by Kevin Potter
“Why would she do that?!” Gravv cried, his eyes filling with crimson tears. “There has to be more that you aren’t telling me!”
Graayyy covered Gravv with a massive wing, far larger than Balhamuut’s had been. It was surprisingly comforting. “Come, Balhalumuut. We should leave this place. Your dam and I had another task that still needs completing.”
“I’m sorry, Sire,” Balhalumuut said, the shine in his eyes dulling rapidly.
He’s beginning to waver, Gravv thought. It won’t be long now before he succumbs to the exhaustion of the ritual.
“I know it’s important, but Graavvyynaustaiur can help you. My place is here now.”
“Surely not! Not in this den of evil and torment!”
Balhalumuut blinked slowly. “Sire, as far as I know, I am the last living platinum dragon.”
Graayyy made a disgusted face, but Gravv’s jaw fell open, his eyes going wide.
Balhalumuut went on as though he hadn’t seen either of them. “With respect, Sire, my brother no longer counts. He has embraced the garnet within, rejecting the platinum side of his nature. I am the only one left. And this place needs a leader. A platinum leader. It will take time, but I will undo the evil my uncle has wrought here. Rest assured, though, when the time comes for your Council, I will see it done.”
Council? Gravv thought. What is he talking about?
Graayyyavalll nodded. “As you wish, my son. I’ll not try to dissuade you further. You’ve made an informed decision. Too informed, I would say, if we’re being honest.”
Balhalumuut smiled. “And we should always be.”
Graayyy smiled sadly. “Farewell, my son. Until we meet again.”
“Safe travels, Sire,” Balhalumuut said with drooping eyelids.
Gravv stared in amazement. Was he truly seeing this? Was this truly happening? His brother was somehow the new Platinum Lord, carrying a vast wealth of power unknown in… probably ever. And his sire wasn’t going to do anything about it!
How could this be possible? There had to be something he could do!
Graayyyavalll pulled Gravv in tighter against him and turned, leading the way out of the cave system.
It was a long walk, made all the longer by Gravv’s grief and his disbelief.
I’m betraying everything I know. Everything I believe in. But what can I do? If Sire won’t stand with me, what can I do? Even if I wanted to try, there is no way I could defeat them both. Even if Bal were unconscious, I doubt I could fight my way through Graayyyavalll alone.
He struggled to wrap his mind around all that had happened, to comprehend the course of this inane reunion. At what point had it all gone so horribly wrong?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the time Gravv pulled in his first breath of clean air in many long months, he felt ready to move on and face the new challenges that were certainly coming.
How am I okay already? he wondered, astonished, and glanced up at Graayyyavalll. Is it him? Is this that strange calming power of his?
How does he do it?
With a small shake of his head, Gravv tried to push the thought from his mind. As much as he wanted an answer, that wasn’t what was important right now.
The path he traveled with his sire would not be easy. In fact, it was possible that in some ways the coming struggles could overshadow the torment of the last few months beneath the mountain with his uncle.
Over and above everything else, platinums cannot be trusted, he thought. None of them. The rest of the metallics aren’t much better, the secretive, deceitful bastards, but platinums are the worst of the bunch!
First, Dam tries to kill me for no reason at all. Then Balhalumuut turns on our family and joins with our mortal enemy. He helps to kill Dam, then proceeds to steal all the spirits Balhamuut stole in his greed. At this point, Balhalumuut is no better than the fat bastard was.
He made his choices. Therefore, I have no brother. I am not a platinum any longer. I am a garnet wyrm forevermore. I am Graavvyynaustaiur. And I will do what must be done. The wars must end. Peace must come. If this nightmare goes on much longer, there won’t be anything left for us to save.
EPILOGUE
Balhalumuut watched his family go with a thick knot in his belly. Graavvyynaustaiur will never forgive me for this, he thought in an exhausted daze. With each passing moment, it grew increasingly difficult to stave off the wave of exhaustion.
He’d known the truth of it when he made his choice, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.
I pray that one day you will understand and forgive me, little brother. Perhaps when that day comes, you’ll come back here and rule the island with me, as our dam did in the ages before The Sleep.
Much as he wished for it, however, he didn’t believe it would happen. Graavvyynaustaiur was a stubborn creature who allowed himself to be ruled by his emotions. And with this— he would surely view it as a betrayal —he would likely never think of Balhalumuut as family again.
It was a bitter draught, but one he would accept over and over again so long as it meant his little brother would live. Few costs could ever be too great when his brother’s life hung in the balance.
Who are you kidding, Bal? said a contrary voice in the back of his mind, sounding frighteningly similar to his dam’s. You didn’t take Balhamuut’s essence to protect Graavvyynaustaiur! You did it for the power! Stop thinking you’re so noble!
He sighed. In his deepest heart, he knew the truth. He knew he had always cared, and deeply, for his brother. He had been terrible at expressing it, often letting his temper and inborn aggression get the better of him, but the love had always been there. He’d always considered it his job to take care of the smaller dragon.
