Dargonfire: Age of Legend

by LJ Davies

  "There you are," a voice cut through the noise.

  Before I could determine who'd called out, I redirected my eyes to Neera and Ember. The latter of the pair stood beside one of the larger doors, while the other tried to enter without drawing too much attention.

  "Glad to see you could find this place," Ember joked.

  "You can say that again," Neera added as she straightened her cobbled armour and ruffled feathers.

  "Forget about being noticed, it's hard to avoid being stepped on down here!" she flustered indignantly.

  Her actions drew a laugh from Boltock, which seemed to be more like a way to avoid having to acknowledge Ember, though he clearly wanted to.

  "So, I see you're all together at last," an older, instantly recognisable voice announced.

  All eyes turned as Vulkaine strode into view. Behind him, the other Elders made their way through the crowd, everyone stepping aside to allow them passage as they exchanged a set of silent glances and nodded to their fiery companion.

  "Elements of fire, water, earth and air," he stated wisely, looking to us all respectively, even encompassing Neera.

  I guess her fire is at least half air, after all. I reasoned, glad to see someone didn't have a problem including her in all of this.

  As expected, the faldron radiated pride, while the others bowed their heads in recognition as their elements were stated. I did no such thing. Instead, I locked eyes with his clouded spheres, instantly recognising the centuries of wisdom, assuring him he was doing the right thing.

  Is it really the right thing, or the necessary thing? Before either of us could break the silence, another voice cast itself between us.

  "It is good to meet you again, Guardian." It was a gruff, hardy and vaguely familiar sound.

  We all turned, and my memory put a name to its owner, a large black griffin, one of his eyes clouded and crossed by a deep scar. Plated metal armour trimmed with gold adorned his body, distinguishing it from those of the formidable-looking griffins forming his guard. Without his throne, King Halfbeak appeared slightly less intimidating, though he still didn't look like a creature I wanted to cross. Even so, raising a talon up against his feathered breast, he lowered his head in a subtle bow.

  "It’s good to meet your friends once more too," he added, looking at Risha with a particular hint of respect.

  "Good to see you again too, your highness," I offered, motioning toward him with a forepaw.

  "I was glad to hear of your triumph over the Dark Guardian. Even if the news came almost three seasons later than anticipated," he commented, waving a talon in emphasis.

  I smiled, but with no clear response presenting itself, I remained awkwardly silent.

  "Nevertheless, it would seem my efforts were not in vain, nor were yours. Perhaps the old alliance does indeed have more standing than we thought," he said, glancing at Vulkaine.

  The older dragon nodded, but at that moment, his eyes fixed on something beyond me. The moment I noticed, I turned to see another figure appear beside the Elder, and the difference between them was incredible. Clopping hooves, hidden under a regal blue robe covering their white feathers and haunches, confirmed it was a hippogriff.

  Their eyes glistened like the calm sky of a spring day, betrayed by a sharp, black beak. Instead of the armour worn by their half-feline counterpart, they wore a light frame of golden rings, necklaces and jewels, while a robe covered their rear legs and equine tail. King Halfbeak gave a subtle nod as the hippogriff noticed him, although their focus was fixed on me.

  "Guardian, may I introduce Queen Eirian Silverwing, ruler of the hippogriff realm of Mistwind," Vulkaine continued, putting a name to the majestic creature while motioning toward her with a forepaw.

  I gave a subtle bow, as did the others. Unlike the griffins, Eirian seemed far more interested in me than any formalities.

  "So this is the one of which the Sigils’ legend spoke, the one of unnatural blood, the reason we are all here?" she asked curiously, her divine voice almost putting Zephyra's regal tone to shame.

  So why does that feel more like a statement than a question? I thought as I nodded, somewhat anxious that I'd pollute the smoothness of her voice with my own.

  "Yes, your majesty," I responded.

  She closed her eyes and raised a foreleg, bowing in a way so fluent it made every other form of respect I'd seen look like a rockslide.

  "I am pleased to say that the pleasure is mine, and on behalf of the rest of my kind, I must express my utmost respect."

