Home at Last

by Alex Sapegin

  Tantre. Southern Rocky Ridge.

  The abandoned monastery of Hel…

  All day long Jagirra felt out of place. Exhausted by incomprehensible expectation and anxiety, she measured the central square of the former monastery. Gradually, the inner state of the crystal dragoness was transmitted to all the inhabitants of the secret shelter hidden in the Southern Rocky Ridge. Humans, dwarfs, orcs, elves, and dragons followed the nervous lady anxiously. Even the ever-wandering children came under it. The dragonlings, Rary and Rury, refused to roll the rest of the barefoot guard on their backs and, whispering something to Tyigu, retired to the top platform. The little orc became very friendly with the winged babies. The strange trinity had its secrets, they utilized many children’s pranks and tomfoolery, which drove the whole monastery crazy. Neither Lanirra’s exhortations, nor Jagirra’s terrible reprimands, nor Gray’s heartfelt conversations had any effect on the mischievous children. Only Ilnyrgu the Wolf, the formidable warrior from the people of the white orcs, had some sort of influence over her restless ward. Tyigu was not without reason to fear her mentor. The threat of her taking away the training sword forced her to restrain her temperament for a while.

  The fidgety trio settled in the thick shadow of the branchy and leafy chestnut trees growing on the upper square, watching Jagirra from there. The Empress often changed her hypostasis. Changing into an elf, she would then freeze in place, rub her left shoulder, sometimes baring it, and look at the tattoo and up at the sky[S16]. The children tried to trace the elf’s line of sight; the dragonlings and Tyigu vigilantly examined the blue sky, but nothing was found there other than solitary birds occasionally passing by.

  Tyigu was the one to put forth the first suggestion that the Mistress was acting strangely. Oddly enough, her idea was closest to the right one. Jagirra felt constant itching on her left shoulder for several days. She preferred to keep silent about the reasons for this, but everyone knew that the tattoo was not as simple as some people think. The golden dragon, surrounded by a lace of runes, was a magical beacon and a messenger. Rury somehow overheard a conversation between his mother and Gray, wherein the ancient dragon told Lanirra about the dragon empire. He said the tattoo on the Mistress’ shoulder was exactly the same as the imperial emblem. It was a totem—the keeper of the ruling family. After listening to gossip and idle speculation, Tyigu made the assumption that Jagirra’s[S17] and Kerr’s tattoos were magically related and that the Mistress could feel her son through the connection. The dragonlings agreed with the girl and offered to arrange a cot on the upper square where they could get a good view; more tension made the adults nervous and jerky. It was better to stay out of the way and hide from their eyes, rather than risking getting punished. If Tyigu was right, then something was happening to Kerr. Maybe he’d found a way to return from Nelita?

  Jagirra stopped rushing about like she was walking on hot coals. Glancing at Karegar, who was lying in the shadow of the dungeon and portraying an island of tranquility, she approached him and lay down beside him.

  “Explain to me what’s bothering you,” the dragon said in a low voice, covering her with his wing.

  “He’s back,” Jagirra blurted out.

  “Well, because of that, you’re out of sorts?”

  “I don’t feel where he is. Kerr is here on Ilanta, the totem can’t be wrong, but I can’t determine the direction.”

  “And did it occur to you that our son learned to block the magic of his tattoo? If he returned home, that means he managed to survive over there and somehow learned to hide from your uncle. As far as I know, the magic of the family totem reacts only to a related relationship, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, but why is he covering himself now?”

  “Why? We ought to think logically about that question and start off with the fact that Kerr first flew to the valley and found just-cooled ash in our home.”

  “Miduel claimed he would leave observers in the valley.”

  “He probably did, but did they notice Kerr? I still blame myself for allowing them to persuade me to leave the house and fly to this old monastery. Yes, we’re safe here; yes, Kerr filled the stones with mana.” Karegar jerked the tips of his wings, “And the stupid humans couldn’t think of anything better than collecting the fragments of the statue. They don’t understand that the magic absorbed into the walls of the temple and ‘fed’ mana to the square. Here we’re truly inaccessible, but…”

  “Don’t blame yourself…” The dragon was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t want to get dragged into a war. If the Ariates found our valley, they would turn us into a banner, and I don’t want to be a symbol for which people voluntarily go to the slaughterhouse.”

