The Dragon's War

by Samantha Sabian

  “We have so enjoyed the tea and sweets that you sent,” Y’arren said, her voice drifting back. “Those sugared biscuits are divine…”

  Raine went to help Senta and Nerthus set up camp, which was hardly necessary because between the Tavinter and the wood elves, the Royal Guard and imperials were overwhelmed with assistance. Idonea joined Elyara and Dagna in front of one of the outdoor fire pits, and they fell to talking about old times. Once Nerthus was finished with her duties, she hovered about them.

  “Oh, for gods’ sake, join us,” Idonea said.

  “Thank you,” Nerthus said gruffly, and sat down. Dagna was fairly astonished at the change in Nerthus. The Knight Commander had been a cold, arrogant woman, insulting, particularly to mages whom she considered dangerous and possibly even immoral. She had looked down her nose at Dagna for being a bard and at Elyara for being both an elf and a mage. Raine she had looked at with disdain, thinking her nothing more than a mercenary. Once her eyes were opened, she was chagrined to learn that Raine was “the Raine” from the legend, and that both Elyara and Dagna had accompanied her on that epic quest to the Underworld. And when Nerthus met Idonea, a mage swirling with the dark magic she hated, she had fallen hard and everything had changed.

  Idonea turned back to Elyara. “So how is my master?”

  “He fades,” Elyara said sadly, “I think he was waiting to see Skye one last time.”

  Skye walked into Y’arren’s cave, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The Queen, High Priestess, and First Scholar sat around the fire pit, three stylish and graceful women perfectly at home in the rustic surroundings. The scene made Skye smile. Her eyes searched the room, but the hand on her sleeve gave away the location of what she was looking for. She turned to the frail, gray-bearded man, for the first time eye-to-eye as she had grown and he had shrunk. She had tears in her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

  “Now, now, my little sparrow,” he said, wiping the tears from her eyes, “let’s have none of that. Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s been a long time since I’ve been outside.”

  “Are you sure you should?” Skye asked. He was weak, fragile even, and she didn’t want to tire him out.

  “I will lean on you,” he said, and Y’arren watched the two go, not with sadness, but with a sense of the inevitable.

  Skye helped her great-grandfather carefully down the steps, and all the elves who passed nodded with deference. Idonea noted from a distance that Isleif was weaker than she had ever seen him.

  Still, his step was light as he moved through the trees, enjoying the sunlight with the love of his life. Out of all the things that he had accomplished in his long lifetime, the magical creature next to him was truly the best.

  “So,” Isleif said, “word has it that you have chosen to deal with Ingrid in a most unique manner.”

  Skye grinned and Isleif marveled at the change in her. The youngster he had handed over to the Ha’kan years ago would have blushed dark red and been speechless, unable to even stammer out a reply. Nor would she have ever decided on such a course of action.

  “I decided to handle it in the Ha’kan way, which I think caught her completely off-guard.”

  “I’m sure it did,” Isleif said, chuckling. He grew serious. “I regretted my actions with Ingrid. At first it was because I feared her retaliation on the ones that I loved. But later I felt a different responsibility. I feared I had created the dark creature that she had become.”

  The young woman shook her head. “People make their own choices. No one decides for them. Raine taught me that, that destiny is something you make, not something that is thrust upon you.”

  “Raine said that?” Isleif said thoughtfully.

  “She did,” Skye said. “Ingrid had many choices, and she chose a path of evil and revenge. Now maybe she can choose a different path.”

  “She’s always going to be wicked,” Isleif warned.

  “I know that,” Skye said, the grin returning. “I don’t mind it so much in certain circumstances.”

  “Oh, by the gods, you are so much like me sometimes,” the wizard said, and the two walked arm-in-arm through the forest.

  It was late in the evening and most of the camp had gone to bed. Raine stood at the top of the stairs, leaning against a pillar, staring out at the horizon lost in thought.

  “And are you hiding from me?”

