The Flames of Dragons

by Josh VanBrakle

  Iren rode up to the palanquin. A call rang out and spread across the army. The men stopped. A soldier in lamellar armor stepped forward and drew his katana.

  Iren leapt off his borrowed horse and pulled out his own weapon. The advancing soldier stopped midstride. A moment ago he’d been set to cut down this peasant for daring to interrupt them. Now he was caught in dishonor. Every Maantec knew Iren’s sword.

  “Tell me your name,” Iren said. He tried to make his voice as confident as he could. The soldiers needed to be impressed with him, and more important, Melwar needed to know who was out here.

  “I am Daichi Kui, commander of this army.”

  “Then you are its leader?”

  Daichi bowed. That was something. He still had his katana out though. “I am not,” he said. “I serve Shogun Melwar.”

  “I see,” Iren replied. “I confess myself disappointed in you, Daichi. Have you so little honor that you would follow a shogun when your emperor stands before you?”

  Daichi looked up while keeping his body inclined. His eyes widened. His gaze settled on Iren’s sword, then his hair, and then at last on his sky blue eyes. “Emperor Saito?” he murmured.

  The palanquin’s folds flew open. Melwar stepped out, dressed in a plum-colored shirt with the symbol of a mountain on its back. “Why have we stopped?” he demanded, though Iren knew the Maantec lord had heard everything.

  “Hello, Katashi,” Iren said. He didn’t bow at all. The soldiers within earshot gasped. No one referred to Melwar by his first name. It was unforgivable to address a man of his station so loosely.

  Melwar stared at Iren with wrath. “What is this pest, Daichi? Why have you not slain him?”

  Daichi went to the ground. “Shogun, he has the Muryozaki. He claims to be the Maantec emperor.”

  “Emperor Saito is dead,” Melwar said. “The traitor Rondel Thara murdered him.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” Iren cut in. “I’m the Holy Dragon Knight, and by tradition the Holy Dragon Knight is also the Maantec emperor.”

  Melwar’s eyes were slits. “Only because the Muryozaki was passed down through the royal Saito bloodline, a bloodline that ended with the emperor’s death. Whoever carries that sword now is just another Dragon Knight, not someone worthy of being the emperor.”

  “I don’t know if I’m worthy or not, but I do know this.” Iren held up the Muryozaki so as many men in Melwar’s army could see it as possible. He put all his effort into making his voice carry across the fields. “Emperor Saito’s bloodline has not died out! It carries on in me. My name is Akio Saito! I am Iren Saito’s son! I am the Holy Dragon Knight, and I am the rightful Maantec emperor!”

  Melwar scoffed. “Anyone can make such claims. That does not make them true. Daichi! This man has sinned against all Maantecs by besmirching the name of our exalted emperor. Regain our people’s honor and kill him at once!”

  Daichi stood and raised his sword. He stepped toward Iren.

  That was far enough. Iren loosed a torrent of magic. White light swirled around him, lifting higher and higher into the air. Iren wanted every soldier, even those in the back of the army, to see it.

  “Will you kill your emperor, Daichi?” Iren asked. “Will you murder Iren Saito’s son?”

  Daichi looked from Iren to Melwar and back again. His head kept swapping between them. On the one hand, Melwar was a known quantity. On the other, Iren’s claim, while unproven, put Iren on top. If Daichi attacked, he risked eternal dishonor by striking the emperor. If he held, he risked equal dishonor by refusing the shogun. He had no good move.

  That was why Iren made one instead. He ended his spell and looked at Melwar. “Katashi, you and I know each other. I know what you want here. You also know I have no proof that I’m Iren Saito’s son. That’s why I propose a duel of champions. Let our fight settle this war and leadership of the Maantecs.”

  The faintest smile crossed Melwar’s lips. “I should not sully myself on a commoner,” he said, “but if it will demonstrate my authority, I will accept. Daichi, hold the men here. When I slay this fool, bring them forward. We will annihilate the humans forever.”

  Daichi, clearly glad to have the decision taken out of his hands, bowed to both Iren and Melwar and retreated back to the army’s main line. Iren and Melwar walked together away from the army to give themselves plenty of room.

