The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga

by Josh VanBrakle

  “I met Divinion again,” he told her reluctantly.

  Rondel stared into the tiny blaze. “I’m afraid I must apologize to you again, Iren. I meant to provoke you today. I needed you to understand the danger inherent in Divinion’s power. I never expected that level of damage, though. Had I known that would happen, I would have stopped you sooner.”

  For a long time they both just sat, the snaps of the flames and the occasional call of a bird the only sounds. At last Rondel stood, dusted herself off, and said, “Well, now’s as good a time as any, I guess. I intended to wait until later in your training, but given the events of today, you should see it. Come with me.” She doused the fire and began walking west.

  Iren hauled himself off the ground and followed her, wondering where she was dragging him off to now.

  They walked for hours, never speaking. Initially, every patch of forest looked the same as the next, but eventually, Iren started noticing changes. The trees became shorter, thinner, and packed more closely together. Iren felt heat in front of him, like sitting next to a bonfire, though he could see no flame. The sky, which finally became visible, looked ominous and filled with black clouds. Iren had long anticipated exiting the forest and getting reacquainted with the open air, but now he had a strong urge to flee back into the woods.

  When the plants peeled away, Iren stopped dead, his jaw slack at the scene before him. He and Rondel stood on the edge of a vast, almost perfectly flat plain. With nothing to block his line of sight, Iren could see for miles with ease, though it brought him no comfort to do so. He couldn’t spot a single living thing: no animals, no trees, not a single blade of grass. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Large fissures crisscrossed the plain in a twisted, seething lattice of destruction. White-hot flames spurted from these crevasses, shooting hundreds of feet into the air, baking everything around them. Iren felt like he had walked into a kiln, even though the nearest crevasse was nearly half a mile away.

  Just standing on the plain’s edge, Iren’s mouth grew parched. The landscape offered no relief; not a drop of water flowed through it. Here and there, channels ran which might once have contained rivers, but they had long since dried up. Even the parts of the soil untouched by the fissures cracked from lack of moisture.

  To worsen matters, the plain was no desert. Thick, moisture-laden clouds filled the sky, stretching over the expanse all the way to the horizon. Lightning arced from sky to ground and cloud to cloud dozens of times each second. The storm gushed with rain, the greatest downpour Iren had ever witnessed. Even so, the ground remained baked. The heat of the flames evaporated any precipitation long before it hit the ground. Combined with the fires, the storm bathed the field in an unearthly glow.

  Iren fell to his knees before the terrible landscape. Juxtaposed with the natural splendor of Ziorsecth, he could hardly believe such polar opposites could stand one another’s presence.

  “Welcome to Serona, Iren,” Rondel said. “Welcome to the home of the Maantecs.”

  Iren whipped his head to face her. He couldn’t believe this was Serona, home of the greatest civilization in the history of Raa.

  Rondel clutched her arms to her chest. “It didn’t always look this way. For thousands of years, Serona was lush and green. The final battle of the Kodama-Maantec War turned it into what you see.”

  Iren struggled to find his voice, finally saying dubiously, “That happened a thousand years ago.”

  “The dragons don’t think about time the way we do. When we cause disasters like this, the repercussions must linger. That way, future generations will understand the consequences of wielding weapons they cannot control.” Rondel pointed at the nearest crevasse as its flame rent the air asunder. “See those fires? Underneath Serona sits a gigantic lake of lava. Prior to the Kodama-Maantec War, it provided us with hot springs and majestic geysers. On the day of the final battle, though, it became Serona’s undoing. When the Kodamas invaded, the Fire Dragon Knight, a Maantec named Nadav, used his biological magic to call the fires from the depths. He died in the process. The very fires he summoned enveloped and consumed him.”

  Iren gave her an odd look. “Did you say Nadav?”

  “Yes, what of it?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have the feeling I’ve heard that name before.”

