Moroda

by L. L. McNeil

  From somewhere to his right, he heard the whinnying of frightened horses, and headed in that direction. If there was at least one horse, he had a chance of getting a higher vantage point. His heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing was thick and laboured in the smoke, but he persevered. When the air finally cleared, he saw one of the Imperial horses still tied to her post at the edge of the stables. Her reins had become tangled in splintered wood from part of the collapsed stable wall, and she had been unable to flee.

  ‘Easy, easy,’ he said, edging towards the animal. Her eyes were white and rolling, nostrils flaring as she had the scent of dragon, fire, smoke and fear bombarding her. Taking one of his daggers, Morgen cut away at the wood, untangling the reins and freeing the horse. Once loose, he held her reins tight as she tried to bolt. When she had calmed enough, he clambered on and steered her over the bridge and into the city of Niversai

  Morgen crossed the bridge slowly, trying to calm the horse with each hesitant step, when a gust of wind cleared some of the smoke from above him, and, for a brief moment, he had an unblocked view of the clear night sky. In that moment, Khanna raced overhead, barely visible with her grey hull and dark sails, partially alight, and Morgen reined in the horse, causing her to rear in terror.

  ‘Sshh,’ he muttered, eyes locked on the ship overhead. From somewhere above him, on the castle’s other side, the roar of the dragon echoed, and Morgen watched the great beast descend from the turret, open its vast bronze wings, and chase after the airship.

  ‘So it is true,’ he said aloud, shaking his head, and watching the dragon unleash another wave of flames onto the streets below as it followed the sky pirate’s ship. Morgen’s decision was made; he had to bring down the dragon.

  *

  ‘What? I cannot leave? My trading partner is on that airship! I must leave the city to help him!’ Palom roared.

  ‘You have too many weapons, it’s forbidden,’ the guard replied, coming up with a poor excuse to keep him within the city limits. Two other members of the guard stood side-by-side behind him, blocking the gate at the city’s west entrance. All around them, townsfolk screamed, trying to flee the flames and get away from the danger from above. Ash and ember littered the streets, kicked up by the chaos of fleeing citizens.

  ‘I am a trader, a weapon smith, it is my job!’ Palom tried, barging his way past the first guard to be held up by the pair in front of the heavy iron gates.

  ‘I don’t make the rules. I can’t let you leave so heavily armed,’ the second guard replied, holding out his arm across Palom’s chest, preventing him taking another step. ‘The city is currently trying to deal with the dragon, I’m sure your colleague will be safe. Leave it to the Imperial Guard, Ittallan,’ he added, widening his stance as a show of strength.

  ‘Apologies, we’re late,’ Moroda gasped, skidding to a halt at Palom’s side, Eryn only a few paces behind. ‘We’re travelling with him,’ she added. ‘The other weapons are for us, you see.’

  ‘With all three of us, we’re within the rules for those weapons. There’s no trouble,’ Eryn said, glancing at Palom with a wide smile. She tilted her head down ever so slightly; the faintest of nods.

  ‘But now we’re here, we need to go. We really should have left this afternoon, but we were held up with the races,’ Moroda said, her voice clear and direct. She hoped in the darkness of the night and with so much smoke in the air, the guards would not recognise her from that morning. Her upbringing had made her used to giving orders, and her tone made the guards hesitate.

  The three soldiers shared a look, flinching when the dragon roared from somewhere overhead. ‘Look, we need to sort this dragon out, with three of them it’s only a few weapons each,’ the third muttered to the other two. They each shrugged, knowing the dragon threat was more pressing than their traveller controls and laws on held weapons.

  ‘Alright. Just this one time,’ the first guard turned back to Palom and the girls. He turned the chain winch to raise the gate for the three of them.

  Without waiting for anything else to be said, Moroda and Eryn rushed through the open gate archway, with Palom following, a little bemused. They hurried down the wide walkway, until the trees just framed their path and they were well out of earshot of the guards.

  Palom stopped, and held onto the girl’s arms. ‘Wait, you…are who? What…?’

  ‘I’m sorry. We needed to get out of the city, and it looked like you did too. That was the quickest way we were going to get the guards to open the gates.’ Moroda said.

