Emperor Forged

by K D Robertson

  Then the wave of black was sucked within my sword, and all was well. I kept moving toward Lyria, bounding over the rubble.

  She took to the air, her wings still functional despite the damage to the rest of her body. Dragonfire raced down at me. I cursed. I was useless here, and Miya needed time to charge her spells. This was a smart move by Lyria, who was still demonstrating why she was marshal even when pushed into a corner. Ballista bolts began to pelt her scales, and I saw one sink into her, then heard her whine and twist in pain. Without her scales, she wasn’t as immune to attack like before.

  But she was still Lyria, and she was still angry. She ignored the pain and turned back toward us. She dove down, flinging a black orb at me and belching fire from her maw. All I could do was curse and bear this barrage.

  The golden barrier of light I projected caught the orb of disintegration, but I nearly buckled under the pressure of holding back both it and the fire. I crashed to the ground, my knee slamming through a piece of stone. Crying out in pain as my nerves screamed, I watched as Lyria descended toward Miya. The oni trusted me to protect her and continued to prepare her spells. She couldn’t move until she released them.

  This was bad. This was very, very bad.

  I shot to my feet, activating my momentum rune to close the gap. A tail shot overhead, but I ducked under it. Lyria turned and arced more fire at me. Would she ever run out? No, actually. She was big and ugly enough to have an active level of magic generation to keep her running essentially forever. Only when she pulled stunts like projecting that barrier or firing three spells in quick succession did she really draw on her reserves.

  Putting myself between Lyria and Miya, I realized that there couldn’t be much time left. Lyria knew it as well. Black blades began to pop into existence in front of her while one of her claws held a crackling black orb. Dragonfire sizzled in her mouth. I braced, both of us knowing I didn’t have the power to withstand this. The blades would shatter first and take my barrier with it. Then Miya and I would die.

  Lyria flung her spells at me, her dragonfire surging down at me along with it.

  My sword glowed. Just one rune was active on it. I swung in an arc toward Lyria’s body, toward the blades, and through the incoming fire.

  The black shock wave that burst from my sword consumed everything she threw at me, including her look of confusion. It struck her foot and brought her crashing down in pain. She finally understood what I had done as her own spell ate away at the magic in her body. I had returned her disruption spell from earlier and it had ruined all of her magic.

  I looked back at Miya, who was lining up her shot.

  Opening her mouth, Lyria breathed not fire but magic. An orb, as black as always, shot out from it.

  The red beam of light pierced the orb and crashed straight into the dragon. Then my vision burst into black light, the disintegration magic taking as much of the world around me with it as it could. I wouldn’t let it take this opportunity from me. Slamming power into my sword, I cleaved through the light with my runes.

  Then I leaped through the burning magic, feeling my body tingle all over as the runes on my armor did everything they could to keep me alive. Finally, I was out. I was in the descent, vision returning.

  Below me was my target. She had collapsed, and in her chest was a gaping wound that oozed blood. One golden eye stared up at me.

  I held my sword high as I came down toward her neck, runes flaring. Her head was mine.

  Stone burst into dust as I crashed into the ground, the dragon gone from sight in an instant. I blinked. Had she…

  There, a figure in a dress and mangled pieces of armor, stood in the dust. Lyria had transformed at the last second. Her human body had appeared right at her center of mass, far away from me, given how enormous she was. But she was bleeding, covered in scars, and on the verge of collapse. If I waited, she would hurl her magic at us and be as dangerous in human form as in dragon form. I could end this with a single blink of my momentum rune.

  The dust cleared. I froze.

  Her long black hair flowed behind her, and she wore a red dress that was nearly torn to ribbons but hugged her figure well. She’d never been one for a uniform and cared for armor even less so. Or maybe the armor had gone missing because we hurt her so much while she was in her dragon form. There was so much blood on her, and scars ran down her chest and face. But what I saw was so like who she was all those years ago.

