And finally the shores of Requiem emerged.
The coast stretched ahead, a mere hint upon the horizon. All around Valien, dragons chanted for home. They sang the old songs of the forest. They cried for starlight and birch leaves and marble columns. They sang for Requiem, but Valien only lowered his head.
No. This was not Requiem ahead. This was not Aeternum's kingdom. They flew now toward the shore of another realm, a fallen land once named Osanna, an ancient kingdom Frey had burned. Valien had spent years hiding in these ruins with the Resistance. He had seen thousands of Osanna's burnt skeletons littering the ash. Frey had annexed his conquest years ago, and today his banners flew here too, but no—this was not home, no more than the ruins of Tiranor were.
"We will free Osanna too," Valien said as he flew over the water. "We will liberate this fallen land for the memory of her people." He raised his voice to a howl. "Children of Requiem! Every Vir Requis—take dragon form. Every Tiran—load your guns. Scope bearers—ready your beams."
As the coast drew nearer, his army formed ranks.
All Vir Requis in human form leaped from saddles, shifted into dragons, and howled. Jets of fire lit the twilight. Soon three thousand dragons roared, flying in four units. Upon their backs rode Tiran arquebusers. They streamed over the water, chanting for victory. Valien roared with them, hoarse but pealing his cry across the sea.
"Death to Cadigus! Dragons—fan out!"
Their four formations spread side to side. Ahead of each flew a scope bearer—a Tiran rider clutching a cylinder full of Genesis Shards.
Valien led one group, and upon his back rode Sila; the gruff captain held one of the scopes. Kaelyn and Erry each led another group, scope bearers upon their backs. Leresy held the fourth scope in his own claws; the prince had refused to let anyone ride him.
Only four scopes, Valien thought with a grumble. Even with a hundred, fear would have filled him today. They had tried dividing the shards into smaller batches, but found the magic too weak, and so with four scopes they flew, and fear filled his belly.
He looked across his army. Three thousand dragons. Two thousand riders. Four scopes. It wasn't enough. Even with the Genesis Shards and the arquebuses, superior weapons, it wasn't enough. Not against half a million legionaries, howling for blood and firing cannons.
We must fly to Nova Vita without rest, he thought and snarled. We must engage no enemies along the way. We must storm the palace and slay Frey, fast and deadly as an arrow shot from shadow.
He roared. The coast loomed only ten miles away. There would be a small patrol; the Legions patrolled every mile of this beach.
"Slay every legionary you see!" Valien called out. "Let none flee to bear news."
They streamed toward the shore. The sun sank below the horizon. The sea vanished into shadows.
From ahead upon the shore, thousands of flaming pillars blazed skyward.
Roars pounded across the sky.
"Hail the red spiral! Hail Frey Cadigus!"
Valien felt as if a hammer slammed against him.
By the Abyss...
The horizon blazed. Fire streamed like a storm of comets, like an erupting volcano, like the Abyss risen into the world. Shadows broke apart from the distant shore, rising like demonic crows from a rotten tree. Ten thousand dragons ascended from fire, shadow, and smoke, shrieked to the sky, and streamed across the sea.
He knew, Valien thought, for a moment unable to breathe, barely able to flap his wings. Frey knew we were coming.
Around him, his fellow dragons cursed and roared. They glanced around. They blasted flame in a confused array.
"Damn it, Valien, you said these coasts weren't guarded!" Leresy shouted somewhere in the distance.
Valien growled and snapped his teeth. He beat his wings mightily, rising higher in the night. The sea streamed below him. The beasts raced ahead.
"Dragons of Requiem!" he howled. "Show the enemy no mercy. Fly! Meet them head-on. For Requiem!"
Upon their backs, the Tirans blew their war horns. The cries trumpeted across the sea. The dragons of the Resistance answered the call, roaring their own battle cries, wordless howls of rage. Ahead, the Legions streamed across the miles—five miles away, then four, then three—bellowing and hailing the spiral.
"Scope bearers!" Valien shouted. "Ready your weapons!"
The armies streamed closer. Three thousand dragons of the Resistance. Ten thousand legionaries, a cloud of flame and shadow.
