool tunnels. He expelled all of the other queens and breeding dames from the spawning chamber with a single, flaming roar. None of them even bothered to look at Siravel as they all ran out as fast as they could.

  “I like privacy for the first time,” the king said.

  Siravel bent her neck low. “Such is tradition when taking a new queen.” She moved into the shadows, holding her tail high above her. She then stretched out and stuck her hind quarters into the air. She watched as the king focused in on her. She carefully bent her neck lower to the ground and opened it so the dwarves could escape out the side. “Come,” she said. “Take your prize.”

  The king moved in from the left, while the dwarves moved around Siravel’s right side, staying slightly under her as they crept along. The king came close, and lowered his head next to hers. “Before we begin,” he said, “I should say that I already have a high queen. You shall be here, with the others.”

  Siravel turned and nuzzled the side of his snout. “Perhaps you should reserve that decision for after.”

  The king sneered hungrily and turned his head away. That was the opening she was looking for. She reached up and snapped her jaws around the king’s neck just behind the silver dragon’s skull. She pulled and flipped over onto her back as she used her talons to tear and shred the king’s underbelly.

  The king fought back with tremendous power, nearly shaking free, but the dwarf soldiers jumped in, stabbing and hacking at the king’s exposed groin, and sapping him of all of his strength. The king’s hind legs could hardly move in light of his grievous wounds. Siravel continued to pull, rolling the king along the stone until he was on his back and she pinned him down. The dwarves went to work moving from the groin to the tail. They hacked and chopped at it until the tail was cut from the king’s rump. Blood shot all around from the gaping hole. A small, blue flame danced upon the hot blood as it spread over the stone.

  Siravel jerked with her head, reaching up with her talons to stab through the king’s neck, until the spine finally snapped, and the king went limp. She dropped his head, letting it flop against the stone. She stared at her victim, her eyes wide and her breathing heavy. The queen stepped away from the corpse and looked around. There were several eggs in the chamber that were waiting to be transported out to their nursery. Most of them were yet uncleansed, and still bore the blood and mucus that comes with laying them. She quickly set about, looking for the right prize. As she searched, she crushed the other eggs in her talons. She was not going to take chances of any reprisal for her attack.

  To her dismay, the crowned egg from the green dragon’s memory was not there. She turned to her companions and established the connection with them. “We must find the nursery.” They ran up to her and she let them into her mouth once more without regard for the blood upon their armor.

  She knew there would be no dragons nearby. The king had expelled them for the night. No dwarves were likely to be nearby either, for fear of the king’s wrath should they be caught. She stepped out of the spawning chamber and looked up the tunnel. She moved quietly, using the memories she had stolen from the green dragon to guide her back up the cold, dark tunnels. As a queen, she had a good idea where a nursery might be. She moved into a tunnel on the left that sloped up and was much thinner than the main tunnel. It was still large enough for her to walk through, but it was a bit of a tight fit.

  She smiled when she saw a single red dragon standing before an opening to a chamber. It was one of the guardian dragons from the green dragon’s memory. She moved in quickly, as if she knew precisely where she was going.

  The red dragon looked to her and moved to block her path, but Siravel snatched the dragon’s neck and squeezed her deadly sharp talons through the beast’s neck. As a queen, she was much larger than the sentry, and he posed little threat to her whatsoever, so long as she kept him from crying out and sounding a general alarm. She laid the corpse down and moved into the chamber.

  From within she could smell the unmistakable scent of burning wood.

  A curious dwarf peeked out from over a book behind a table. “I don’t recognize you,” she said in a squeaky voice.

  Siravel smiled and moved into the chamber. Her tail swung out fiercely, crushing the she-dwarf to the ground. She scanned the room and her heart swelled when she saw the red spot on the crowned egg. “Salvation,” she said aloud. She dropped her head and released her soldiers. “From here you walk.” She scooped the crowned egg into her mouth and cradled it with her tongue. The group then moved quickly out from the chamber and back down the hall.

  The dwarves ran ahead, their armor rattling as they sprinted down the hall. Siravel kept an even, but slow gait, keeping an eye on the warriors. As they entered the main cavern, another pair of dragons walked before them. Siravel noticed they were two of the three that had escorted her into the mountain. They turned and saw her. They looked down to the dwarves. Siravel knew it was no longer going to be easy.

  She lunged forward, knocking the closest dragon to the ground. The dwarves jumped out hacking and stabbing at the beast as it spewed fire around. The second dragon roared angrily, sounding the alarm for everyone in the mountain. Siravel dispatched the first dragon and then reached up with her forelegs and ran her talons through the second dragon’s eyes and into the brain cavity. She yanked the dragon down onto the stone and lowered her tail to the dwarf warriors.

  The six armored dwarves jumped onto her tail and climbed up as she ran through the hall. A group of dwarves came into the cavern from a smaller tunnel. One of Siravel’s warriors leapt off and hacked three of them down before they could even raise a weapon. A greater drake came out from the same tunnel and devoured the dwarf with fire, reducing him to ash. Siravel struck out with her left hind leg, crushing the drake against the stone, pressing with all of her might as the bones snapped and the drake squealed in pain.

