Age of Valor: Dragon Song

by D. E. Morris

  Jaryn sighed and offered a hand to Ashlynn to help her to her feet. “I think we should return to the castle as well. There, we can help these other dragon riders and elves figure out what to do next.”

  The journey east to Altaine was an easy one. There were not enough horses for everyone, so the elves were forced to fly with Cavalon and Luella when there were no more dragons left to mount. Jaryn and Ashlynn rode Snow Steps together, leading the charge with mounted soldiers a few meters ahead to discourage any that might see the party approaching. As they passed by a cluster of mountains to the north of their trek, the dragons were inclined to fly to them likely for comfort and rest, but their riders kept them well in check.

  “Once we're all safely at Altaine,” said Ashlynn, “we should let them go.” She watched the great winged beasts soaring above and felt her heart aching for them. “It isn't natural for them to be under the control of humans. They should be wild and free.”

  “Aye,” agreed Jaryn, a slight hesitation in his voice, “but they may no longer be safe if they're free.”

  She rested her head back against his shoulder and sighed. Their world had been moving in a positive direction when it concerned dragons and Gaels. Now, in the blink of an eye, the momentum had been reversed. Word would soon spread and likely be greatly exaggerated, painting dragons and Gaels as horrid, uncontrollable monsters, and they would again be hunted.

  Lilia and Wessely were among those who greeted the returning group, Wessely quick to show people where to go to find empty quarters and Lilia ready with servants to fetch whatever was needed. As things began to sort themselves out and the courtyard cleared, Ashlynn stood looking up at the castle with those who had become part of her extended family. Dragons circled high overhead, their scales reflecting the light of the midday sun just as brilliantly as the golden spires of Altaine. The sight made her both joyous and burdened at the same time.

  “Where's Misuzu?” asked Lilia.

  “She went with Gianara,” Jaryn told her absently, watching the dragons as well, no doubt lost in his own thoughts. His casual comment made the winged girl lift a brow.

  “And who is Gianara?”

  “A friend,” replied Connor. He stepped away from his drackling, left in the care of one of the dragon riders, and grinned up at Lilia, taller than he was, then glanced at the colorful plumage on her back. “I don't think we've met, my lady.” He took her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. “Connor McKane.”

  Lilia blinked, color rushing to her cheeks. “High King Connor McKane of Ibays?”

  “One and the same.”

  “But...you're just a boy.” It was Connor's turn to redden. Lilia realized the words she'd meant only to think had slipped past her lips and curtsied deeply, her head bent to hide her embarrassment. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I am Lilia...Lilia Arterberry.”

  Despite his own discomfort, there was amusement in his eyes when she finally looked up. “I am just a boy, Lady Lilia, and you are just a girl. Hopefully someday we will grow to be as fine a man and woman as these two.”

  “Will Cailin be all right?” Wessely asked Jaryn and Ashlynn, watching her be carried inside.

  “Jaryn said the elves helped save her life,” Ashlynn told him. “She hit her head rather hard so she may be asleep for some time, but she will recover.” She touched her father's arm. “You should go to her.”

  His brow wrinkled. “Why would I...?”

  “Papa.” Ashlynn gave him a knowing look, one that appeared to fluster him for the quickest moment. “Go on. It will be good for her to have a friendly face there when she wakes.” Wessely nodded, avoiding Ashlynn's eyes, then followed after Cailin's attendants.

  “I suppose I should find a ship to take me home,” Connor sighed when it was silent for too long.

  Ashlynn turned to him with a tight-lipped smile. “That can be easily provided. You should know, there have been rumors that your advisers have called one of your older cousins to court. Don't ask me which one, I have yet to hear. They are petitioning him to challenge your right to the throne.” She expected outrage from the boy, but he only sighed and shrugged.

  “A cousin, eh? That's going to involve a lot of meetings and a lot more paperwork than I care to deal with. If he wants it, he can have it. Whichever of my idiotic cousins it may be.”

