by Terah Edun
The dragons of Sahalia were just as fond of referring to their human allies as snacks. Sahalian dragons were immortal, powerful, and vain creatures. Their pride was said to be their weakness. In Ciardis’s awestruck mind it could only be their strength. The dragon in front of her was gorgeous.
And heading straight into the open water. What could it be thinking? It would fall directly into the water. If the envoy drowned, relations between the Algardis Empire and Sahalia would be ruined.
In the back of her mind she noted that her hand was gripping another with the strength of death. Glancing down, she saw it was Sebastian’s. She didn’t remember grasping his. Reluctantly she started to pull away. She felt his hand flex in what suspiciously felt like a squeeze. “Relax,” he said while squeezing her hand again. She wondered absentmindedly if his hand was spasming...apparently not quietly enough. His amusement rolled through their mind link as he said, “The Sahalian dragons know what they’re doing.”
“I don’t think he does. The Sahalian envoy is heading directly for the open water. With his size and the wings as an encumbrance, he’ll drown. Are you willing to risk the fragile peace between our two empires if that happens?”
Frowning, Ciardis continued to peer doubtfully at the approaching dragon. It was coming in quite fast, although it was still a long distance off.
He chuckled while unlocking her fingers.
“No one will drown; just watch.”
The closer it flew, the more of its wingspan she could admire. Mighty horns arrayed the top of its head like a crown. From wingtip to wingtip, the dragon was easily the size of the three-masted ship she stood on. Each wing had a fine bone structure, like the bats that dwelled deep in the mountain caves of Vaneis and only emerged at night to hunt the bugs in the countryside. Between the bones of the wings was webbed skin on the underside and layered scales on the other. The scales on its belly and neck were a luminescent pearl color while the scales on its back, wings, legs, and head were the same shade of green she’d admired earlier.
It was a beautiful sight to see.
Sebastian called out to the Weather Mage, “Extend the shield by another twenty feet into the ocean and steady the ship.”
Nervously the man nodded, perspiration dripping down his forehead in the dry confines of the wind shield he’d erected. The other people beneath the shield, even Ciardis, were dry and warm.
Perhaps the momentousness of the occasion was making the man nervous?
It wasn’t often that a Sahalian dragon made an appearance anywhere near the Algardis Empire. They didn’t view humans as equals, and given the history between Sahalia and Algardis after the empire’s founding, preferred to stay away. Ciardis eyed the Weather Mage more closely. Her mouth set in a thin line as she glanced back and forth between the oncoming dragon and the man set to smooth its way. She was loath to take her eyes from the magnificent dragon but the Weather Mage looked almost...ill.
He stood, swaying slightly, as if the spell he’d made to steady the ship had no effect on him. Pulling a looped chain from under his robes, he picked up the talisman at the end. The Weather Mage stepped forward through the edge of the wind shield and into the downpour on the deck. Once he reached the ship’s rails, he lifted his hands from the talisman and pushed outward. As his hands pushed outward, the sleeting rain surrounding him arced backward as if pushed by an invisible wall. Quickly the wind shield grew larger, encompassing first the entire ship and then the ocean immediately surrounding it in a circle.
With a short nod to himself, the Weather Mage licked his finger and held it up to the sky. Was he testing the wind? Or changing the current with such a simple gesture? It didn’t look like anything significant was happening. He licked his lips nervously and Ciardis knew something was wrong.
No, thought Ciardis. He’s stalling.
And yet he’d completed one task successfully. She slipped into her mage sight to get a gauge on his core. Even from a distance she could see the power in his mage core dwindling rapidly. The Weather Mage couldn’t possibly be able to stabilize such a turbulent natural force as the ocean in the midst of a gale. She wasn’t an expert on weather magic but even she could see that he couldn’t do another task as momumental as the one asked of him with his depleted core.
The next minute, the Weather Mage stepped back from the rail and looked over his shoulder at the gathered retinue. He gave a short bow to the assembled group, specifically looking at Prince Heir Sebastian for acknowledgement.
