by C. K. Rieke
The world around her had grown dark, and all Kera saw then was the Witch Queen, covered in blood creeping toward her, with a hateful gaze— a murderous gaze.
“You’re not real. You’re not real, you’re just in my head,” Kera said, her words soft with fear.
“You’re not real . . .” Gorlen repeated. “You’re not real . . .” She inched her way towards Kera, her long fingernails extended. “You’re just in my head . . .”
“You can’t be here,” Kera said. “Lilaci wouldn’t let you hurt me.”
“Lilaci’s not here,” Gorlen said in a raspy voice. “No one can save you from me. I’m going to cut you, I’m going to watch you bleed, and then I’m going taste you. I’m going to taste your heart while it still beats.”
“This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. It’s all in my head. Make it stop, make it stop,” Kera said.
“You’re going to die. Lilaci is going to die. Fewn too. Everyone that has ever helped you it a bounty for me. You’ll taste torments you could never imagine,” Gorlen said as she crept forward. She was looming over Kera then, her face inches away from Kera’s. The Witch Queen’s eyes glowed with the light of rage, and glee. Kera feared she was going to die then, not only from the Witch Queen, but the fear in her chest. She’d never been so afraid in her life.
“Lilaci,” she whispered. “Help me.”
Then she felt the cold fingers of the Witch Queen grip around her neck, and she began to squeeze. “You’re mine, Dragon’s Breath.” Kera began to breathe quickly, and panic fell over her.
“Death is coming for you girl. There will be no more Order of Drakon after you are gone. There will be none who remember you, none who mourn for you.” Kera felt the fingers gripping her neck tighter, and she struggled to breathe. “Once you are gone, these lands will be mine forever. No dragons, no infidels. There will be only us, only me. And I can wreak whatever I wish upon these lands. I will rule forever, I will be eternal. And you my pretty little girl . . . Are going to die.”
Kera felt the life fading from her, as the Witch Queen’s face began to dim into darkness before her. Yet, just then, just before everything turned to darkness, Kera felt a light inside of her. A fire that felt like a faint flicker quickly erupted into a bright, hot inferno. She opened her eyes wide to see the Witch Queen’s face illuminated in white light, and she shot her eyes closed from the blinding light.
“No,” Kera said, getting her feet under her as the Witch Queen shot back. “I’ll not let you harm me, or my friends anymore.”
“What— What is this?” The Witch Queen hissed, backing away from the bright light.
“You have no power over me,” Kera said, standing back up, her shoulders back. “That’s your weakness, and my strength. You have nothing to hurt me with. That’s why you’re afraid of me. That’s why you’ve sent your soldiers after me my entire life, instead of coming yourself. Because you’re scared. You’re scared I can hurt you.” She watched as the Witch Queen took a step back into the wall with one foot, and then began moving her body back in. “You may have killed the dragons, by murdering their young while they were away, but know that I’m going to bring them back, and then you can watch as they devour you and your young.”
“No,” Gorlen hissed. “That will never happen. They are dead. They’re all dead.”
“You’re wrong, I’m going to find a way. You and your kind are finished. It’s your turn to be afraid!” And with that, Kera let out a burst of light that lit the entire corridor in bright white. The explosion of light grew until that was all there was. And as the light slowly faded, Kera saw the mural before her was as it was, all six gods in their original poses. She breathed a sigh of relief and regathered her breathing.
The stick in her hand was still lit and she turned back around to see the mural of the dragon, but as she did she jumped back in surprise. She was looking straight into two dragon eyes, staring straight back into hers. The eyes were piercing, two golden orbs with dashes of color like fire in them. Reds, oranges and a deep black at their centers. The mural had moved, and now a full dragon’s head was in front of her. It had removed itself from the wall and it hovered in the air only inches away. She saw its rough green scales, she smelt its ashen breath, she saw its long yellowish teeth cracked and brittle. The dragon’s head inched toward her, its long, thick neck protruding from the wall. It let out low, bellowing growl— as it sneered at her with its sharp teeth showing.