  The other dwarves hung on tightly as Siravel continued out of the spire. She could hear the tumult from behind her. Shouting dwarves, roaring dragons, and gongs echoed through the hall. She had to escape the tunnel, else she would be trapped inside. A white dragon barreled toward her. Normally she would have thrown a wall of flame at the enemy, but the egg in her mouth would not survive that. Without the egg, she could not return to her husband. She lowered her head and flipped her tail over her back, launching two of the five remaining dwarves. The experienced warriors shouted angrily, each holding their weapons over their heads, ready to strike when they finally collided with the white dragon.

  The oncoming dragon looked up and opened his mouth to obliterate the flying dwarves. Siravel lunged forward, ahead of the dwarves in the air above her. She lashed out and caught the white dragon in the throat. Her talons scraped across the tough scales, unable to reach the tender flesh beneath. The white dragon recoiled and raised its arms to tangle with Siravel, but it was no match for her sheer size. Siravel pushed the dragon back, and the dwarves landed on the beast’s snout, one up near the left eye, and the other closer to the nostrils.

  They both brought their weapons down furiously. The white dragon’s left eye split as the closer dwarf drove his axe through the large orb, spilling blood and the gelatinous goop from within the eye over the side
of the dragon’s snout. The second dwarf did not fare as well. His axe glanced off the hard scales, and as the dragon recoiled in pain when its eye was put out, the second dwarf tumbled down into the beast’s maw and was lost in the spear-like fangs and the blazing fire that erupted out.

  Siravel bowled the dragon over, flipping it to its back and pressing down with all of her might. Her talons pierced through the tender flesh under the jawline. A gush of blood spurted out as she struck an artery and the white dragon convulsed harmlessly. The surviving dwarf barely managed to escape the tumbling dragon and catch one of his comrade’s arms as they reached out from Siravel’s tail.

  The queen made it to the platform outside with no additional resistance. She stretched her wings and launched up into the night sky.

  Something heavy slammed into her spine, and teeth crunched down on her shoulder and neck. Luckily, it was a normal sized dragon, which was less than half her size. Had it been a greater dragon, such a surprise attack could have pierced her scales and been fatal. As it was, the blow still took her down to the ground. Siravel slammed onto the stone and dirt, still managing to wrap the egg in her tongue to absorb the shock. She heard the clanking armor across the stone and knew that her dwarves had been thrown from her back, but she couldn’t bother herself with that.

  Siravel spotted a large patch of moss nestled between a trio of large boulders. If there was any place that she could stash the egg and hope for its survival while she dealt with her attackers, this was it. She stretched her neck out, ignoring the vice-like bites of the attacking dragon, and deposited her prize on the soft moss. She knew she would have to be quick. The moss was cold and damp, and the night air would only decrease the egg’s temperature.

  No sooner was her prize safe then she turned her head around and clamped down on the attacking dragon’s skull. The scales bent and then snapped as she squeezed. The skull then caved in and she removed the lifeless body from her back. She looked up to see a group of dwarf soldiers engaging her own dwarves. She moved in and swept a dozen of the attackers away with one swift sweep of her tail, flinging the wailing bodies through the air to land well over two hundred meters away from the fight. Siravel’s four warriors easily dealt with the rest.

  A cry came from above and Siravel spotted several lesser dragons pouring out from a cave higher up in the spire. She launched into the air, eager to attack them before they could form a cohesive attack against her. She blew her hot flame through one of the smaller dragon’s wings, rendering it unable to fly. It screamed as it crashed down in front of the four dwarf warriors below. She ripped a second dragon’s tail from its body with a single swipe of her taloned foreleg, and then she used it as a club to knock a third back into the obsidian spire. Both of the dragons crumbled from the sky and Siravel climbed higher. She bit one lesser dragon in the middle and broke its spine. She took the body and stuffed it into the tunnel from which the others were trying to exit the mountain.

  Siravel built up the heat in her body, calling upon all of her strength and fury. She unleashed a tidal wave of white and green flame, pouring it into the tunnel. The black rock groaned and cracked under the pressure. The stones began to glow orange, then red, and then they liquefied. The molten rock plopped down, filling the tunnel and smothering any lesser dragon unable to escape. The horrid wails and screams lasted only seconds before the whole spire shifted. A great, glowing red section of the spire twisted as the mountain began to collapse on itself. The thin, jagged point swerved and the red section collapsed on itself, oozing molten rock out as the two still solid sections of the tower connected.

  Siravel released her grip on the spire and made a wide circle out to the south. She saw the larger dragons exiting from the opening below. She knew she didn’t have enough energy left to seal that tunnel the way she had the first, but she had another idea. She flew in fast and hard, aiming for the top section of the spire. It rose above the glowing red line about three hundred meters. It was a jagged section, too thin to have many tunnels inside, and the molten rock would have sealed them off anyhow.

  She slammed into it with all of her strength, driving her legs and beating her wings furiously. A thunderous crack echoed through the air and the top section slid forward on the molten line. Two seconds later, the jagged spire toppled over, crashing down onto the platform below where the entrance to the tower was. Four dragons squeaked out as the rock crushed and covered them. The giant spike broke into many large shards and boulders, effectively sealing off the opening and smothering all it fell upon. Siravel then used the last of her energy to melt the pile into a plug, filling every crack in the opening.