  “They dream of bringing the dragons back to Ilanta.”

  “I know, I also dream of that, but not at that price.” Jagirra closed her eyes. The memory of the old Larga’s letter came to mind. Enira predicted the return of the Lords of the Sky and great wars. The stone that provoked the avalanche of deaths was Kerr. “Enira wrote about wars, but I don’t want our boy taking part in them.”

  “You can’t hide him under your wing forever. He wouldn’t allow it. Remember him as a dragonling if you want; imagine him as a chick. Nothing could stop his stubbornness and purposefulness. Kerr always had a personal opinion on everything, and how did he relate to attempts to pressure him? I remember the royal menagerie in Rimm and still shudder at the fierce gleam in his eyes. You know, he would have killed himself rather than allow himself to be captured alive for a second time.

  “Sometimes I think we don’t know our son at all. He grew up too quickly, and if you recall his meager stories about that world, you can easily come to the opinion that the boy never had a real childhood.” Karegar removed his wing and turned to the temple. “Kerr’s first days in our world were connected with a cage. His teacher was an old shaman, followed by a conscious killing of people and a desire to take revenge. He wasn’t a child or a chick in the sense that we mean when we think about these words. Merging with the mind of Alo Troi further distanced him from ordinary people, and from children even more so. To some extent, childhood returned to our boy when he got wings, but I’d be afraid to call the incarnation a pleasant childhood memory.

  “We don’t know anything about what happened at the Orten School of Magic. The rest we know from the words of his companions, and they hide a lot; Kerr bound them with magical vows. War, murders, blood, the destroyed temple of Hel, and the helrats who were killed down to the very last one of them. Kerr promised to let the main priest go alive and kept his word—letting the jerk go alive, into the abyss. Do you still think of him as an unreasonable chick? I’m afraid the Kerr that came back isn’t the same Kerr whom we remember and know.” Karegar, shaking the dust off his belly and tail, rose to his feet. “Absolutely not the same. Why don’t you think about what you’re going to say when you meet him, instead? I’m sure he was enlightened about the events of three thousand years ago and your belonging to the imperial family. Imagine! If dragons came with him, after fulfilling the prophecy of Enira…? Are you ready to put a crown on?”

  “I’m afraid,” Jagirra whispered. “I’m afraid to lose him, like I almost lost you for being so stupid. I’m afraid of how he’s changed on Nelita. I didn’t tell you, but the totem spoke up strongly, twice. How strong does magic have to be to work across hundreds of thousands of leagues?”

  “Strong. Don’t forget the power of the true bloods. Our son is one.”

  “I just hope that power and strength don’t ruin him.”

  “Don’t you trust your own son?” Karegar raised his wings over his back. Sarcasm and ostentatious surprise slid around in every gesture. “That won’t happen. Look around. What do you see?” The dragon took just a couple of steps and hovered over Jagirra as a black mountain. The huge head sank to the ground; a piercing glance stared into the eyes of the crystal dragoness. “Everyone who came to the valley, they came with him… came for him. Who could lead orcs, Norsemen, and
dragons, combining different creatures into one flock? Such different people follow him, swore allegiance to him. The children are waiting for him.” Karegar threw a glance at the ledge, where the muzzles of the curious dragonlings flashed over the edge. “You know,” the dragon jerked his tail from side to side, repeating the words of an old Forest Elf. “children do not mistake these sorts of things! You shouldn’t doubt. I can’t believe that someone who has lived for three thousand years under an elf’s mask and has overcome thousands of fears can plunge into the abyss of doubt, frightened by the phantom danger of being misunderstood.”

  “You misunderstood me once.”