Sebastian gave a short nod in return and turned aside to speak with the waiting general of the Imperial forces. The Weather Mage turned back to his task, and just for a moment, fear swept over his face. He picked up the talisman again. Even though he was still facing her, Ciardis couldn’t see the markings on the disc he held at the end of a length of a gold chain. She wasn’t close enough to figure out if it was the relic she thought it was, and, more importantly, if it stored magic.
Glancing sideways, Ciardis noted that Sebastian was still speaking quietly with his compatriot. She decided to see if she could escape notice and leave. Unfortunately for her, while she and Sebastian had been apart for weeks, he was just as aware of her every movement now as he had been when they’d been miles underground in the vale near the White Mountains while trying to reach the cavern of the Land Wight.
He didn’t move an inch but she felt his presence reach out. They couldn’t talk mind-to-mind now that he’d released her hand. But she could still sense his concern. Oddly enough, that momentary feeling of worry was enough to soothe her anxiety about them. It showed that underneath that cold, princely exterior he hadn’t changed. He was still the same boy she’d walked through fire for. Although he managed to surprise her this time. Months of no contact and it was almost like they hadn’t been apart at all. With a wicked grin that he couldn’t see, as he was still turned aside to face his compatriot, she opened her thoughts and send him a mixture of emotions—happiness and a wicked sense of amusement.
Don’t worry. I won’t get into too much trouble, she thought fondly at him. She knew he wouldn’t be able to hear her thought, but still, the emotions would flow through the link.
Firmly, she elected to focus on the present and pushed the swirl of feelings from Sebastian away. As they faded, the dread that pooled in her stomach began to take precedence. Taking in the Weather Mage’s shaken form, she realized she had a bad feeling about this...a very bad feeling. Edging sideways with a whispered, “Excuse me, pardon me,” she eased around the gathered officials and towards the Weather Mage’s side.
He didn’t look any better close up. Practically shaking in his unsteady stance. Reaching out a hand instinctively, she sought to steady him as she asked, “Sir, are you unwell?”
“Back away,” snapped the perspiring mage. “How dare you interrupt a solemn ceremony?”
“I came to see if you were able to finish. You don’t look well.”
“This is none of your concern, child.”
“I beg your pardon? I am offering to help you.”
He gripped the talisman in his hand so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear. The aid of the Companions’ Guild is not necessary here. Dismissed.”
Back stiff at the censure Ciardis returned to her place at the Prince Heir’s side. She smoothed her face over as she passed Linda Firelancer’s position among the group. Before she could pass her completely, Linda swiftly grabbed Ciardis’s hand and said, “What did you see?”
“Nothing, I thought the Weather Master was unwell. I must have been mistaken.”
Turning to look at the man, the Fire Mage said quietly, “And perhaps not. Some people don’t know how to ask for help. And some people are forever too proud to accept it.”
“Stand here. Wait for my signal,” the Fire Mage said.
Linda walked over with a no-nonsense look on her face to the Weather Mage’s side. He had yet to follow the Prince Heir’s second command to steady the ship, which was swaying side-to-s
ide erratically. And the wind shield was beginning to falter, as well. To make matters worse, holes were forming in the shield and gusts of sharp wind and rain would come through the holes and rip across the deck in a fury. As people started to stumble back and forth, they began to murmur disparagingly about the talents of the hired Weather Mage.
Ciardis was more worried about his health than talent. Any mage under this much stress, battling Mother Nature herself to force calm when the weather was anything but still, would need to be an excellent practitioner, powerful and prepared. And this man seemed to be anything but ready for the task. As Ciardis watched the planks across the decks tremble, she noted that the Weather Mage seemed to be losing his grip. Whatever Linda was going to do, Ciardis hoped she was able to do it fast.
