by Linn Tesli
Niila tripped and almost fell as the earth shook beneath her feet. The trees stirred, as if an invisible force tried to shake them from the ground. Trees were cracking and falling throughout the forest. A swarm of birds bounded from the canopies, rushing toward her. She ducked as the birds swooped past overhead. Then a large shadow spread before her. A pair of massive pearl-white wings arched out over the fallen trees as a dragon appeared.
Niila stumbled forward into the middle of the clearing as the dragon descended in front of her.
“My Queen.” The dragon’s velvet voice reverberated in Niila’s mind.
A throng of elves came sprinting from between the trees, arrows nocked. They all froze as they laid eyes on the dragon.
“They want to kill me,” Niila whispered.
The dragon had its wings around Niila in a heartbeat.
“If anyone here breaks even a drop on my queen’s skin, I will decimate your entire village.” The thunder of her voice was strangely comforting.
“At ease,” Lutherian called somewhere beyond the shelter of the dragon’s wings. “We don’t wish to anger a dragon. We will lay down arms and stop the hunt.”
Niila threw her arms over the dragon’s scales, hugging it as best she could. This had to be Jormundra. She could feel the connection like a flood of waves binding them together, though it wasn’t as strong as she had imagined it would be. The binding of her own powers must have weakened their bond.
“You found me,” she cried.
“My Queen.” Jormundra slanted her head down between her wings. “I came as soon as I could. I felt your distress, though I fear I’m too late.”
“You’re just in time,” Niila whispered.
“Peace.” Haiz’s voice sent a tremor through Niila’s bones. “What is your name, dragon?”
“Jormundra.”
“We welcome you, Jormundra. Niila broke one of our sacred traditions and so, by law, we hunted her. It seems she won and survived. We will lay down our weapons, which will end the hunt, and we welcome you both to feast in our village. The wild elves rejoice in your return, Jormundra.”
Jormundra folded one wing underneath Niila and lifted the girl to sit on her shoulder. It wasn’t as comfortable as a horse’s back; it was more like sitting on stone. Niila adjusted herself, holding onto one of the many spikes on the sides of Jormundra’s neck.
A band of maybe fifty elves knelt on the ground below, Lutherian and Haiz included.
Niila tapped Jormundra’s scales.
“Yes?” the dragon asked.
“Tell them to unbind my powers,” Niila thought to her. She had not known she could do it. But it felt right.
The dragon adjusted her stance. “You need to give my queen her powers back.”
Haiz stood, moving closer. “I’m afraid that isn’t an option. Even if I wanted to, I don’t have the skills to unbind them. I bound her element to her spirit. The only way I know how to unbind them is through her death.”
Niila gripped the spike tighter. Her death? But Haiz had said she could get her powers back if she abandoned Kenith. She had said her powers would return. Surely, she had not meant by dying? There had to be some other way.
“There has to be a way that does not require her life,” Jormundra growled.
“I would think there is, but not one I know.”
“What do you think?” Jormundra’s voice was a whisper in Niila’s mind.
Niila shook. “I want to leave, but I have to wait for Kenith.”
“Kenith? The young fire born?” Jormundra flared her nostrils. “So, history does repeat itself.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that? What history?”
“In short, the Old King of Fire and the Old Queen of Water were lovers, as were Fyrax and I.”
Niila nearly toppled off the dragon’s shoulder. She hadn’t known, though it would explain a lot.
The dragon angled her head back to look at Niila with gentle ice-blue eyes. “Are you sure you wish to stay? We could fly home, you know.”
Home! It was tempting, but she had given Kenith a promise to help him. Her desires could wait, and with Jormundra by her side, perhaps they could stand a better chance at achieving their goals, not to mention finding a way to unbind her element. Niila nodded.
“We accept,” Jormundra boomed at the assemblage. “Though I will hold you to your word, or you can be sure that I will keep mine!”
Haiz bowed lower. “We are honored.”