"Hold!" Valien howled.
They flew, howling. Three miles. Two.
"Ready your scopes! Hold!"
The Legions howled and laughed ahead. Their flames crackled, lighting the sea below. The dragons of the Resistance growled and snarled. Not a gun or flaming jet fired.
"Hold!"
Two miles.
One.
"Slay them all!" roared the Legions.
"Break their spines!"
"Feast upon their flesh!"
"Hail the red spiral!"
Valien gritted his teeth, sucked in his breath, and reared in the air.
"Scope bearers—fire!"
At his side, Kaelyn's rider unscrewed a scope first. The red light blazed out in the night, a beam piercing the shadows, an explosion as bright and furious as dragonfire. A heartbeat later, beams blasted out from Erry and Leresy, humming and slamming forward. Upon Valien's own back, Sila howled and his beam shone, nearly blinding Valien, stretching over his head to crash into the imperial dragons ahead.
The Genesis Beams hit the Legions with the fury of ten thousand cannonballs.
Where the red light struck, dragons vanished. Men and women tumbled, screaming, to crash into the sea below.
Valien howled. "Resistance—dragonfire!"
He blasted his flames. They rained onto the falling legionaries, burning them as they fell. The troops tumbled, blazing comets, to slam into the water. Around Valien, thousands of dragons roared their fire.
The legionaries screamed. They fell. They died. The beams ripped through them like great, glowing blades. Hundreds tumbled into the water.
"Slay them all!" Valien roared. "Show them no mercy. Leave none alive!"
The two armies crashed together.
Valien barreled through a swarm. Legionaries flew everywhere, a dark horde, their armor bladed, their fire raging.
"Sila, cut them down!" Valien said.
Upon his back, the captain spun his beam, clearing a path. All around, the legionaries fell. Any who flew near met the beam, lost his magic, and crashed down in human form.
"Break their lines!" Leresy shouted somewhere in the distance, laughing.
The battle descended into chaos. Legionaries flew at all sides, mingling with resistors. Beams shot every which way. Fire blazed. Arquebuses fired. The air exploded into a storm of gunpowder, flame, and light.
"Scope bearers, fan out!" Valien roared. "Leresy! Erry! Fly to the east. Kaelyn, take the south. Surround our forces!"
He cursed, trying to find them. Their formations were falling apart. A phalanx of legionaries flew toward him, roaring fire. The flames blasted Valien's belly and he yowled.
"Sila!"
The captain's beam fell upon the enemy. They fell. Valien bathed their tumbling human bodies with fire.
"Scope bearers, surround our forces! Hold the enemy back."
He whipped his head from side to side, seeking them. He howled curses. They had drilled for this. On order, the four scope bearers were to surround their army, forming four pillars of defense, cutting down the enemy while allowing their comrades to blow fire from within the shield. Yet now they flew in disarray.
"Leresy, damn it, take the east!" Valien roared.
The red dragon was crashing into the enemy above, laughing madly, clutching a scope in his claws. He spun it around every which way. Behind him, legionaries—still in dragon form—were crashing into resistors, tearing them down.
"Leresy,
damn you!" Valien roared.
The red dragon blazed his beam upward. When humans tumbled down, he caught them in his jaws, bit their bodies apart, and spat out the pieces.
"Valien!" the young prince shouted, laughing, blood on his teeth. "We will slay him. We will slay my father!"
Valien blasted fire. "Leresy, behind you—"
Ten imperial dragons swooped from above. Their claws reached out. They crashed into the prince.
Leresy yowled, a high-pitched sound, and reared. His beam shot out wildly, whipping from side to side. A legionary bit into the prince's back. Leresy's claws opened, and the scope tumbled from his grasp.
"Damn it, Leresy!" Valien said. He shot forward and reached out, trying to grab the scope.
The cylinder spun wildly as it fell, shining light every which way. The beam blazed against Valien.
Like a sword pulled from his back, his magic vanished.
Valien tumbled through the sky, a human. Above him, Sila tumbled too, torn free from the saddle, his beam still shining.
The water raced up toward them.