  ‘It is okay…I did not expect it,’ Palom shrugged, but he was immeasurably grateful.

  ‘We really do know someone on that ship,’ Eryn added, worried she and Moroda would be seen to be liars in front of a trader.

  ‘Yes, we need to try and catch up, but at the speed they’re going, we may be too late.’ Moroda looked towards the path which wound its way through the forest.

  Palom thought for a moment. He knew time was against them, and he did not like the idea of two young girls travelling through the night in rough territory. ‘For helping me leave the city, I will help us all catch up with the ship and my trading partner,’ he said, dropping his satchels of weapons on the ground with a heavy thud.

  ‘I am faster in my true form than we all are,’ he said, turning to the girls. ‘If you will hold the weapons, I will track the airship and we will catch them before the dragon can do any more harm.’

  Moroda and Eryn glanced at each other, both suddenly nervous and unsure of what they were getting themselves into.

  ‘Father had some Ittallan trading partners, didn’t he? In his trades from Val Sharis.’ Eryn said, trying to convince herself as much as Moroda, almost reassuring her he would be no threat to them.

  ‘We have no time to discuss; I will chase the airship. Will you come?’ Palom asked, pushing them for an answer.

  ‘Wait, we don’t even know your name yet,’ Moroda asked, trying to buy some time to think about the situation.

  ‘My name is Palom; a trader and weapon smith. On the ship is my trading partner, Anahrik.’ He was eager to be off—every moment delayed was a greater chance he would lose the ship and dragon.

  ‘I’m Eryn, and this is my sister, Moroda,’ Eryn said, before Moroda could shed more doubts on the arrangement. It was Moroda’s idea, after all, and Eryn knew they couldn’t back out now. ‘We will come with you, Palom.’

  ‘Good. Hold the weapons tightly, please,’ the Ittallan nodded, before closing his eyes and lifting his face to the stars. In a flash of burning light, his features elongated and fur sprouted through his skin and clothes as he transformed.

  The sisters took a step back, Moroda dropping to the floor to pick up one of the satchels, watching with a mixture of fascination and fear.

  In hardly a moment, a man no longer stood before them, but a tiger—eighteen feet long, nose to tail, with a broad chest and shoulders. Pressing his ears back, the tiger bared his canines and roared, before lowering his head and crouching down.

  ‘Oh dragons above, he means us to ride on his back,’ Moroda whispered.

  ‘I’m with you, Ro,’ Eryn reassured, rubbing her sister’s arm to offer some support. ‘Like you asked.’ She knelt down to pick up the other satchel, and both girls clambered on to the massive cat’s back, satchels of weapons and silver held securely between them.

  Once the two no longer shuffled about, Palom stood to his full height, and glanced around to gather his bearings. Ear twitching, the tiger glanced back at the western gate of Niversai, hearing hooves charging down the cobblestones.

  ‘It’s Morgen! He must be after us!’ Moroda cried out, recognising the rider as he hurtled down the path towards them. ‘Palom, we must go now, or we’ll be caught!’

  Hearing her words, Palom let out a low growl as he sprang forward, racing into the woods. Trees flashed by faster than either of the girls could blink, and tears came to their eyes almost instantly.

  Moroda chanced a look back, but eve
n the fastest of horses had no chance of keeping up with a tiger at full sprint, especially an Ittallan tiger. The relief she felt as she saw Morgen disappearing into the trees was palpable, and she found herself able to breathe easily once again.

  ‘Ro, look! Up there!’

  Moroda looked skywards at her sister’s words. As Palom cleared the last of the trees, farmer’s fields opened up wide in front of them, the horizon running as far as the eye could see. Up ahead, in the inky blackness of the night, Moroda could make out the silhouette of Khanna, illuminated every so often as the dragon flying close behind unleashed another plume of fire. But that was not what had caught her sister’s attention—it was a figure far closer to them. He was following the airship and the dragon, that much was for certain, and he was closer to them than his quarry.

