The Wings of Dragons: Book One of the Dragoon Saga

by Josh VanBrakle

  Iren listened to the queen’s tirade with pity. In many ways, she was right. She was wrong on one critical point, however. Unsure where his courage came from, he said, “Queen Aletas, you cannot fault the dragons for the Kodamas’ suffering. The blame lies with people, like Iren Saito and Amroth, who let their desire for power consume them. But that has nothing to do with dragons or Heaven. Heavenly hands don’t shape this world; people’s hands, our hands, do. Our hands can heal others or wound them. Our hands can pick up the outcasts and help them live better lives, or they can swing swords and cast deadly spells. We, not dragons, make these choices. The dragons are neither curses nor plagues; they are gifts. How we use such gifts, though, isn’t fixed. We decide. We decide whether to use Heaven’s gifts for salvation or destruction. Amroth chose the latter, but I for one will choose salvation!”

  As Iren spoke, he became more and more passionate, his voice rising and his excitement growing until he shouted as loud as he could. When he finished, he blinked several times. He felt like he had momentarily departed reality. Immediately, he realized how rude he must have sounded, criticizing this queen who had lived far longer and seen much more of life than he had. Still, he knew in his heart he’d spoken the truth.

  For a long time nobody moved, tensely awaiting Aletas’s reaction to Iren’s outburst. She worked her lips, biting her lower one nervously. Finally, the queen said, “Evil will triumph if we do nothing.” She sighed, gazed up at the forest canopy, and, after a pause, smiled broadly as she whispered, “Yes, I too will choose salvation.”

  Rondel gave Iren a knowing smirk. “Take your bow, Queen Aletas, and may it defend your people as it did in ancient times.”

  The Kodaman queen wrapped her hand around the Chloryoblaka and lifted it. She drew a long breath, and then slowly exhaled through her teeth. “We have much to prepare and little time to do so. Rondel, I will gather the Kodamas and head for the forest edge. Meet us there in five days. Minawë, let’s go.”

  Minawë joined the queen, and the pair began to leave. As they stepped away, Aletas turned to Iren and said, “For the moment, Maantec, it seems I need you. I won’t force you out of Ziorsecth. Can you keep your emotions in check and avoid another disaster?”

  Iren gave her the same wry expression Minawë had used on him earlier that evening when describing the Heart of Ziorsecth. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

  Aletas didn’t look at all thrilled with his answer, but Minawë laughed and nodded approvingly. The two Kodamas departed, leaving Iren and Rondel alone on the beach’s edge.

  Rondel clapped the young man on the back. “You know, slacker, you give quite a speech when you have to.”

  Iren chortled. “I wish I knew where it came from. I think Divinion gave me a helping hand.”

  “Did he now?” She didn’t seem convinced.

  They stood together quietly for a few seconds, but then Rondel asked, “By the way, what’s that rock you’re carrying?”

  Iren glanced down. His left hand still clutched his sea stone. He tossed it gently a few times, considering. Finally, he shrugged and replied, “What, this? I don’t think it matters anymore.”

  With a mighty throw, he hurled it across the beach and into the sea, forever lost amid the endless waves.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Meaning of Strength

  A week later at sunset, Iren stood on the eastern edge of Ziorsecth, beholding the land he once cast aside. Shadows fell thick on Lodia as the sun dipped below the tree line. Balear, Minawë, and Rondel rested beside him, preparing, each in his or her own way, to face the unthinkable.

  Balear looked worst off of all of them. He trembled constantly, and he kept fingering his blade, then looking at it with disgust. Iren could guess what was going through the man’s mind. He had betrayed Amroth, a man he’d admired more than any other. He had betrayed Lodia, the country he’d devoted his life to protecting. How many men would die because of him? How many would he himself have to strike down?

  Only Rondel seemed calm. Seated on a rock, she stared at the empty expanse of Lodia, waiting for fires on the horizon that would herald the enemy’s arrival. Alone of all of them, she knew about war. She had witnessed Serona. She had seen the land rent asunder and the Kodamas slaughtered. Tonight, that history that might well repeat itself.