  Rolling her eyes, Rondel replied, “You interrupted me just for that? Honestly, do you have any attention span whatsoever? Anyway, after Nadav died, neither the Kodamas nor the Maantecs could rescind the fires. Working with the Water Dragon Knight, a Kodama, I used nearly all my magic to create a massive storm, the clouds you see overhead. The Water Dragon Knight perished, and I became the withered crone before you. Despite our sacrifice, though, the fires surpassed us. Their heat simply energized the storm, ensuring that it would never abate. I tried to improve the situation, but in the end, I only made it worse.”

  Iren stared across the desolate landscape. All this destruction had happened because of Iren Saito and his war. Iren gulped. Although he didn’t want to, he knew he needed to ask. “Rondel, why did you name me after Iren Saito, someone who brought so much pain into the world? Was it because you hated Maantecs? You wanted me to suffer, so you gave me his name as a punishment?”

  Rondel’s focus shifted out over Serona. Her mouth worked slowly, chewing on the words she planned to say. At length she answered, “Despite what you may think, I am not that vindictive. Amroth merely caught me by surprise when he revealed you. When I first saw you, I couldn’t help but think of Saito. Even as an infant, you bore an uncanny resemblance to him. I wish now that I had named you differently, but I must admit, it fits you well. You still look like him, and the two of you have a lot in common, more than you realize.”

  “How can you compare me to him?” Iren protested. “Iren Saito was a monster!”

  She shook her head, a nostalgic smile on her face. “In the end, yes, but when I first met him, I had never encountered a gentler person. After my parents died, other than the Storm Dragon Knight, no one cared about or even noticed me. Iren Saito did. He healed me from my sorrow. I don’t think I ever laughed as much as when I spent time with him. The day he asked me to marry him was the happiest of my life.”

  Iren’s jaw dropped. “Iren Saito was your husband?”

  Rondel flushed. “When he and I wed, I thought of nothing but the bliss of our immortality together.” Her expression soured. “How dreams fade.”

  “What happened?”

  Serona’s flames reflected in the old Maantec’s emerald eyes. “He became the Holy Dragon Knight and Emperor of the Maantecs along with it. Over time, his status changed him. He became convinced of Maantec superiority. He said the other races needed our guidance to survive and that Raa could only have peace if Maantecs ruled it. I went along with him at first. He still captivated me, and when he spoke, I couldn’t help but melt before him. Eventually, though, I could no longer support him. I know I made the right choice when I marched against him in the final battle, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have any regrets. To this day, when I think of him, I still see the young man who rescued me from despair and taught me how to love.”

  Rondel gazed at Iren with longing. “Remember how I told you I drank so that I could approach you? I did that not just because of your Maantec heritage, but because you reminded me of Saito. Though he died a thousand years ago, you and he share a lot in common. Iren Saito was selfish and arrogant, but he also had a kindness and nobility that few Maantecs possess. He had a strong desire to protect others, no matter the cost to himself.” She laughed a little. “He also had a tendency to be headstrong and not to listen to his elders. Sound familiar?”

  Iren gestured harshly at the burning plain. “Now I understand why you and Aletas wanted me brought here. By showing me the disaster Iren Saito created, you thought you would provide such a searing image that I wouldn’t repeat his mistake. You believed that since I share so much in common with Saito, I would turn out just like him.”

&n
bsp; Rondel shrugged. “Aletas might think that, but I don’t. At least, not anymore. Admittedly, that’s why I didn’t tell you everything about magic when we first met in Lodia. I feared teaching you more than absolutely necessary, in case you did wind up like him. However, I no longer have that fear.”

  Desperate hope filled Iren’s heart. “Why not?”

  “When we first encountered Minawë, in Akaku, you could have left her and pursued your revenge. Instead, you helped her. Iren Saito would not have made that choice. He may have started the Kodama-Maantec War with intentions of protecting others, but he became so obsessed with victory that he lost sight of that goal. When I reunited with you in Yuushingaral and saw Minawë still alive, I knew I could put my faith in you. Tell me; after all the alcohol you saw me drink in Lodia, how much have I had since we met in Aletas’s tree?”

  Iren thought back. “Aside from the glass you were drinking when we first reconnected, not a drop. You didn’t bring any with you on this trip.”

