by LJ Davies
"It seems the wing leader was wrong – I'm more than a match for you. Maybe once I have returned you to the Great Master, he’ll see fit to put me in charge instead," he mused, raising a talon over my eye.
I squirmed, but he merely laughed at my futile struggle as he hissed.
"So much for the creators’ hero..."
A fresh hail of arrows followed by blasts of varying coloured flames assaulted the fiend as humans, dragons, griffins and faldron alike assaulted him in unison. He flashed his teeth, growling furiously as he whipped his tail about to swipe several of his assailants aside.
"Stop battling the inevitable, accept your fate and die!" he roared, his neck coiling to send another fiery blast their way.
Their assault had been enough to unbalance him, and I pushed up with all of my strength, forcing him to swipe me aside with one heavy lash of his claws.
"Give up!" he hissed, and with a twist of his head, dragged me across the ground like a bloody rag.
"Blaze, no!" Tarwin cried over the silence that gripped my mind.
Without a second thought, I leapt up, charging horns first at the dark dragon.
Tarwin can now see the real power of her fallen star. My resilience didn't catch Sceptre off guard, and he met my attack with a bolt of fire.
The world exploded in purple light as the blast catapulted me through the trees and down the hill. Shrubs and branches cracked and shattered around me, before I finally crashed into a patch of ferns at the base of a tree. He swiftly glided to a halt before me as he folded his vast wings and scoffed.
"You'd have made a good ebon wing. If only you'd listened, you could have been one of the soon to be many," he mocked, scowling. "You've the world's most powerful weapon but no idea how to use it."
He towered over me, ripping my chest plate away and pressing a talon to my heart.
At least it won’t be the first time. I thought as I stared into his eyes.
"It matters not, I'll deliver your cold, dead body to the Great Master, and when you wake, this world, this war..." He peered up into the sky. "You'll wish death really had found you."
The appearance of a blue streak abruptly cut off his sly words. He staggered back, while blackness seeped into my vision, and my armour slipped away as my thoughts began to fade. The ebon wing only seemed to notice his injuries when he fought to stand, but it was too late, a glistening bolt of armoured scales sank their silver claws deep into his tattered wings.
He growled, kicking up with all the energy he had left, the spines along his back digging into the underside of his attacker's armour. His assailant seemed to have underestimated his strength, but they were swift, and with one clean sweep, the blades on their wings sliced the end of his tail clean off. Sceptre howled, coiling back like a trapped animal as his adversary spun round to face him.
"This isn't over," he hissed, and in a blur of black scales he vanished into the trees with only a trail of dusty ichor in his wake.
I peered up through my darkening vision to see the sleek and serpentine form of a sky-blue dragoness clad in regal armour, her movements silent as her bladed tail swished and her sharp wings folded. Even in this state she wasn't hard to recognise, and as the light faded from my vision, I saw the silhouettes of others approaching.
We've made it, my friends are safe.
"I suppose this makes us equal now, Guardian?" Zephyra proposed.
Yes, we're equal now. I inwardly mumbled as the world fell away and I passed into unconsciousness.
Part II
The Overlook
Chapter 9
The New Order
A vague sense of awareness flickered back to me, timed with the rhythmic tapping of stones. The blurred image of some dark world swarmed into my vision before the staggered panels of reality realigned. I lay at the base of an icy pillar, below the faint light of stars. This time there was no ocean, no ruined outcrop, and most notably, no sign of the illusion claiming to be Seraphine.
High above the pillar, the burning sphere rose into the unforgiving night; fire consuming its surface like spilled water over dry stone. Mordrakk mused over me from a vaguely throne-like rock formation, stones grasped in his talons. Even so, I raised a forepaw to stop my head spinning, barely managing to get it off the ground.
"So, everything is falling into place," he proclaimed, waving away several more tallies. "How does it feel to know that everyone has played you for a fool since the beginning?"
"No more than I've been used by you," I grumbled, as I staggered to my paws.
"Your gods, your leader and now your friends have all used you and you don't even see it," he continued. "Your friends, your family, do you honestly believe that they have no part in this? The entire world is praying you will save them, and yet you know not all believe that to be true."
He clattered the stones together, sending sparks flying between them.
"After all, is that not what you wanted?" he added slyly.
"What would you know of it?" I snapped.
"Without my full power I see only what you see, but after what transpired in the Paragon, the events that have been creeping up on you since that first day you took a step into the void, I know exactly what they will ask of you," he taunted.
His claims to see things I couldn't, poured more fuel onto the flames of my dread. I peered into his eyes, ready to reply when more cryptic words silenced me.
"It is most unfortunate that your intellect is so overshadowed by my own. If you really want to know what your last hope is, I would ask your leaders, then your friends. You know at least one of them has been lying to you."
The cunning grin he wore during the latter part of his sentence sent a simultaneous rush of fear and rage through me, but before I could respond, he faded away, and within moments, the chilling illusion of my surroundings evaporated into the darkness with him.
