The Rage of Dragons

by Evan Winter

  They drank, laughed, celebrated, but Tau couldn’t focus, and as soon as he could, he spoke with Jayyed.

  “Maybe this cycle will see Ihashe in the Queen’s Melee again,” Tau said, trying to be patient, trying to hold back the thing he really wanted to ask.

  Jayyed smiled. “Maybe.”

  “Is it often the same scales from the citadel that make it to the melee? Or is every cycle different?”

  “Like most things,” Jayyed said, “a few become dominant, some maintain a measure of power, and most remain powerless. The citadel is no different and the majority of the sixteen scales that qualify for the Queen’s Melee are there time and again.”

  “So, though new initiates come in, the same crop of umqondisi seem to train and produce the best?”

  Jayyed chuckled. “Yes. And they’d swear to the Goddess their results were entirely due to their brilliance. Closer to the truth, early success eases the way for more success, often leads to better resources, more say in matters that contribute to success, and even the power to hamper the progress of those behind you.”

  Taking a long drink, Jayyed drained his cup and placed it at the table’s edge, balancing it. “The same crop of umqondisi do tend to train and produce the best, but it’s not just because they’re the best teachers. Remember, my reputation allowed me to bend rules. I chose all the initiates I wanted in my scale before any of the other umqondisi had a chance.”

  Tau’s patience had seen the seeds he’d planted grow. It was time to harvest. “Which scales do you expect to see in the melee?” he asked.

  Jayyed looked off, thinking. “Hmm… I’d wager a good sum we’ll see Scales Ojuolape, Onyekachi, and Otobong, but I’d face down dragon fire if Scales Osa and Omondi didn’t qualify.”

  Tau nodded at the names, memorizing them. “They’re the best?”

  “They are.”

  “We’ll be better,” Tau said, not really meaning it, but looking to end the conversation.

  Jayyed laughed. Tau smiled and pretended he had to make water so he could slip away. He left the drinking house and wandered a while, not wanting it to look like he traveled with purpose. A quarter span of that and he made for the circle where Zuri had taken him on his first trip to Citadel City. It wasn’t hard to find it, though he felt foolish doing so.

  How could he think she’d be there? As if she had nothing more to do than wait for him. Would she even know his scale had been in the skirmish today? Tau shook his head, told himself to turn back and enjoy the rest of his time in the city with his sword brothers, but he didn’t want to go back, not without looking.

  So, Tau strode into the circle, ready to find disappointment. He found Zuri instead.

  GIFTS

  She was sitting on the same bench. She was the only one in the circle.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” she said, standing.

  Tau went to her and didn’t know quite what to do when he got there.

  “You could hold me,” she told him.

  He wrapped her up in his arms. She melted into him and he sighed at the feel of her.

  “I think of you almost as much as my training,” Tau said.

  “That much? You shouldn’t,” she said, her voice edging toward laughter.

  “I… I think of training all the time. It’s a lot, really.”

  “I’m sure.” She laughed that time and drew back slightly, so they could look at each other.

  Seeing her calmed him.

  “I heard you won,” she said.

  “We did.” Tau couldn’t take the pride from his voice. “We beat the Indlovu and their Enervator.”

  “It caused a stir. Preceptor Inti has been removed from teaching duties. They’re sending her to the front, to fight, and the initiate, Namisa, she’ll be doing newcomer lessons for the next four moon cycles.”

  Tau hadn’t thought of that, how the ones on the other side, the losing side, would suffer for being part of such a dramatic failure. “I’m not happy to hear that, but we deserved to win. The odds are heavily weighted against us and we beat them.”

  “You had three times the men.”

  “They’re Nobles, and the citadel fields initiates from all three cycles of training. They had an Enervator,” Tau said, to drive the point home.

  “Namisa is barely that.”

  “She knew her work well enough to cause me to lose an arm to a demon.” His words shocked Zuri, and none of this was going the way he wanted.