  “Correct. I no longer need it. When you threw away your desire for revenge in order to help Minawë, I realized that while you and my husband are similar, you’re also very different. Back when we were traveling in Lodia with Amroth and Balear, I couldn’t bring myself to look at your face. Every time I tried, I saw Saito staring back at me. But now I don’t have any difficulty looking you in the eye, because when I look at you now, I no longer see Iren Saito.” She smiled genuinely. “I see Iren Saitosan.”

  Iren beamed at the compliment, but then a new confusion came to him. “Wait. If you didn’t bring me here because you feared I would become another Iren Saito, why did we have to trudge all the way out here in the first place?”

  Rondel folded her arms. “I say all these kind things to you, and that’s how you respond? If you must know, I wanted to motivate you, slacker. See those fires out there? The Karyozaki created them. I brought you here not because of Iren Saito, but because of the Fire Dragon, Feng. That monster enjoys destruction, and he chooses his Dragon Knights well. Nadav believed in strength and nothing else. He believed that the strong deserved to live, and the weak deserved to die. A thousand years later, Amroth seems almost like Nadav reincarnated. I brought you here to understand the consequences of failure. Should Amroth triumph, the fires of Serona will no doubt spread and engulf the world.”

  Iren’s throat felt dry, and not just because of Serona’s heat. Horrid visions danced through his mind: Lodia’s fertile fields naked and withered, and Ziorsecth and Akaku Forests without a single tree.

  “Come,” Rondel interjected on his reverie. “We must not linger. No living creature can survive Serona, and even to dwell on its edge invites death. We’ll find a place to rest and then resume your training.”

  The old Maantec turned to reenter the woods, but Iren suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Rondel, I just remembered.”

  She looked curiously back at him, then started at his ashen face. “What is it?”

  “That name . . . Nadav. I knew I’d heard it before, but I couldn’t place it. What you said just now, though, triggered my memory. Amroth mentioned it to me, the first night we left Haldessa. He said Nadav was his commander in Caardit.”

  Now Rondel’s turn to tremble and sweat had come. “Nadav?” she repeated, panic in her voice. “You’re certain?”

  The moment Iren nodded, all the color drained from her face as well. “We must return to Yuushingaral immediately!” she cried. “Even now, we may be too late!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Reunions

  Rondel shot back into the forest, her speed enhanced by magic. Iren kept pace with her, and she loosed a grim smile at his progress. In four short months of training, he had come far. As he sped through Ziorsecth, his body blurring alongside Rondel’s, she wondered if he finally comprehended her tough teaching strategy. By pushing Iren to the brink of what his body could do, Rondel had forced the young Maantec to greatly increase the amount of environmental magic he could use. That magic now carried him as swift as any eagle. Still, she knew he hadn’t progressed enough, not considering what Iren had just told her.

  She finally understood Amroth. All of his plans, all of his deceptions, the true purposes behind them made perfect sense to her. It made her furious, the way the man had fooled her. In spite of her Lightning Sight, he had totally blinded her to his true identity.

  “Rondel,” Iren shouted, “what’s happened? What does some militia leader in Caardit have to do with the Fire Dragon Knight of a thousand years ago?”

  “Everything,” she replied, Lightning Sight activating as her rage took her, “they’re one and the same.”

  “What? How is that possible?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Nadav isn’t a Lodian name. It’s Maantec, and in the last thousand years, I’ve known of only one.”

  “You said Nadav died in the Kodama-Maantec War!” Iren countered. “How could Amroth know about him?”

  “Because Amroth is a Maantec.”

  “Impossible! You’re joking!”

  “I wish. He must have hidden his left-handedness all the time he lived in Lodia. He probably even strategically used some of his biological magic in Haldessa to gradually age himself, all to reduce any suspicion of his Maantec heritage.”

  “Maantec or not,” Iren asked, “what connects Amroth to Nadav?”