*
The heaviness of sleep wavered as my weary eyes slowly opened. I rustled my wings to feel the light texture of a warm sheet and a soft, mossy bed beneath me. As my eyes adjusted to the light, I saw a dull hue filter through what appeared to be white canvas, forming the walls of whatever room in which I lay.
Peering down over the edge of what I discovered to be a stone bed, I could see the floor seemed to be no more than dirt, trampled slightly and covered by a thin layer of straw. As my vision continued to clear and the throbbing pain in my head began to fade, I lifted myself up and glanced about, concluding that I was inside some form of tent. Fancier than those I'd seen Tarwin and the hunters use. A firm wooden frame supported its canvas, and several wicker-crafted tables lined its walls.
It was clear that the room was only a small portion of the canopy. In fact, the whole thing was constructed on the foundations of a long-ruined structure, making it more like a permanent nest than a temporary shelter. The extent of the crumbling architecture was evident by the towering shadows cast over the cloth, resembling the shattered skeleton of an ancient beast.
Looks like there's a whole ruined fortress outside.
My attention soon turned to what lay inside the tent. Primarily what appeared to be healing supplies and potions stored in glass vials or stone pots.
I really hope no one wasted them on me when there could be so many others who need them.
I suddenly recalled that I'd no idea what was going on, or where I was. Nor did I know anything of what had transpired after I'd blacked out. The light outside, and the fact my pain had dulled to a mild ache, told me that it had to have been at least a day or so.
Looking myself over, as expected, I saw nothing more than a clean body of white scales hidden beneath a sheet. The only thing that hadn't changed was the ugly scar still staining my shoulder, although the wound had been dressed.
It felt like the first time I'd been without my armour for weeks, only this time, I'd no idea where it was. Not that I cared; I was almost glad not to have the reminder.
The sound of someone approaching interrupted my thoughts, and
craving the distraction, I looked over to a flap in the wall to see a vaguely familiar face enter. A white griffiness, with pale-blue fur on her haunches, wore a leather saddle over her back, its pockets brimming with healing supplies. The moment she saw me, she cocked her head, and unlike most others, my recovered condition didn't seem to surprise her.
"It's good to see you again," Mountain Echo said kindly, turning her attention away from my scars.
"You too," I uttered, nodding at the memory of the griffiness who'd treated me in Storm Peak over a year ago.
Oblivious to my mental struggle, she moved on, setting several healing salves down on the table as I asked.
"What is this place, what happened to the others?"
"This is the healing tent and your friends are doing fine. We've already treated most of the wounded, and the poisoned Mordrin is being cared for. Although, I'll admit, their medicines are not familiar to me," she explained.
"That one's more of an acquaintance than a friend," I muttered.
Nevertheless, I rolled onto my front and rose tentatively to my paws. Echo bore a concerned look, slowly replaced by a hopeful gleam, the same one I'd seen the day we had met.
"Do forgive my bold words, but the day I treated you I was surprised. Your ability to regenerate, it’s..." Her voice trailed off, and she waved a talon, as if to snatch the answer from the air.
"Amazing?" I finished, but she shook her head.
"No," she answered, much to my surprise. "We've been here for almost a whole season, and not everyone comes back from the skirmishes in good shape. I've seen a lot of friends die, too many souls brought back to me with no hope but the grave," she explained solemnly, bowing her head slightly.
Remorse filled me once more, though fear overshadowed melancholy. A fear that soon I'd have to witness the same fate claim those whom I cared about so greatly.
"I'm sorry," I answered, voice devoid of emotion.
She shook her head again as it rose.
"You are the last one who should be sorry for such things, for it is you that brings me hope, brings us all hope. What you have survived and accomplished are proof to us all that it is not hopeless."
It was almost as if she was insulted that I thought anything less of myself.
If only she knew the truth, knew of the great darkness hidden below the banner of gleaming hope. If only she knew how powerful the forces that sought her world’s destruction really were. How many more will come back to her dead before the end?
As much as I hated myself for it, I upheld her beliefs and simply nodded. She moved back to get more supplies, and one by one, I stretched my legs, before doing the same with both wings.
"I don't suppose you will need anything more for that?" she asked, looking at my scar.
"I doubt there's a remedy in the world that can fix it," I admitted.
"I wouldn't be so sure. Your friend has been doing all she can to fix you up," she explained, slightly amused by the fact.
Confusion gripped me, seemingly allowing the featherwing a little more entertainment as she giggled.
"The same dragoness who's been taking care of you since the last time we met, I see," she stated as someone else entered the room.
"I see you're awake and still alive," Risha groaned with both a faint hint of satisfaction and irritation as she ran a forepaw over her weary face.
She seemed to have recently escaped from a long overdue slumber, and yet her tired eyes conveyed everything that was going on in her mind. I shied away, fearing that I'd once again done something terrible. She looked at Echo, forcing a weak smile as the griffiness glanced between us.
"I'll leave you two alone, it was good to see you again," she finished, before slipping away.
Moments later, Risha glanced over my body, as if she could see all the things still wrong with me that I was oblivious to.
"Thanks," I muttered, staring at the floor.
She sighed, placing a forepaw on the bedside and nudging my left wing.
