by C. K. Rieke
It crashed to the wet ground with a high splash of wet sand, and Lilaci let her Sanzoral fade back to rest. All fighting had ceased around them, as every living soul stopped to witness the death of the old dragon. The ground shook as the dragon’s neck hit the sand, its yellow eyes still open, but half-hidden underneath its eyelids. The rains landed on its motionless head as Lilaci looked at it, tears welling up in her own eyes.
“I’ll get you for this, Dânoz . . .” She ran toward Roren, as quickly as her feet could carry her. As she ran, the remaining four dragons each looked at each other and the two dead dragons, and they all at once took to the skies again. Wrathwing flew over to Kera’s side, and Herradax flew off after the dragons.
“No, stay here with me,” Kera said up to the dragon. “You’ll see them again, there’s someone you have to meet before you go off again.” Herradax floated back down to her and laid on the sands to rest.
Lilaci threw her sword and dagger down as the rain hit her face and neck as she ran. As she got closer she watched as Veranor was kneeling next to Roren, whispering to him. He stood as Lilaci approached and took a step back. Lilaci dove to her knees at Roren’s side.
“Oh, Roren,” she said as the tears streamed down her cheeks, and her jaw quivered. She looked at the cloth that had been placed over his body with many wide pools of blood dotting it. His normally, beautifully vibrant, dark skin was growing pale.
He tried to smile and coughed up a spatter of blood. “Too . . . too bad there’s no fountain to cure me this time.” He laughed, but a grim look came over his face as his bright blue eyes stared up at Lilaci.
“Don’t joke about that,” she said. “I’m sure Veranor and Burr are working on something to heal you as we speak. Just . . . conserve your strength. You’re going to be all right.”
“Lilaci,” he said as he reached his hand up and she took it in both of hers.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Veranor told me I’m dying.”
Lilaci’s head dropped and she couldn’t help but be choked up by the tears.
“Lilaci.” He coughed. “Look at me.”
She lifted her head and saw he was crying. “I’m here.”
“We did it, didn’t we?”
She laughed and shook her head up and down. “Yes, we did. We did it. You saved me again. You’ve got a knack for that . . .”
“Kera . . . is Kera here?” he asked.
“I’m here,” Kera said as she walked over to his other side, bending down. Her face was wet with tears. The rains continued to fall on them in the storm.
“You’ll be safe with Lilaci now, I’m afraid my time as your protector is over . . .”
Kera dropped her head to sob, then she lifted her head and took a deep breath. “You’ve done a glorious job at your duty. She put her hand on his forehead and brushed back his hair. She lowered her head and kissed his forehead. “I relieve you from your command, your mission is complete. You may move onto where the winds take you. I will miss you, brave Roren of the Order of Drakon. Songs will be sung of your bravery by our people and their kin.”
Roren choked up and closed his eyes as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Thank you. It has been an honor serving you, my queen.” He coughed up blood again and winced in pain. “Lilaci . . .”
“Yes, I’m here,” she said, still clutching his hand in hers.
“There’s something I need to tell you, something I wasn’t brave enough to say before, but I need to say now.” The tears from Lilaci’s eyes flowed heavily. “I—I love you.”
She dropped her head to his chest and cried as if her heart was being torn in two.
He tried to laugh. “Sorry to tell you now, but I need you to know. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Kera continued to cry so hard she had to turn and look away, Fewn who was weeping, went down and wrapped the girl in her arms.
“Your devotion to Kera,” he said. “Your love for her, and your strength to keep us all together was so inspiring to me. I’ve never seen such compassion in anyone, and I can’t help it that my heart warmed every time I saw your smile. Every time I saw you play with her, and even every time you fought with Fewn, I couldn’t help but fall in love with you a little more.”
“Roren . . .” Lilaci said. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me like this.”
“You know another funny thing? You know what the last fairy said to me who placed the curse on us? It said, ‘There’s going to come a time where you’ll have the chance to save the one you love, and when that time comes, you will do the right thing.’ I always thought it was talking about Kera, that I’d have to give my life for her . . .” He choked up again and stared up at Lilaci with his eyes full of tears. “But it was you. It was you all along.”
