Age of Valor: Dragon Song

by D. E. Morris

  A horn was blown closer to the center of the island where the tallest living tree stood. At its very top was the horn, carved out of a dragon talon, mounted on a swiveling stand. The size of it allowed the sound to reach every corner of the island. It was a sound they all knew as a warning of approaching danger, though it had been several generations since any of them had heard it.

  The elves on the beach dropped their nets and rushed through the trees as the horn was blown again. A glance behind showed that the dragons were reaching them at alarming speed, and would surely be upon them even before they reached the central meeting place.

  “En!” cried one of the elves, skidding to a stop in a clearing, pointing southward. More dragons were coming from that direction as well as from the north. They didn't have to see the other shore to know they were likely to be attacked from there as well.

  All too quickly, the sky overhead turned dark with dragons, armed men and women raining down from above, hardly getting their feet under them before they were attacking the elves. There had been so little time for the inhabitants of the normally serene island to prepare for an attack, let alone consider how to fight back against it. Many elves were slain within the first few minutes, bodies prone on the ground with blood pooling under them from cut throats or cleaved midsections. The large number of remaining elves refused to go without a fight. They used the short amount of time they had before their attackers turned on them to find weapons, anything at all to fight with.

  It was a macabre reflection of the attack at Altaine. Each dragon rider fought with quick precision to disarm their chosen opponents, but instead of making sure they were unconscious before moving on, the goal this time was to kill. Male, female, even child had no better chance of survival than anyone else. To further add to the confusion, the smallest of the dragons dropped down through the trees, tearing at the elves with teeth and talons and swinging spiked tails to crush bones and send bodies flying helplessly through the air.

  The numbers were beginning to even out between the elves and the riders, the elves much more adaptable to their dangerous surroundings than the riders were perhaps prepared for. They fought back mercilessly with swords, bow and arrow, and thick staves that could knock a man unconscious with the right strike. The dragon riders had been fighting as though it were a procedure to them, each move calculated and without any feeling behind it. They appeared cold and distant, without victory in their eyes as they cast the elves down. As soon as some of them began losing their lives, however, there was a shift in the mood and the energy of the riders. Anger twisted their faces and made their advances more violent, but it also made them less controlled and allowed the elves a bit more of an upper hand.

  A melody rose into the air played on a woodwind instrument, and the sea began to stir. Out of the depths crawled hundreds of water dragons, all shapes, sizes, and colors matching the darker parts of the ocean. They were perhaps the most feral of them all. Launching themselves at the elves without care of their own well being or that of anyone around them, they bit and tore at flesh like wild dogs.

  “Tira ten' rashwe!” A young female elf dove at one of her fellow elves, barely successful in knocking him out of the way before a tall, thick, black cylinder that looked similar to a tree trunk with iron rivets and metal brackets all over it fell from above and pierced the ground where he had been standing. A dragon rider jumped down from atop the mysterious object and fast behind its rider, another dragon dove down and alighted on the top driving the object even deeper into the ground, creating cracks and splits in the earth. All over Mirasean, more and more of these ominous structures were being driven deep into the island, but the elves had little time to worry. The slaughter of their people was still well at hand, and they needed to concentrate on the battles before them.

  Two young male elves ducked into the doorway of a tree house to catch their breath. They were covered in blood, their fine robes torn and stained. One of them looked up, trying to gauge just how many more men and women had the potential to attack, but something odd caught his eye. Among the many colorful dragons seemingly just hovering overhead, there was one that was much larger than the others, its scales black until it hit the sun just right, making it shimmer in purple, blue, and pink iridescence. This larger dragon was fighting against the others, disrupting the calm with which the dragons waited to attack.

  “En,” said the confused elf, nodding skyward. His companion looked up as well, seeing the dragon taking on the masses by itself. The more they watched, however, the quicker they realized that the dragon wasn't fighting against its kindred, but solely attacking the riders controlling them. The fight quickly became too much for the dragon, the others turning on it with greater ferocity than expected. They looked like a colony of ants converging on a sip of honey spilled on the ground. In just seconds, the larger dragon couldn't even be seen until it was cast down by the others, thrown mercilessly to the sea where the water dragons no doubt waited to finish the job.

  A look of concerned realization crossed the elf's face, and he lowered his gaze. “Nae tanya melda Tasarin?”

  The other elf blinked. “I'Elemental?”

  With a unified understanding, they left their hiding spot and ran as quickly as they could, dodging those who struck out to harm them and making a mostly successful run for the beach. They reached the shore in time to see the large dragon hit the water on its back with an enormous splash, flailing as though trying to flip itself over, but one of its wings was bent wrong and surely broken. “Luella!” yelled one of the elves. The dragon turned her head, hearing her name, but there was nothing she could do. All around her the water moved as though it were boiling. Water dragons leaped from the sea to land on her, snapping and scratching, trying to find the vulnerabilities among her armor-strong scales. Both of the elves took aim with their bows, hoping to help in some way, but only serving in annoying the smaller dragons enough that a legion of them dove back into the water and sped to shore, chasing the elves farther inland until they were at last taken over and torn to shreds.