“Don’t trust that one,” Niila thought to Jormundra.
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
The dragon rose, arching her wings as she bounced to the sky. Niila crawled further up on Jormundra’s back to sit at the nape of her neck. The scales made the climb easier. The tree line stretched out below, and the wind tugged gently at her hair. She had sailed through the sky before, and though flying on a griffin was a calming experience, it didn’t compare to the might of a dragon’s wings cutting through the sky, nor the vibrations running through her body with every beat. The view was like nothing Niila had ever experienced. They soared further up than the griffins did. Griffin Peak rose tall north-east of them, and behind them, Vulkan Mountain stood surrounded by smog, a fire blasting from the heart of the mountain. Fyrax wasn’t that far away, though distances somehow felt shorter from the air.
“Do you miss him?” Niila asked.
“Fyrax?” There was a certain sadness to her voice. “Perhaps a little, though the things he did… I do not think I can ever forgive him.”
“There’s much for us to catch up on, Jormundra.”
“There is, though right now, I’m happy to have found you, My Queen.”
“I’m so happy you found me, too. You saved my life today. Thank you!”
Niila felt a surge of bliss in her veins. Though her powers were bound, it was as though Jormundra somehow brought a part of it back, even if she didn’t own it herself. Perhaps Jormundra would know how to unbind her element, and once Kenith sat on his throne, they could go home. Even if that meant leaving Kenith behind. It was perhaps inevitable, and if history had ended badly before, who was to say it would not end the same way this time around?
Niila hugged the dragon’s neck. As far away from home as she was, this was the closest she had come in a while.
21
PEARL
-Kenith –
Kenith skipped down the path ahead, eager to get back and tell Niila about what he had witnessed. The elven village appeared between the trees, and he picked up speed. He ran out of the tree line, zigzagging between the dwellings. A large mass of what looked like white marble stone rose in front of him, in the center of the village. One large wing stretched out, before the dragon lifted her head.
A dragon! Kenith stopped in his tracks. The pearl dragon of Ûnda? It had to be.
He smiled broadly and sauntered forward. The pearl dragon would be a great advantage in the war to come.
Niila walked out from behind the dragon. They locked eyes, and he sprinted forward again. He threw his arms around her, spinning her in circles before planting a kiss on her lips. He put her down. The kiss wasn’t what he had expected. She was distant, cold somehow. Not that he felt cold, but he could not deny that was what this appeared to be.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Niila backed away to lean on the dragon’s scales.
“Hello, Kenith,” the dragon said, angling her head his way.
“Hi.” Kenith shook his head. “Pleased to meet you, though I’m not sure what’s wrong with this picture.” He forced his eyes away from the dragon to look at the one person in Aradria who mattered to him. “Will you tell me what’s wrong?”
Niila began crying, a steady stream of tears running down her cheeks. “They bound my powers,” she sobbed.
“They did what?” A spark of fire ignited inside, and a tendril of flame shot out to encircle his body.
“I disturbed some sacred ritual, but I was only trying to help.”
/> Kenith brought the flames back inside and took Niila in his arms again, stroking her hair. His trip had given him much better control of his powers, and he wanted to share, though this didn’t appear to be the right moment for sharing his enthusiasm.
Jormundra lowered her head, her eyes almost level with Kenith’s. “They punished her for saving a life by binding her powers, and then they hunted her down with arrows. Had I not arrived when I did, she would be dead. And had you not left, they would not have hunted her at all.”
“You’re blaming me?” Kenith held Niila more tightly. She was still sobbing into his chest.
“You weren’t here.” Niila lifted her chin. “I tried to help, and in return, they took my powers away. They wouldn’t have done that if you had been here.”
“I don’t know what to say. I had no idea the elves would do this to you.”
Niila wrenched herself out of his arms. “But you left me alone with them, even after I insisted on coming with you.”