“Shhh . . .” she said softly to the dragon. “It’s alright. I’m here to help you.”
Kera reached a hand up, extending it out to it slowly. The dragon watched her hand, but didn’t pull back, so she let her hand fall onto the side of its mouth. The moment she touched it, she felt a pain in her neck. She reached back and gently touched it, still sore, as if real hands had gripped her throat only moments ago. The two dragon’s eyes burned into her deeper.
“I’m sorry for what they did to you, and for your kin,” Kera said to the dragon. “We will avenge them. We will bring retribution for your fallen. I’m going to bring your once-great might back to the skies. And together, we are going to kill the gods, once and for all.”
She watched as the dragon’s eyes glowed in a brilliant golden light at that, and then the green dragon’s head dipped to her, almost like a bow. Then the head slowly fell back to its rightful place in the mural. Kera went up and touched the mural once more, letting her hand caress the stone wall, her fingers flowing down from its head to its neck.
“Magnificent . . .” she said to herself.
Chapter Fifteen
The following morning, the two awoke to an unusually warm morning for that time of year. The shadows of the cave offered little reprieve to the thick, humid air. Kera had only gotten a rough few hours of sleep after her time in the crevasse of the cave. Her dreams were wrought with tormenting reminders and visions of the Witch Queen. She couldn’t help but shake away the images of her and the dragon from her mind. As much as Gorlen remained a frightening image to her, the sight of the dragon’s head as it appeared before her still held a feeling of strength inside her. After all— her entire life— she’d been surrounded by the whispers of dragons. It was her destiny, her responsibility to return what once soared the skies back to the far-reaching deserts of the Arr. And hours ago, she was face to face, for the first time in her life, with what seemed to be real. That was the first time in her young life she’d looked into the eyes of a dragon, whether it was real or not.
She lay there facing the top part of the cave, her eyes open but not staring at anything in particular. The burning golden eyes of the dragon consumed her. She knew she would never forget them, they’d always be a part of her.
“Feel free to help,” Fewn said as she rummaged through her pack haphazardly.
Kera continued looking up at the top of the cave, and she fell into a daze watching the streaks of light pass over her as they danced in the dust and thick air.
“Don’t worry, I’ll just get everything ready for you, your highness,” Fewn said, playfully yet sarcastically. “Would you like some fresh milk? Figs? How about a juicy grilled cut of dark meat?”
Kera let her head fall to the side facing Fewn, who gave her a pressing look as she folded up a light shirt and pushed it into her bag. “You shouldn’t talk about such things, it makes my stomach hurt.”
“I was only kidding.”
“I’m hungry,” Kera said.
“I know, me too. But look what I’ve got . . .” Fewn reached into her bag and brought out a piece of withered cactus, and handed it to Kera, who reluctantly took it and began to chew it on the side of her mouth. It was tough and bitter.
An hour later they were back upon the sands, and the thick humidity had passed, or been left behind them. There was just a gentle breeze, and an eerie calm as they approached it. The Dune of the Last Dragon grew taller with every single step they took. Kera looked up at it, ever scale and claw of the engraved dragon’s body grew more vivid with fi
ne detail as they drew closer. It was still a few miles off, and as Kera looked up at the headless neck at the top of the mountain, she half-expected to see the head upon the sands at its base, which she didn’t see. The head must have fallen off so long ago that it succumbed to the harsh-blowing sands and faded away back into the dunes, or it had moved from where it had fallen.
On the other side of the mountain, although faint, she saw the thin strip of blue, a dark blue. “Is that it? Off in the distance? Is that the sea?”
“That’s it.”
“I was always warned to stay away from here,” Kera said in a soft voice. “They’re out there. They’re in their palace out in that sea.”
“Yes, they are. The island of Arralyn is out there, and at its center is Firen-ar Castle, the palace of the gods. That’s where they live, that’s where your enemy dwells.”