Lilaci didn’t know what to do but cry.
“It was always you,” he said as his voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes, “It was . . . always you . . . Always you . . .”
“Roren,” Lilaci said, as she moved her hands to his chest, where she couldn’t feel his heartbeat. “Roren, no! Roren, don’t go. Please don’t go! I need you . . . I need you with me . . . Please, please don’t go. It isn’t fair. Not you . . . Not you . . .” She cried and cried under the moonlit sky as the rains poured down on them in the desert.
“Farewell, friend,” Demetrius Burr said as he struck the tip of his sword into the sand and fell to a knee.
“Goodbye, Roren,” Fewn said, still holding a sobbing Kera.
“Go in peace, friend,” Ezmerelda said as she stabbed her sword into the ground and knelt.
“May you find peace,” Gogenanth said, driving his scimitar to the ground and kneeling.
From behind her, Lilaci felt Veranor lean down and lay his hand on her shoulder. “He was a fine soldier. He will be at peace in the afterlife. And he was a good man.”
Lilaci’s head fell to Roren’s chest again. “Don’t leave me, I need you. Please . . . don’t die . . . Please . . .
But Lilaci’s prayers weren’t answered that night, and she lost another member of her family under the same moon that hung in the sky the night her family was taken from her. The rains continued that night, perhaps a sign of the heavens themselves weeping for the loss of another brave soul. Lilaci and Kera wept on for hours, as Kera had known him her entire life, and now he was gone. And Lilaci had never felt that kind of love come from another person, someone as selfless and devoted as him. It was almost as if anything that was born in the world that was pure, altruistic and good had to be killed. Nothing would change until the ones who made it that way were gone. The gods had to die for this one, Lilaci told herself. I’ll kill them for this, old friend. Every day from here on out, I’ll move closer to avenging you. And you’ll be with us all along the way.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
What would have been a normally warm sunrise in the deserts of the Arr was instead a dreary, overcast morning with thick clouds that stretched across the sky like pulled cotton. The air was thick, the sands damp, and the atmosphere seemed to represent the feelings of the group appropriately. Thick drops fell off dry plants, landing with plops in standing pools of water beneath them. Chilling winds ripped through as they sat or stood in a circle around the body of their fallen friend.
Behind them lumbered ominously the corpse of the largest of the dragons brought to life by the gods, and off to the side lay the smaller scale-covered body of the first dragon Lilaci slain, with its side torn and burned from the explosion from its own dragonfire. Herradax lay asleep just behind Kera, snoring while its many wounds and cuts began the healing process. Lilaci didn’t worry too much for the dragon, as she figured that with its rapid growth rate, it would probably heal just as quickly as it grew.
The group stood around, tired and disheartened by the loss of their friend. The blood-soaked blanket that was laid across his chest was removed once the rain stopped, and a fresh one laid on him after, so they wouldn’t see the blood. His motionless eyes reminded Lila
ci of his movement on to the next world. His body was just a reminder of Roren now—he was gone. Lilaci felt delirious in her exhaustion. The battle they’d just been able to walk away from—not quite a victory—cost them a great deal.
We couldn’t have won without you, friend. You saved my life again, that’s more times than I care to count. The first time you saved me was back when I was broken and beaten in the cave when Herradax was still just a dragon in an egg. That seems like a lifetime ago . . . I wish we could’ve gone through the rest of the path together. Kera will need your strength in the times to come. She misses you. I miss you . . .
“We should bury the body,” Veranor finally broke the silence in a stern voice, that came off as emotionless to Lilaci, but she knew he was right. “We can hold a ceremony if any of you wish, then we should be off.”
“Be off?” Lilaci asked. “Where are we going off to?” I know he’s dead. But I still don’t want to leave him.
“Wherever the Dragon’s Breath deems it,” he answered bluntly.
