Dragon Bow

by Angelique Anderson

“How can this bring peace? I only see death, and no end in sight!”

  When Astrid released another arrow, it veered off course, striking a young soldier in the chest.

  “Astrid, there are elements at play here that you cannot see, things even I myself can’t even see. As long as we are fighting, it can’t take over completely. The moment we stop fighting, the moment we think it’s just as easy as trying to negotiate a peace treaty, we lose. It’s more than that. I don’t know how much more, but as soon as I know... I’ll tell you.”

  “No!” she cried out at what he said. Then watched in dismay, as the young man’s eyes widened, and he fell to the ground. Astrid felt paralyzed as the blood flowed from him, and his face went lifeless. She could feel her heart break, with the knowledge of having taken such a young life.

  “It is not your fault, Astrid. He chose this battle, just as you chose to protect your people.”

  She found no comfort in Aronus’s words.

  2

  Svana

  Anger when checked can be a powerful emotion. It can lead you on a path of justice and righteousness, but unchecked—it can lead you down a sinister path … a path of hate and rage. You must never let your anger take you down the wrong path. Because if you do, all your brain’s sense of worth will be completely diminished.

  Airlyoth, The Warrior, Second Dragon Elder, Third Age of Verdil

  Svana stood, erect, watching as the king charged her. His sword flashed before her eyes, and she deflected with as much skill as she could muster, but it was clear he was a master and she was not. From the moment the king cast his niece, Emmeline, away, ordering her home and charged Svana, she knew she was in the fight of her life. Her only wish in that moment was that she had been given the opportunity to hug her sisters once more, to reassure them that everything they were about to endure was for the betterment of the kingdoms.

  Only, she couldn’t even see her sisters clearly from where she stood. The best she could see was the bright blue and green that had appeared when the Caelestan and Aequoran armies arrived. That image of them, alive and ready to battle would stick with her, as the king raised his sword down upon her head.

  “You will die by my hand, if any!” he yelled out.

  “My king,” she called as she raised her sword in retaliation. “I do not understand.”

  A loud clang reverberated the air, as their swords hit solidly against each other once more.

  “Emmeline said you wanted peace, why did you change your mind?” Svana asked.

  She knew she had come to Telluris to kill him, but she still struggled to understand what had brought about the darkness that had so quickly made itself evident the moment they had arrived on the battlefield.

  He swung his sword low, attempting a thrust at her mid-section but she defended herself, curving her sword down and smacking his weapon to the side.

  “I never wanted peace, stupid girl! I wanted the kingdoms, all the kingdoms, for myself. And now I shall have them!”

  Svana thrust at his side, noting the dark emptiness his eyes had taken, as if all life had been sucked out of them. He deflected her blow, while managing another swing from his blade. His actions were like that of a rabid mad man, and she had to wonder what else was at work. It was evident there was something more.

  “Kill her, kill them all,” he whispered.

  Svana’s head turned to the side as she watched him. His eyes were no longer the beautiful blue they had once been. They grew darker with each passing second. He stepped back, repositioned his sword, and struck again, this time toward Svana’s neck, but she spun around in a circle to dodge the strike entirely.

  “Do not leave this battle until all three sisters are dead,” he whispered.

  Svana’s mouth parted. Her brows furrowed. How had he known about her sisters? His eyes were no longer his own, but entirely black, even the sclera was black instead of white. It was daunting, and if Svana admitted it to herself, terrifying to see only black in the king’s eyes. Something was wrong. He was not himself.

  Another strike of the sword jabbed toward Svana’s chest. She angled herself slightly, bringing her sword down to push the king’s weapon out and away from herself, but she wasn’t fast enough. His sword grazed her side, and she cringed from the pain. She stepped forward, slamming the hilt of her sword into his chin.

  The king cursed as he stepped back and repositioned his sword. He was a formidable enemy, and his skill outweighed hers, but she refused to give up. Svana knew Lingaria would help her. She trusted the dragon would guide her.