  “She held you long enough for a demon to attack?”

  “I saw one eat the face off an Indlovu.”

  “She sent a Noble to Isihogo?”

  “She sent the lot of us, Ihashe and Indlovu. Is that not acceptable, if the Gifted can save herself in the bargain?”

  Zuri’s voice went hard. “Not in a skirmish.”

  “Ah.” Tau was beginning to understand why Namisa and her preceptor’s punishments had been so harsh.

  “My first skirmish was a few days ago,” Zuri offered.

  “You could have faced us?”

  “It was a scale from the Northern Isikolo.”

  “You won?”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course,” Tau repeated, rolling the words in his mouth like they were rotten.

  “You know what I mean,” Zuri said.

  “What it’s like? Fighting on their side?”

  “Whose side? The Omehi?”

  “You know what I mean,” Tau said.

  “I don’t. We all train to defend our people against the hedeni.”

  “Then, why are the skirmishes set up so Lessers lose?”

  “They’re not. Lessers can rise up the scale ranks as the citadels do. Lessers can win the Queen’s Melee.”

  “When did that happen last?”

  Zuri was no longer in Tau’s arms. “What do you want me to say?” she asked.

  “This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

  “Should I leave?”

  “No,” he said. “Can I start over?”

  “How does that work?”

  “How are you? How is the Gifted Citadel?” Tau asked.

  Zuri sat on the bench, leaving room for him. He sat.

  “It’s incredible. It’s horrible,” she said. “Discovering what I can do, how far I can go, it gets so I can barely sleep. I’m scared to waste even a moment of learning. But that makes me complicit. If I take the power and ignore the cost, I’m not so different from the worst of them.”

  “The worst of them?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You can tell me,” Tau said, thinking it very much sounded like she wanted to talk about it.

  She took his hand but said nothing. He slipped his fingers out of hers so he could put his arm around her shoulders. He gave her his far hand to hold instead. She leaned against him and they sat like that for a time, letting the day turn from dusk to evening.

  “I’ll have to go,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “I’ll come back.”

  “Next skirmish.”

  “Will you—”

  “Of course. I’ll wait.”

  Tau nodded, didn’t want to spoil the evening, but had more he needed from Zuri. “Can I… may I ask two questions?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That’s formal.”

  “Ah…”

  “Of course, go ahead.”

  Tau hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know. “What scale is Kellan Okar in?”

  She was staring at him, and for a moment, he didn’t think she’d answer. “Scale Osa,” she said.

  Tau let out the breath he’d been holding, his mind going over and over Jayyed’s words, “I’d face down dragon fire if Scales Osa and Omondi didn’t qualify.” That’s what he’d said.

  “Do you still want to ask your second question?”

  “Neh?”

  “You said you had two questions.”

  The second question mattered more, now that he knew Kellan was part of Sc
ale Osa. “The Gifted…”

  “What about us?” Zuri asked, emphasizing the last word.

  “How does enervation work?”

  Zuri sighed and lifted her head from his shoulder. “How did you get the scar? Was it… Lekan?”

  “Lekan.”

  She turned to him and really looked at it. Tau didn’t think of himself as vain, but it was uncomfortable, having her study the mark that marred him. Zuri lifted a hand to his face and let her fingers rest below the puckered flesh on his right cheek.

  She let her hand fall, lowering her head. “The first part you know. Enervation pulls a man’s soul out of this realm and into another. To understand the Gifted, our abilities, and enervation, you need to understand the realm to which your soul is sent. You need to understand Isihogo.”

  “I see,” said Tau.

  “No, you don’t. Isihogo is the realm of Ukufa and his demons. It is the prison the Goddess made to hold them.”

  Tau performed his daily prayers but would never have called himself religious. Still, at mention of Ukufa he made the symbol of the dragon span, warding away evil.

  Zuri noticed his quick hand movement and the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Yes, well, everything began with Ananthi when She spun the universe out of Her desire for more. She created the sun, stars, Uhmlaba, and all that is between them.”