Valien roared, swearing to slay the boy.
An instant before he could slam into the sea, he emerged from the beam's light. He sucked in his magic. He shifted back into dragon form.
His claws grazed the water. He beat his wings and soared. He grabbed Sila before the captain could crash into the sea.
"Back into the saddle!" he said.
He rose higher, looking around him. The battle had become a brawl. Rather than protect their comrades, the scope bearers flew aimlessly. For every legionary they cut down, ten swooped from behind. Arquebuses fired, cracking and shattering the air. Dragonfire blazed.
"This is no battle," Valien growled. "It's a bar fight."
He soared higher. Sila blazed his beam upward. They tore through the hosts, legionaries falling around them.
"Kaelyn!" he said, spotting the green dragon ahead. "Take the east. Go! Erry—go west. Shine that beam. Leresy, damn you, find your scope!"
The red dragon still flew, blood seeping down his shoulders, his scope gone from his claws. Kaelyn and Erry roared and darted out, blazing their beams, holding the enemy back. Thousands of legionaries still flew, mingling together with the resistors.
Valien cursed. "Sila, what can you do?"
Upon his back, the captain shouted, "Damn armies are too mingled! I can barely shine the light upon a legionary without hitting a resistor too. This is a damn mess."
"Do what you can. We have to separate the forces."
The battle continued for hours. Dragonfire, Genesis Beams, and gunfire lit the night. Men and women fell all around, some still alive and blazing, others charred corpses. Legionaries flew everywhere. The beams mowed down some; others crashed into the Resistance, blowing fire and lashing claws. Smoke and blood rained into the sea below.
Dawn rose before the Resistance made its way onto the empire's shore.
The sunlight rose upon a world coated in blood and ash.
Valien filled his wings with air, grunted with the pain of a dozen cuts, and landed upon the beach. His fellow resistors landed around him, wheezing and puffing smoke. Their scales were cracked and charred. Cuts and burns covered them. Their blood dripped. Upon their backs, many Tirans clutched wounds and welts. Some dragons bore only corpses upon their saddles.
All around them, the bodies of legionaries swept onto the shore. Every wave brought a new pile of their bloated, lacerated corpses. Death covered the beaches, thicker than the seashells, a blanket of flesh.
Sila dismounted and Valien took human form.
"Teramil, bring me reports!" Valien barked at one of his lieutenants, a tall and dour man with cold eyes. "Count the living. Aranor!" He turned toward another commander, a former priest turned resistor. "Organize the survivors into new phalanxes. Make sure every man is armed. We fly within an hour. They know we're here."
He moved along the beach, giving orders. With every wave, new corpses floated toward him. Blood painted the sand. Most of the dead were legionaries, clad in black armor; many were resistors, wearing only leather and wool, their flesh burnt black, their mouths open in silent anguish.
Some soldiers washed ashore still writhing and screaming. Some had lost limbs; they clutched at their bleeding stumps. Others screamed with burns, their skin peeling, their flesh twisting. Some bore gaping wounds, exposing or losing organs, crying for home. They had brought only a hundred healers—not enough, Valien knew. Not enough. With every step he took, another wounded man or woman fell silent, joining the dead.
So many more dead, Valien thought, walking among them, gritting his teeth. We should have stayed on the islands. Stars damn it, this shouldn't have happened. Frey knew. He waited for us. Valien's throat tightened. And now more blood stains my hands.
Yet as he walked among the dead and dying, his thoughts centered on only one soul.
"Kaelyn," he whispered.
He walked through the sand, seeking her. He saw her in every charred body. His fists shook. He wanted to shout out for her, but could not; the leader of the Resistance could show no emotions for one woman. He kept moving, quickening his step, his boots slogging through the blood.
I can't lose you too, Kaelyn. His breath shook behind his clenched teeth. Where are you?
"Valien!"
Her voice rang across the beach. He turned and saw her there, and his eyes dampened.
"Thank the stars," he whispered.
He took three great strides toward her. She ran and crashed into his arms, and he held her. Blood smeared her.
"Kaelyn, you're hurt," he said, her golden hair a tangle beneath his chin.