  When she raised her head, something nudged at my side, and I saw Risha motioning at the queen.

  "T–Thank you, your majesty," I stuttered, awkwardly repeating myself.

  "The lands to the south have long waited for the day the creators would return, and not to a griffin after all," she mused, a smile parting her beak as she glanced at Halfbeak.

  It took a moment for him to realise she was addressing him, at which point he huffed.

  "I merely hoped, Eirian. If the creators decree that he be a leatherwing, then so be it," he responded, puffing up his feathers.

  She nodded and turned to Vulkaine.

  "My pleasure, Elder one."

  The Fire Elder nodded, the first smile I'd seen upon his face, appearing for the briefest moment, before fading as Eirian turned away.

  "Guardian, may silver mist’s safe shroud find you," she added, before vanishing into the crowd.

  What just happened, it's like she had me in a trance!? I sat there, stunned at the compliment.

  "Long-feathered spell-spitters," Halfbeak muttered under his breath. "I shall take my leave, farewell, Guardian," he finished, nodding to the Elder and I before following after her with his guards.

  Is it just me, or is there some awkward tension there? Regardless, silence endured until a stunned Neera interrupted.

  "Do all royals treat you that way?" I caught her looking at me like I were a king.

  "You have no idea," Risha answered for me.

  "All but my own kind's, it seems," I sighed.

  "I wouldn't be so quick to judge the one who has forsaken us all, for the Sovereign still has a part to play in this," Vulkaine stated wisely. "But such things do not matter right now. Now come, we should begin," he finished, waving a foreclaw toward the hall.

  The others followed gradually while I paused, the gravity of our situation gripping my mind as the confusion of my recent introductions faded.

  "Blaze!" a rushed voice announced, as if trying to steal my attention before I moved on.

  Tarwin stood with a few other humans, and without a thought, I darted over.

  "I still haven't quite gotten used to not understanding what is being said around here," she panted, crouching down to meet me. "Not to mention your leaders want to meet in the hardest place to find!" she stated, before standing to move on, muttering to herself. "This is going to be the strangest night of my life."

  As they shuffled by, a final few stragglers edged past. Before finally, I was surprised to see Zephyra.

  "I thought you'd have been first to enter?" I suggested as she approached.

  She smiled, waving a dismissive forepaw.

  "I thought you were the last one to have any expectations?" she replied. "No, this is the Elders’ council – and yours," she added respectfully. "So, with that in mind, shall we enter?"

  If I say no, will she stay out here with me? Alternatively, if I ask her to call this off and let things take their course, will she do so? That dark reality flashed through my mind, and I knew it was something I couldn't do. No that future, that's not ours.

  "This is how every end that came before began," Mordrakk boasted.

  I gritted my teeth, nodded slowly to Zephyra and ignored my mind's dark words.

  Then let this end be the end of that. I thought as we entered.

  *

  Narrow grooves and intricate markings, reminiscent of those I'd seen outside, covered the corridor beyond the archway and a pair of large wooden do
ors. As we passed through, the chamber opened out and I noticed it was slightly reminiscent of Dardien’s elder chamber. The smoothed outer walls rose up to a roughly domed, more natural-looking ceiling, while the architecture of the room appeared to be older than the ruins above.

  Brazier light illuminated the space, and at its centre, a long table provided a sitting space for the few bodies it could accommodate. At the far end, the wall appeared to fall down into an ordinary cave, adding the sound of running water to the orchestra of noises.

  Griffins occupied the seats closest to me. King Halfbeak perched on a large stone pedestal protruding from the crowd. The hippogriffs sat opposite, with Queen Eirian sat upon a similarly large pillar. Beside them, were the humans, closest to the rear of the chamber and lacking a pillar altogether.

  I was unsure how to feel about that, yet was at least sure I should be glad they were here at all.

  After being outcasts for so long, I can't expect them to be welcomed with complete open arms so soon, can I?

