A Legacy of Light (The Dragon War, Book 1)

by Daniel Arenson

  It was his turn to raise his hands in frustration. "Me? Merciful stars, Kaelyn, your sister didn't even know I existed until you sneaked into my tavern. Why did you drag me into this?" He shook his head as he paced. "That's it. I have to turn you in. No other choice. I'll fly to Shari, and explain that this was all a mistake, and—"

  "And she would break your every bone, and flay your skin, and disembowel you alive, and laugh as you scream and beg," Kaelyn said. "I've seen her do it to others. Rune, come here. Sit down beside me. I have some things to tell you. You'll want to sit down for them."

  She wriggled sideways on the chest, making room for him. He glowered down at her, but she only looked up with large, sad eyes, all their mockery and anger gone. Suddenly Rune again realized how beautiful she was, and stars damn it, he was a young man, and a beautiful woman still muddled his mind and dissipated his anger. With a sigh, he sat down beside her.

  "Well, it's about damn time you told me what's going on here," he said. "So talk. I'm listening."

  She placed a hand on his knee and looked at him softly. Her fingers were slim and warm; her eyes were warmer.

  "Rune," she said, "do you know how my father came into power?"

  He nodded. "Of course I do. We had to sing his songs every harvest fair. Requiem was weak in the old days; the Aeternum Dynasty had weakened it. Griffins ravaged our kingdom. Phoenixes burned us. Desert warriors rode wyverns to shatter our halls. We were hunted, afraid, dying. And then… Frey Cadigus flew to the capital, a great general leading a host of loyal dragons. They took the throne. They cast aside the weakness of the old dynasty. They hunted and slaughtered the griffins, the phoenixes, and all those who had hurt us. They turned Requiem from a frightened, crumbling kingdom into an empire. Requiem is strong now; Frey Cadigus made her strong." Rune's lips twisted into a grimace. "At least, that's what they taught me as a boy. That's what they forced us to sing. If you ask me, your father is a right bastard."

  "That," she said, "he most certainly is. And yes, I too heard the stories of how weak the Aeternum Dynasty was. I grew up hearing horrible stories, Rune. My father would relish in telling them. Stories about how the griffins tore apart our children, spilling entrails and blood; how phoenixes burned our people so that their skin peeled and they ran flaming; how wyverns invaded from the south, how their acid melted flesh and left us deformed and forever screaming." Kaelyn sighed. "Those stories might be true; they are written in books from before my father's rule. But those books grieved for our fallen, for all the wars we fought. My father did not grieve; he raged. He blamed the Aeternum Dynasty for weakening Requiem, for allowing our enemies to kill us. He would mock the old dynasty's compassion and righteousness, spitting out those words like insults. He told me that he delighted in killing them. He told me how he slaughtered the old Aeternum king, his wife, and his children. When telling these stories, his eyes would light up, and he would lick his lips, and he seemed almost in rapture."

  Rune nodded. "Like I said—right bastard. But I know all this. Stars, Kaelyn, the whole empire knows that the Cadigus family hated the Aeternums, that they are… how does Frey put it?" Rune puffed out his chest and spoke in a deep, bombastic voice, imitating the speeches he had heard soldiers delivering at Cadport. "We are strong now. We will never fall. We are mighty and powerful and no enemies will threaten us again, and any weakness within us must be crushed." He rolled his eyes. "I've never met your father, but stars, every soldier of his I've seen repeats the same thing. An army of parrots, he has."

  "Deadly parrots," Kaelyn said. "Big ones who can blow fire." She smiled and lowered her head. Her hand still held his knee. "Rune, you said I don't look like my sister; that is true. Did you ever wonder why you don't look like Wil Brewer, the man you called father?"

  Rune had smiled at her jest about fire-breathing parrots; now his smile vanished, and pain twisted his chest. My father. Again Rune saw it: Shari rising from the burning Old Wheel, clutching the charred corpse in her claws. She killed him. She killed my father. He clenched his fists and tears burned in his eyes.

  All his life—gone. His kindly father. His home. His books. All burnt and gone. He wondered if his dog, at least, had fled the flames; yet even if Scraggles had escaped, would Rune ever see his pet again?

  Everything is burnt, he thought and a lump filled his throat. Everything is lost.