  Iren rolled his shoulders, trying to make his wooden armor more comfortable. He wore a breastplate, bracers, greaves, a helmet, and a round shield large enough to protect him but small enough to leave him room to swing the Muryozaki with one hand. Minawë had given him the armor, and both she and Balear also wore sets of it. She’d offered Rondel some as well, but the old Maantec had declined, preferring not to inhibit her movement.

  Though made of light tan wood, the armor was no thicker than normal plate. When Minawë had first shown it to him, Iren had possessed little confidence in it until she’d explained, “Our smiths use spells to condense the wood. Pound for pound, wood is stronger than steel. This armor will match any in Lodia, yet it weighs much less.”

  It was indeed lightweight, but Iren did find it itchy. Then again, it might just be nerves. At last report, a mere six hundred Kodamas had reached the forest’s edge. Lodia’s army outnumbered theirs nearly ten to one.

  From atop her rock, Rondel shifted to look probingly at Balear. “Describe Amroth’s sword for me. I only saw it briefly during my fight with Hezna.”

  The former general jumped when Rondel spoke to him, but he stumbled through his depiction. When he finished, the crone frowned and said, “Iren, show Balear your sword.”

  Iren did so, and as Balear looked at it, Rondel said, “Balear, I need you to remember. Do you see the symbols on Iren’s blade? Did Amroth’s sword have the same writing?”

  Immediately, Balear responded, “Yes, exactly.”

  Rondel heaved a sigh of relief, but then the Lodian began again, “Wait. Wait a second.” The old Maantec tensed. Balear said, “This sword has three circles. Amroth’s only had two.”

  Swearing, Rondel got up and began storming around the woods. Iren said nothing, but he understood. That third circle kept the dragon’s will in check. Without it, the dragon’s and knight’s psyches could merge. Whoever had reforged the Karyozaki had, whether by accident or design, done so incorrectly. They’d only engraved the first two circles. It explained why Amroth’s behavior had changed so drastically since becoming the Fire Dragon Knight. He wasn’t Amroth anymore; Feng had manipulated his thoughts and twisted his mind.

  More than the number of soldiers they faced, that fact worried Iren most of all. Judging by Rondel’s reaction, she felt the same way. After all, as little experience as Iren had as a Dragon Knight, Amroth had even less. Had Amroth’s sword been forged correctly, Iren might have stood a chance against him. Feng’s dominance, however, made such victory unlikely.

  Iren opened his mouth to ask Rondel how to deal with Feng, but as he did, Minawë leapt to her feet and shouted, “I see them!”

  Everyone rushed to her side. Balear’s trembling got so bad Iren feared the poor man might faint. Iren felt much the same way as he noticed, on the horizon, flickering torches pierce the night. Their line stretched for miles. Iren couldn’t feel his individual heartbeats. They came so fast that they all blurred together.

  Not long after the torches appeared, faint, rhythmic impacts reached his ears: drums, pounding out the unceasing march of the Lodian army. Rondel’s face hardened further, if that were even possible. “Minawë, I trust all the Kodamas have taken their positions?”

  She nodded, but Iren was skeptical. Despite Minawë’s assurances that six hundred Kodamas had gathered, Iren had seen barely a dozen, and then only on the way here days ago. He hoped Aletas hadn’t decided to have her people retreat and make Iren and Rondel fight alone.

  If Rondel shared that concern, she didn’t voice it. Instead, she said, “Good, then listen carefully. When the enemy gets here, Iren, I want you to help the Kodamas battle the Lodian soldiers.” She cl
enched her fists and teeth. “I will fight Amroth alone.”

  Iren leapt forward in protest. “You can’t! You told me yourself you couldn’t match him!”

  Balear nodded his agreement. “The Lodian army only has conscripts. If the king falls, they’ll likely flee. We should target him first.”

  Rondel replied, “True, but five thousand soldiers can still do a great deal of damage before Amroth dies. We must keep them away from the forest as much as possible. Iren, I intended to train you for at least several more months, maybe years, before we faced this foe. Even then, I planned to confront him together. We no longer have that luxury. The Kodamas need help against the Lodian soldiers, which means we can only field one Dragon Knight against Amroth. I’ll have a better chance against him than you would. Besides,” she flashed him a fierce expression, “Amroth wants me in this fight. This is my fate. I will follow Okthora’s Law.”