“I… I had to go. You don’t understand. The things that I’ve seen. I know my path now.”
“Well, great. At least one of us still has a path to follow.”
Kenith reached for her, but Niila backed into the bend of Jormundra’s neck.
“You’re brilliant, with or without your powers.” Kenith didn’t know what else he could say to comfort her. He had never been good at dealing with these things.
“My element has abandoned me, and you think I can still feel whole?” Niila stomped off and disappeared underneath the dragon’s neck.
Kenith began to follow her when Jormundra dumped her body flat to the ground. “She needs some time, fire born. However, it’s good that you have returned.”
“What can I do?”
“I told you. Time. You didn’t do this to her, though you are in part an elf—and they follow you. If you had not left her when you knew they did not approve of her, then this would not have happened. That is the truth, no matter how it stings. But she knows how you feel about her, and she has not stopped loving you. Trust me, I should know.” Jormundra chuckled. “I feel all that she does. It is both a burden and a gift.”
Kenith dropped to his bottom, searching for a twig in the moss. His fingers finally caught hold of one, and he stuck it between his teeth.
“I’ve learned so much about myself, and all I wanted was to share it with her.”
The dragon slapped him on the back with the tip of a wing. “This isn’t about you. But you’d best find a way to leave this place as soon as you can. It’s toxic for a water born.”
“I will. The elves have promised to fight with me. There is an army of the dead to deal with, and a mad dragon I need to get to.”
“Fyrax.” Jormundra’s double lids folded over her eyes and she purred. “I have not seen him for so long. I’m not sure if I want to either. My queen and I must discuss it. As long as her powers are bound, she should not join your fight.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that perhaps it would be best if I took Niila home, or at the very least to Êvina. I understand Ûnda is not faring as well as it once was either.”
Kenith spat out a piece of the twig and stood. Neither of them wanted to stay and fight with him?
“Tell Niila I’ll be sleeping in the dwelling we were given when we arrived. I would be happy if she joined me.”
“I will tell her, though it will be her choice to join you. Or not.”
Kenith walked away from the pearl dragon. Her immense body filled the entire center of the village where the elves came to feast, her tail turning this way and that through the nearby dwellings.
He couldn’t have known what would happen to Niila when he left, and she had been warned not to interfere in elven matters, though binding her powers and hunting her seemed like a severe punishment. He would have to address the issue with Haiz and Yarix in the morning, along with everything else they needed to talk about. He didn’t want Niila to leave, though perhaps Jormundra was right. It would be safer for her someplace else. However much he wanted her by his side, he wanted her to stay alive more. How did he even begin to fight those already dead?
Kenith shook himself and found his way into the dwelling he had shared with Niila. He had thought she would be there with him that night. She never came.
- Kenith -
They had all convened where the dragon rested. Niila sat on Jormundra’s front paw, while Haiz, Lutherian, and Yarix were bent over a carving of Lycobris. Kenith had been walking in circles around them, explaining everything about how they had seen the dead rise from the ground.
“Quidel Palignacia Canicus cailian,” Lutherian said.
“The ciadèd cailân? Born of fire? The burnt children?” Niila asked.
Kenith wrinkled his forehead.
”That’s what we would call them, water born.” Yarix shrugged. “Our scouts have already informed us of the army who marched for Vulkan Mountain. You can’t very well miss a throng of dead people.”
Kenith sank back onto a stump. ”Who is their command? Do we know? Someone has to be.”
”They call her Xicayla.”
”The bringer of death.” Niila clasped a hand in front of her mouth.
Kenith picked up a twig and nibbled on it. ”Encouraging. Though, was she the one who, you know, rose them?” His mind raced as he came to discover the horrifying truth of his new enemies. He had created them. He didn’t know how, but somehow he had to have made it happen when he escaped from the burning orphanage where he grew up. The one they now named Xicayla had been the head of his orphanage, Miss Daeyna. She’d been bad enough when she had been mortal. This new thing Daeyna had become was something far worse. He had already killed her once. But how would they fight her off when she was already dead? He shuddered. He might have started it all, but he didn’t wake them up, did he?