  “Think carefully on this,” Jaryn warned. “Ironedge is off the coast of Ibays and may fall under its territory. How sympathetic can we expect any of your family to be should we need to rally for Gaels and dragons alike? We may need you on the throne.”

  Connor heaved a heavy sigh. “Freedom was mine for a moment. If that's the case, we may yet have another fight on our hands. Can I count on the support of Siness, should it come to it?”

  “Of course,” said Ashlynn quickly. She glanced at Luella and Cavalon, both of them in conversation with a group of elves. “I daresay you would have it from Caedia and Braemar, as well.”

  “A few of the elves and some of the dragons and their riders are coming with me. I'd offer to take more, but we have little to share.” Ashlynn began to speak, but Connor held up a hand. “That was not a manipulation, I promise. Perhaps it is best we are so poor until this mess of who will bear the title of high king is settled.”

  “Whatever you need,” Ashlynn promised, “never hesitate. We are sister nations, after all.”

  “Aye,” he grinned. “That we are.”

  Jaryn extended a hand to Connor, but the boy ignored it and threw his arms around him, surprising Jaryn into speechlessness. “Thank you,” Connor said in his ear. “This was a grand adventure and one I'll not soon forget.” Jaryn returned the embrace with a warm smile. “It was nice to have a father again. Your son is blessed to have you.” Pulling away from Jaryn, the boy smiled at Ashlynn. “Both of you.”

  Jaryn clasped him on the shoulder. “Come, let's get you and your refugees patched up and well supplied with healing tonics before you fly home.” Connor beckoned the man holding his drackling along and several others followed, all of them, it seemed, content to head to Ibays for awhile.

  Fairly alone now, Lilia stepped close to Ashlynn and linked arms with her, both of them watching after the two as they made their way into the castle. “Is now a good time to ask about your injuries?” asked Lilia solicitously.

  “I told you, I fell.”

  “On what?” Though she kept her voice low, Lilia looked sideways at Ashlynn in disbelief. “I saw the cuts to your legs and arms when I went to your room and you were changing, Ashlynn. What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  The younger woman narrowed her eyes. “Fine, don't explain yourself to me, your friend. Have fun explaining them to your husband.” Lilia let her go and walked away to join Luella and Cavalon, leaving Ashlynn alone to feel the panic rising once more inside of her. When the final torch exploded on Mirasean, she'd done her best to block Luella from what she could, knowing that the blast could certainly kill her if it was close enough or strong enough. It had been instinct to protect her friend as she had been doing all along as the speckled green earth dragon no one recognized. The explosion and the debris that flew because of it lanced through her scales that had once been tough as armor, leaving her injured and in great pain. As she floated on her back in the ocean, she wondered if she would be able to even fly. Hearing Luella's voice in her head had been the shock she needed. Whether or not Luella knew she had spoken to a Gael or tried to converse with a full blooded dragon was a mystery, but Ashlynn flew home as quickly as she could once Rowan helped her out of the water and into the sky.

  As soon as she reached Altaine, she realized there was no landing where she'd departed from before; soldiers were once again milling about, squires shining armor and polishing swords. She had to fly down to the beach, the part where almost no one went even in the summer, and land in the water to shift. The private shoreline was too small for her to land, and by the time her feet hit solid ground, she was soaked through and bleeding from wounds she
'd sustained as a dragon. For a time, all she could do was lay on the beach and cry. She was freezing and desperately needed dry clothing, but she was too overwhelmed by loss to be able to move. Mirasean, an island that held nearly an entire race of creatures, had been destroyed in mere moments. Men, women, and children, both elvish and human alike, had lost their lives, along with countless dragons. She'd seen it all, all of the carnage Jaryn was glad she'd avoided. Deeper still in her heart, she mourned for her own loss. There was no doubt in her now that her tie to the Element of Earth was forever severed.