Yet with a twinge, he admitted a hard truth. It was too much power to let it go to waste. Besides, with this much arcane strength I will have the power to protect him in the future. Even with his newfound power, he still cannot compete with me.
So it all comes down to greed.
He sighed again. What else was I supposed to do? I needed the arcane strength to force change here. The corruption on this island needs to stop. These wyrms need to remember what it means to be metallic dragons!
Just keep telling yourself that.
Besides, he thought in frustration. I couldn’t take the risk of him taking her memories. Hearing it from Sire and I is one thing, but knowing it from her own mind, that’s something else.
Would she really have killed him, though?
How can you doubt it? he answered himself. She showed you her mind, and you have free access to her memories now. If you had any doubt of it before, seeing her mental state is your proof that she was completely insane. And the chaotic telepathic blast Gravv sent out was full of torture, agony, and death. And of the desire to cause such. Her mental state as it was, it convinced her he had joined with Balhamuut and that his mind was beyond salvation.
He stopped, the reality seeming to crash into his mind. In truth, had I been in my right mind at the time, even with my sanity intact I might have come to the same conclusion. How is it that Sire did not? Is he truly so much better than the rest of us?
Then why do I feel so damned guilty about it?
Balhalumuut sighed in resigned frustration. Because he’ll never understand. He’ll never believe what really happened. He loved her too much to ever believe she would turn on him, sane or otherwise. And if he ever did accept it as truth, it would destroy him.
But that’s not the worst of your betrayals and you know it.
Balhalumuut shook his head wearily. “I can’t believe I’m losing an argument against myself.”
With slow, ponderous movements, he stood and walked to the inert forms of the fallen platinum dragons on the cave floor. He reached under the scales of Balhamuut’s belly, pushing farther and farther in until–
There it is, he thought as his claw brushed the long shaft. He gripped the metal and yanked, but it didn’
t budge.
He tried again. In his weakened state he was only able to move it a few claw-widths.
On the third pull, with a sickening snap and a shuddering movement, the item came free of its moorings in the dead wyrm’s hide.
Balhalumuut pulled the Dragon Scepter up to eye level. He spent several minutes admiring it.
He hadn’t even known of the scepter’s existence until after he’d absorbed the wyrm’s essence, but now that he did he would ensure no others learned of its power. The scepter would be his prize. His heirloom. His… precious. He would never relinquish it. Not while he lived.
I’m not yet large enough to fuse it to my body as Balhamuut did, but it’s a good idea. After the spurt of growth from this absorption, I will.
He pulled a thin stream of power from his now blindingly bright Apex and ignited blazing flames inside the bodies of both platinum wyrms. The flames flared up in gold, green, red, and all the other colors of the rainbow, with each one split into a million shades and thousands of blended combinations of colors.
The bodies seemed to burn for eons while he watched, their flesh crisping then falling away in tumbling masses of ash. The scales hardened into shining shards of metal and the internal organs liquefied into platinum puddles.
When the fires were gone, Balhalumuut’s eyes were drawn to a bit of color. Something which was neither ash nor shining platinum. It was a small, twisting length of greenish stone flecked with gold.
What in the name of my first ancestor is that?
The thing rested between two silvery puddles and was untouched by the flames. He reached down to pick it up, but stopped a short distance from it. He stood, frozen, unwilling to move any closer to the strange object.
From its position, the thing seemed to have rested at the approximate location of Dauria’s heart.
What does it mean? he wondered. Does it mean anything?
It must mean something. But what? Clearly, she kept it near her heart, probably fused there. Why would she do that?
With no answers to be found, he reached down and wrapped his claw around the small piece of stone. Despite the recent flames, it was cool to the touch.
Raising the item to his eyes, he peered at it and found himself even more confused than before.
Was it… a serpent? It seemed so. The piece of stone appeared to be shaped out of jade with strange gold flecks running throughout. It was sculpted to resemble a serpent, very similar in shape to the way the Japanese dragons of old would shape themselves to match what their human worshipers expected to see.
How is this significant?
Balhalumuut spent long minutes wracking his brain for any memory of his dam which might explain the presence of this strange statue, or whatever it was.
She had never mentioned it.
Could she have acquired it in one of her many adventures before the Long Sleep? he wondered. Or in the years after the first Great War but before the new one? Before the extinctions began?
That much, at least, was almost certain. After all, when could she have acquired it after his birth? So far as he could recall, she’d never left the Antarctic for any real length of time until they came here.
For a minute, he delved into the memories of hers that he had acquired from taking Balhamuut’s essence. He tried to come up with a memory of the statue, but there was nothing. As far as he could tell, she had no memory of ever having seen the thing.
Which means… what? he wondered.
That I have no way of figuring out the how and when and why of it, that’s what it means.
He growled in frustration. He hated unanswerable questions.
If I could somehow figure it out, might that be a way of healing the rift with Graavvyynaustaiur?
Only if it proved just as important to him.
He sighed. Okay, so now what?
