by Andy Remic
Gavi reached the little stool, and quietly dragged it across the straw floor, which gathered in golden strands around the wooden legs which Dada had carved himself. Reaching the cupboard beneath the window, Gavi carefully manoeuvred the little stool, his face all wrinkled up in concentration, and with maximum effort, climbed onto the little stool. He stood, triumphant, but realised in horror that he was not tall enough to see over the edge of the cupboard. Oh no! What would he do? Dada would be home soon, and Gavi had to be the FIRST to see him! He just had to be.
Gavi climbed down from the little stool and thought long and thought hard. He glanced at Mama, who was still sewing and muttering to herself about something. Come to think about it, she looked quite angry right now. Her brow was creased and Gavi didn’t like that because it stopped her being pretty like she usually was.
And then, an idea filtered into his head. And he knew it was genius.
Yes, he was not tall enough to see out of the window. But with the little stool, he was tall enough to reach the door latch.
Gavi dragged the stool sideways, gathering more errant strands of straw around the legs, and balanced it near the door. He climbed slowly onto it, and stood there wobbling, having sudden horrible thoughts about Padda Wa. He didn’t want to end up with an ugly face and living in a cave and throwing stones at children! No! But he calmed himself, and turned, with little pigeon steps, and eyed the latch. He reached out, and caught the metal prong, and lifted it, pulling the door slightly towards him. Success! He climbed down off the stool and tugged it out of the way, checked to see if Mama had spotted his actions, and she hadn’t, but he knew she’d understand because Dada was coming home and it had been soooooo long since Gavi had enjoyed his hugs and his smell and his wild stories of life in the forest chopping down the BIG TREES.
Gavi gripped the edge of the door in his podgy fingers, and pulled. A cool breeze drifted inside, and the evening light made him squint. When the gap was wide enough he let go, and toddled out into the street, his feet running away with him for a moment before he got his balance once more.
Freedom!
Dada!
He looked down the street one way, but there was no sign of Dada. And so he looked down the street the other way, and there was still no sign of Dada. He looked back at the door, and there was no sign of Mama. So he toddled further out into the street, and looked around at the big world, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Everything was so… huge!
Something glittered in the sky.
It was silver.
Is it a star? thought Gavi, and a wide smile took over his face. Oh by the Seven Sisters! It is! It’s a star! It’s a silver star flashing with silver light! He lifted his little hand and pointed.
“Mama! Mama! It’s a star! A star!”
There came a muffled curse from inside the stone cottage, and Mama appeared at the door, a look of absolute shock on her face. “Gavi! What are you doing? How did you get outside? Oh you naughty, naughty little boy…”
Gavi was staring at her, with total incomprehension. He pointed again. “Mama! A star!” and he turned and looked at the silver star getting closer, and closer, and closer, and then his face changed, from awe, flickering through fear, then to a look of excitement. “Mama! A dragon! A dragon!”
Mama looked up, and gave a short sharp intake of breath.
It was a dragon.
It was Kranesh…
She was diving from leagues above Vagandrak, and her silver wings suddenly shot out with a crack, as fire trailed vapours from her nostrils and her claws flexed. She hit the street with a thump and rattled her wings, her head dropping low and moving close to the little boy in pants and vest, standing there, staring up in absolute open-faced wonder.
Gavi took in the bright silver scales, glinting in the light of the failing sun. The magnitude of the dragon filled his mind with a total confusion. It was just so… BIG.
“Hello, Mr Dragon,” said Gavi, eyes shining, “have you come to play?”
Mama screamed, and Gavi turned to look at her, and slowly his face dropped from awe and wonder to a look of confusion. And then Mama was there, kneeling in the dirt, her arms wrapped around Gavi, dragged to her breast, tears streaming down her face as her whole body racked with sobs.
“Don’t hurt my baby,” she said, through snot and tears, looking up at those narrowed, slanted black eyes in a head bigger than she was. She watched lips curl back over fangs, yellow and black, each one a curved dagger. “Please, please, don’t hurt my baby!”
Kranesh lowered her head, and a deep-throated rumble emerged as flames flickered around her snout, and her grin seemed to widen.