  In the ocean waters, Luella was not catching a moment to right herself. More and more dragons were piling on top of her, many of them coming for her face to scratch at her eyes and the soft flesh under her jaw. The weight on her was slowly making her sink, and she could feel the waves wash over her stomach. Soon she would be submerged and there was little she could do to stop it. If she shifted back to her human form she would certainly die, and her panic prevented her from thinking quickly enough to use fyre. With one final deep breath in, she sank under the surface, still struggling and clawing even as the others persisted in their attacks. The farther down she went, the greater the darkness became. Perhaps, if she could keep herself conscious enough to make it deep enough, she could use that darkness to her advantage and disappear through it, taking care to reappear somewhere she knew would be safe.

  Suddenly, the water around her began to swirl. A long, bright blue dragon, much larger than the others, whipped past her, again and again, creating a whirlpool that was sure to only pull her farther down. The dragons all over her clawed for purchase as they were pulled away by the strong current being created, and Luella was finally able to right herself. She tried to swim, but the damage to her wing had been great and it was taking a little longer to heal than she expected.

  Shift!

  Luella snapped her head around, able to see easily in the darkness of the depth and recognizing Elas' voice instantly. His had been the first she'd ever heard through telepathy, and she prayed it would not be her last. Taking his command and hoping he had a plan, she concentrated on the feeling of limbs shrinking, claws becoming hands and feet, her tail and wings disappearing as she returned to her human form. Elas swam under her, his draconic eyes white and his scales shimmering in the refracted sunlight high above. She caught hold of his neck and he raced for the surface. As soon as her head rose above, she gasped for air and coughed. Quickly, however, she turned around to see the growing whirlpool
that kept the other water dragons prisoner. “Rowan?”

  Yes. We have to get to shore. I can't fight against the pull of the current much longer.

  Holding tightly to Elas as they swam, Luella looked to the sky. Cavalon's massive form and Misuzu's long, lanky one were the only ones she saw that were recognizable, but there were three other dragons with him, seemingly fighting beside them despite their smaller size. It was easy to guess one of them to be Cailin, though the other two were a mystery.

  How did you come to be here?

  Luella tried to reposition herself against him, hoping to take a bit of the weight off of the shoulder that ached from her broken wing. “Tasarin and I were on the western shores of Caedia. We were staying at a lesser kingdom where Zarra's family often stayed. This morning when I woke, I saw a stream of dragons flying this way out to sea. I told Tasarin about it, then shifted to follow. When I found them attacking Mirasean, I did the only thing I knew to do, and tried to fight back.” They approached more shallow waters, allowing her to slide from his back and stand, the water up to her chest. “Thank you for saving me. Drowning is my worst fear.”

  Rowan and I will try to keep things under control down here. Cavalon is up there with Cailin, Mairead, and a new friend. Do you think you can shift again?

  Her answer came in the form of her skin coloring and disappearing behind dark scales. Elas had to swim backward in the water to avoid her growing size. He watched her flap her wings as though to test them, making sure her injury was healed enough for flight. With a powerful kick of her hind legs and a wide flap, she was air born once more and quickly joined the others. She trumpeted a greeting, sending up a cheer from Jaryn. Their reunion was brief, however, because in the next second his dragon was hurtling toward the ground with her wings pulled tight to her body. One of the other unfamiliar dragons, coppery in color and with a redheaded boy on her back, followed swiftly behind.

  “Ready?” Jaryn yelled, the wind whistling in his ears as the dragons lined up side by side in their decent toward the body of water directly in the middle of Mirasean.

  “Ready!” Connor cried, panic and excitement in his wide eyes.

  “One....two...jump!”

  It couldn't have gone smoother if they had choreographed it; both of them sprang from the backs of their dragons and up, their mounts zooming away as the two men rose, then quickly fell down into the water. Before either of them could climb out, Cailin and Gianara were there to help them up onto land. Once they were safe, Cailin tore clumps of moss from a half submerged rock and stuffed them into her ears. Gianara waited until she was done, then pulled her pan flute from the pouch at her belt and put it to her lips, playing a slow, melancholy medley. Whatever they had been expecting to happen, nothing changed, making all four of them watch the continuing chaos in confusion.

  “That should have worked,” Gianara protested. “That is the song of serenity. They should be withdrawing.”

  “I think they're doing the opposite of withdrawing,” Connor worried.

  One of the riders broke through the trees and charged right for Gianara with a pike. She tossed her pipes aside and ducked, letting the tip of the weapon go over her shoulder. As she rose, she grabbed the wooden pole on which the sharp blade was mounted and jerked up, smashing it into the face of her attacker before ripping it from her hands. She twirled it above her head, then drove it right through her opponent's chest. Yanking the weapon free so the body could sag to the ground, Gianara turned to her companions in confusion.

  “I saw many from my own island, both dragon and rider alike. They should have responded to the song and gathered toward it.” She lifted her eyes. “Why do they not obey?”

  “Because they obey only me now.”

  Hideo stepped through the trees behind them, all of them whipping around at the sound of his voice. Gianara held her new weapon across her body, while Cailin moved behind Jaryn and Connor, both of them armed when she was not.