  Karegar emerged from the shadow of the building and spread his wings, letting them soak in the solar heat. The conversation greatly exhausted him. “You’re arguing as a human woman or a simple elf, under the guise of which you lived for several thousand years. Reject human logic and don’t use it on Kerr. He’s now more a dragon than a human. You’re scared, but of what? Don’t pay attention to my past words. Kerr has showed himself to be a leader. He knows how to take care of others, take responsibility and make the most difficult decisions. I’m glad I agreed to the Ritual and found such a son. So back to you, your fears and the reasons for them. You are afraid to take responsibility for the dragons if they come to Ilanta. You are afraid you won’t justify the trust placed in you. My dear, wings of my soul, let me give one piece of advice.” Karegar turned to Jagirra. “Be yourself. Nothing else is required of you.”

  “Do you feel that?” Jagirra asked, feeling a wave of magic spreading from the center of the square.

  Karegar tensed. The air over the monastery sparkled. The stream of mana became stronger. A sharp clap of the defense breaking down was heard. A shockwave tilted the trees, and tiles fell from the roofs of the houses nearest to the square.

  “To shelter!” the dragon barked, then flew in three powerful leaps onto the upper ledge and gently grabbed Tyigu in his teeth. He built a magical shield behind him (his returned magic and hard training with Gray had yielded excellent results) and drove the dragons under the protection of the dungeon. Jagirra, pumping mana from the walls of the monastery, wove an attack interweave; the other dragons soared into the sky and lined up in a battle V, ready to repel the unknown danger.

  A bright flash, a nearly-deafening clap, and a hail of stones from the center of the square forced everyone to squint and duck into the shelters. When the inhabitants of the former monastery blinked from the flies floating in their eyes, a portal frame shimmering with a silvery color appeared before them. Someone wasn’t stingy with mana for creating a spatial transition. Whoever it was had to invest a monstrous charge in it. The portal, configured on the monastery as the exit point, pierced a strong spatial defense and destroyed most of the magical shields.

  Breaking the mirror-like surface, sparking with a powerful shield, a large dragon with golden scales stepped onto the square. Jagirra felt the scales burning in the area of the scapula of her left front paw. [S18]The stranger removed the magic shield and took a few steps forward, freeing the spot for a slender dragoness with coal-black scales and silvery patterns on her sides. Following the black beauty, several dragons of different colors and dozens of tall soldiers in full armor came onto the square.

  Gathering her courage, Jagirra carefully moved to the forefront and, with a regal gait, walked towards the new arrivals. Wings raised slightly, each step taken with great care, she walked straight towards him, seeing the confidence in Kerr’s eyes. The dragons who came out of the portal simultaneously, in a gesture of subordination to the eldest, opened their wings and bowed their heads to the ground, exposing their necks to the impact of powerful jaws and giving their fate up to the Mistress’ paws. The warriors fell on one knee, and only the big dragon that first emerged from the portal remained upright but opened one wing, covering the black female to show that she was his partner for life. The gesture was ordinary, loving and familiar for both dragons. There were no doubts left in the minds of those present that they were together, in a serious relationship forever. The transparent inserts in the membranes flashed; the sun peered out from behind the clouds; small rainbows flashed above the main newcomer. Afraid to believe her own happiness, Jagirra froze in place. Someone in the defensive V-formation that was circling the monastery roared plaintively. A lone figure separated from the pack and disappeared behind the nearest mountain peak. Jagirra watched Lanirra fly away, who had been living on hope, hopes which were now finally disappointed by her son.

  “Mom,” the dragon’s voice rumbled as he lowered his head to the ground. Jagirra, barely controlling her trembling paws[S19], took the last few steps necessary to cross the remaining distance between her and her son and covered him with her wing. The dragoness was surprised to recognize the warriors as miur; by their behavior, she could tell they served Kerr. A miracle!

  “KERR!” Rary and Rury jumped out from around the corner with Tyigu on Rary’s back. “Kerr!” The babies galloped towards him, jumping clumsily and using their wings as crutches along the way in an amusing manner. How the girl miraculously managed to stay on the neck of the improvised horse was a mystery.

  The appearance of the younger generation broke the whole officialdom. Gray led the V to land. From under Kerr’s wing came a small elf, cautiously looking around.