Meanwhile, a second roar shattered Ciardis’s focus on the Weather Mage and brought it back abruptly to their oncoming guest. Staring at the dragon Ciardis saw the most curious thing. It was hovering. Its wings weren’t moving and neither were its legs. How the massive beast was staying in the air was a mystery to her. But she decided to file that away for another time. It was still vocalizing its displeasure. Ciardis wasn’t exactly sure what the dragon was roaring about. She spoke Sahalian, thanks to a certain Companion, but this roar wasn’t in the dragon tongue of the Sahalian courts with the fluid language and subtle hisses of its consonants. No, this was primal. The roar was the natural language of one dragon to another, and something that no other being could translate. That didn’t mean she didn’t understand anger when she heard it.
And then suddenly it was moving again. The dragon banked its wings and prepared to land on the water. Incoming with its wings spread like that, it looked like it planned to grab onto the ship with the claws and rend it to pieces or so sink it, whichever came first. No one on the deck looked anything but calm. Ciardis tried to emulate their serene, well-practiced looks, but she wasn’t a convincing liar on her best days. In fact, she’d been told quite a few times that the only reason she hadn’t been outright assassinated was because her enemies were convinced she couldn’t manipulate herself, let alone someone else. She’d like to keep it that way. She had enough problems as it was with people trying to kill Sebastian without adding her own assassination to the list.
Then the dragon began to glow.
Ciardis went pale. He was about to cast a spell. Secret glances at the honor guard around her, including three battle mages, told her that they weren’t worried. Their visages were calm and steady, each stood with hands folded in front of them, and all courteous attention was being paid to the dragon envoy. That didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. Then suddenly a small ball of blue flame winked into existence at her feet and winked out again just as quickly. Ciardis was certain she was the only one who had seen the flame appear and disappear.
She glanced over at Linda’s direction and saw her pointedly staring at her. I guess that was my signal to get over there.
Chapter 3
As she joined Linda’s side, she heard her speaking in a low voice to the Weather Mage.
It was in Sahalian, but she caught most of it.
“This Weathervane might be the only thing standing between you and the next world, Marcus,” Linda said while nodding to Ciardis, “We can’t afford to loose another mage. Not if we want our numbers to stay strong. Strong enough to defeat the hordes in the North.”
The man looked over at her with bloodshot eyes. He sucked in a breath and broke once more into a chanting trance. When he awakened, if he awakened, his choice would be clear. Taking Ciardis’s hand, Linda Firelancer shared her mage vision. His aura was fading and his core was depleting.
It was the first time she’d seen a mage dying.
The man’s breath was shallow, his magic erratic, his pulse fading, and still he hesitated. Ciardis reached forward hesitantly to grasp his hand. To give him what he couldn’t ask for because of his damn pride. And then Linda caught her wrist in a bruising grip. She hadn’t moved. Her face was still turned to the Weather Mage’s as she sought to tell him a story of sacrifice and pride with just her eyes.
But the grip she held Ciardis’s hand in was iron tight. In her mind, Ciardis heard the Fire Mage speaking.
Never, Ciardis, Linda said, never interrupt a dying mage, not unless you want to die alongside them. If he rises from the trance, he will make his choice.
Ciardis couldn’t pull her hands from Linda’s grip and couldn’t take her eyes off of the Weather Mage. Occasional drifts of wind blew her hair in her face and she didn’t move. She was silent as raindrops began to pelt their skin. She didn’t answer as the retinue began to question their stillness. Her eyes and Linda’s stayed firmly fixed upon the man before them. The man who had a choice to live or die. To accept help or to put his pride before his downfall.
She felt her breath become slower. Minutes passed that felt like hours.
And then he was conscious, opening his eyes and emerging from the trance. With a slow breath he reached a shaky hand forward and grasped Ciardis’s. Linda’s shoulders relaxed and she looked as if the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She nodded to Ciardis.
With a rush of power, Ciardis replenished the mage’s lagging store. Together they fixed the wind shield, pushing it outward and making it stronger. With a squeeze of her hand, he said, “I’m going to dive into the sea with my power and still the waters. The currents are swift and they are strong. Magically and physically. You shall act as my anchor, but if anything goes wrong, you are to let me go. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Ciardis nodded.