  "Oh, Rune," Kaelyn said, voice soft. "I'm sorry. Truly I am. I didn't mean to… I…" She touched his hair. "I know this is painful. I know this is confusing. But hear me now. There will be time to mourn, but first you must hear everything I say."

  He looked at her, silent. His eyes stung, and tears blurred his vision. He nodded, unable to talk.

  "Rune," she continued, "this is going to be hard to accept. You might not believe me, but you must hear this. When my father took over the throne, he slaughtered the Aeternum family, every last one—the king, the queen, the princes, the lords and ladies… all but one Aeternum. All but the babe of the family. All but you."

  Rune rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I had a feeling you were going to say that." He gave her a sidelong glance. "And damn it, you didn't disappoint. Yes, I've heard of this missing Aeternum babe. I realize he vanished around the time I myself was a baby. Stars, Kaelyn, every boy in Cadport my age was mocked for being the missing Aeternum."

  Kaelyn's eyes narrowed and flashed. "Well, he really is you. Your true name is Relesar Aeternum, son of Ardin, heir of a dynasty four thousand years old. My father hates you—he hates you more than all the griffins and phoenixes that ever flew. He's been hunting you for seventeen years now, since I myself was only a babe. Why do you think Shari showed up in your city?"

  "To enlist recruits? To behead a girl and terrify us into obedience? Because she likes the seaside air and the mild southern winters?"

  "Because she was looking for you." Kaelyn jabbed him sharply in the arm. "You look like your father, the old king. Damn it, you're the spitting image. I've seen the man's paintings. People noticed. Soldiers noticed. You have the same dark hair, the same gray eyes, the same straight nose…"

  "Kaelyn, that describes about a million people in Requiem!" He laughed. "So the old king Aeternun had brown hair and gray eyes—stars above, that proves it!"

  Kaelyn looked at her feet; she twisted them uncomfortably. "Well, I… might have had something to do with Shari showing up. We've known about you all your life, Rune. Our leader, Valien, is the one who placed you at the Old Wheel Tavern; you were only a few moons old. Since then, the Resistance has been watching you. We'd visit the tavern. We'd drink your ale. We'd make sure you were safe, that the Cadigus family hadn't found you. And, well…" Kaelyn bit her lip. "I'm sorry, but we grew careless. Shari's soldiers saw our movements. They knew we were visiting Cadport. They followed me one day to the Old Wheel, and they saw you there, and they put two and two together." She looked back at him, her eyes rimmed with red. "I had to look after you, Rune. I had to. You understand, right?"

  For the first time, Rune realized where he had seen Kaelyn before. Of course!

  The young, demure priestess had visited the Old Wheel the last two winters, claiming to be on a pilgrimage to Ralora Cliffs, the place where Requiem had fought a battle hundreds of years ago. The priestess would wear a headdress, heavy robes, and a hood, but Rune remembered her large, hazel eyes.

  Kaelyn's eyes.

  He rose to his feet so suddenly he nearly knocked the chest—and Kaelyn—over. He rushed toward a wall, grabbed a sword that hung there, and sliced the air. His jaw clenched and anger constricted his throat.

  "Shari followed you!" he said, staring at Kaelyn with burning eyes. "I knew it. I knew it! And now my father is dead, and I'm stuck in this hole, and if they catch me, I'm dead too. And… stars, Kaelyn, how could you…"

  He let his sword drop; it thumped against the ground. He fell to his knees beside it, covered his eyes, and felt Kaelyn's hands in his hair.

  "I'm sorry," she whispered. She knelt before him and embraced him
. "I'm so sorry—for everything. But you're safe now."

  He lowered his hands and stared at her. Her face was inches from his, soft with concern.

  "Am I, Kaelyn? Am I safe?"

  "Safer than you were." She touched his cheek. "Believe that, at least. You are safer here."

  He let out a long, shaky sigh. He felt too weak to stand up again, to ever leave this hole.

  "What now?" he said and lowered his head.

  "I will take you to see Valien, our leader. He has known you all your life; he smuggled you out of the palace when my father killed your parents." She nodded. "He is wise, the wisest man I know. He'll know what to do next."

  "Valien Eleison," Rune whispered.

