by N. M. Howell
Finally, Andie looked up. She thought she’d misheard Saeryn or maybe misunderstood what she meant.
“What?” she asked. “What did you say?”
“You have my blood.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is common knowledge about our heritage among the dragonborn, but perhaps that knowledge got wiped away as the years passed and the sorcerers destroyed our books and our histories in your world. It is the coloring that gives it away.”
“Coloring? What do you mean?” She was curious but also disinterested. She ran her fingers along the floor as she listened, partially lost in her own thoughts.
Saeryn reached out and stroked Andie’s unkempt amethyst hair. “Each family shares a coloring, Andryne.”
Andie’s attention snapped back up at the sound of her full name. She considered what Saeryn was saying and realization slowly dawned on her. She gazed forward at Saeryn’s beautiful, silken magenta hair. “We share the same coloring.”
Saeryn nodded and smiled. “Not only that, but a dragon does not just let anyone ride it. There are only two instances a dragon allows a rider on its back who is not its rightful pair. The first, is if you are family, related to the rider.”
Andie considered a moment and nodded. “That explains why I rode your dragon, I suppose. What about Oren’s?” The mere thought of Oren’s name send a shiver up her spine. She tried to push the thought of him and his dragon away, but all she could see now was the memory of his beast taking Yara away.
Saeryn tilted Andie’s chin up so they locked eyes. “The second, is if that rider is of royal blood. A dragon will allow the royal lineage to ride its back, regardless of who their true rider is. I’ll admit I don’t fully understand it, but it dates back to the earliest days when the dragons first roamed the earth and we first bonded with the magnificent creatures. I believe our family, the royal line, were the first to bond with the dragons.”
Andie stared wide-eyed at Saeryn, her thoughts working wildly as she tried to grasp what she was hearing. “But I don’t understand. How can that be?”
“I believe we are from the same lineage.”
“I… What? But you’re from over one thousand years before. What does this even mean?”
“It means, my sweet Andryne. That you are born to be the dragonborn Queen. You are my heir.”
Andie swallowed hard and shook her head. “Impossible. I’m no Queen. I’m a murderer… I couldn’t even save my friends. I have no right to any throne.”
“Andie, you are my blood. Whether you chose to accept this or not, you are a dragonborn ruler. One day you will be the Queen of the dragonborn.”
Andie was dumbfounded and she almost fell over from the shock. She wasn’t exactly happy or sad or angry or anything. With all the joy she felt at having beaten the University and the pain she felt at having lost so much and so many, she hadn’t really known how she felt in weeks. She was completely convoluted inside. And now Saeryn was telling her that she was royalty and would be Queen someday. Queen. She wondered if it was good news, if it was bad news, or if it was just one more thing she had to consider her duty to fulfill.
“Andie, the first thing you need to understand is how happy I am to know that you are my blood and how proud I am of everything that you have done, every trial and hardship that you have battled through to be here today. You are so strong it makes my heart burst to look at you. But the time for your self-pity is at an end. I have allowed you to grieve as much as I felt necessary, but now you must hold fast and gather your courage. There is a long road ahead and millions of people in this city and in this region will be looking for someone to lead them, someone to make them believe again. The dragonborn want someone to be a link between their world and this new one that we find ourselves flung into. I want with all my soul for that person to be you.
“I know what you’ve lost and I know that it hurts unlike any other pain you’re ever likely to feel again, but what is done cannot be undone. We have all suffered a great deal. The other dragonborn suffered these same losses centuries ago when the war against us first began. Yet here we stand. You are royalty. And, far more than simply a silly title, being royalty means leading, inspiring, and protecting. You cannot allow yourself to be this person that you’ve become. You mean too much to too many people. I need you too much to watch you whither like this.”
Saeryn touched Andie’s face and wiped the tears that had begun to fall. Andie was hurting so deeply inside that there didn’t seem an end to the pain, but she knew Saeryn was right. She had known it for quite some time now. She recognized that none of her pain would ever fully be healed, but there would come a point when she would have to focus, to pick herself up and go on with the business of living. That point had come. If the dragonborn needed her, if Arvall City needed her, she would be there.
“Of course,” Andie said. “Back in the Hot Salts, Oren looked shocked when his dragon let me ride her. It all makes sense now. But I still don’t think I…”
“You are the strongest person I’ve met. Not only that, but you are unique. You represent everything this world needs right now. You are sorcerer and you are dragonborn. There is no one better to represent our people in this new era of peace.”
The words were too much for her to handle, but Andie knew it was her duty to stay strong. To stay true to herself, and part of her always knew there was more to this life than what she had grown up believing. Finally, she nodded. Accepting her fate as best she could, given the circumstances.
“So, what happens now? Do the rest of our people know that I’m your heir?”
“Well, I haven’t made a formal pronouncement, but I’m sure once they saw you riding my dragon they figured it out. I can assure you, this news will please them all. I don’t know if you yet understand how much the people love you. You’ve done more for them than you know.”
“I’m just glad to have them.”