  “Amroth must have served under Nadav in the Kodama-Maantec War. During the war, Nadav campaigned in Lodia, trying to bring the humans under Maantec control to fight the Kodamas. However, a force of humans, Tengu, and Kodamas rose in union against him and all but wiped out his army outside Caardit. With no other options for retreat, Nadav took his few survivors north into the frozen wastes of Charda, where the other races dared not follow. According to the report he later gave Iren Saito, Nadav relied on his fire magic to keep his men alive. He even risked excursions into Ziorsecth to bring the men food, since almost none exists in Charda. Eventually, Nadav got the entire group back to Serona, thin and weary but alive. From that moment on, Nadav’s companies showed absolute loyalty to their commander, and they always fought harder than any other unit. Any one of them would gladly have died to support the man who successfully brought them through that icy nightmare.”

  “That means Amroth fought in the Kodama-Maantec War,” Iren said. “He’s one of the few Maantecs who survived the final battle.”

  Rondel nodded. “During that battle, all Nadav’s men rallied around him. When Nadav unleashed the fires beneath Serona, the flames swallowed up him and his companions. They even destroyed the Karyozaki.”

  “If the fires destroyed the sword,” Iren asked, “how did that Oni back in Akaku get it?”

  “That had me puzzled from the moment I first laid eyes on Hezna, but I think I can finally guess at least some of what happened. Amroth, perhaps alone of Nadav’s men, escaped the fires and found Feng’s gem, the Burning Ruby. The stones containing the dragons are indestructible, so even Serona’s flames couldn’t melt it. Amroth must have spent the last thousand years trying to reforge the Karyozaki.”

  “He obviously succeeded.”

  “Yes,” Rondel admitted, “which begs the question, how did Hezna acquire it and not Amroth? I suppose at this point it has little relevance. The more immediate problem is that Amroth can finally achieve his ultimate objective.”

  “Which is?”

  Lightning Sight flared. “Isn’t it obvious? Total revenge against the Kodamas, the species he considers responsible for Nadav’s death.”

  Iren looked shocked, but Rondel shook her head, knowing she’d only told him half the story. Amroth sought revenge against more than the Kodamas. He had another, far more personal vendetta in mind. He wanted vengeance against the person whose treason brought about the final battle and, in so doing, had forced Nadav to unleash the spell that killed him and his subordinates: Rondel herself.

  With their enhanced speed the journey to Yuushingaral, a distance of over a hundred and fifty miles, took less t
han three hours. Rondel expected to find the Kodaman capital exactly as they’d left it, but instead they entered a village in total disarray. Whereas before it looked just like any other patch of forest, now dozens of Kodamas ran frantically from tree to tree, delivering messages, supply crates, and weapons. Rondel frowned, fearing they had arrived too late.

  Stone-faced sentinels greeted Iren and Rondel and ushered them immediately to Aletas’s tree. Every Kodama they encountered bore arms. Even the small boy Rondel had seen guarding Iren during his imprisonment bore a short bow and quiver. Rondel doubted the boy would serve as more than a target in battle, but she respected the child’s apparent lack of fear.

  Her own trepidation had to be more on display. Iren Saito’s curse had nearly wiped out the Kodaman population a thousand years ago, and the species had never recovered. With their long lives, the Kodamas, like the other immortal races, had always been slow to reproduce. Before the curse, they could resist any force bearing down on them, but no longer.

  Iren’s somber expression indicated he felt the same way. Both Maantecs knew, with a certainty they dared not set in words, the outcome of this battle.

  Every last Kodama was going to die.

  The pair entered the queen’s tree, and the door sealed itself behind them. Taking seats in the tree’s entry room, they waited a moment as three figures walked down the stairs to join them. First came Aletas, her normally deep tan complexion gone thoroughly pale. Though she looked as youthful as ever, her gait shuffled like a cripple’s. She carried a tray of teacups, but with each step they rattled, threatening to spill with her unsteady walk. The second person was Minawë, doing her best to say reassuring words to Aletas.

  As the third figure came into view, Iren suddenly leapt to his feet, his body taut. Despite the grave situation, Rondel couldn’t help but grin. The boy must have thought he’d never see this man again.

  Balear Platarch looked uncomfortable in his Lodian military uniform, and his face contorted in a mix of happiness and guilt as he recognized Rondel and Iren. They all exchanged greetings, then sat down together. Aletas sighed as she set her tray on the table between them all, visibly relieved when everyone had taken a cup without any spills.