  Killian came upon her quickly, having seen her leave and keeping a weather eye out for her return. He spoke no words to her, only undid his thick woolen cloak from around his neck and draped it across her shoulders. He then helped her up onto the back of his horse and walked it back to the castle. No one questioned him bringing a woman up to his quarters, her face well hidden under her hood, and it was there he kept her until she was calm and he could get her safely back to her own rooms without anyone seeing her. When Killian found Lilia and sent her to assist Ashlynn, she walked in to find her covered in injuries. The younger woman was right. Ashlynn would have a hard time explaining them to Jaryn.

  Everyone else looked to have everything under control as she glanced around. Without a word to anyone, she slipped inside and hurried up to her rooms, needing the security and the privacy of their familiar four walls. Jaryn had to know; she had to tell him. She'd tried to, she reasoned, before they'd begun the journey back to Altaine. Perhaps the interruption was divine intervention. If it became common knowledge that Lochlainn, a baby, was now the bearer of the powers of the Element of Earth, he would become an easy target for anyone looking to end Elemental lines. She would constantly worry after him now - what good would it do to make Jaryn carry that burden as well? Yet, if she kept this information to herself, how would Lochlainn ever be trained in the way he should be? Worse still, what would happen when her kindred Elementals called upon her the next time something urgent happened, as it was certainly sure to?

  She wrung her hands, picking and pushing back the cuticles on her fingers. There was no good end to this from any way she looked at it. Picturing the look on people's faces when they found out, the pity she could imagine in their eyes, her panic slowly darkened into anger. It wasn't right that her gifts should be taken from her and thrust upon a child who wasn't even old enough to understand what it all meant. It didn't matter that her situation was mirroring that of her own childhood. Her mother died when she was barely four years old and she hadn't understood what she'd inherited. The knowledge of what she was had been kept from her and it only served in making her angry and bitter with Wessely for a time. She couldn't bear the thought of her son having those feelings toward her.

  Was this the terrible choice the mysterious woman, Brigid, spoke of? To tell the truth or continue to keep it hidden? How could it lead down a path of destruction or peace? With a shake of her head, she wondered how peace was even possible now. Angry, she picked up a glass vase from her vanity and threw it as hard as she could against the far wall, shouting out her frustration as it shattered into sharp little pieces.

  The shadows laughed at her.

  Ashlynn stared at the place on the wall where the glass had broken, seeing tiny shards of it stuck there, somehow glittering despite the darkness in the corner.

  “Poor angry boy,” spoke the shadow, taking on the familiar form of Tadhg. It had no face, no real arms or legs to it beneath its flowing cape, but Ashlynn knew that voice and had long since grown familiar with the sight of his ghost. “The Celts have been damaged,” he drawled, his tone mocking, “one of its limbs has been severed.” He laughed, shadowy fingers reaching out to brush the stone where the glass had broken. “They have always thought themselves so...invincible. No one is that safe. Why, look at the elves, for example. How many of them are left? Enough to rise up again and be a great people, or will they die out like the rest of their mythical kindred and be forgotten to history? The world is changing. You can try to prolong the inevitable, but there is no fighting it in the end. Unicorns will disappear, elves will disappear...dragons and all their Gaelic halflings will disappear, too.”

  “The Celts took great injury today,” Ashlynn agreed, cold anger in her voice, “but they are not so easily overtaken. The rest of our nations still stand strong – Siness still stands strong and she always will. Her heart will continue to beat as long as me and my family reign here. You and your dark master can throw whatever you like at us. You will not make me lose faith in my Giver any more, nor will you make me believe He has deserted me. I know your dark tricks and I will not fall prey to them ever again.”

  “Do not worry,” purred a new voice, one that was deeper and darker than that which she had spoken to before. This voice was more familiar than Tadhg's and sent a rush of cold fear down her spine. Shadows multiplied all around her, clinging to the walls and speaking to her from every single one of them, making her turn fully around to seek the origin, trying to find which one was really Merrik. “Siness will fall soon enough.”