  King Armand growled, growing frustrated. His skin turned from pale white to a deep red. His sword form changed from relaxed to enraged. Svana hadn’t studied a lot of different sword forms, but she recognized this one. Raging Bull Kills the Bullfighter.

  His sword slashed through the air at incredible speeds to Svana’s left and right. She barely had the time to adjust her stance to deflect the first few strikes. A tingling inside of her told her that it wasn’t all her. Lingaria was helping her.

  You need to control your stance, Lingaria told her. And I need to teach you more sword forms.

  “Agreed,” Svana whispered through clenched teeth.

  King Armand barely noticed her speaking, though, she did say the words too low for him to hear. They weren’t meant for him. Svana had a hard time concentrating. His sword didn’t cease its momentum, and she was barely keeping up with his strikes.

  Enter Butterfly Touches the Lily Pad, Lingaria said.

  Svana struggled to remember the sword form. Lingaria had taught her many different things along the journey to Telluris, including several sword forms and stances. Svana was already good with a sword, and had learned many fighting styles herself, but she accepted anything else that would improve her performance.

  After a quick moment to recollect the sword form, she had it. She took a step back and waited for the next strike. It came swiftly, toward her left shoulder. She twisted her sword to her side, intercepting the strike, and as she did, she twisted her blade, pushing the cross guard to the king’s blade. Svana withdrew her weapon and stepped back again. The next blow came, again from overhead, and she was able to dodge it by spinning right, bringing her sword with her as she floated to slam it into his hilt.

  Butterfly Touches the Lily Pad was an elegant form, and quite the opposite of the king’s Raging Bull Kills the Bullrider. But that’s what made it work so well. Rather than being chaotic and sporadic, it was calm and collected. A butterfly needed to be careful when landing on lily pads. It needed to use its feelers to drink the water, but it must watch out for frogs. In a similar manner, the sword form was careful, and elegant, and watched out for frogs.

  King Armand growled.

  “I’m trying!” he yelled aloud, prompting Svana’s distraction.

  “What are you trying to do?” she retorted, heart racing at his sudden proclamation. The crazed look in his eye growing more vivid by the moment.

  “Shut up!” he yelled, swinging his blade down once again, and meeting the flesh of her arm.

  Svana yelled out, and took the momentary opportunity to swing low, slicing through his worn leather armor and into his leg. He staggered back, falling onto the ground. By that time, they had moved away from the battle, and were one on one with each other

  She saw a flash of green out of the corner of her eye, but she dared not risk a glance to see if it was her sister. Now, Svana had the advantage. He was wounded. If there was ever an opportunity for her to drive her sword into his chest, it was now. She raised her weapon into the air.

  Anticipating what she planned to do, King Armand rolled swiftly out of the way and in the next moment was back up on his feet.

  She brought her blade down on him, not caring where it landed, only that it drew his blood. He nearly deflected it, but the tip grazed his shoulder.

  “What are you going to do, oh red-haired one? Kill me? Then what? Take over the kingdom? Do you think my people will allow you to rule
them, after you have killed their king? They’ll kill you before they see such a thing happens.”

  He makes a valid point, Svana. Think wisely about what you are about to do. I would urge you to kill him, as there is something here that is just not right. However, my wisdom and advice must fall under the great counsel of Palladin. So, in that spirit... I urge you to do what is best for the kingdom. For all the kingdoms.

  Svana knew she didn’t have much time to waste, with her sword raised high, Armand’s dark eyes and slimy smile only beckoned her to kill him immediately. Svana’s men, long since emerged in battle, had waited until the king’s eyes were averted and fought against their own. Not out of loyalty for Svana, but out of cowardice. They could see with their own eyes, that the Aequorans combined with the Caelestan’s far outnumbered the Tellurian’s, even if their skill for battle may not have been as strong.