  “Of course not,” Raine said, acknowledging Y’arren’s presence, affection in her tone. “You were very busy with the Ha’kan and the imperials. It is not often the wood elves host a head of state.”

  “The Ha’kan are a most gracious and elegant people,” Y’arren said, “the imperials?” She shrugged her shoulders and made a dismissive noise. “They are growing on me.”

  Raine let out a deep breath, almost a sigh, and Y’arren looked at her shrewdly.

  “You hide your mood from the others, but you cannot hide it from me.”

  “I know that,” Raine said. “I feel—”

  She paused, looking for words that would explain the oppressive weight she had felt for weeks.

  “I feel like events are closing in on me. Like time is running out.”

  “The prophecy will be fulfilled,” Y’arren said.

  “But it’s so obscure,” Raine said, “And we still don’t know the final line.”

  “The Dragon’s Lover, felled by the closest of allies, carries into death without dying that which saves all worlds,” Y’arren quoted. “I think the ‘saves all worlds’ is what you should hold close.”

  “I saw the white dragon again,” Raine said. “She told me that this prophecy was given to Hel.”

  This sobered Y’arren. This she had not known.

  “You saw the white dragon again?”

  “I did. She came to me in the forest. She told me that Hel knows the final line.”

  Y’arren considered this, and all its implications. She could see into the future, but the future was always unclear.

  “Tell me what you see,” Raine said urgently, placing her hands on her godmother’s shoulders.

  “Your time is near,” Y’arren said, her green eyes glowing in the night. “And you will go into the darkness. I cannot see to the end of it, but I know that your victory hinges on embracing what you think is your greatest weakness.”

  Raine’s jaw clenched, for she knew exactly what Y’arren was talking about, and the matriarch confirmed it.

  “It is the gifts of your mother’s people that will decide your fate.”

  The troop spent another day and night in the wood elf encampment, but soon it was time to leave. The parting was poignant, especially the farewells to Isleif. Raine embraced the wizard she had known for over a century, and he planted a kiss as a blessing on her forehead. Idonea had to brush away a tear as she said farewell to her master of two decades, grateful that she had been able to spend this last time with him. And when Skye hugged her great-grandfather, many openly sobbed. But Skye, with the resolve the Tavinter were known for, squared her shoulders, and only the shininess of her eyes betrayed the tears that were held there.

  “You’ve made me so proud, little sparrow. Continue your training with Idonea. I left her much instruction for you.”

  Skye nodded, swallowing hard. “And that one,” he said, indicating Raine, “you follow that one wherever she goes, even through the Gates of Hel itself.”

  “I will,” Skye promised.

  Just then, a hot wind blew through the trees and leaves scattered as a colossal red dragon swooped low over the tree-tops. The massive creature let out a deafening roar, scattering animals in the underbrush, a farewell from the Queen of all Dragons to the greatest wizard that Arianthem had ever known. Isleif waved his staff at the tribute, and the dragon wheeled about and disappeared over the horizon.

  Hearts were heavy as the band set out, and both Raine and Skye remained on foot, silently trodding next to one another. There were murmured snippets of conversation but, by and large, the group
was quiet. Finally, Raine could bear the oppressive mood no more.

  “Do you see that rock up there, the one beyond the tree line?” Raine asked.

  Skye squinted off in the distance. “Yes, I see it.”

  “I’ll race you to it.

  Chapter 10

  The land began to change. To the north, Mount Alfheim rose up out of the mists in all of its glory. To the east, the Deep Woods fell away. To the south, the bulk of the empire stretched out. But to the west was a barren land, one that was as forbidding as its name. Raine sat upon the black stallion that had been Talan’s steed and gazed out at the vast desert

  “So this is the Empty Land,” Senta said.

  “Yes. It’s a land of nothingness, and almost nothing survives in it. Insects, scarabs, a few snakes, but little else.”

  “And you crossed over this land?” Nerthus said.

  “Yes,” Raine replied, “and Idonea, Dagna, and Elyara were with me. As was Feyden, the brother of Maeva, and Lorifal of the dwarves. And Bristol, of course. There was another with us, Gunther, but he passed away not long ago. He never recovered from the touch of the Membrane.”