  “Your precious dragons, as well as the riders, will no longer listen to you or your silly pipes.” As if to prove his point, his foot came down on her cherished instrument, cracking the flute under him. “They are mine now.”

  Cavalon, Misuzu, and Luella came running through the forest, pulling up behind their friends when they saw Hideo. Father and daughter looked at one another for a long suffering moment, but Hideo's eyes twitched back to Gianara when he saw her move as if to advance on him. She only paused when she realized he saw her. A frown tugged down the corners of his mouth and he stared at her with cold hatred. “None of them can resist my commands now. Neither should you be able to.”

  “They're all against us,” Cavalon reported grimly, his eyes never leaving Hideo. “There was some random green earth dragon that came out of nowhere and first looked to be fighting on our side, too, that's now attacking the elves and us.”

  “They won't even respond to the commands of the Elementals,” snarled Misuzu. She shook her head at her father. “How are you doing this?”

  “Better yet,” Connor challenged, “why?”

  “This is the power of the Shadow King,” the older man declared. “He has given me authority over man and beast, that they should bend to my will and obey only me.”

  Misuzu pushed through her companions to stand before her father, her hands barren of weapons and vulnerable to any attack. “Why, Father? Why would you do this? I understand the pain you suffered in watching your family die, but this is too far. You have taken innocent lives.”

  “My family was innocent!” Hideo's face was red, a vein in his neck throbbing. “Do you not think I let a single day pass where I did not plan my revenge on these wretched beings? Dragon or Gael, none should be allowed to live. They are wild, unpredictable beasts that do nothing but destroy and kill.” His brow furrowed as he looked at his daughter. “And you...you are the worst of them. You choose to be like them. And so you must be destroyed as well.”

  “You would slay your own daughter?” Cavalon challenged.

  “She chose death the moment she chose to stand against me.” Hideo's shoulder lifted in a shrug. “This is but a means to an end. The dragons, the Gaels - even the Elementals - will all be destroyed, as will their sympathizers. It has already been foreseen, courses are already in motion.” He looked up, a wry smile on his face. “What better way to begin a revolution by using the very creatures the world so foolishly loves - to destroy nearly an entire species?”

  “This was all a setup,” Luella gasped. “You want the dragons to kill the elves so that the people will turn against them.”

  “The elves think themselves almost as superior as the Gaels,” Hideo scoffed. “There has been no greater dislike between tribes as the elves with the Gaels. Does it not make perfect sense that such tension should finally come to a breaking point? Before this day is finished, everyone will know of the carnage they wrought and the world will turn against them.”

  Jaryn tightened his grip on his sword, working to consciously keep his feet planted where they were. “Who did you sell your soul to? Was it Merrik?”

  “What the Shadow King asks of me, I will ever do. He has given his servant great power, and great responsibility.” With a sigh, he tilted his head to the side. “And now, it is time for all of this to end.” He pulled a miniature version of Gianara's pan flute from inside his robes and brought them to his lips, playing a shrill, high medley. There was a tangible shift in the energy of what was happening, as though they had been suffering from the battering winds of a hurricane and now stood in its center. Everything was about to change, and though none knew what that meant, they understood the time for conversation was done.

  The sound of giant wings came beating into the air above them. Hovering there, all but blocking out the sky, was the dam Gianara had introduced Connor to, as well as the dracklings who were old enough to have learned to fly. Her large eyes were clouded over, her weathered old body bleeding from places where scales had been pierced through or simply torn off. One of th
e dracklings was badly wounded, bleeding from a gash in its side, yet it still snarled and snapped as though ready to attack. “No,” she whispered. She reached for her instrument, only remembering too late that it had been destroyed. With a feral yell, she lowered her head and ran at Hideo with her pike. He rolled to the side with the deftness of a much younger man, but wasn't able to find his feet before Gianara found her own and doubled back to swing the weapon and hit him squarely in the face with the long wooden shaft. He stumbled back, his nose crooked and bleeding. Still he found it in him to run from her and bring the pipes to his lips. He played a new, short little medley that made the dragon rise straight up.

  Hideo slid the pipes back into his robes and laughed, mocking Gianara even as she tackled him to the ground and pressed the pole of her weapon down onto his neck. “Whatever you just did, undo it.”

  “It is too late,” he choked. “Those dragons will die here. You will die here.” He turned his head to the side to meet Misuzu's pain-filled gaze. “We will all die here.”

  High above them, the dam sucked in a great breath, then filled the air with a cry so loud that everyone on two feet had little choice but to cover their ears and pray for the sound to stop. Again and again it came, shaking the very foundations of the island. In places where the tall structures had been driven into the ground, the earth opened up to swallow them down.

  Somehow, Cavalon fought through the pain of his eardrums rupturing and began to shift. There wasn't nearly enough room where he stood, but there was little other choice. The others had to scurry away from him, all while trying to keep themselves from doubling over in the pain that the dragon's cries produced in them. Cavalon's size was bigger than that of the trumpeting dragon, and he had a hard time maneuvering through the thick trees around them without knocking many over with his body. In frustration, he turned and slashed his tail behind him, clearing trees and people away enough to give him room to move. Free now, he extended his wings and took to the sky.