  The soft golden eyes were like they had always been. There were tears in them.

  I stared at her. She stared back, a grimace on her face.

  “Damn you, Mykah,” Lyria said, her voice audible only thanks to the enhanced hearing of my helmet.

  A snap of magic behind me. Miya fired and Lyria reacted with one of her trademark black orbs. The world between us disintegrated, and Lyria was gone by the time it returned.

  I stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching as the Empire’s troops fled past us. The battle was won, Lyria was defeated, and Talepolis had been held.

  Lyria still lived. Somehow, I didn’t regret it.

  Chapter 39

  “You should be drinking more, boss. Everybody should be drinking more,” Hish shouted, forcing tankards of ale into my hands and those of anybody who got too close to the very drunk oni. She and her company took the celebrations very seriously, at least as far as it concerned getting everybody very drunk.

  It was well past midnight, now technically the day after Lyria’s attack. My soldiers were still celebrating ceaselessly. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to pay for the alcohol. My soldiers were unconcerned with the source of the alcohol, but I cared. Some of what they were drinking was bound to be very expensive and it was easy for the merchants to know who to send the bill to.

  That would be tomorrow’s headache. And by tomorrow, I meant today now. Damn.

  For all the damage the city had taken, it truly was a time to celebrate. At least for us. For the first time since I had struck a deal with the oni, the clock had stopped. The imminent threat of Lyria swooping down and burning down everything we had built was gone. She had been defeated, her army routed. Two dragons were dead in the streets and two more were captured.

  This was a lasting victory against the Rogistran Empire for my army.

  The citizens of Talepolis were less happy, besides the merchants selling us food and alcohol in the wee hours of the morning. Anybody with food or liquor to sell was absolutely thrilled. I might be paying for tonight’s celebrations out of my pocket, but it was worth it to see everybody celebrating. The main streets looked like an all-night market more normally seen in much larger cities farther west. A lot of paychecks were being spent, and the oni were familiarizing themselves with the fact that they were now being paid.

  “Money can be exchanged for goods and services,” Terry joked with Yasno before nearly choking on his drink in drunken laughter. That was a line that had been oft-repeated tonight. The oni were unfamiliar with currency. They knew what it was but that was it. Knowing and using were two different things, particularly when their civilization was practically wiped out three centuries ago.

  Despite the damage Lyria had done to the outer portion of the city, this was a victory well-earned. Casualties among the populace were far lower than I had feared might be the case, given Lyria’s tendencies. In the citadel’s library were books that contained references to Lyria killing tens of thousands, if not more, in sieges. Whatever the final count ended up being, it would not be anywhere near that high.

  “So, Ilsa, what was the final dragon count?” I asked her, making my way over to her. She and Miya had found their way into a quieter corner, away from the rowdy oni and definitely far from Hish.

  “Five, as you suspected,” she said.

  “I meant how many did you take down,” I corrected with a smile.

  “Ha. None. At least not directly. Hish and Yasno get all the credit,” Ilsa said, her face taut as she grimaced behind her tankard.


  “Tonight would be far less cheerful without your ballistae,” Miya said, clinking her metal cup against Ilsa’s. Some ale splashed on Ilsa’s face, causing her to yelp, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  Ignoring the look I got for my reaction, I continued along Miya’s train of thought. “Miya is right. I could tell even early on that the only reason the dragons didn’t get behind the walls was because they were busy trying not to get shot down. Young as they are, they panicked and spent their time trying to take out the ballistae through the barriers. Smarter dragons like Lyria would have just landed on the walls, but that’s what she gets for using dumb ones.”

  Ilsa grimaced more, looking upset now. “One of them did do that. I lost a crew of mages and would have lost more had Hish not been on the wall. Her company punched the dragon’s neck full of enough holes to nearly drown the wall in blood. The other dragons weren’t so keen on the idea after that.”