“You don’t seem to be too concerned with Roren’s passing,” she said, standing to meet him. “Are you happy he’s gone? One less person to fight for over Kera?” She planted her two fingers in his chest. “What is this all about to you, Veranor? What’s your endgame in this? Are you planning to take her again when the next hardship arises? You never cared for him. He was probably just another cog in the wheel for you, another tool to get what you wanted.”
“Lilaci—” Fewn said.
“You . . .” Lilaci said. “You took my parents from me. You took my life from me. And here you are now, after we lost one of our friends, and you tell us we need to hurry. Well, give me a moment to grieve. I don’t want you to tell me what to do anymore. You lost that privilege. I know we need to bury him, because he’s dead. He’s gone.”
“There’s nothing you could have done,” Veranor said, with her fingers still pointing into his chest. “He made his decision. And here you are, that would’ve been you on the ground had he not made his decision. There will be time to mourn him, but it shouldn’t be here, now.”
Fewn went over and put her arm over Lilaci’s shoulders. “Come on now, let's do this. Roren would want you to be a part of this. It's not Veranor’s fault. Even with all he’s done, he brought Kera back to us. Remember that.”
Lilaci gave in, and she, Burr, and Fewn dug the grave. Many tears were shed while digging that wet grave, and once it was deep enough, Gogenanth lifted his body and gently laid it into the hole in the sand.
“Anyone want to say anything?” Burr asked.
Kera stepped forward, wiped the tears from her cheeks, and took a deep breath. “Roren Decaard of the Order of Drakon served his duty faithfully and true. He lived a life unwavering in his devotion to his vows and his friends. He fought foes only told in tales of old, and in the end, it took a dragon of the old world to send his soul onto the next. He gave his life . . .” She sniffled. “He gave his life for the protection of the ones he loved. I knew Roren since I could first remember. He was always so strong, so brave, and whenever I felt weak or unworthy, he was always there for me. Even when I had to send him away to live alone in a cave in the darkness, alone—he went without question or hesitation. He was someone who I would not only call my protector, but he was my friend. And he will be sorely missed by the ones he left behind. Fear not old friend, your order will know of your bravery, and your wins in battle. We only got this far because of you. You have fulfilled your duty. Now rest good soldier. Find peace and know I am in good hands now. Goodbye.”
The others bowed their heads as Burr sang a song of loss, an old song Lilaci didn’t know, but even in his gruff old voice, it was a beautiful song. Roren would have thought it was old-fashioned, but she liked to think that he would have liked it. Kera was the first to throw a handful of sand onto his body under the overcast sky, and a cool wind ripped through. Lilaci then knelt and picked up a handful of the wet sand, and let the grains fall onto his body. Then Fewn did the same. Burr followed, then Gogenanth, then Ezmerelda, and finally Veranor went and let the sand fall to the body.
Gogenanth and Ezmerelda went and buried the body as Lilaci sat alone with Fewn, as Kera went and spoke with Burr and Veranor.
“Did you know that he loved you?” Fewn asked.
“Deep down, I think I knew, yes.”
“I wonder what it felt like,” Fewn asked. “I’ve never felt that way about another person, at least a man. I love Kera, and you, but it's not the same.”
“No,” Lilaci said. “I believe it’s a different feeling. I think you’ll find it someday. After all this is over, remember, we’re going to have to find a way to live the rest of our lives, if we make it to the end of this journey.”
“The end of this journey . . .” Fewn said to herself in a soft voice. “It's hard to imagine that, especially after this last fight. It's difficult to see things getting any easier from here on out. Who knows what we’re going to face in the times to come. And look at you . . .” She lifted her hand and ran her fingers through Lilaci’s long hair. “Already turning gray.”
Lilaci pulled a couple of her hairs before her, and indeed she saw gray streaming through the black. “I suppose I need to lift this curse while we move on to the next place.”
“Nah, I like the old lady look on you.” Fewn laughed.
Lilaci shoved her. “Stop that. I’m not going to let you be the young one around here. We’re the same age.”
“Alright . . . grandmother!” Fewn said, wide-eyed.