“I hope to never see that place.”
Fewn let out a subtle groan. “That’s never going to be a part of the plan. Hopefully we find the white box and get onto next stage in your journey, and away from here.”
Kera stood there staring at the great mountain before them, with its dragon’s neck reaching up towards the heavens, strong muscles gleaming in the sunlight, with tiny reflections flickering off its countless scales. It reminded her of the dragon’s head she saw the night before. It reminded her of her destiny. Without saying a word, she started off towards the mountain, with good speed. Fewn quickly started after her. “Fewn—”
“Yes, Kera?”
“Thank you for being with me. As much as I’m excited for what the mountain holds, I can’t but help be a little worried.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“I know you will, and I’m grateful you’ve changed your mind about helping me. I couldn’t do this alone.”
“Yes, well, I only hope Lilaci will be as understanding if you’re right about her being alive. I don’t expect she’d be.”
“You underestimate her,” Kera said. “She would forgive . . . With time.”
“All due respect, Kera— I’ve known Lilaci a lot longer than you. She holds a grudge better than almost anyone I’ve met. She’s skilled, strong, and smart. There wasn’t a person in training who could best her. I expect her to be fully ready to get into a fight to the death when she sees me.”
“I’m not going to let that happen,” Kera said. “I told you, we’re family. And family always deserves a second chance.”
Chapter Sixteen
The sun hung high and bright in the afternoon sky, and the long dunes wound up and down like an endless sea. The winds moved them, ever-so-slowly over time, like an ancient ocean of tiny grains of sand, formed by the everlasting winds. Upon the top of the tallest dune in the region of Gorx stood three travelers— three wanderers.
They’d been traveling together for just over an hour since the storm had blown in separated them from their pursuers, a pack of Scaethers on their trail. The three of them had moved on out of the storm, and once they’d broken free from the biting maelstrom of wind and sand, they looked back to find no Scaethers following them. They either remained in the storm, waiting out its ferocious power with their deceased, or they may have fallen back to the other side of the storm. Lilaci knew the Scaethers were not one to retreat, but they were also not known to lose ever, and with the entrance of Demetrius Burr, they may have decided to rethink their strategy. She knew that was not the last she’d see of her once-comrade Garenond.
The man calling himself one of the last Knights of the Whiteblade walked next to them with long, strong strides up and over the high dune. Lilaci could tell Roren walked suspiciously next to him. They were both silent as they walked, they all assumed they’d just continue on their path towards where they thought Kera was— towards the Duen Utülm Drakon. As they walked down the backside of the long dune, sand cascaded down it from their footsteps as their feet sunk into its soft body, and they headed back down to the rocky region ahead of them. A sandsnake slithered down next to them, its body winding and flowing down as it hovered over the hot sand.
“Thank you for your help back there,” Lilaci said. Demetrius Burr looked over and nodded at her from under his hood. “Why didn’t you reveal yourself sooner? You were following us— correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. And Burr, just call me Burr.”
“Okay Burr, why were you following us?” Lilaci asked.
“I’m out on the sands for the same reason as you— I’m looking for the girl. Wanted to make sure I knew which side you’re on first.”
“Which side are you on?” Roren asked suspiciously.
“Not on their side,” Burr said, motioning back to the storm and the Scaethers left back behind them.
“Did you know they were following us?” Lilaci asked. “Were you following them? Or following us?”
“Well— both I suppose. You know, for one of them, I’d think you’d be better at hiding,” Burr said to her.
She didn’t respond.
“It’s not easy to spot Scaethers when they’re hunting you,” Roren said. “If they’re hunting something else, that’s a different story altogether. That’s why you were able to spot them.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Burr said. “In my group, we don’t allow anyone to follow us. It doesn’t happen.”
“Your group— I didn’t know still existed,” Lilaci said. “Where did you come from? I know only fragments of what your Order is, they didn’t teach us much in Sorock about the group that lost to the gods, for obvious reasons.”