“Why not?” she purred, and then lifted her gaze as at the end of the street emerged nearly thirty men, carrying spears and longbows and expressions of terror and trepidation. Kranesh transferred her gaze back towards Mama and Gavi.
She was going to enjoy killing these little insects…
Mama must have sensed Kranesh’s intentions, for she turned then, and looked up in absolute fury. “How dare you,” she spat, her lips curling to make her face ugly. “You abuse your power, bitch. You are a disgrace to everything living. I defy you.”
“You defy me?” Kranesh’s laughter reverberated down the street. “That is… interesting.”
Mama’s gaze suddenly transferred to a point beyond Kranesh, her eyes growing wide, which the great wyrm found astonishing. At the moment of her death, at the moment of her child’s execution, something had distracted this woman?
Kranesh almost turned. One shoulder dropped a little, her head swayed to one side, but with eyes still locked on the human insect before her, who was definitely looking at an object behind the great wyrm…
Moraxx hit Kranesh from behind, outstretched claws clamping around Kranesh’s neck, wings still back in a dive. Both dragons slammed forward, narrowly skimming over Mama and Gavi to pound a spectacular spinning path down the street, hitting the road, then a cottage, demolishing one wall in a shower of stones and snapped beams, then the road again, then cannoning into the armed villagers; those foolish enough to remain, stood with opened mouths, rooted to the spot. Men were tossed aside, several crushed, as the dragons slid into them and beyond, into the stone fountain, demolishing it. Moraxx, on Kranesh’s back, reared her head and her fangs came down, clamping Kranesh’s neck. Kranesh howled, wings flapping, claws gouging the stone flags, as Moraxx shook her like a giant dog with a giant bone. Kranesh’s howl rose in pitch until it was a scream, her head thrashing back, and flames erupted, a huge jet of fire that scorched three houses on its shaken, jagged trajectory. Kranesh’s spiked tail whipped around, then curled up and over Moraxx, crushing her wings to her body. Now Moraxx screamed, and both dragons flopped about, one biting, one crushing, both ejecting random bursts of fire that shot out, scorching huge sections of the village and igniting thatched roofs.
The remaining village men ran back towards the skirmish, and began launching spears. They bounced off the two great coiling wyrms, and suddenly both relinquished their grips; Moraxx leapt into the sky, with a crash of wings, and Kranesh shook her tail and neck, head coming round, then lifting to follow Moraxx’s arc.
She grimaced, ignoring the spears and arrows which clattered from her silver scales. She worked her neck several times, for Moraxx’s bite had been powerful and caused some tendon damage.
“Oh, you evil, back-stabbing bitch,” she growled, flames flickering, and her wings came back and she leapt upwards, wings beating hard, accelerating fast as she banked in a violent arc and flew in pursuit, a roar echoing from her jaws that deafened the remaining villagers and seemed to shake the world…
Back down on the street, Mama slowly unfolded.
Gavi looked up at her, with tears in his eyes.
“Mama, that was a dragon,” he said, lower lip pushing out.
“Yes, my darling,” wept Mama, stunned to be alive. “Yes, it was!”
Gavi rubbed his eyes. “I not like dragons no more,” h
e whimpered.
* * *
Skalg glanced back as he soared through the skies, wings beating hard. He watched Kranesh leap into the air, roaring with pain and hate, and take up the pursuit. In Moraxx’s mind he grinned to himself, and revelled in the power, soaked up the feelings of absolute dominance. You feel that? he wanted to scream back at Kranesh. You feel that sting in the back of your neck? That was me, Skalg, a feeble hunchback dwarf whom the entire kingdom of Harborym Dwarves despises… but now, now I am the same as you, now I have your privilege, and I’m going to bring you down, motherfucking bitch wyrm, I’m going to torch you, and crush you, and rip out your bones…
High over Vagandrak Skalg soared, and he pumped his wings again, amazed at how he never grew tired, never felt weak. Ahead, the Skarandos Mountains reared, snow on their caps, and between these vast, natural structures, these devil’s teeth, lay the weaving, undulating snake, the Pass of Splintered Bones, pointing, like the markings of an adder, towards the four massive, intimidating walls of Desekra Fortress.