“You watch it,” Lilaci said with her finger extended. “I’m your elder now, and in my old age I could still put a whippin’ on you. I can still handle a sword like a young woman!”
“I know that to be true,” Fewn said. “I saw you take down those two dragons, the first one even without your magic. That was unbelievable. I’ve never seen anyone move like that.”
Lilaci’s smile faded, and her thoughts turned back to Roren.
Fewn was about to speak, but then a sound came down from the air, a familiar sound, but faint. Lilaci looked up in the direction of the sound that came again, and it looked like a bird high up in the sky, dimly lit against the dark clouds. But Lilaci soon found that it was no bird at all, but a small dragon soaring through the sky toward them.
“Kôrran!” Kera said, pointing eagerly up at the dragon.
“Kôrran?” Burr asked. “You named it Kôrran?”
“Him, yes. I named him Kôrran the II,” she said.
Burr smiled and nodded. “Yes, well done, lass.”
From behind, Herradax let out a great roar, as she was moved from her slumber back to her feet. Her eyes beamed intensely on the small dragon as it glided down toward them. The small dragon let out a screech as it approached. Lilaci saw its glistening red scales and majestic, fiery eyes as it came down and landed softly on the sands. Herradax strode over to the smaller dragon, merely a fraction the size of the larger female.
“Girl, I want you to meet Kôrran the II,” Kera said, walking over to the two of them. “I believe you two are going to become close one day, once he’s grown big and strong like you.”
Herradax, with her long red stripes down her back, shifted her wings around, and sniffed the smaller, red dragon; snorting and even dipping her tongue onto Kôrran’s neck. She then dropped back to the desert floor in her exhaustion, and the smaller dragon went and nestled itself quickly to lay next to her and was soon asleep.
Kera smiled a wide smile. “He would’ve enjoyed that.”
They all stood there for a few moments, watching the two dragons slumber next to each other. Then Lilaci broke the silence, “What’s next then?”
All eyes shot over to Kera.
“What’s next?” Kera asked. Her gaze turned sour as her eyes drifted to the north. “We take the fight to them. I’m tired of running. It’s time we showed the gods what it’s like to hide in fear. It’s time they tasted our wrath. We’re going to hunt down the gods and show
them no mercy. These lands are going to be free of their tyranny.”
“So it begins then,” Veranor said as a crash of thunder boomed out from the clouds overhead. “The age of the Second Serpentine Wars has begun.”
The End
Continue Reading in Book IV:
War Dragons
Author’s Notes from Assassin Born
Assassin Born was a project for me where I tried to solidify a new foothold in the fantasy genre. In my journey as a writer I want to work towards the ultimate goal of satisfying readers with a fun and character-driven journey, and eventually moving to full time work as an author.
During the writing of the story, I envisioned Lilaci as a tortured soul who was being ripped apart by two worlds— that of her family, and that of the evil that wished to control her. The idea of her being controlled through the mage’s magic came to me as I was writing that chapter, and ended up (I think) creating that nice, needed struggle for her. In my first draft I had Lilaci having doubts about her mission for the gods and her ultimate death afterward. But my editor Laura suggested I not have any doubts in her mind as the mages’ spell over her was all-powerful, and the moment when she meets Kera to be a whirlwind of emotion. I think it worked well. What did you think?
Fewn became one of my favorites to write during the story. I tried to imagine what it would be like to grow up in the environment of the Scaethers and their training in Sorock, and I ended up just thinking a normal person would go crazy. So, with Fewn I tried to create an emotionally stunted young woman with an almost manic-like personality. Where Lilaci finds herself in her connection to Kera, Fewn is lost in the storm, bumping along where the winds blow her. Do you trust her? What’s her goal? Does she even have one?
Writing a story on the continent of The Arr proved to be quite fun. In a world that’s ravaged by drought and where the strongest congregate and control, there’s a lot of room to create darkness. And through that, I feel like a little touch of humility can really shine through. All these girls wanted was to be left alone, and to have a family. One of our most basics wants and needs, and to be stripped of that so early on, can really create some monsters.