He looked out over the ocean with a fond and tired smile, “Weather is a particularly difficult power to master and manipulate. I don’t know what you’ve been told. But mages do not forsake that oath. In every instance the younger mage is to take all precautions to protect their lives. I expect you to do the same.”
“She will,” Linda said with strength in her voice. “I will be here to assure that she does.”
And then it began. Ciardis felt the pull from his magic to hers. He began drawing immense amounts as he shot down in a spiral—no, a maelstrom—of power into the element of water. She watched as he wove her enhancement power into his spool of power. He began to weave the two cords together in a simple stitch that fell into the wild and chaotic swirl of power that was the water element. No matter how much power he had, she instinctively knew that it wouldn’t be able to harness water. Not this fierce and wild beauty that moved with the freeness of a spirit in the ocean.
She felt him change tactics. Instead of trying to harness the water element, the Weather Mage began to coax it into playing a game. With flashes of lightning emitting from his fingertips and a calm soothing voice he called it closer. And closer it came until it was near enough that he could entrap it a complex web. Rather it was a game with an intricate stack of layer upon layer of flashing lightning. The elemental didn’t even notice when the web began to close around it. It was too entranced in playing as it bounced from point to point on the web and gave the Weather Mage the time he needed to still the waters surrounding the ship.
He began to tie off the ends of the magic neatly to form a self-sustaining cradle that would feed the elemental’s desire for the quest until the web dissipated. Back in her body, Ciardis blinked and stared into the concerned eyes of the Weather Mage and the Fire Mage. They stood in a tight circle.
In a low voice Linda said “Everything all right?”
“Fine,” said Ciardis faintly.
“Good,” the Weather Mage said with a curtness that Ciardis tried not to take offense at.
With a push, Linda sent Ciardis back to Prince Heir Sebastian’s side.
Turning back to their guest, she put her thoughts on the Weather Mage’s illness aside before Sebastian could pick up on it. In front of her she took in the dragon envoy. This dragon, all dragons, were from Sahalia. They nested nowhere else. No one knew why. Sahalia was an empire far off in the Western Sea, ruled by a loose amalgamation
of a dozen families united only in the belief in the supremacy of dragons above all other species and a firm desire to wrest more power and wealth for themselves. For thousands of years, dragons had not left their empire’s shores. They’d seen no reason to leave the comfort of their homes for distant lands and certainly wouldn’t cross an ocean to do it. Even now they tended to avoid the lands of Algardis because of the Initiate Wars centuries earlier.
Their primary reason for being homebound?
Laziness.
The ocean trek would require a large amount of magical power and three days of constant flight to reach land. In fact, it hadn’t been until five centuries ago, almost two hundred years after the founding of the Empire and the Great War and three years before the start of the Initiate Wars, that many dragons began making the journey across the waters from Sahalia to Algardis. The merchants on both sides of the sea were ecstatic; trade was the best it had been since the founding of the empire.
It wasn’t until an intrepid dragon explorer, known as the Wanderer, had left Sahalia and returned to its shores with human followers that the journey across the ocean began to hold any interest for the ruling Sahalian families. To put it bluntly, the Wanderer came back with an oddity: humans. All the dragons soon wanted their own. First, the humans brought back on the long cross-ocean voyage started out as pampered pets, and then rapidly became servants to dragons who wanted their every whim catered to from trimming their nails to buffing their scales.
But there was also something weird in the rapid change of direction from ignoring Algardis to a sudden desire for a flurry of travel across the large ocean. Greed was one thing; ability quite another. Why was the voyage so easy for the dragons now? Even the less powerful dragons were able to make the journey. Ciardis had this question on her mind as she watched the dragon flap its wings and dispel the hovering state it was in. It was too large to land on the ship’s deck—that had been established. And then she felt its power rise again. First it was like pinpricks on her skin. Feeling the uncomfortable sensation, she tried to rub it away like an itch, but it only spread. She could tell Sebastian felt it, too.