  Like everyone in the empire, he had heard of Valien—the disgraced knight turned resistor, the silver dragon with one horn. Some called him a hero. Others called him a brute, a drunkard and thief and murderer. And some, Rune knew, said that Valien Eleison himself was the man who slew Tilla's brother.

  And I will meet him, Rune thought and swallowed. I will meet the man who crushed my best friend's soul.

  Kaelyn nodded. "But for now, eat and drink something. There is food and wine here. It will be a long journey, and you'll need your strength." She looked at the fallen blade. "And you'll need that sword."

  "I thought you said I wouldn't know how to use one."

  Though her eyes were still damp, Kaelyn managed to flash a grin. "You wouldn't, but I'd like a spare, and I'm not carrying two." She stood up, grabbed an apple from a shelf, and tossed it toward him. "Eat this. And kick your boots off. We're staying the night. You're stuck with me in this hole for a while longer."

  On any other night, being stuck in a burrow with a beautiful woman—overnight, too!—would have made Rune feel like the luckiest man in Requiem. Today the apple tasted stale, and he missed home, and he missed Tilla and his father.

  When his apple was eaten, he lay down by a wall, and Kaelyn lay beside him. She covered herself with her cloak and placed her cheek upon her palm.

  "Goodnight, Rune," she said.

  "You're not going to stab me in the middle of the night, are you?" He rubbed his side. "Your dagger nicked me back there."

  She grinned again, a grin that showed all her teeth. "No, but I do kick when I sleep." She gave him a mock kick. "You're safe from Shari's fire, but no promises that I won't kick you to death."

  "Fair enough." He closed his eyes. "Goodnight, Kaelyn."

  Goodnight, Tilla, he added silently, wondering where she was now, and whether she too had a dry, safe place to sleep.

  Goodnight, Father, he thought. He wondered if the old man's soul had risen to the starlit halls of afterlife… and how crazy Kaelyn was for claiming Wil Brewer hadn't been his father at all.

  SHARI

  She flew back toward Cadport, shrieking and blowing fire. Her blood pounded in her ears. Her wings beat, bending trees below. Six of her warriors flew around her, metallic dragons blasting fire and howling.

  The boy escaped.

  Shari screeched and streamed above the city walls.

  This backwater will pay.

  "I seek Rune Brewer!" Shari screamed to city. She flew above the streets and homes, smoke streaming behind her. "You let the boy escape."

  She swooped, reached out her claws, and slashed at a home. Its clay walls collapsed, and the family inside wailed. Shari rose higher, breathing fire.

  "You will bring me the boy!" she cried. "You will bring him to me, or this city will burn."

  She dived over a square and blew fire at another home. Its roof burst into flame. The family inside screamed and fled into the street.

  Shari snarled, rage pounding through her. This foul southern city was conniving against her. This was a hive of resistors; she knew it. How else could Kaelyn have smuggled the boy out?

  She turned to look at her warriors, six iron dragons who flew behind her.

  "Each of you," she said, "grab two of this city's vermin. I don't care who. I don't care how young they are. Grab a dozen of these filthy maggots and break them upon a dozen wheels."

  The six dragons blasted fire, grinned toothily, and swooped.

  Claws slammed into homes. Walls collapsed and people ran through the streets, wailing.

  Shari beat her wings, flew toward the hill above the boardwalk, and circled around Castellum Acta, citadel of this city. She screeched orders, voice pealing across the sky. A hundred soldiers streamed out of the craggy fortress, shifted into dragons, and streamed above the streets. The city shook and jets of fire crisscrossed the sky. Homes burned.

  "Raise twelve wheels!" Shari howled, wings beating back flames across the city. Smoke filled her throat, and she roared hoarsely. "Raise them outside the courthouse!"

  As thousands wailed and fled across the city, her soldiers dragged twelve wagon wheels into the city square, that same square where Shari had spoken to the recruits. Dragons dived and grabbed people from the streets—men, women, and children.

  "Break their bodies!" Shari shouted, flying above.

  Her six dragons returned and rallied around her. Each clutched two people, one in each claw. They dived, tossed the people onto the square, and pinned them down. Soldiers streamed from alleyways to form a ring around the plaza.

  Shari landed upon the cobblestones and blasted fire skyward. She roared so the entire city could hear.