  Regardless, the assembly all stood as Zephyra made her way to a throne on the far side, and except for the sound of gushing water, the cavern fell silent.

  Four large pedestals rose up and curved about the back of her, separating the chamber from the cavern below. The space before them was reminiscent of the platform on which I'd stood before the Elders upon our first meeting, while a fifth forward podium loomed over the table and crowd. More strange markings decorated its surface and the more natural features. Yet both dripping sediment and vegetation had taken their toll, fading the ancient symbols.

  This place is older than I thought. I noted as my attention moved to the Elders sat upon each pillar. I wonder if they really care as much as they say.

  I moved around to the larger set of seats behind the podium, one of which was an old, stone throne. I noticed my friends, the Cartographer and his phoenix among them, while Apollo was perched beside the assembly and Soaren stood opposite like a silver extension of the ancient stonework. Risha and I exchanged glances, and I noted the seat next to her was vacant.

  Don't need to guess who she saved that for. I thought, happy she'd not completely given up on me.

  "Don't tell me you got lost," Neera joked, seemingly proud of her position at the most esteemed end of the chamber.

  I shook my head and smiled, taking some relief from the break in the serious mood.

  "We were beginning to wonder the same," the Cartographer muttered from across the arch to my right, giving me a knowing look as his second voice sniggered.

  "Who's that?" Risha asked, peering round me to see the old dragon.

  "A friend... Well, an acquaintance," I muttered, taking the seat next to her.

  He looked pained, his eyes fixing on me in particular before glancing back to her and smiling.

  "We are the Cartographer, at your service," he announced, the phoenix shifting to balance on his staff as he offered a subtle bow.

  Risha looked as if she were trying to accept the kind greeting the way she would with any other dragon, and yet the confusion on her face grew somewhat.

  "Cartographer of what?" she asked.

  "Don't ask," I interrupted, and to my surprise, he looked proud that I'd done so.

  By the creators, I'll never understand that dragon.

  The sudden appearance of Zephyra from the archway silenced our conversation. She moved between us to take her place on the foremost podium, nodding to Apollo.

  "Would you do me the honour of translation?" she requested, and without hesitation, he hovered forward, positioning himself above the central table.

  "Greetings, noble races of the old alliance, my fellow leaders," the princess began while the construct translated and amplified her voice for all to hear.

  The room fell silent and all eyes fixed on the princess, yet she looked at Apollo, and with a flash of light from his eyes, the golden hawk cast a flickering projection over the table. Like in the Taldran temple, it formed a shimmering image. Only instead of other worlds, what I assumed were the ruins above Dardien materialise before everyone. It was sad that the first things I identified were the cankerous orkin structures and the swarms of beasts coating the place like a carpet of insects.

  How can anyone deny that this isn't going to work? I thought, noticing that even those most stoic were seemingly unsettled by the orkins’ numbers.

  "This is the most recent assessment of the Brazen Horde's occupation of Andruid," Zephyra declared. "As you can see, it is a situation unlike any since the treachery of the Guardians. This is why you have all been called here, for this night we must once again decide how to act against this evil, lest it claim us all."

  A feeling of dread washed over me – this is it; this is real and there's no turning back.

  A new, more respectful silence gripped the chamber as each pair of eyes focused on Zephyra, many seeming to judge the young leader, especially the griffins. The gem-like eyes of the hippogriffs gleamed with more of a sense of pride and ancient tradition, while Tarwin and the rest of her kind just looked daunted.

  It was at that point, I realised, that beside the Elders, the Cartographer, and maybe a few older dragons, none of them had ever attended such a meeting. It may have been because of that notion that the sense of remaining true to a long-forgotten treaty lay so heavy in the air, but Zephyra ignored the tension as she continued.

  "The plains to the south have become infested by the enemy. The ruins have become a fortress for the brazen warlord and his commanders, the forces of which, I am pained to say, number in the tens of thousands, if not more."

  A chorus of hushed tones and voices filled the air as advisors whispered into the ears of their leaders and higher-ranking soldiers muttered about the dire situation. On the griffin side, the stamping of armoured talons cut off the whispering as a random featherwing spoke up.