“Good. Now that we’ve come to an understanding, there are things we should talk about. But first, Oren wants to speak with you.”
Anger flashed across Andie’s face at the mention of his name. “No, I will not see him.”
“Andie, he has information you need to know. Information that I think will lighten your heart and help you move on from the darkness that has bound you to this room for all these months. You must hear him.” Saeryn placed her hand on Andie’s cheek as she spoke, and when Andie didn’t respond, she turned to leave the room and Oren stepped through the door in her place.
“Say whatever it is you have to say and then leave,” Andie said coolly. “I have nothing I want to say to you.”
Oren narrowed his brow as he looked down at Andie on the floor, but he quickly closed door and joined her in the center of the room. It took him a long while to collect his thoughts, but when he finally spoke, his voice held warmth and compassion.
“Andie, about Yara,” he began.
Andie’s heart beat wildly in her chest as she listened. Her best friend, Yara. Mistaken for a traitor and wrongfully executed at the hands of the man before her. She hated him almost as much as she hated herself. “Speak.”
“It is not the dragonborn way to kill. It was my duty to deal with the traitor, but when the time came, I was unable to see it through.”
Andie sat up straighter, frozen in place. What had he just said?
Oren continued, “I sent her through a time spell. I couldn’t be responsible for killing one of our own, so I sent her through a portal, back towards where I once came.”
Andie’s mouth hung open. “You didn’t kill her.” She could hardly believe her ears. She pushed herself up off the floor and began to pace the room, repeating the words to herself. She turned to Oren abruptly and froze again in place. “So, she’s alive?”
Oren nodded solemnly and held his hand on Andie’s shoulder. “She is. Just not in our time. Andie, Yara is gone. It is best not to dwell on it, but I hope that knowing she was not killed brings you some peace.”
Andie’s eyes filled with tears as she flung her arms around the man before her. He stood there, awkward for a moment, but then wrapped his arms around her and held her close as she wept. The two stood there in their embrace for many long minutes until Andie finally regained her breath and wiped away the tears.
“Thank you, Oren.” She unwound herself from his arms and stepped back from him, letting out a deep breath she had been holding. “Thank you.”
Oren nodded and turned to leave. He turned back to look at her as he held the door open. “You will make a great ruler, Andie. I am honored to serve you.” And with that, he walked out of her room and Andie listened to his footsteps as they disappeared into the silence.
A moment later, Saeryn rejoined Andie in her room. Andie beamed at the Queen, the weight of guilt finally lifted from her heart. But her smile was short-lived as she recognized the pain in Saeryn’s eyes.
Saeryn took a deep breath and looked down at her hands for a moment. It was a thing she rarely did, a gesture of hesitation. Generally, she was a woman of action and conviction. If there was something she was having trouble saying to Andie, it couldn’t be good.
“As you know, we’ve sent out warriors to track down the rest of the battalion, but so far we haven’t had any luck. However, this morning those warriors came back with news of a different problem. As they were flying back over the String Fields to reenter the city, there was a message burned in the fields.”
“What did it say?”
“Fhealltóir Fola. It means blood traitor and it is from a language that is no longer spoken in your era. I think convincing the rest of Noelle is going to be a much larger issue than we initially believed. Before the University attacked us, there were others who either envied us or sought our power. And none of them was so darkly vicious as a certain group from the north. They haunted us and tormented us in ways the University couldn’t even dream of. When the University finally did begin to come after us, this group disappeared. We assumed they’d moved out of Noelle or died off. But this message was their calling card once upon a time and it is a phrase only they or a dragonborn would know.”
“Do you think they’ve been hiding all these years?”
“Why not? The world assumed we were dead and yet here we are. Why should they be any different? Andie, if these people are still alive, then there are no doubts about it. There will be war. And much of it.”
“That’s the last thing we need. They’ve got to be close. The String Fields border Arvall on the eastern side. That’s just outside of the city.”
“And make no mistake. They will come.”
Andie looked around her at her books. She looked back up at Saeryn with a devilish grin.
“Then let them come.”
“What?” Saeryn said, shocked. “Andie, I don’t think you understand.”
“Look to your right. Pick up one of those thin volumes in the far pile.”
Saeryn turned and reached for the book. She brought it into her lap and began to study it. It wasn’t until she opened the cover that she gasped.
“This is a journal from the House Erato, one of the seven founding families of Arvall!” she said, turning it over in her hands and observing every inch of it. “This is incredible. Where did you find such a thing?”
“In Leabharlann. Now that we have unrestricted access, I’m finding all kinds of things you wouldn’t believe. I have journals from all seven of the founding families and I’ve been studying them. You won’t believe the secrets they were keeping, even from each other. Even within the families there was strife. But what’s most interesting is that of all the visits they made to study the past and to visit different places in their contemporary time, they only made one journey to the future. And you can’t imagine what they found.”
“What?”
“That’s a long story. But look around you again and this time look closely.”
Saeryn began to look at the books again, everyone within reach. She peered closer and began to read the names and the dates. As she did so, she began to move faster and faster getting more and more excited and falling further and further into disbelief. Her heart was racing and Andie could hear her breath changing. Finally, Saeryn looked back at Andie.