  As the wind rippled through the air, the man’s heavy travelling cloak whipped around, away from his body. In the moonlight, the scars on his face were clear, and Moroda saw his misshapen lip as clearly as if he were stood right in front of her.

  ‘Ryn…that’s…he’s no Ittallan…’ Moroda breathed, her voice small amid the rush of the wind as Palom ran over open ground, trying to keep Khanna and the dragon in his sights. ‘He…’

  The scarred traveller rose with the wind, his arms and legs limp under him as he raised his creamy-brown feathered wings from underneath the cloak. A strong, cold wind picked up around him, ruffling his hair and sending his cloak in all directions.

  ‘That’s a…he’s an Arillian…’

  With one powerful beat of his wings, the traveller flew after the airship and the dragon, intent on slaying it.

  Chapter Six

  ‘There’s too much fire!’ Anahrik screamed, his voice almost lost in the rushing wind. Khanna was descending slowly, and trees rose all around them as they cleared the farmlands and open fields surrounding Niversai and approached the nearby Burian Forest.

  ‘Do what you can to keep it back, I’m gonna put her down somewhere or Khanna will be in shreds,’ Amarah cried back, desperately trying to control her shaking airship. She’d lost half a sail from the back while another was currently alight; Khanna began to drop violently, the wooden hull creaking.

  Sapora hunched low, arms protecting his face from the flames licking the deck, and shuffled over to Anahrik. ‘I’d prepare yourself for a fight, Ittallan.’

  Anahrik glared at him. ‘Palom does most of the fighting, and I don’t have any weapons.’

  ‘If I can get one, clean strike, that may bring it down,’ Sapora hissed, glaring at the dragon as it followed them through the darkness, and Anahrik narrowed his eyes at him. ‘Of course it might be immune,’ Sapora added.

  ‘Brace yourselves!’ Amarah called, as the airship lost its remaining lift and thundered to the ground, crashing into a large clearing, the surrounding trees bending in the shockwave. The lower leaves caught alight as sparks were sent forth from the hull as it splintered on impact.

  All three passengers covered their heads and dropped to their knees, and Khanna let out a mighty groan as wood splintered off the bottom of the hull. Amarah cringed at the noise, but focussed on the dragon that followed them.

  ‘You don’t have any weapons at all?’ Amarah shouted at Anahrik, who was still crouched and edging across to the side of the ship, waving away smoke from his face.

  ‘I didn’t pack them for our race, no,’ he growled back, looking up at the night sky for signs of the dragon. Thick, dark smoke rose slowly from the airship’s side and the surrounding foliage as they burned. The nettles which grew high and proud between the dew-covered trees were ignited from the explosion; they ringed the clearing and lit everything beneath the trees. The contrast made the night seem even darker, and none of them could see much over the tree line.

  Amarah clambered overboard, hurrying down the steps carved into the ship’s side. Sapora followed Khanna’s captain off the ship, leaping over the side and landing heavily on the soft earth.

  ‘The moss is still damp,’ Amarah stated, glancing at her hand. ‘Good thing it’s not dry, or we’d all be up in damned smoke.’

  ‘Where is the dragon?’ Sapora asked, looking up. ‘It was right behind us.’

  A sudden flash of lightning lit up the sky, leaving it bright as day for a few long seconds. It was accompanied by a gust of icy wind as the dragon came soaring into view, a large tear in one of its wings.

  ‘An Arillian?’ Sapora gasped, crouching down, and backing away from the clearing into the shelter of Khanna. Anahrik, who had not yet disembarked, dropped to one knee, only his head poking over the side of the ship to watch.

  They saw the dragon hurtle to the ground, a cloaked, scarred man holding onto its neck. Ignoring its roars, he managed to keep hold as they crashed into the clearing. Before the dragon could respond, the man raised his right hand to shoot another gust of freezing wind into the beast’s other wing. As the moving air caught the thin, leathery skin, it tore through the membrane as easily as a dagger through flesh.

  Roaring in pain, the dragon lashed out with its tail and thrashed its body, retaliating violently to the attack. As it brought its spiked tail round, the Arillian leapt into the air and opened his own wings. Avoiding the attack, he sent out another blast of freezing, razor sharp air, aiming for the dragon’s eyes and nose.