  "Maybe the ancestors should have been wiser than to leave the defence of the city to your kind alone."

  Within moments, more voices rallied about the accusation.

  "Indeed! Leatherwings have always been arrogant!"

  "You'd never slay a single orkin, unless it was within your own nests," another griffin added.

  "I did not think your kind would be one to accuse others of arrogance," a hippogriff cut in as she stood up, and all avian eyes instantly set upon each other.

  "And what would you know about any of this, you haven't set a claw north of the cursed lands in over a hundred years!?" a griffin challenged, causing several hippogriffs to scowl and puff up their feathered chests.

  "I will have you know that the world does not revolve about the northern lands," another hippogriff stated. "The south and east bear many dangers you are lucky to be ignorant of."

  "Well, maybe you should have stayed down there with the rest of those who abandoned the old alliance," a griffin retorted swiftly.

  "The notable word there is old. This alliance has not been called upon in our lifetime, nor has it within those of two generations," one hippogriff cleverly replied.

  They seemed to have their verbal adversaries beaten at that, and in their defeat, the griffins turned toward the princess.

  "And what of your kind, what do leatherwings have to say on this matter?"

  "Indeed, your kind saw the passing of the last great age, surely you know more of this new plight?" came more questions.

  "Enough!" a loud voice boomed, heralded by an almost godly stomp of metal talons.

  "All of you remain silent. Senseless babbling will not see us closer to the orkins’ defeat," Halfbeak declared, looming like thunder clouds atop his pedestal, the glare he shot the hippogriffs like lightning.

  The queen of the avian-equines stood, waving her graceful wings to gently silence her restless subjects without a word.

  "Indeed, he is right; we will make no progress this way." Eirian nodded at the griffin monarch, dismissing his glare with one of her own. "We have waited long enough to make our move against the orkin, for if Dardien falls, n
othing will stand between our enemy and the cursed lands.”

  An uneasy feeling fell over the room, a sensation only amplified as the hippogriff queen added.

  "For should Mordrin's foulness rise again, there will be no hope of victory."

  A low grumble left Halfbeak's throat, yet even he seemed to fear those implications and both he, and the queen, turned their attention to Zephyra.

  "There's also the situation involving your father. Dealing with this should have been his task to begin with," the King added, a clear hint of bitterness in his tone.

  Zephyra collected herself and straightened. It was no surprise when her answer came.

  "So it should. It is clear that Dardien’s current Sovereign is unfit to rule. He points accusations of betrayal at his own subjects, to safeguard his crown. If we are to win the day, he will be relieved of his position," she admitted somewhat shamefully.

  "And what of Dardien’s armies?" Queen Eirian asked, ushering an unsettled glance from both Halfbeak and Zephyra.

  "What remains of our forces are stationed here, and as for those who remain in the city, we have no word. A small resistance force still battles within Andruid, but beyond that we cannot rely on Dardien’s soldiers to aid us," the princess admitted, and a small, golden patch appeared upon Apollo's projection highlighting the band of armoured dragons trapped inside the city.

  There's so few of them down there? I observed, heart dropping, as Mordrakk asked why I should save the dragons who'd betrayed me.

  Because it would be the right thing to do but... My thoughts trailed off. How can I risk the lives of so many, to save so few? Heated arguments began anew around me.

  "So tell me, how do you expect to face the armies of the Brazen Horde and those of Shadow Fen? Even with the Guardian’s return, there are simply not enough wings," Halfbeak stated, glancing to Tarwin and the others before adding with uncertainty. "Or arms."

  I sank back at the mention of my title, his statement compounding my fears and bringing to light how many lives would be lost if I didn't do something soon. Moreover, it was clear that Zephyra's resolve was also beginning to waiver, as she glanced from face to face with uncertainty. All the while, Apollo desperately tried to keep track of every word as he darted from left to right in an effort to translate everything. I heard the Cartographer huff and saw him lean forward, resting his head upon his staff.