  “Evil must be annihilated.” Iren and Rondel said it at the same time. The young Maantec choked back tears. Rondel was throwing her life away, yet he could do nothing to stop her.

  “Rondel, what should I do?” Minawë asked.

  “Take Balear and rendezvous with the other Kodamas. Make sure Balear gets a bow. He’ll need one.”

  The Kodaman princess protested, “I want to stay and fight with you and Iren!”

  To Iren’s amazement, Rondel reached up and placed a gentle hand on Minawë’s shoulder. “You really are your parents’ daughter. I know you want to help, and that’s why I’m asking you to go to the other Kodamas. Get into the trees; we’ll need all the support we can get.”

  Minawë looked like she might argue, but then Iren stepped forward. “I’ll be counting on you,” he said. “You and I fought hard to cross Lodia and get here safely. During that journey you showed a resolve unmatched by anyone I’ve ever met. If we battle this night with half of your courage, I know we’ll triumph.”

  Despite herself, she smiled, eyes shimmering as she replied, “You moron.” Then she motioned to Balear and said, “Let’s go.”

  The group separated, Iren and Rondel stepping just beyond the forest. As Iren crossed the tree line, he heard Minawë call out, “Hey, Iren!”

  He turned, and despite the gloom, he could see that her face glowed with confidence. “When we win this battle,” she shouted, “let’s go home to Yuushingaral together!”

  Nodding slightly, he answered, “You got it.”

  With that, Minawë and Balear departed, leaving Iren and Rondel alone on the forest’s edge. Lodia’s army was now only a few miles away. As they approached, a torch at the front of the column erupted into a vast pillar of fire. Iren spat. Amroth obviously cared little about surprise or conserving his magic. He walked boldly, his flame creation twisting and licking the sky as though longing to consume the heavens themselves.

  Rondel unsheathed the Liryometa. “I’ll draw Amroth away from the main force. Wait here and let Lodia’s army come to you.”

  “Why? They’ll overwhelm me and charge into the forest. I can fight more freely on the plain.”

  “All this time, and you still talk back,” Rondel retorted. “Just do as your teacher instructs. The Kodamas will trim their numbers for you.”

  Iren cocked an eyebrow. “What Kodamas? I still have yet to see this mythical force.”

  Rondel smirked. “That’s the point, slacker. You can’t see them,” she pointed at Lodia’s army, “and neither can they.”

  “You know, you’re supposed to keep secrets from your enemies, not your allies.”

  “Sometimes it’s strategic to do both.”

  Iren pouted. “That’s a bunch of nonsense, and you know it. Stubborn old hag.”

  “Petulant child.”

  “Withered bird!”

  “Numbskull!”

  The pair glared at each other several more seconds. Then, on the verge of battle, with death steadily approaching, they both laughed. Rondel walked a few paces toward the advancing Lodian force and, without looking back, said, “Whatever happens, I want you to know I’ve never had a better student.”

  Crossing his arms, Iren said doubtfully, “Oh? I suppose that’s because you’ve never had another student?”

  The old woman craned her head around and shot Iren an impish smile. Then, activating Lightning Sight, she launched into the night.

  * * *

  Rondel bounded across the plain, the Liryometa gripped in her left hand. It took all she had not to look back at Iren. She wondered if she’d prepared him for what he would soon face and whether or not he would survive the night.

  It was all the more reason for her not to delay. At top speed she flashed toward the Lodian army, even knowing that such a direct approach made her vulnerable to arrow fire. She doubted Amroth would have his archers shoot at her, though, for two reasons. First, he’d seen her easily dodge arrows back in Veliaf. Second, and of far greater importance, she was certain that Amroth would want to kill her personally.

  As Rondel approached, the pillar of fire guiding the Lodians vanished, and Amroth stepped forward. Rondel could barely tell that he was the man she remembered from Haldessa. His eyes gleamed sulfurous yellow like a Yokai’s, and a burning crown adorned his head. Even his skin had changed. Gray and cracked, it looked like freshly cooled lava.