  “I remember hearing this when I was a child.”

  “You’re the one who asked,” she said.

  “About enervation.”

  “This is about enervation.”

  Tau kept silent.

  “Anathi created everything. She created life. She made all the creatures and She made all the races of man, each of them unique in the way they commune with Her.”

  “Gifts.”

  “Gifts. Every race has unique capabilities,” Zuri said. “And Ananthi continued to create, seeking perfection in what She had begun. The races of man, however, were combative, destructive. Ananthi needed to create order among them. To do this, She set the races of man tests. These were tests of service, honor, will, passion, empathy, and intelligence. It took a thousand cycles for the tests to be complete, and when they were done, Ananthi created order.

  “The castes.”

  “More than that. She made the Omehi Her Chosen and placed all others below us. We are Ananthi’s voice on Uhmlaba, and that did not sit well with Ukufa.

  “Ukufa was a man and, like all the first women and men, he was immortal. He held his jealousy in check for a time, but as the eons slipped by, his hate for being less than his betters did not subside.

  “He gathered a following, women and men from many of the races, and corrupted them with lies. He told them Anathi had decided to end their immortality, that She would let them die. He told them that if they used their gifts together, they could drain Ananthi, pass Her power into him, and he could prevent Her from damning them with death.

  “The corrupted women and men did as Ukufa bid and attacked Ananthi. We, the Omehi, saw Ananthi’s need and led the faithful races of man to Her aid. We did not come soon enough.

  “Ukufa had gained power beyond the abilities of other men, and the fight that followed was so devastating it split the earth into masses of land divided by rivers that became seas, seas that became oceans. The sky, once pure and whole, smoked and burned. The fields, flat and bountiful, dried and cracked, until all the races of man grew fearful that Uhmlaba would turn too desolate a place to sustain life.

  “The Omehi, determined to prevent an apocalypse, gathered their might and attacked, forcing Ukufa and the ones he had corrupted back, but we could not finish them. We were going to lose. Anathi was weak, too weak, but it fell to Her to end the war. She was the only one who could. So, She did.

  “Using all She was, Ananthi wrapped herself around Ukufa and his corrupted, trapping them. She used the energy of Her being to form a prison, an impenetrable new realm.

  “Ukufa, already trapped and seeing his defeat was inevitable, could still use his powers. He reached beyond the prison before Ananthi could seal it and drew the natural energy from Uhmlaba, pulling as much of it as he could into Ananthi’s prison. It was in that final attack that the races of man lost their immortality. Ukufa’s evil actions made his lies true, and worse.

  “Fear of death broke the weakest among us and these weakest called out to Ukufa. The prison was breaths away from closing forever, but in those breaths, Ukufa made his offer. He promised immortality to those calling to him, immortality in exchange for their souls and service.

  “The cowards accepted, swearing to kill us all. They swore they would eliminate Ananthi’s Chosen and, in so doing, destroy Ananthi, allowing Ukufa to escape the prison. In this way, the weakest among us became the strongest, for though they can be killed, they do not die from age or sickness.”

  “You’re describing the Cull,” said Tau.

  “I am.”

  BREATHE

  “The Cull are a tale, meant to frighten children into doing their prayers,” Tau said.

  “I am telling you what we are taught at the citadel.”

  “They teach make-believe?”

  “Shall I finish?”

  “Is the rest a child’s tale too?”

  “Fine,” said Zuri, turning away.

  Tau grimaced. “Go on. Please.”

  Zuri sighed but turned back. “Ukufa stole the energy Ananthi left for our realm and pulled it into his prison. There is nothing left of Ananthi in Uhmlaba, which means our powers must come from Isihogo. This is because Ananthi is Isihogo. Her essence forms both the realm and the barrier that Ukufa and his corrupted may never pass. So, if we are to use Her gifts, we must enter the underworld and use them from there. All the races can do this, and every man, woman, and child can enter Isihogo.”