Skalg headed for the mountains, and heard Kranesh coming up fast behind… Flames roared, and Skalg put back his wings and dived hard, but Kranesh also dived, following Moraxx down close and fast, fire still screaming to scorch Moraxx’s tail…
Skalg dropped into the Pass of Splintered Bones, levelling out only a few feet from the surface, and skimming along with powerful wing beats. Beneath, bones and skulls were blasting from the path to rattle against the rocky walls of the mountains. A unit of marching soldiers broke ranks and fled, spears forgotten, as Moraxx flashed by, closely followed by Kranesh, her jaws snapping at Moraxx’s tail.
They reared up over the keep, with a couple of soldiers below shouting and waving, then out over the desert of Zakora. Within moments the landscape had changed, and they swept low over rolling sand dunes, their passage leaving scarred patterns in the sand, until, with a supreme effort, Kranesh launched forward, smashing into Moraxx, and they became entwined and hit the sand hard, spinning and tangling more as they cut a huge groove across a dune, then up towards its summit, where they finally came to a motionless rest, looking out over a great wide valley.
Flames licked idly around snouts.
Both great wyrms lay, stunned.
Eventually, Kranesh lifted herself up, and disentangled herself, huge wings flapping to give her some lift. One wing had damaged bones, and not quite the same power it once had. Kranesh scowled, and took several steps back, claws raking the sand as she gazed with narrowed eyes at Moraxx.
Within seconds, Skalg forced Moraxx’s eyes open. He choked for a moment on imbibed sand, then ejected it on a spurt of flame that turned it into droplets of molten glass, falling like crystal tears. His head came up on the serpentine neck, neck spines bristling in anger, brass scales gleaming under the remnants of light from the dying sun, which had recently dipped below the desert horizon.
Skalg turned to face Kranesh, and he forced Moraxx to laugh, her voice musical and deep.
“Are you insane?” hissed Kranesh, flames licking around her muzzle. “By the Sacred Heart of Wyrmblood, what do you think you are doing? We have a mission, we have humans to exterminate, then we have dwarves to kill…”
“Kranesh,” said Skalg with Moraxx’s voice, “you have grown weak, and feeble, and I no longer trust you.”
“You don’t trust me?” shrieked Kranesh, and she backed away, flames washing out, a yellow stream that engulfed Moraxx for a moment, but caused no real damage. “What the fuck has changed in your diseased mind? We were locked away for centuries together… now we need to put things right… now we need to hatch…”
“But only when our Blood Dragon Empire is safe from threat,” said Moraxx, staring into her sister’s eyes, black orbs meeting, “and now, here and now, you are the one thing which threatens the future of our race.”
“How?”
Skalg attacked, fire roaring out, claws stretching for Kranesh’s eyes. They smashed together, claws slashing, fire roaring, jaws biting, and they connected, slammed fifty feet into the air above the desert, their claws scrabbling at one another, heads butting together, fire roaring in one another’s faces… before Moraxx suddenly lifted, arms wrapping around Kranesh’s neck as Kranesh’s tail slashed and punched at Moraxx’s belly.
Skalg suddenly powered upwards, rose fast, breaking away, and flipped, heading back towards Vagandrak. Kranesh screamed and headed in pursuit, but they were both flying at full power now, full speed, and the sister wyrms were equally matched.
Desekra appeared fast on the horizon.
Kranesh suddenly lowered her head under her own belly, and breathed a powerful, screaming jet of fire. She accelerated rapidly, smashing into Moraxx as Desekra fortress reared fast, and the great first wall, Sanderlek, appeared black and solid and unmoving. Locked together once more, the wyrms tried to pull up, but didn’t quite make it in time, clipping the top ten feet of wall and sending a shower of stones screaming up into the sky, a fountain of broken castle masonry. The two dragons ploughed through stone, described an arc over Sanderlek, then both went limp, separated, and felt to earth, carving huge grooves along the open grass killing ground which separated Sanderlek and Wall Two, Tranta-Kell.
Silence fell like drifting ash.
Smoke rose from both dragons… but they remained still.
* * *
“Sarge?”
“What is it, Nomado?”
“SARGE!”