  When Amroth spoke, Rondel grimaced. His tone was hard and gravelly, not at all like the charismatic voice he’d once possessed. “Rondel, how good of you to save me the trouble of burning down the forest to find you.” He grinned. “I see you have the Liryometa again. That means Balear betrayed me after all. Where is the fool? I’ll kill him second, after you of course.”

  Ignoring him, Rondel pointed at the Karyozaki, glowing red in his right hand. “For shame, Amroth! Still hiding after all this time? Why don’t you put that silly sword in the hand it was meant for?”

  The king cackled maniacally. “So that’s your plan! Rondel, for someone so ancient, you certainly lack wisdom. Do you honestly think this army will desert me if it learns I’m a Maantec? Fear makes them follow me. Tell them I’m a Maantec! Tell them I’m a Left! Their fear will increase that much more, and they’ll fight all the harder to save themselves from my wrath!”

  Rondel scowled. “Nadav would weep if he saw how far his beloved Feng’s standards have fallen.”

  Amroth’s laughter turned to fury in an instant. “How dare you speak his name, murderous wench! I’ll have my revenge, and all the world will know Nadav’s rightness, his absolute truth that strength alone brings about peace.”

  Lightning Sight’s sparks cascaded across Rondel’s eyes. “You have no clue,” she said, her voice venomous, “about the meaning of strength.”

  Craning his neck, Amroth called over his shoulder, “Captain!” A young man stepped nervously forward wearing hastily and poorly crafted leather armor. Rondel felt heartened. Amroth’s army might have size, but it had no fight in it.

  “Send all troops into the forest,” the king ordered. “Kill everyone you encounter, man, woman, or child.”

  The soldier gulped, clearly unenthused by the order, but he saluted and departed rapidly. Amroth then turned back to Rondel, leering down at her. “You say I don’t know about strength? Why don’t you teach me, then?”

  Rondel allowed the faintest of smiles to cross her face. She’d hoped for this reaction. With her enhanced speed, she dashed to her left and called out, “Come on!”

  Flames engulfed the king, and he rocketed after her. His captain gave the signal, and the army resumed its march.

  Rondel zigzagged away from the main force, always keeping Amroth out of reach. When half a mile separated her from the army’s nearest flank, she stopped and caught her breath for a few precious seconds while Amroth shot toward her. The speed the fire granted the king astounded her. Although it didn’t match her own, the difference was less than she’d anticipated.

  Amroth stopped twenty feet from Rondel, flames licking around his feet. He held the Karyozaki aloft, now in his left hand.


  “One question,” Rondel said.

  “Of course,” he answered, dripping with false sincerity, “I’d hate for you to die unfulfilled.”

  “That Karyozaki isn’t Nadav’s. Where did you get it?”

  He clenched the sword. “I suppose you should know,” he replied in his harsh voice, “considering that everything I’ve done for the last thousand years has been because of you. That day in Serona, Nadav, the greatest Maantec in history, perished because of your treachery. I vowed then to get revenge on you and the cursed Kodamas who caused our Maantec Empire to fall. I retrieved Nadav’s Burning Ruby, but without its Ryokaiten, it had no power. For centuries afterward I traveled Raa, searching for anyone who knew the secrets of creating Ryokaiten. Desperate, I sought out the Yokai. Their magic can’t compare with ours, but they do have great skill in enchanting weapons. Their leader, the Oni Hezna, agreed to help me reforge the sword.” He snarled, “That beast betrayed me, though, and when we finally completed the Karyozaki, he took it and became the Dragon Knight instead of me!”

  “And a much finer knight he made,” Rondel sneered. “Unlike you, he had the sense not to trust Feng and only sparingly used the dragon’s magic. Amroth, do yourself and Lodia a favor. Throw away that sword! Neither you nor Hezna had a complete picture of what the Karyozaki was or how to forge it. Without the third kanji circle, Feng will consume you! It’s already begun; I see it in your face and hear it in your voice. I know you desire revenge against me, but I also know that, deep down, you truly want peace for Lodia. You’ll have neither if Feng takes over your body!”