  Svana’s thoughts turned to her men. She could hear battle: the yells and loud groans, the clanking of metal upon metal repeating itself over and over. Her heart went out to her sisters, and especially Hekla who had been the most reluctant of all to take this journey.

  “If I don’t kill you, then you will surely see that I am hanged, since you certainly cannot best me with your sword.” She didn’t know if she believed her own words.

  “Insolent child! I will chop you down where you stand!” He took another step forward and screamed into her face.

  “Then why have you been unable to, as of yet?”

  Her question sparked his anger, giving him more fuel to fight with. He came after her, his left leg injured and bleeding, his right arm sliced. Nothing slowed him down.

  “She is not right; I can kill her!” King Armand screamed.

  His attacks came in fast and hard, full of anger and menace. He clenched his teeth and fists around the hilt of his sword, knuckles turning white. Even though his eyes were black, fire burned inside of them. He would not stop until every limb was severed from his body. Svana could see that now. Hatred drove him.

  “What is wrong with you?” Svana asked. “Your people are dying, and before this day is over... You’ll be dead too. Why not put a stop to it, now?”

  “No way in hell!” He swung his blade at her middle again, his arm wavering slightly.

  Svana jumped back out of the way, avoiding the blow easily. “So, you will allow your pride to kill you, and your people?”

  “No, I will not allow pride to. If anything, it will be for honor that I fight for my kingdom and my people will fight to the death, for this land.”

  “You seem so sure that they will remain your people once they learn that you care nothing for their life or well-being,” she retorted, her sword landing another slice into his left arm.

  “Why don’t you just kill me and find out?” he challenged her.

  “I’m trying to show you that bloodshed is not the answer,” she urged.

  “And yet I bleed,”

  “Because you are trying to kill me! You fool! Call off your men, declare peace and I will stop this urgency to end your life.” She stepped away from him several feet so as not to be taken off guard by a surprise attack.

  The king stared right through her, as if he could see her soul. His feet slightly apart, and sword out as he contemplated her offer.

  He stared at her. His eyes softened slightly, but they didn’t lose their menace. He tilted his head, sighed, took a deep breath and stepped toward her. His head continue to tilt backward, as if contemplating the thoughts inside of his head. Svana wondered what thoughts rattled around in there, and truth be told, she feared his thoughts.

  “Svana,” he said, softening his voice slightly, his eyes still blackened by his rage, “I have never wanted peace.” He looked out at the sea of people raging war on one another, and she watched his face. “However, as I stand here... growing weaker from blood loss, I can honestly say that I never wanted this either. I can see the pile of bodies mounting. I know that whoever walks away today, whether it be I and my people, the Caelestan’s or the Aequoran’s, it will not be a win.”

  Even in the softening of his voice, his eyes continued to tell a different story. Svana wanted to believe that he was slowly having a change of heart, but instinct told her that her trusting him would be foolishness to do. She kept her eyes trained on him, even though she wished she could watch the battle just as he was. She worried about Hekla and Astrid, and she worried about her men.

  Tristan! She had forgotten about him. Had he made his way to the battle, and if so, did he now fight against her sister’s people or did he fight against his own. She could ease her own worries, if she could just take a quick look.

  “Svana,” the king dropped his sword to his side. “It is I—I who have done this,” he said sorrowfully, He placed his face in his free hand, shaking his head slightly. Seemingly overcome by grief at the death that now surrounded them all.

  Do I risk it? Is it safe to wager a look?

  I wouldn’t, Svana, I don’t trust him. There is something dark inside of his mind, Lingaria spoke into her head.

  There is indeed something dark that lingers within him. I cannot tell if it is him, or just greed that has gone severely sour, Svana thought to Lingaria.

  “My king, you see the devastation. You see that the body count rises, please... I beg of you... call your people off. Tell them to be at peace, once and for all,” she pleaded with him.

  Svana hoping against hope that the evil the king had exhibited to this point was something that could be reasoned with.