  “That was the creature that touched you,” Senta said, “that monster that was in the castle courtyard when you rescued us from the Reapers.”

  “Yes,” Raine said, the muscle in her jaw working. The Membrane was an abomination created by Hel, a fusion of mouths, limbs, breasts, and sexual organs of those cursed by the Goddess of Death. The monstrosity perpetually pleasured itself and was in a constant, painful orgasm. It had a particular affinity for Raine. “On our quest, it touched Idonea as well.”

  Idonea came up beside Raine, the sight of the bleak landscape evoking memories in her, also. “You saved me. You drew it away by revealing your eyes. That was the first time that Hel saw you.”

  There was a trace of self-recrimination in Idonea’s voice, a kind of tacit recognition that Hel had discovered Raine because of her.

  “I’m guessing Hel would have found me sooner or later,” Raine said, dismissing Idonea’s guilt, “given her past relationship with your mother.”

  “And what is beyond the Empty Land?” Gimle asked, deeply interested.

  “The Veil,” Raine replied. “The Empty Land drops off at The Edge of the World, cliffs so high you cannot see the bottom. And when you work your way down, you go into the Veil.”

  “What is the Veil like?” Skye asked, and Elyara shivered.

  “It’s a horrible place,” Raine said. “The miasma that separates the mortal realm from the Underworld. It’s full of demons and wraiths, strange plants that can attack you, and many, many Reapers.”

  “It felt like it took us years to get through it,” Dagna said.

  “Indeed,” Raine said, also lost in the recollection. “And once through, it only gets worse. Then you come upon the first set of Gates, which lead into the red and black courtyard, which seems to stretch on forever. And then you come to the Gates of Hel themselves.”

  “They were enormous,” Idonea recalled. “With Hel’s visage on them.”

  “And they were being held open by the Scales of Light and Dark,” Elyara added.

  “Yes, which my love destroyed,” Raine said.

  The Ha’kan were all holding their breaths as the women recounted the tale they had heard a thousand times, yet never quite like this.

  “And then you killed the dragon, Ragnar,” Skye prompted, for she had read the poem at the Sjöfn Academy and committed it to memory.

  “Yes,” Raine said a wry grin on her face. “He was going to take Idonea’s soul and thought me easy prey, right up until he realized I was a Scinterian. I reminded him that the Scinterians were dragon slayers long before they became the dragons’ allies.”

  “That was probably the best moment of all,” Dagna said.

  “The look on his face….” Elyara agreed.

  The four were silent for a moment.

  “And then we closed the gate,” Raine said, as if it were no matter, “and we did not see the Hyr’rok’kin again for almost two decades.”

  “Raine,” Skye said uncertainly, “what is that?”

  Skye’s tone of voice caught Raine’s attention and she looked out across the Empty Land. “It looks like dust,” she said, frowning. There shouldn’t be anything in the Empty Land to kick up dust. She signaled her raptor in the sky, and the great hawk set out across the desert. A shadow fell over them as something blocked out the sun. The red dragon, which was never far from them, had also seen the cloud of dust. Talan was not far behind the hawk, flying to inspect the disturbance.

  All sat tensely in their saddles, awaiting report. The dust cloud, although still very far away, was getting larger.

  “Talan won’t engage by herself, will she?” Senta asked.

  “No,” Raine said, “she would have picked me up if she meant to fight. She’s just scouting right now.”

  Raine’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying intensity that Senta recognized. She was preparing for battle.

  “Knight Commander? Do you have any troops stationed near here?”

  Nerthus rode up abreast of Raine. “We have garrisons all along the Empty Land. But they are sparsely staffed, more of sentry stations with light defensive capabilities.”

  “Do you think those are Hyr’rok’kin?” Senta asked.