  “All? It’s forbidden for any but Gifted to let themselves slip to the underworld.”

  “Yes, and you are warned away for good reason. The demon took your arm, you said?”

  “I… I fought but couldn’t beat it.”

  “No, you couldn’t. Thankfully, the harm they do cannot transfer to Uhmlaba, unless—”

  Tau’s eyes widened. “Unless?”

  “Unless you draw power from Isihogo.”

  “Only Gifted can do that.”

  “No, anyone can do it.”

  “Everyone is Gifted?”

  “I didn’t say that,” Zuri said.

  “You’re losing me on this path.”

  “Everyone can enter Isihogo, but the corrupted, the demons, attack all living souls, seeking vengeance for their imprisonment. They can do no physical harm, so long as the soul they seek to destroy does not draw energy from Isihogo. Drawing energy from the underworld makes you corporeal there.”

  “The entire purpose of being Gifted is to draw energy from Isihogo. Why don’t demons kill Gifted?”

  “They…” Zuri stopped herself. “You are asking what makes someone Gifted. The answer is that Ananthi gave us the ability to hide from the demons.”

  “Hide?… Ah, I think I saw that. The Enervator—”

  “Namisa.”

  “Yes! In Isihogo, my body and the bodies of the other fighters were cloaked in golden light—”

  “The light is your soul. It draws the demons.”

  “Namisa had no soul light. She was all darkness.”

  “That’s half-right,” Zuri said. “Namisa has a soul, and it must shine in Isihogo, but she can shroud it. That is the definition of being Gifted. It is not being able to enter and draw energy from Isihogo. Everyone can do that. It is the ability to shroud your soul’s light for long enough to draw, then use the energy.”

  “How long?” asked Tau.

  “How long what? Can we shroud? It’s individual and depends on the strength of your gift.”

  “How do you strengthen your gift?”

  “It doesn’t… You’re born with your gift. It’s always the same.”

  “You can’t improve it? Train it? Why are yo
u at the citadel? For the stories?”

  Zuri did not look amused. “We are here to learn how to use the strength we are given.”

  Tau frowned, trying to place this in terms that would make sense as a fighter. “You can’t train your gift?”

  “It is a gift.”

  “So is my body. I can train that, make it stronger, faster.”

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “Perhaps,” Tau responded, earning himself a cold look. “Either way, what happens if you take energy from Isihogo and are found by the demons?”

  “We are killed.”

  “Like in Daba…”

  “What?”

  “During the raid on Daba, there were five Gifted with the Entreater who called the dragon.”

  Zuri’s face changed. Yes…,” she said.

  “A demon must have found one of the Gifted. She died without any cause that I could see, but… she wasn’t using power. The Entreater was, but the one who died, she was just standing there.”

  Zuri said nothing. It gave Tau pause. He could tell she was hiding something. He thought to press her but still didn’t have what he needed. It was enervation that interested him. “If I don’t take power from Isihogo, is there anything the demons can do to me?”

  Zuri relaxed, a little. “No, nothing real, but the demon-haunted—”

  “The crazy ones who see things?”

  “They’re not crazy. It’s just… some people break after a demon attack.”

  “It feels real. The pain, the fear, all of it feels real.” Tau clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Can one learn to hide?” he asked.

  “Have you listened at all? The ability to shroud is what it means to be Gifted. You are either born with it or without. That, like the strength of the gift, does not and cannot change. Also, among the Chosen, only women are ever Gifted. It’s why the citadel tests every Omehi girl when she becomes a woman. The testers teach us how to shift to Isihogo and how to leave it. They show us how to shroud ourselves. We flee the underworld before the demons attack, and the test is repeated as many times as needed to confirm each new woman’s gift, or lack of it.”

  “Every Omehi woman has faced a demon?” Tau shook his head, trying to picture his mother doing it. “No one talks about that.”