"Of course, but what did I do? You just came back together all on your own, it’s certainly not thanks to me," she hissed, nudging my wings slightly harder and causing the muscles to ache. "You came back to me no better than a bag of broken bones. I left you for one moment and you went and got yourself blown up!" she declared, flaring her wings.
Yet as soon as that flash of anger spiked, her mood softened. She shook her head with a slight grunt and turned away, focusing her attention on one of the supply-laden tables.
"Both of your wings were shattered – and don't get me started on your legs. No dragon is supposed to be able to take a lightning bolt to the muzzle and live to talk about it," she lectured.
I made an effort to hop off the bed, slipping back down like a fool as she rummaged through the supplies Echo had left.
"So all this is yours?" I asked, looking about the tent.
"Not all of it, but there aren’t many of us who know about healing. I guess my lack of order progression in Dardien isn't a problem here, especially with all the experience I have following you around," she joked while returning to me. "But I guess we both have things we don't tell one another," she added sourly.
"Don’t get me wrong, Blaze, I respect what you do, a great many more may have been lost if you hadn’t, it's just…" Her voice trailed off, while her tail flicked nervously.
"All the times you've been beaten and bloodied, I watched you die. Blaze, you’re my friend, the best dragon I know, and to watch you do this to yourself while I’m so helpless to stop you. It... it’s almost like you come back just so I can watch you suffer again!" Her head sank as she muttered.
"I still love you. I always will, but we..." As her words faded, I finally jumped down from the bed, placing my wing on her shoulder.
Just tell her, tell her the truth! What am I afraid of, that she'll hate me? If she does, will that ensure her safety, will she stay away and not get hurt? I'd no idea whether the part of me that resisted telling her what I really was, was selfish or foolish.
"I don't want to pretend to understand, but you and the others are the closest thing to family that I've got, and if anything happened to you, I would, well…" I replied, thinking about Boltock's scarred wing, Tarwin’s father and the sight of Risha lying on scorched stone with blood trailing from her shoulder.
"I care for you as well, more than anyone I've ever met, even if I don't really understand it." I laughed slightly at the confession. "But they made me to protect their creation, and while I don't care for that purpose, if it means I can protect you, then that's why I have to be the one."
Logic and love waged a war in my mind to rival that brewing around us. Meanwhile, I could tell she was angry; she hated me for what I did to myself. However, we both knew that if it had been her taking Sceptre's strike, she'd be dead, just like anyone else. She sighed, moving back to the shelves.
"I spent all night in here caring for you, and I still can’t find anything for that," she pondered, flicking her tail in the direction of my scar.
"There's nothing you can do for it."
"So you're not so invincible after all?" she challenged.
"I've had this wound since the day I left, if it was going to kill me, I'd be dead already," I confessed, shifting my shoulder to hide the scar.
"I'd be more inclined to believe that if you'd tell me what happened," she continued, rounding on me.
"I... I can't, if you knew..." I stammered as I realised how close I'd come to telling her.
"Your lies hurt as much as all the lightning strikes in the world," she added. "You'd die for me, and yet all I expect from you is honesty!" she finished, her tone rising sharply, her tail and wings twitching in agitation.
I coiled back; my failed emotional barricades unable to weather an assault they were never prepared to endure. I felt the urge to curl into a cocoon of silence, my last line of defence against such things. Risha noticed immediately, and unlike me, she actually knew what to do.
"Love is not somethin
g we hold each other to," she admitted quietly, seemingly as much to herself as to me. "It's about us, sharing things, feelings, troubles, all of it. We're a team, Blaze."
"Risha, I'm sorry but..." I started, but the words faded as they caught in my throat.
Her eyes narrowed, as if she were playing different endings to my sentence in her mind.
"It’s good to see you're awake and well," Soaren unexpectedly interrupted.
His appearance startled us both, and I jumped like a frightened songbird as he peered in from the tent flap.
"Yes, it's good to see you too," I replied sheepishly, part of me wishing he'd just leave.
"The order master and Elders request your presence in the keep. I am to escort you there as soon as possible."
The Elders? After what they've done to manipulate me, not to mention the Cartographer, they've got a lot to answer for.
I nodded and Soaren stepped out.
"Do you want me to come?" Risha asked.
"No, you should get some more rest," I advised, hoping she'd listen. "I'm glad you stayed awake for me, but..."
She yawned and ruffled her wings, thankfully not opposing my suggestion.
"Our tent is the red one by the training grounds. I'll meet you there later," she replied, brushing her muzzle against the clean side of my neck as she left. "I trust you won't get into too much trouble without me around?"
I froze under her gentle touch but managed a nervous nod.
"I think I'll be fine, and thanks for taking care of me," I repeated, unable to avoid thinking about how much of an inconvenience I must have been.
"You would have done the same for me, although I'm still mad at you," she declared sternly as she left.
I know she is, but what can I do? I thought, moving past Soaren through an opening into a larger part of the tent.
He bore the same stoic look, cloudy scales and silver armour, making him look more like a statue than a dragon, at least until he glanced at me.
"Are you ready?" he asked, before leading on.