  ‘Should we help?’ Anahrik called down to Sapora and Amarah. But both were transfixed, watching the dragon and the Arillian fight each other from the shelter of the airship.

  The dragon was easily twenty-five feet long, not including its tail, which swung furiously at the Arillian. Its bronzed scales were blackened slightly from the flame and smoke it breathed, the spines along its back were brown, and darker close to the tail. For a creature so huge, it moved quickly; lunging and swiping with its tail, never still for a moment. With golden eyes tinged red, it watched the Arillian as he continued to avoid its lunges.

  ‘Didn’t think it’d be as much of a threat on the ground now,’ Anahrik said, though his words were again unacknowledged. He watched with the others and saw the dragon’s long, serpentine neck and powerful spiked tail, and swallowed hard. It was just as much of a force to be reckoned with while grounded. The creature’s spines along the length of its back and tail were vicious, the largest of them three feet long. And of course, it could still breathe fire.

  All three spectators ducked periodically to avoid wayward flames, branches blown around in the wind, and other debris sent flying from the fight.

  Despite the incredible weaponry and natural scale armour of the dragon, the Arillian did not seem at all fazed. He was fast enough to avoid teeth and claws, and had the ability to fly out of range of both flame and tail. Keeping up with his avoidance strategy, it did not take long before the fight began to tip in the Arillian’s favour; a combination of torn wings and light wounds on the dragon’s slightly softer underbelly began to weaken the beast. Its attacks soon came slower, without the fury from the start of the fight.

  The dragon lunged suddenly, faster and farther than before, causing the Arillian to dive out of the way, its teeth snapping shut just above his back.

  Cornered and unable to fly out of range, the Arillian flattened himself to the ground. Rolling onto his back, with the throat of the dragon just above him, he reached forward with both arms, gripped the hot scales, and sent forth all the strength he could muster.

  The ice which formed on the neck of the dragon shone a brilliant white-blue, freezing its chest and jaws. It grew slowly, encasing the hot scales and cooling them instantly, steam billowing from the contact.

  On the other side of the clearing, Palom skidded to a halt, having sprinted the last few minutes, terrified Anahrik would not have survived the crash. He, Moroda and Eryn had watched the flaming ship’s descent into the trees, and heard when it finally touched the ground. Moroda and Eryn clambered off the tiger, weapons still held safely between them, Palom letting out another roar to announce his arrival.

  ‘Palom!’ Anahrik crie
d, standing up to better see across the clearing.

  The dragon was on its side unable to move, its entire chest encased in ice. ‘It’s over, now,’ the Arillian sighed, standing beside the creature and shaking his head. The dragon attempted to lift its tail to attack, but did not have the strength to do so. The man raised his right hand and extended his fingers, summoning up another wave of ice and wind. A blade formed in his hand, made of solid ice and tapered to a sharp point. With one, swift strike, he sliced the dragon’s throat, silencing the roars.

  Trying to subdue his terrified horse, Morgen arrived behind Palom and the girls. He held on tightly as she reared up, but he was exhausted from the hard ride chasing the dragon; all strength in his fingers had left him, and he was unceremoniously thrown to the ground in her final act of fear and defiance.

  Palom, now in human form, grabbed two swords from his satchel and stalked into the clearing, tense and ready to react.

  ‘Palom, I didn’t realise you’d followed us all the way out here,’ Anahrik called, leaping over the side of the airship. Though he briefly glanced at the Arillian and the dead dragon, the young silversmith crossed the clearing confidently, making his way to Palom.

  ‘You were too busy with that,’ Palom said, looking at the dragon, now lying still after the final blow.

  It was a sombre moment for Moroda; her skin was still flushed from the chill of the wind in the race to the forest, her heart still pounding from the adrenaline and sudden fear from the dragon attack.

  Now that she looked at the dead beast, she felt nothing but sadness and pity for it. Never before had she seen a dragon act that way, even to egg thieves. Yes, they’d chase for a short while, then return to their lair. This one, though…this one had pursued them so doggedly, she had wondered whether they would ever catch up with the airship.