She shook her head. "The blood isn't mine. Not most of it. I'm scratched and a little burned, but I'm fine." She looked up at him, her eyes large and afraid. "He knew we were coming. How did he know?"
Still holding her in his arms, Valien looked over the beach. For a mile or more around him, the corpses lay. Crows and crabs were already swarming for the feast.
"He always knew we were on the island," he said, throat tight and voice a mere hiss. "I should have known islands that size, even so far away, would not go unnoticed. He patrolled from the air or from the sea, but he knew, and he waited for us."
When his lieutenants returned with the news, Valien felt his stomach sink. His head spun. He gritted his teeth and could only stand in the blood, fists clenched. He had flown here with five thousand souls; four thousand remained.
This was always a fool's quest, he thought, head lowered.
Kaelyn clutched his arm. Her hair flew in the wind, stained red. A cut ran down her cheek, but her eyes still blazed.
"We fly on," she said. "We tore through the Legions upon the beach. We will tear through them at the capital."
Valien growled and shook his head. "We've lost too many. Even with full force, we were unsure. We lost a thousand warriors before even landing on the beaches."
"And yet we did land," Kaelyn said and bared her teeth. "Valien Eleison, do not give up hope now. Keep fighting or I will smack you." She dug her fingers into his arms, her head no taller than his shoulders, her eyes shining like the red beams of ancient stones. "We fight on. You and me. As we always have. We fly to the capital and we win this."
Valien looked around. His fighters surrounded him and he gazed into their eyes, each one in turn. Sila and Miya stared back steadily; their faces were ashy and bloody, but their backs were straight. Erry stood with her chin raised, snarling, her eyes lusting for the fight. Thousands of fighters spread beyond them—cut, burnt, and weary, but their eyes all shone the same. They shone for battle. For victory.
They are brave and strong, Valien thought, yet I am afraid. They need me to lead them, but do I only lead them to more death?
"Move. Move it!" An arrogant, high-pitched voice rose among the crowd. Leresy came trudging forward, elbowing men and women out of his path. "Where's Valien, damn it?" When the prince
emerged from the crowd and saw them, he glared. "Are you having a council without me?"
Kaelyn rolled her eyes. "Brother, do be quiet."
Her twin snorted. "Me, be quiet? My scopes won this battle for us." He raised his chin. "I dug up the Genesis Shards. I built the scopes. Thanks to me, we're in Requiem now. What are you planning next? I demand to know."
Valien growled. His rage fumed inside him like dragonfire. For many days, he had ignored this pup, letting Kaelyn and the others scold him into silence. Today, these dead around him, this blood on his boots and hands, he could not curb his fury. He marched through the sand.
When he reached Leresy, the prince smirked at him. Valien could not stop himself. He growled and backhanded the boy, putting all his rage into the blow.
Leresy yowled like a kicked dog. He cowered, raising his arms to protect his face, and scampered back. Valien would not let him flee. He grabbed the boy, twisted his collar, and glared down at him.
"You foolish child," he said, clutching the prince. "You lost a scope. You were too proud to bear a rider, and you let your scope tumble into the sea. Did you find it?"
Leresy tried to shove him off, but could not, so he only raised his chin and glared. His lips shook, and his cheek reddened where Valien had struck him.
"How the Abyss can I find it?" His voice cracked, but he swallowed and glared, struggling to reclaim some pride. "The damn thing sank. It fell by you. Why didn't you grab it?"
Valien howled and shook the prince. "Its light tore away my magic. I could have died because of your foolishness, boy. I let you carry a scope, and you proved yourself useless."
Leresy clenched his fists and glared, but his knees trembled and sweat drenched him.
"Unhand me!" he demanded. "I am Prince Leresy Cadigus. I am the son of the emperor. I order you to—"
"You are a fool," Valien said and spat.
He shoved the prince away. Leresy tumbled into the sand, hissed, and glared. Valien turned and marched away. He shouted out for his army to hear.
"Warriors of the Resistance! We will not linger here. We fly! Carry the wounded with you. We fly on."
A Memory of Fire (The Dragon War, Book 3) Page 12