As though on cue, a narrow, golden head drifted into the cavern’s only entrance and looked left, then right. The wyrm’s sapphire-within-aquamarine eyes drifted over Balhalumuut as though he didn’t exist.
After roving over the room twice, the head began to withdraw.
Balhalumuut shook his head violently to stave off the lethargy for a while longer. “Chorrithaelliaust!” he snapped.
The golden lips curled up in a sneer and the wyrm locked eyes with him. “You have awakened.” The voice dripped with disdain.
“You will address me with respect!” Balhalumuut commanded, a hint of rage coloring his voice.
The wyrm’s sneer deepened. “Do not presume to–“
Balhalumuut flung a stream of power without thinking and the golden snout slammed shut, nearly taking the tips of the wyrm’s forked tongue with it. The creature’s eyes flashed with rage.
“YOU,” Balhalumuut shouted. “WILL ADDRESS ME AS LORD OR MASTER, WYRM. OR YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF ENCASED IN ICE AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN.” He calmed his voice as he added, “Am I understood?”
The rage in those blue eyes cooled to confusion, but the gold nodded slowly.
“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, Balhamuut is no more. As the eldest of his only surviving blood relations, I have claimed lordship over his domains. Let it be known far and wide.”
Chorrithaelliaust nodded. “I mean no disrespect, Master, but is there proof of the old Master’s demise? Some will require it.”
Balhalumuut gestured with a wing to the glistening remains of metallic scales and the bubbling puddles of liquid platinum where the two wyrms had burned.
The gold followed his gesture and the glittering blue eyes widened when they reached the spot. “You… burned his body?”
Balhalumuut nodded.
“How?” the wyrm was incredulous.
“There are ways.”
“And you’re not going to tell them to me.” It was not a question.
Balhalumuut nodded again as he came to a decision. “Go. Send message of my ascension along with your mental images of the proof. Then return to me. There are matters which require my attention here.”
The gold nodded and retreated from the Audience Chamber.
Changes are needed, he thought. No question. But do I dare turn everything upside down right away? Might it be better to start slow and effect the needed changes over years or even centuries?
Balhalumuut scoffed at himself and almost laughed. Regardless of how much danger it put him in, and the danger would be considerable, he would turn his new domain around before the year was out.
He wouldn’t be safe until the transformation was complete, if even then, but that couldn’t be helped. If he hedged, the danger would be all the greater when he changed everything. Better to face it all head on right now.
It would be said, he knew, that he was many things: Loving Brother, Terrible Tyrant, Violent Terrorist, Angry Bully, Insecure Fear-Monger, Brutal Assailant, even Heartless War-Bringer.
But patient was not among them.
Graayyyavalll had done his best to pass on the virtue, it was not a failing on his part. Patience was simply not among Balhalumuut’s qualities. Nothing he did could make it otherwise.
Within minutes of the gold walking out of his chamber, he coiled himself in a wide spiral on the stone floor of the cavern and slept. Dreamless and not overly restful, but sleep nonetheless.
Sometime later, Balhalumuut’s eyes opened without discernible reason. After a moment, the gold stepped back through the Audience Chamber archway and scowled at him.
“First things first,” Balhalumuut said as he uncoiled and stood. “Take me to the workroom dungeon and the torture chambers for the young dragons. That business is coming to an end right now.”
“But my lord!” the gold implored. “Without the dungeons, how will we deal with the rogue dragons who stray into our realm?”
“With kindness. And with compassion. Have you forgotten what it means to be a metallic dragon, Chorrithaelliaust?”
“My lord?”
“We are the
favored of the noble Lord Ryujin, wyrm. Justice. Honor. Compassion. Loyalty. Generosity. Without these virtues, we may as well join the stone dragons and follow Tiamat.”
The gold looked down in shame, his color deepening.
“And speaking of the dungeons, the work on the weapons down there stops. Today. Going forward, the foundries and forges will be devoted to making tools so the humans can raise crops and livestock on the surface. They are not animals to be kept caged in our caves. Let them go free. Let them raise their own food and choose their own homes. So long as they do not renew their devotion to industry and science, they will not be a threat.”
The gold gulped loudly, then nodded. “As you say, Wise Master.”
Though impatient to be about it, Balhalumuut waited, allowing the gold to lead the way. While he remembered much of the layout of the caves, the memories were hazy. It would be a considerable while before he could navigate them without assistance.
“Our first stop will be the torturers,” he said briskly. “That must be stopped first, before any more wyrmlings are turned into monsters.”
The gold nodded almost emphatically, it seemed.
Either he’s anxious to effect these changes, or he’s looking forward to the inevitable backlash from the wyrms who are going to be downright murderous over it, Balhalumuut thought.
There’s nothing like painting a target on my own head. But as Sire always says, no risk, no reward.
Please, oh please, Lord Ryujin, let the reward be worth what I’m risking here.
To his sire, undoubtedly flying above the ocean by now, he sent, with luck, I will succeed in my endeavors here and be in a position to help when you are finally ready to assemble your Council.
Graayyyavalll’s mental smile was his only response.
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