“This had better be fucking good, lad,” mumbled Sergeant Barahim, rolling from his bunk and grabbing his trews and boots. With a weary groan – he’d been running the new recruits all day – he pulled on a loose black shirt and opened the door to the barracks corridor, scowling.
“Er, Sarge?”
“Spit it out, lad.”
“Dragons.”
“What?”
“Dragons!”
“You pissed, lad?”
“There’s, er, two dragons! They’ve just crashed through Sanderlek.” Nomado remembered his training, and snapped a salute. Then his shoulders slumped. “Please. Sarge. Just come with me, right now, none of the lads know what to do…”
“If this is a wind-up, you’ll be dumped in fucking solitary for a week,” scowled Barahim, following the new recruit out into the late evening air.
The sun had only recently sunk beneath the horizon, and although the rearing Skarandos peaks darkened the evening, especially at this time of year, there were quite clearly two massive dragons laid out on the grass, surrounded by a detritus of broken stones and cracked masonry chunks, smoke crawling slow columns from their nostrils.
Fifty men stood around, staring, and Sergeant Barahim sent out runners. Within minutes, rusting chains the thickness of a man’s arm had been dragged from storage, and with much grunting and cursing, dragged over the body of the silver-scaled wyrm.
They began wrapping the chains around the beast as best they could, as another fifty soldiers mobilised and began carting rocks from the rock storage area. These were normally used during days of siege or battle, to drop on any attacking force from the summit of Sanderlek. Now, an attacking force had landed in their front yard, so to speak, so the rocks were being put to a much more unconventional use.
“More chains for the second dragon!” shouted Barahim, his parade ground bellow ringing clear across the entire killing ground.
More chains were dragged from the storage sheds at the foot of Sanderlek, and then across the grass, cutting grooves in the soil, to the motionless body of Moraxx.
“Which end first, Sarge?” asked Nomado, looking up from the dragon and scratching his head. “It’s lying funny. I don’t think I can chain it from this end first, I… ” He glanced back at the brass-scaled wyrm.
The eye had opened. It was looking at him.
Nomado yelped, and jumped backwards, dropping the chain.
“What are you fucking doing, you idiot?” bellowed Barahim.
“It’s looking at me, Sarge! It’s fuckin
g looking at me!”
“Bollocks, lad. You ARE pissed, aren’t you?”
But before any more could be said, Moraxx lifted her head, on her rippling neck, and turned to stare at the soldiers. They yelped, stepping back, as Moraxx got her legs beneath her, and pushed herself up, wings extending, flapping, her head shaking, flames curling around her snout.
She turned her body, and the soldiers were running now to get spears. Moraxx turned and looked down at the chained wyrm, Kranesh, who had just started shaking her head to find she’d been wrapped in chains, some of them weighed down by rocks.
Moraxx strode forward, and stared down at her sister.
Kranesh met her gaze.
“What have they done to me?”
“Secured you. I’m sure if you had a minute you could be free.”
Kranesh started to struggle, but Moraxx took a step forward and brought her claws down on Kranesh’s head, a massive, sickening blow. Kranesh groaned. Moraxx beat her again, and again, and again, the final blow ending with a crunch. Kranesh slumped down, the chains forgotten, the flames around her snout diminishing.
“THERE! ON THE COUNT OF THREE, SPEAR THE FUCKER!”
Moraxx turned, and eyed the several hundred soldiers now gathered, many hefting spears and pikes, their faces grim.
“Really?” said Skalg, and grinned, inhaling, and screaming out a wall of fire that sent the soldiers sprinting for the second Desekra wall, many with their trews on fire, several crying for their mother.
Moraxx turned back to Kranesh, and Skalg stared down with her eyes.
No, said Moraxx in his mind.
Please, you cannot do this, she is my sister, she is my own flesh and blood, you cannot do this, she cannot die thinking I murdered her!
Leave me to my work, growled Skalg. His mind was filled with laughter, with joy, with an absolute utter and total rush of power. He was the most dominant creature on the planet. He was unstoppable. Immortal. A… god.
Please, begged Moraxx in the caverns of this, their now shared mind. Only Skalg had control, and Moraxx was an unwilling passenger. Please stop. You must stop. This is unholy. Think of… our babies… our Empire…