  “I do,” Raine replied. “The desert plays tricks with the eyes, but they are still some ways off. We have a few hours. Send some of your troops to the nearest strongholds,” she said, directing Nerthus, “have them bring back anyone they can.” With a wave, Nerthus dispatched the soldiers who rode off at breakneck speed. “How many of the Royal Guard are here?” Raine asked.

  “Just over fifty,” Senta said.

  “You would stand with us? Fight on imperial soil?” Nerthus asked.

  “Of course we would,” the Queen said, riding up. “My First General and my Battle Mage,” she said with a nod to Gimle, “are at your disposal.” She looked down at her gown. “I am going to go change.”

  Raine mentally calculated the distance and the size of the approaching force and looked around her. Sixty or so of the Ha’kan, the same number of imperials.

  “Skye, how many of your people are here?”

  Skye signaled into the air for general assembly, and Tavinter began appearing everywhere. Despite the lack of cover, they still had managed to travel almost undetected.

  “We are about thirty in number,” Aeric said, having been close enough to hear Raine.

  “Good,” Raine said.

  “Raine,” Senta said uncertainly, “I can’t judge this distance as well as you, but that force must be in the thousands.”

  “Yes,” Raine said, “and maybe in the tens of thousands. This is the largest force I’ve seen since we shut the gates.”

  “Do you think we can stand against such numbers?”

  “I’ve seen these odds before,” Raine said, “and we were but eight. Three of those that stood with me then are here with me now.”

  Idonea, Dagna, and Elyara stared resolutely out at the approaching horde. They had been here before, led into an impossible battle, hopelessly outnumbered. Yet they had been led into battle by a Scinterian who lived and breathed to fight, the same one who stood before them now.

  “Gimle,” Raine ordered, “your strength is your wards. Begin preparing defensive capabilities against arrows, spears, any projectiles. Idonea,” she said to the raven-haired mage, “I’m going to need you and Elyara to use your imagination.”

  “This is going to be fun,” Idonea said, and Skye marveled at her cool demeanor. Skye did not fear battle: she had spent three years at war and the Tavinter had been greatly outnumbered. But she had faced the Ha’kan, not Hyr’rok’kin, and she did not think the Hyr’rok’kin would exhibit the same restraint as her former enemy. No, this would be a fight to the death.

  “Idonea,” Raine began, “didn’t your mother say she had a sentry over the Empty Land?”


  “She did.”

  “Well, I wonder what happened to it,” Raine said with the beginnings of concern. Talan had been gone for some time, and although the distance was vast, the dragon could have covered it by now. She shielded her eyes, frustrated that she could not see. A speck was approaching, and Raine viewed its approach with hope. But it was too small to be a dragon.

  The huge raptor swept down and landed in front of Raine. The bird was so large it stood nearly taller than Raine. Its wing was bloodied and feathers were torn near the wound.

  “You’re hurt!” Raine exclaimed.

  Elyara came over and pressed her hand to the wound while the bird communicated with a series of screeches and flaps with its good wing. Raine listened intently, her expression darkening.

  “There is some type of winged Hyr’rok’kin,” she said, “something I’ve not seen or heard of before.” She turned to Idonea. “Talan is in trouble.”

  With two steps, Raine reached the huge black stallion and leaped upon its back. The horse reared and tossed its head as Raine spun it around. “Stay here!” she cried.

  Many started to mount their horses to follow her, but Idonea held up her hand, restraining them with a spell.

  “She will bring Talan back,” Idonea said firmly. “Stand fast.”

  Skye chafed at the restraint. “She’ll never get there in time! I wish we had another dragon.”

  “We do,” Idonea said calmly.

  And as Raine rode out, leaning low on the horse’s back, the legs of the horse churning and the hooves flashing, they continued to gain speed. The horse was traveling at an impossible pace, the black flanks heaving, and somehow still gaining velocity. Then, with a brilliant flash of red light, the beast dissolved and Raine was no longer on a horse, but was riding a dragon. The black dragon skimmed low to the ground, then with two great thrusts of his wings he went airborne, high into the sky where he caught a thermal updraft and shot even more skyward.

  “Drakar was with us the whole time?” Skye asked.