  I let out a low whistle. That was the whole point of the swords I had given Hish, but it certainly took a lot of guts to rush a dragon and shove your swords in it. Then again, her company had physically catapulted itself headlong at charging cavalry. I got the sense that self-preservation was not high on their list of priorities at times. Or maybe the armor had done its work and the flames had simply washed over them. I’d need to interrogate Hish later.

  “Yasno killed one at the southern gatehouse. You just told me about Hish’s kill. Two captured, right?” I said, listing off the four dragons Yasno had reported to me earlier.

  “That’s right. The black dragon we got with a ballista at the start tired out eventually and crashed over the wall. We put two more in its side while it was down, surrounded it, and it eventually transformed into a woman. She’s tied up in steel cable and in the dungeon,” Ilsa explained.

  “The other one is the red dragon you fought up north. She panicked after she saw Lyria go down and slammed into the southern gatehouse, except she covered her descent with fire to prevent a repeat of Yasno’s kill.” Smart tactic, which showed she was learning faster than the others. “Yasno penned her in there, as she wouldn’t take off and the Imperial soldiers were behind her. When the Empire’s retreat started, she just lay down and sat there. Gave up.”

  “And?” I asked. That could have gone a lot of ways, especially after a long battle where we had killed her friends. Young as these dragons were, this was a battlefield, and this was a hard thing to deal with.

  “Yasno spoke to her. Got her to transform. She’s in the dungeon but I suspect she’s a little cozier than the black dragon,” Ilsa said, a frown on her face. “You said they’re teenagers, but she looked like an adult.”

  “That’s because their human form is magical. They look like adults for a long time. Mentally, she’s likely still pretty young, and magically, she definitely is. Dragons need a long time to build up their reserves for combat. Even Lyria isn’t really old enough to actually have proper reserves, from what I understand. She runs mostly off what she generates on the fly,” I said, waving over an oni for another ale.

  “Reserves? Don’t we all have those?” Ilsa asked. “Or is this one of those fundamental differences between us and dragons?”

  I took two new tankards and watched as a small flock of soldiers congregated around the cart-pulling oni with the booze. “Most races such as humans and oni generate small amounts of magical energy constantly and have a larger reserve. That’s because we’re physical beings. Dragons are magical beings, meaning they are gigantic magical engines that generate large amounts of magical energy all the time. Lyria once explained that they have three engines, each of which becomes active as they age and serves different purposes. As a result, dragons have a constant supply of magical energy, but most of it powers their bodies or is wasted if they don’t use it.

  “Draconic reserves are special in that they’re very inefficient but also limitless. They build up slowly over time, and drawing on those allows dragons to undertake mythical feats, such as those stories of ancient dragons leveling cities. The reason dragons used to be considered adults at two centuries old—Lyria’s age—is because that is the age that their engines switch over to generating reserves rather than growing their bodies. Any dragon older than Lyria can pull off immense feats of magic well beyond anything other races can. However, doing so will cost that dragon years, decades, or even centuries of his reserves.”

  I finished my drink and started on the second one. I wanted to be drunk tonight, as I had seen somebody I would prefer to forget. Nostalgia was beginning to overwhelm me, and I needed to be able to lower the executioner’s blade in the future. I couldn’t afford to spare Lyria again.

  Then I noticed that neither Miya nor Ilsa was talking and instead were looking at me oddly.

  Miya spoke first. “That’s the first time you’ve spoken kindly of Lyria.”

  “I wouldn’t say I said anything nice. Those were just dragon facts.”

  Ilsa cut in. “It was your voice. It’s never been that soft when you were speaking about her.” Then she asked what I had been dreading somebody would ask all night. “The two of you were very close once, weren’t you?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment. Then I looked at the two women next to me—actually looked at them. Their eyes were soft, not judging me. They looked at me with care and with love.