  "Break them!" she cried. "Shatter their bones and hang them here. I want the city to hear them scream!"

  The twelve, selected randomly from the thousands, squirmed and tried to flee, but they could not escape the claws that pinned them down. One of them, a young man with wide eyes, tried to shift into a dragon, to break the law of Cadigus. Scales began to appear across his body, but the dragon above him, one of Shari's soldiers, pressed his claws down. The young man below wailed and his magic left him.

  "Break them! Bring hammers!"

  Soldiers walked forward in human form, clad in black armor and bearing great hammers. The dozen townsfolk wailed, trapped under the claws.

  "Please!" one begged, a young girl no older than ten. "Please…"

  Another wailed, an old woman with white hair. "Please, my princess, have mercy—"

  The hammers swung.

  Bones snapped.

  The dozen screamed.

  Shari stood, snarling and snorting smoke, and laughed.

  The hammers swung again. Again. Snapping limbs. Snapping spines. Shari laughed.

  "Sling them onto the wheels!" she commanded.

  The soldiers dragged the wailing, broken bodies onto the wagon wheels, slung limbs between spokes, and tied the dozen down.

  "Hang them on the courthouse balcony!" she commanded, laughing and blasting smoke.

  Her soldiers laughed too. Ropes were slung over the balcony, and Shari smiled; had she not met the ropermaker's daughter at this very place?

  The wheels were raised to dangle off the balcony like bloodied wind chimes. Upon each one, a shattered body twitched and wept. Shari stood in the square, still in dragon form. She was tempted to blow her fire, to roast these wailing bodies and taste their flesh. But no, she thought. No. She would let them linger here. She would let them scream a while longer.

  She flapped her wings and rose high above the square. The city rolled around her. From up here, she could see Castellum Acta upon the hill, the boardwalk lined with rotting shops, the docks that stretched into the sea, and the abandoned lighthouse upon the breakwater. In the north, beyond the city walls, stretched the forest where the boy had fled.

  Shari roared her cry, making sure every soul in Cadport heard.

  "I seek Rune Brewer!" she shouted. "You let him flee this city. This is your punishment. These bodies will hang until they rot!" She blew fire down at homes, torching roofs. "You will bring me information about the boy. You will tell me where he fled. Or next moon, I will break a hundred bodies, then a thousand, then ten thousand, until none are left alive." She screamed so loudly her eardrums thrummed. "You wi
ll bring me Rune Brewer or you will die!"

  People streamed into the square below her, weeping and wailing and reaching out to those dying upon the wheels. They were the families of the broken, Shari realized, and her grin widened.

  Good, she thought. Let them see their beloveds suffer. This city sheltered an Aeternum. She shrieked and blasted fire. They will suffer greatly until he's mine.

  She spun and flew away. Once she had crossed the city walls and flew over the forest, a chill claimed her belly, overpowering the fire of her rage.

  She had told her father she would return the boy.

  She had vowed to drag Relesar Aeternum back to the capital, he a broken wretch and she a glorious ruler. She had promised her father this gift within the moon.

  Frey Cadigus, she knew, was not one to take disappointment well.

  She howled, thrashed her tail, and blasted fire.

  "You will pay for this, Kaelyn!" she roared. "I will break you too, and I will break the boy, and I will break this city, and the world itself will weep until Relesar is mine."

  With fire and roars, Shari flew north, heading to the capital, to her father… and to the rage of an empire.

  LERESY

  He flew on the wind, a red dragon snorting fire, and licked his maw. He saw it below, rising glorious from the forest.

  "My birthday present," he hissed, and smoke curled from between his teeth. "It's mine. My own."

  He was eighteen today, a grown man, and his first fortress—the first of many he would command—shone below. Obsidian tiles covered its limestone foundations, reflecting the winter sun. Its four corner towers rose like skulls upon scraggly necks, their tops snowy. Their banners flapped in the wind, hiding and revealing the red spiral, sigil of his house. A fifth tower rose above the grand hall, twice as tall as the others. Upon it ticked a great clock, its four dials as large as dragons, the hands shaped as blades.

  "Castra Luna," whispered the red dragon. "The oldest standing fortress in Requiem. My birthright."