  “I told you my mother’s not as scary as they told you in the clan,” laughed Kerr. “You see, she hasn’t eaten anyone yet.” Kerr folded his wings and changed hypostasis. Jagirra gasped, clenching her teeth.

  “Hello, Momma,” the Snow Elf said[S20], dropping to one knee and sparkling with his blue eyes. The dragons behind him continued to stand with their wings open and their heads lowered to the ground. The miur, resting their right knees on the pavement, looked at the hewn stones. The Forest Elf, lifting the hem of her dress, sank to one knee behind Kerr and finished off the dragoness with the following phrase: “Your Majesty, your subjects greet you. They have borne faith in your return thousands of years later. May your favor turn to the honor of the clans who did not reject the ancient oath.”

  Jagirra looked at the kneeling elf[S21] with such a familiar face. She saw her own features as if reflected in a mirror and thought that Karegar was right. Bowing on his knee before her was an adult, prudent dragon. Kerr did not look at all like a youngster. The prefix “tarr” to his name was obsolete and needed to be replaced with “gar.” The Empress was amazed at how her son had arranged the meeting.

  One gesture freed him from a long and difficult conversation with Lanirra, who had her own designs on him; now only ashes remained of her plans. There would be scenes of jealousy and words spoken in anger, but a fat line was drawn which she could not cross. Andy’s cheerful words to the Forest Elf defused the situation and relieved the tension. The word “mom” emphasized her undoubted seniority and marked her dominant position, and the sharp transition to the used title returned the conversation to the diplomatic path and reminded the dragoness of the imperial crown. Jagirra realized that her son knew everything. Words harvested in the throes of hard thinking were unnecessary and would be superfluous. It was better to simply accept Kerr as he was and recognize him in a new way.

  Miur and dragons, Forest Elves… who else came with Kerr? How many of them? Surely more than a dozen. The right count would be tens of thousands, and how many dragons? She would have to learn to manage clans and peoples; the imperial crown caught up with her on this planet. And she could feel excellently the aura of power emanating from her son, as well as the fact that he still remained Kerr, her Kerr, the Kerr described by Miduel, Tyigu, Ilnyrgu, Slaisa, Lanirra, Gray, and the kids.

  “I thank you for your faith in me and I count it an honor to look with favor upon the clans and take them under my wing, those clans for whom their word is a reliable bond, not just an empty sound, even after thousands of years. Rise, Lords of the Sky. I want your wings to carry my words to all the clans.” Looking at her son, Jagirra could feel his silent support and see it
in his eyes. The dragons lifted their heads and folded their wings. No matter how badly she wanted to spend more time with Kerr and talk about everything under the sun, now that she had said “a,” she had to follow with “b.” “Rise, son. I am glad you proved yourself worthy of the hopes we had in you, and I order the council to meet tomorrow.”

  “And so it will, Your Majesty. I leave Ania with you. She will bring you up to date on all events and the political situation. She will familiarize you with the results of the recent negotiations.” Kerr nodded towards the black dragoness in elf form. “Tomorrow at noon the mages of Orten will open a portal. The council of clans will be expecting you, Your Majesty.”

  And so, the council was already functioning! the Empress thought for a second. That meant that more than five clans had come to Ilanta, which was about a thousand dragons. She could be wrong; it could be a couple hundred more.

  Bowing low, Kerr quietly whispered, “Mom, please be really nice to my bride, and keep her safe from Lani.”

  “Go on, son. Take my will to the council members.”

  Kerr smiled, bowed low again, waved to the kids, squeezed Ania’s hands for a moment, and went to the portal. The miur and the other witnesses to the dragoness’ faithful sentiments and family reunion disappeared into the silvery haze after him. Her daughter-in-law, left alone, looked around sadly.

  Jagirra chuckled to herself. A man. All men were alike, ready to tackle a rabid sul with their bare hands, but afraid to speak from the heart with women. The main thing was, he came back. They would yet have one-on-one time. The crystal dragon looked at Kerr’s chosen one and sized her up. The evening was just coming, and the night would be long. Prepare yourself, girl. You won’t get any sleep tonight…