  Shadows began to take on solid form, all of them wearing the face of the man who had killed Emiline and was responsible for the death of Mei Xing and Nòe. Before she knew what was happening, she was surrounded by Merrik, unable to tell which, if any, was the real person. The figure in front of her stepped closest, leering down at her with dark eyes full of confident glee. She stepped back and he took another step forward. Ashlynn backed away again and Merrik moved even closer, driving her back until she was pressed against the wall, into the very corner she had been fearing for the past two years. When it looked like he would reach out and grab her, she ducked under his arm and rushed to the other side of the room, pulling a dagger out of a drawer in her vanity. Her show of confidence only made him laugh at her. “Put that down, little girl, or someone is liable to get hurt.”

  The door to her room began to open. She saw Jaryn for a split second before Merrik reached out his hand, slamming the door shut without even touching it and sliding the lock in place. “Ashlynn?” Jaryn questioned. He pounded on the door and called her name again. “Ashlynn? Are you all right?” She knew he'd seen her standing far across the room with a weapon in her hand. There was no way it could have been her to close the door on him. “Ashlynn!”

  “So tell me,” Merrik continued, unaffected by the noise Jaryn was making, “how do I look - for a dead man?”

  Ashlynn gripped her dagger tightly. “I've seen dragon dung that looked better.”

  Once more, Merrik laughed. “Ah yes, there is that fighting spirit.” All levity drained from his face. Three holes opened up in his black doublet showing unblemished skin before it, too, tore open and oozed oily blood. She watched in horror as it began to trickle in little black rivers from the corners of his mouth and fall in rich droplets on the rug. Looking down, Merrik made a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a cough that spluttered blood in a thin mist before him. “I am truly sorry about the mess.”

  Trying to keep her fear from overtaking her, Ashlynn forced herself to remain calm and meet Merrik's eyes, ignoring the blood and the mirror images of him that surrounded the room like an audience. “I knew you weren't dead,” she growled, clutching her dagger so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. “I knew it wouldn't be that easy.”

  “Ashlynn, open the door! Guards!”

  “Do you want a medal for your brilliance?” Merrik asked, advancing toward her in slow steps. He glanced at the door. “I must say, he certainly is tenacious. Much like you with this pitiful belief you cling to in a god that you can neither see nor speak to. Some may call it foolishness. What I call foolish is trusting in your own kind so unflinchingly. People will fail you. They will always fail you, just as you will fail them.”

  Speaking low, careful to enunciate each word, she asked. “What do you want?”

  The blood on Merrik's face reversed direction, drops almost to the floor floating upward to join th
e stream that was flowing back into his mouth before dissipating altogether. “I want a great many things, though until recently I was quite uncertain as to how I would procure them. You have provided me with such great entertainment these past two years. If only you could have seen your face that night on Mirasean.”

  Ashlynn gasped, nearly forgetting her defensive stance but composing herself quickly. “That was you...”

  “Of course it was me. It was me on that ship you kept seeing so near your port, and it was me who flew the banner that boasted of the death of that weak little Volar. You see, this is why you get no medal. You are smart but not smart enough. Tadhg is dead. The real kind of dead. I have been the one playing with you all along.”

  “And the demons you control...the ones who fight your battles for you and take the faces of those familiar to us? What of them?”

  The question made Merrik's lips curl into a dark grin. “I must admit that I am flattered you would think me powerful enough to control demons. Call me what you will, girl, but I am not the Deceiver and they are not demons. Though some believe they are legends, they are as real as you and I. They have been called by many names over the ages, but they prefer to be called Chrynir.”

  Ashlynn's head tilted, her brows drawn together. “Chrynir? The dark elves who were twisted by the old religion and its magics? They died out generations ago.”

  “That is precisely what they wanted the world to believe. It was a matter of biding their time, waiting for a moment of opportunity to align themselves with someone of great power. I promised them supremacy over their cousins, the elves who lived in the world under no threat or fear of annihilation. They were beginning to grow impatient, but today I have made good on my word and they will be my servants for life because of it.”