“We are alive and intact and have survived in the shadows for generations— for obvious reasons. We don’t have the same strength we once had. But if there is one blessing the gods bestowed on the Arr, after defeating the dragons and stripping the desert of water, it’s that they created a wasteland that’s easy to hide in.”
“I’ll second that,” Roren said.
“Tell me about the Knights,” Lilaci asked. “I’m curious to know how you’ve survived so many ages. Where do you live?”
“Where do we live—? Where haven’t we?”
“I mean—” Lilaci added, “You must’ve found a spot that you felt safe, a place you called home, right?”
“I’ve had many homes,” Burr said with a blank stare at the ground, his weathered face seemed sad, and Lilaci thought that was the first time he’d truly shown his years to them. “And I’ve had none. I’ve mentioned that there aren’t many of us left— not because we can’t fight, hold our own, but alas— the years have grown long, and the winds have forgotten our name. A century before now, men and women came from all over the desert to seek us out, they even came from beyond the seas! Now, none come.” His eyes grew bleak, and his eyes glazed over. “It’s just our family now, that’s all we have.”
“If you don’t mind my asking,” Roren said softly, “how many are there in your family? I’m still surprised your line has remained all these years. I hope you don’t take offense to my saying so, it’s just that after all this time . . .”
“I’ll not tell you how many are left,” Burr said to Roren with a stern look. “As I’ve just met the both of you. I don’t value much trust in strangers, as you might imagine.”
“Sure,” Lilaci said. “I think I can safely say that none of us find much confidence from the outside. Hell, I can’t even trust my own now.”
“Your lot doesn’t suffer from lack of numbers at least,” Burr said.
“My lot suffers from lack of freedom,” Lilaci said with a stern tone. “They don’t know to open their eyes, just as I didn’t.”
“Your kind—” Burr said over to Roren, “they blind like the Scaethers? Who trains you all? Do others come to you? Or are you all born into it?”
“All due respect,” Roren responded with the corner of his lip curling up, “I don’t pass along that information to strangers.”
“Well we aren’t strangers now,” Burr said. “You can rest assured that we are all on the same side h
ere.” He batted at his chest with his back straight. The thuds of his fists hitting his thin armor under his cloak rustled off dust and sand, and made his voice shake slightly.
“Demetrius,” Lilaci said, “tell me about the knights. I don’t ask to find your vulnerability. I just want to know, there have been so many tales of them that linger to this day. Are they true? Did you have an alliance with the dragons? Was there a traitor in your midst?”
Burr’s head sunk, and his strong shoulders slouched over. “I won’t tell you about us who remain, but I suppose there’s no harm in speaking truths of the past. It may even be good to get some fresh blood going into those stories. So, you heard we had an alliance? That’s an interesting way to put it. I wouldn’t say it was so much of that, as it was an oath, or a promise if you will.”
“A promise?” she asked.
“Dragons be dragons,” Burr said, and Lilaci expected him to laugh when he said that, but he didn’t. “Ya don’t reason with dragons or make alliances. You just try not to be burned to the bone or eaten. They’re monsters through and through.”
“Monsters they are not!” Roren said with his voice raised and he ran out in front of them at the bottom of the long dune they’d been walking down. “They’re going to return these lands to what they were meant to be, back to the way things were before these rotten gods!”
“Easy, Roren,” Lilaci said, holding her pale palm up to him.
“You can’t believe that when and if the dragons roam the skies again that the Arr will be at peace?” Burr said in a gruff voice back to Roren. “They’re damned devils! There’s no controlling them once they’re free. I’m not certain how long your lot has been around, but I promise you mine’s been around much, much longer. We remember what they were like. They were dinky, scaly things that scoured the dunes. They murdered by the hundreds. Dragon fire would burn you til there was nothing left. Children, women, men, beasts . . . They care not what you are. All are prey to them.”