  Siravel smiled wickedly and laughed at her victory.

  She dropped to the ground, listening to the trapped cries from within the mountain. She knew with the king dead, there were none inside who could rival her strength. The dragons would rely on the dwarves to dig them out after the molten rock had cooled.

  Someone coughed nearby. Siravel turned and saw a single survivor from her pack of dwarves. His black armor was covered in slick, crimson blood. He coughed, cleared his throat, and then spit upon the ground before replacing his sword into its sheath and walking toward her. Siravel moved beyond the dwarf, retrieving the egg from the mossy nest between the boulders. The shell was cool to the touch, but it was whole and undamaged. She took it again in her mouth. Then she put her tail out for the surviving dwarf. He clambered on with strong hands and wobbling legs. She could tell he was near exhausted from the short, yet intense battle.

  Without wasting another moment, she took to the sky and flew in a southeastern direction. Her home was to the southwest, but she wanted to give the impression that she was heading east in case any could see her escape. Only when she was certain she had escaped the visage of spying eyes would she circle back toward the west. She flew on for about an hour, covering at least one hundred kilometers and distancing herself from the black spire and all who were inside still.

  Siravel spied a small meadow set inside a great forest, and there she landed to rest for a time. Two great battles in such a short period was much to ask of her aging body. Perhaps too much. Her knees and shoulders ached as she set down upon the cool grass. Her tail slumped to the earth and she let her body follow a moment later. The fires burning within her chest were cooler now. Her breathing slowed and she let her head curl around to meet her tail. She opened her mouth and let the egg roll out onto the grass. With one nostril, she blew a stream of fire under the egg. The grass scorched and withered to ash and the ground hissed against the fire.

  She looked at the egg and smiled. It was almost exactly the same in appearance as Gorliad’s egg had been. A similar white shell with a red spot for a crown across the top. It would not be hard to convince Geldryn that it was in fact her egg. She needed only to rest a bit more before finishing the journey back to her home.

  The dwarf slid down her side and looked at the egg, smoothing his red beard down over his armor. He looked up to Siravel with eyes of jade and squinted at her. “Will Geldryn not find it strange that you bring forth an egg the very day Gorliad is wounded?”

  Siravel narrowed her eyes at the dwarf. “I am in my cycle,” she said. “He and I have mated the past six nights. There would be nothing strange about it.”

  The dwarf nodded. “Cycles aside, my queen, you have only born one crowned egg in the last couple of centuries. He may not believe that you were able to bring another. He would not accept a stolen egg as his own.”

  Siravel caught the dwarf in the connection, seizing his muscles and forcing him to be still.

  “I do not explain myself to dwarves. Nor shall anyone know of our adventures.” Siravel broke the connection and moved in with a single bite, severing the dwarf in twain. She spit his top half out and then roasted the body until only ash and charred armor remained. Should Geldryn suspect anything there would be no witnesses to confirm any wrong doing. Her secret was safe.

  From above she caught the faint, yet distinct sound
of wings. These were not the small, fragile wings of a lesser dragon either. These belonged to something larger, much larger. She turned her golden eyes upward and saw a great form descending upon her. A massive, blue she-dragon dashed the trees on the edge of the meadow and landed forcefully on the ground, shaking the clearing in which Siravel lay. Great, blue eyes zeroed in on the egg, and then darted up to Siravel’s eyes.

  “That is my egg,” the dragon hissed. “Roll it away, so we may fight for it.”

  Siravel slid her talons out around the egg, scraping the points over the smooth surface. She watched the blue dragon tense and stare at the egg. “This egg is mine.”

  The blue dragon shuddered and bellowed a loud roar that bent the grass toward Siravel and bathed her in hot breath. Siravel spun the egg away and lunged forward. The two dragons collided. Their impact shook the ground. Siravel clawed at the blue queen’s neck, but the scales were thick and hard. The blue queen reached around and bit at the nape of Siravel’s neck, splitting one of her scale and piercing the flesh with one of her fangs. Siravel howled in pain and pushed the blue dragon away with her forelegs. The blue dragon crashed through a trio of pine trees, snapping them like dry branches against a rolling boulder.

  Siravel lunged forward, landing on the blue dragon and pummeling her with her forelegs. She then tilted her head and gored the blue dragon in the tender flesh under blue queen’s left foreleg. The blue dragon roared out and head-butted Siravel away. The two tumbled and rolled through the forest, crushing trees and flinging dirt up into the air. The two blew fire at one another, but neither was able to make much headway against the other.

  A blue, spiked tail flung out at Siravel from the side. Siravel managed to duck under it, and then she launched into the air and flung her tail underneath like a whip, slicing the blue dragon’s snout on the left side. The blue dragon’s head whipped back and exposed the flesh under her jaw. Siravel went in for the kill. The blue dragon stretched out her wing and pushed Siravel off, but that move came at a high cost. The blue queen’s wing snapped in the middle, crippling her.