Haiz had one hand clasped around her chin, the other resting on the carved map. “It has to be a sorcerer’s doing, though we aren’t sure who.”
“There have been rumors that the dragon doesn’t fly alone.” Lutherian bent forward, studying the carvings.
Kenith dropped the twig from his mouth. “Who would fly him? I mean, who would he even allow to fly him?” No one should be flying on Fyrax besides him. It made no sense.
“They say he has silver skin,” Lutherian murmured.
Niila came to stand beside Kenith. She took his hand. He squeezed it gently and sighed—she had not given up on him yet.
“A Silverling!” Niila stepped closer. “Why would a Silverling be riding a dragon? They have no history of friendships with dragons, one way or the other.”
Yarix nodded. “Quite right, water born. They don’t, and we simply do not know. However, let’s deal with the things we do know. Kenith must take his throne. To do that, we must defeat an army of the dead, Vulkan eagles, the Vaexennas, then Lord Hadeth and of course, somehow get past a dragon.”
“No need to defeat Lord Hadeth at least.” A familiar voice issued from behind the dragon. Gaija strolled past Jormundra’s shoulder, approaching the group. “Lord Hadeth has been defeated. There is a new regent in Lycobris.”
“Who?” Kenith asked.
“Zarcos.”
“What?” Niila let go of Kenith’s hand and returned to sit on the dragon’s paw. “But why? And how?”
“It seems Zarcos has somehow made the dragon believe he’s the new fire born, and they have forged a bond, though how exactly is unclear to me.” Gaija turned to Jormundra, smiling crookedly. “Nice to see you again, pearl.”
“Shaman.” Jormundra snorted. “I cannot say the same.”
“I never thought you’d sleep for as long as you did, though I do have a peace offering. When you fell asleep, so did your eggs.”
Jormundra lifted her neck and sat, her eyes wide and her scales glowing.
“My eggs!”
“I kept the one I could find safe for you, and I have a hunch as to where the others are.”
<
br /> Niila jumped off the dragon and skipped over to Gaija. “Where is it?”
Gaija patted the haversack in her hands.
“Right here.” She opened the haversack and retrieved a large pink shell.
“My baby!” Jormundra’s tongue stuck out to fold around the shell. She lifted it to her and placed it carefully on the ground at her feet. With one talon, she popped the shell open. A watery glow danced on her scales as a giant white pearl was revealed inside.
Kenith gaped. It was no pearl at all; it was a dragon’s egg.
Jormundra closed the shell again, pushing it underneath her. “I’m in your debt, shaman. I thought I had lost my eggs forever.”
“Us elves have a kinship with the dragons. It’s always been in our nature to serve you, and once I discovered where your egg was, I made sure that I kept it safe until the day you returned.”
Kenith kicked a foot in the dirt. “That egg is over a thousand years old. Wouldn’t it have hatched by now?”
“Silly.” Niila laughed. “It’s like time stood still for all the dragons. It didn’t hatch because it hasn’t grown. But now, eventually, it will.”
Jormundra purred. “It takes some time, but now that I have it here, I can take it someplace safe. Will you join me, My Queen?”
Niila stopped smiling. Her gaze shifted between Kenith and the dragon. The expression on her face was enough for Kenith to know that there was only one answer to this.
He sighed. “If you must go, you should.”
“I don’t wish to leave you.”
“I’ve got plenty of help, and you’ll return to me when you can. That egg is our responsibility as much as the rest of Aradria is. And you can’t leave your dragon. I understand.”
The coolness of her skin collided with the heat of his body as Niila flung her arms around him. The sweet scent of honey emanated from her hair, and he drew the scent of her into his lungs. He didn’t wish for her to go, though he had to try at least to act the king he was trying to become.