“They’re grimoires! Our grimoires!”
“These were stolen from the dragonborn and they date back almost a thousand years,” Andie said. “And the University wasn’t just stealing from us. They stole from dozens of different tribes and cities. There’s more knowledge and power here than any one group of people could ever amass on their own. It’s part of why the University became so powerful and they could’ve been totally unstoppable, but they could never utilize anything from the ones they stole from us. Only someone with dragonblood could use these spells. And more still, there are hundreds, thousands of books in the archives that can tell us everything we need to know to rebuild, to unite, to be as we never were before.”
“Andie, why haven’t you told anyone about any of this?” Saeryn asked, still pouring over the books. “There’s so much knowledge and wisdom here. So much beautiful information.”
“I was afraid, at first. Knowledge corrupts, warps. But with your help I can control this. Saeryn, we need specific things to move forward with this.”
“Like what?”
“First we’ll need professor Marcus Iceubes. He once taught folklore at the University, and he’s one of the good guys. Then we’ll need salt paint—it’s going to help us a long way in our preparations. And finally, I need you to tell me everything you remember about the Old World. We have a lot of work cut out for us, but with the chancellor dead and his weapon destroyed, we have every chance at rebuilding this world into what it was always meant to be.”
“And what is that?”
“A place where all races can live together in peace. And a place where dragons can once again fly free in the sky.”
Epilogue
“I think he’s dead.”
“He’s not dead, he’s just unconscious. No one is stronger than he is.”
“He’s dead, look at him. His heart isn’t even beating.”
“Shut up. We will save him. We just have to get north.”
“This is ridiculous. Why are we slowing ourselves down dragging a dead body?”
“I told you, he’s not dead. We just need to get there as soon as we can.”
“Even if you’re right, he’s as good as dead. He’s been gone for weeks. All I’m trying to say is that we’re wasting valuable and limited resources on him and we don’t even fully understand what they can even do for him if we get there.”
“What they’re going to do is save him. They’ll put him back together, and between their magic and the power of his suit, we’ll save our greatest weapon. He’s our leader. And if there’s even the slightest chance that we can save him then it’s a chance worth taking. And we can always scavenge or take more supplies when we need them.”
“He wouldn’t want us to be this careless. We’re supposed to move every night, but we can’t do that and drag him around with us at the same time. So, we move every three nights and that puts the entire group in danger. They’ve got dragonborn, Council fighters, and who knows who else out looking for us. You really want to try to save a guy who could die from too much motion?”
“If you’re so sure he’s dead, then why don’t you just dump his body and be done with it? But if you’re wrong and he does wake up, and he finds out you tried to ditch him, do you think I’m going to stick up for you?”
The other man shut his mouth and looked around himself peevishly. The entire battalion was watching.
“Now, I think you’ll agree that it’s best to give him a chance. Even if his body is broken and his breath has left him, we saw what their strange magic did to the people of Noelle. It’s not impossible to bring someone back from the dead. We need to get him up north where the forces are, or else we have no hope of defeating them and taking back the world. We’re done talking about th
is. Everybody listen up. Get your gear together and let’s get on with it. We have a long journey ahead of us if we’re going to make it north and have any hope of defeating these damn barbarians and their dragons. I need three guys to help me carry the bed.”
“This is ridiculous. I can’t believe we’re risking our lives dragging his dead body with us.”
“He’s not dead, I tell ya. Even if his body is, we’ll bring him back. We have to. Without him—without our greatest weapon—we have no chance at destroying those beasts once and for all. We have to try.”
“I still think we’re wasting our time. That suit can only do so much, and his body is barely in one piece. He’s gone. We’ve lost. It’s done. The bloody dragonborn have won.”
“Shut up and lift the damn bed. Alright everybody, move.”
As the group moved onward in the darkness, the form lay wrapped tightly in bandages, his suit barely clinging to what was left of his body. The battalion marched in silence, the echo of their footsteps the only sound in the dark night. On and on they marched, barely stopping to regain their breath and fill their water canisters.
Throughout the entire night, the men pressed on, determined to get their one final weapon to safety. They would bring Ashur’s destroyed body to their allies in the north. Their hopes had faded, but not necessarily lost. If they could only make it in time to have him brought back, they had a chance. If anything, they could salvage the suit and create a new weapon, perhaps, although most had already given up that hope.
But as they marched, a shadow stirred. Under the tightly-wrapped linens, the power from the suit reached Ashur’s very core. His heart began to beat again, and the silence of the night was pierced with his scream.
Their weapon was alive.
About the Author
N.M. Howell is an author, publisher, and all-around nerd from the West Coast of Canada. She has an obsession with coffee, spicy food, and the rain, and she absolutely hates sleeves (seriously, they’re like little fabric prisons)! When not working on her latest book - or latest ten books, more realistically - she spends her time designing buildings and fighting with her micro-wolf pup over who gets the best spot on the couch. Hint: the dog often wins.