  His features softened, eyes still black, but he extended his free arm out to her.

  “Very well, my dear. Please, I can barely stand. Allow me to lean on you, as we walk back toward the battlefield. I assure you; I will call them off.”

  Wary, but hopeful, she gripped her sword tightly as she linked her arm through his.

  “Thank you, my king. You have my undying, devotion from this moment forward.”

  “Undying?” He stated, and without warning, brought the arm around holding the sword, and though she had not anticipated it, she repeated the action with her own sword. It was enough time to deflect his sword from slicing her clean through, but it did not stop the blade from take a clean slice straight through her side.

  Svana gasped as she collapsed to her knee.

  From the battlefield, Gill who had been fighting against his own people, saw Svana struck, and took off sprinting through the horde of people to reach her.

  “Svana! Nooooooo!” he yelled. His action prompted Jasper to follow, and together they fended off other Tellurians, as they leapt over bodies, and darted around Caelestan’s and Aequoran’s.

  3

  Hekla

  Healing is an extraordinary gift. The power to save someone… or let them die. However, the true testament of a person’s character isn’t which allies they heal, but which enemies.

  Civeress, The Champion-Third Dragon Elder, Forth Age of Verdil

  Hekla had known that bringing her people, the Aequoran’s, into battle would mean that lives would be lost. She never could have anticipated how many lives would be lost, or how many people would be injured. Hekla fought alongside Astrid, striking the Tellurians with her magic. She used every spell at her disposal, conjuring fireballs to drive them back, and ice to freeze them momentarily. Hekla did not know she could perform such spells. Sure, she’d been practicing, but it’d all been over time. She’d never had to use so many spells consistently, and her energy was draining. At times, she deflected sword strikes that came at her with the length of her scepter, saving more of her energy for spells.

  Yet, no matter what she did, the Tellurians advanced, and her people fell to the ground. Some dead, some severely injured. On the ground, the splatter of blood was growing. In areas, pools of blood pooled around fallen bodies of every kingdom’s soldiers. No one was exempt from injury, or death.

  “Astrid, we have to stop this!” she yelled out to her sister, color draining from her face as several sol
diers sliced away at each other. Metal against metal echoing throughout the battlefield. One by one, their bodies toppled to the ground, their flesh growing cold.

  “I don’t think we can. I’m trying to get to Svana, but her and the king keep moving farther and farther away,” Astrid yelled to Hekla, as she loosed an arrow at an oncoming attacker.

  I don’t know what to do! Hekla’s heart hurt at the sight of death that had become so prevalent.

  Use what you have been given, fight if you must, but you can best aid your sisters by healing those who are savable, Speltus’ voice was a comfort above the yells of fighting and dying men.

  Can I do that? She had learned one spell: Morbidum Reversum Ehealerium, but that was only for those on the brink of death and she knew that would suck her life from her. How many lives can I save, before I die?

  Speltus ignored her question, encouraging her instead, you can do anything you choose to do. You are the magic. The magic is you. Reach deep inside, Hekla. It is time for you to be the warrior you were meant to be.

  I suppose it shouldn’t worry me that you didn’t tell me how many lives I could save without killing myself?

  Speltus remained silent, and Hekla turned her focus back to the battle at hand. She knew she was losing precious time, and that the lives of the innocent would not wait. Ignoring his silent request, she kept a close eye on Astrid and Svana, who she was too far away to assist at that moment.

  Astrid moved quick, the movements of her arm as she loosed arrow after arrow, were smooth and fluid. She was unstoppable. It gave Hekla cause to hope. If they could limit the death toll, they could make it out of there. They could fight for unity.

  Hekla’s brilliant sapphire orb searched the grounds quickly for who was injured. Those who had died had ashen faces and rigid bodies. Hekla knew they were beyond help, but she could heal those who were injured. At least, she had to try. Near her, an Aequoran groaned in pain, twitching from side to side. Hekla ran to his side.