  After a long time in silence, I said, “Yes, we were. It’s difficult, even though it was a long time ago.” It was easier to fool myself that I felt nothing but hatred toward Lyria and she hated me in return, but the truth was more complex. I couldn’t easily forgive her over Tornfrost, but I also couldn’t forget all that time we had together.

  Love didn’t really care about context.

  Fortunately, there was always more love to go around. Case in point, the two women currently curling their arms around mine.

  Ilsa and Miya looked at each other awkwardly. They also moved awkwardly, like two women who had definitely drunk too much.

  “Mykah, maybe it’s time to forget about the past for tonight,” Ilsa said, pulling my head down for a kiss.

  Miya’s hands were wandering downstairs while she waited for her turn. The moment Ilsa finished, she pulled my head down to hers, and our lips met, her tongue slipping past my teeth and wrestling with my own. Her hands were quickly joined by another pair downstairs.

  “Wait,” I said, very, very reluctantly. The looks they gave me were searing. “We have a bedroom.”

  At this point, not a single soldier in my army would be uncertain about my relationship with either Ilsa or Miya. The square fell silent. I felt Hish’s stare on the back of my head, her face as red as a tomato and her mouth hanging wide open when I glanced over at her.

  Yasno gave me a thumbs-up as I led Ilsa and Miya away into the night. This truly was a night of victory, one in which I could dispel all thoughts of Lyria.

  Chapter 40

  Tornfrost Watch was a lot greener than it had been when we left it earlier in the year. The journey north had made clear that summer was well and truly here. The people were out tending the fields and preparing for a big grain harvest. There was no shortage of construction taking place in the wake of Lyria’s advance, but black and blue banners flew proudly above guards and soldiers wearing the same. This was my land now.

  It was funny to think that. My land. Not the land I was protecting, but mine.

  Technically, I had always been a landowner, but the duchy had existed primarily for military purposes. I had never really cared for its value to me as an individual so much as what it meant to me as a magister-general. The flags flying my colors were very different somehow. They were proof that I was making headway in my goal of restoring the Empire I loved.

  “Does it feel much different being here as grand duke?” Ilsa asked from beside me as we pulled up to the stables on our griffins.

  I gave her a mock glare as I dismounted Zwei, letting the oni stablehands take her from me after a few pets. The ride north had been a great chance to s
how her some love, as she had been a little lonely in Talepolis. Long jaunts along the countryside had become a nightly thing for her, and I would need to make an effort to keep it up now. Miya’s willingness to join me would make it easier, particularly if we took a break somewhere peaceful and secluded.

  However, this wasn’t to be a permanent stay. Only a few companies of soldiers were here, besides those that had accompanied Miya, Ilsa, and me north.

  “A little. This had begun to feel a little like home, the first and last of the fortresses of the Bulwark,” I mused as I stepped into the keep itself. It was practically deserted, most of the inhabitants either toiling away in the administration wing or training outside, to say nothing of those who would never return.

  “Now?” Ilsa pressed.

  “We’ve proved that we need more than just an army to oppose the Empire. We defeated Lyria because we had Talepolis’s forges. If we want to restore the Empire, our home is where it needs to be,” I said, voicing aloud my ruminations of the past few weeks. “Right now, Talepolis and the south is where we need to be, save for one purpose.”

  I looked at Miya and she nodded in return.

  “The oni,” she said, referring not to our beloved demi-oni but to her double-horned brethren. This was their territory, and I was honor-bound to protect it, even if I was getting the impression they seemed to care little for our alliance anymore.

  We fell silent as we climbed the mage tower, returning to our old haunt. The maps were still there, as we had used new sets farther south. Ilsa immediately began shifting the markers and the papers strewn about. I grew concerned at the pile of papers at the side. New reports? Hopefully nothing dire.

  “So you’re not too concerned about your new title?” Ilsa pressed, this time more seriously.

  “I am,” Miya said. “I still don’t understand why you haven’t claimed your rightful title—that of emperor.”