  “You know, Iren,” Melwar said when they had gone far enough that they couldn’t see the army anymore, “there was a time when I believed you would lead the restoration of our people. To think you now stand so firmly against it. I must admit my disappointment.”

  “There was a time when I believed in you as well,” Iren replied. “How childish that feeling seems now.”

  “Hate me if you want, but I am doing what you should have done. I am acting in the best interests of our people, the people you just claimed to rule. What do you suppose would result if you were to win this contest? Humans would go on hating Maantecs. We would go on having barely enough hardscrabble land to survive. I am giving our people what they deserve. You would sentence them to endless punishment.”

  “Never,” Iren said. “I was able to find friendship among humans and Kodamas. If someone like me can do it, why can’t the rest of them?”

  Melwar scoffed. “Because they have pride and honor where you have none.”

  “If pride and honor compel you to commit genocide, then perhaps we’re better off without them. Or more likely, you have no idea what those words really mean.”

  “You intend to debate semantics with me?”

  “Not at all. There’s nothing left to debate.”

  “Yes, I agree.”

  Melwar stopped walking. He reached for his hip, where no solid weapon sat. A shadow billowed around his hand, and he revealed a shifting, smoking blade.

  Iren drew the Muryozaki. He’d battled Melwar before in sparring sessions in Hiabi. The noble was a master swordsman. More problematic, he excelled at No Mind, a fighting style that sacrificed conscious thought in exchange for instantaneous reactions. Rondel could have bested it by planning her moves in advance and tricking Melwar’s instinctual mind, but Iren wasn’t that skilled a tactician. If Melwar used No Mind, Iren wasn’t sure he could overcome it.

  But Melwar wouldn’t use No Mind. He’d taught it to Iren, and Iren could enter the trance-like state even faster than Melwar could. In this life-or-death battle, it was too risky a strategy for the cautious shogun.

  That left only the conclusion that Melwar would rely on his shadow magic. The noble had used those abilities in a practice bout with Iren the night they’d met, and that match had ended with Iren helpless before Melwar’s blade. He couldn’t let that happen this time.

  A screeching neigh stopped the battle before it began. Melwar and Iren both faced the sound. A riderless horse galloped toward them. Iren thought for a moment that it was the one Dirio had given him, but the roan was back with Daichi. This one was different.

  The animal charged straight for Iren. He groaned. He knew who it was.

  The horse shrank and rose up on two legs as it transformed into Minawë. When her green hair emerged, Melwar curled his upper lip in a sneer. “Kodama,” he spat. “You must be the one who hid like a coward while attacking my ships.”

  Minawë ignored the shogun. She jabbed a finger into Iren’s chest. “What are you doing?” she asked. “I thought we were going to face him as a team.”

  “This is the only way, Minawë,” Iren said. “Even if we worked together to defeat him, it would hold no meaning. He has nine thousand Maantecs under his command. We can’t overcome them all. I’m fighting him for leadership of the Maantecs. I’ll win them over as the Maantec emperor.”

  Minawë balled her hands into fists. “You are the most selfish moron I have ever met!”

  There was a time when he would have argued with her. Today he simply looked her in the eye, smiled sadly, and said, “I know.”

  She stepped back. The challenge in her ex
pression was gone. Fear—and maybe a little admiration—replaced it. “You don’t have to do this,” she said. “I would have fought alongside you to the end.”

  Iren nodded. “I love you.”

  Minawë’s face colored. She looked at the ground a moment. Then she raised her eyes and grinned. “I love you too. Now get out there and win, moron.”

  The right side of Iren’s mouth lifted. “Right.” He faced Melwar. “Ready?”

  Melwar shrugged. “You seem to be the distracted one.”

  “Not anymore.”

  The Maantecs squared off. Minawë retreated to a safe distance, but she didn’t return to Tropos. Whatever the outcome, she would stay and witness it.

  Melwar’s sword twisted and seethed as the pair traced a large circle. The shogun had used that weapon against Iren in their practice match. He’d combined it with shadow magic to make both sword and swordsman as insubstantial as smoke—a Shadow Form. Iren had passed right through Melwar, nearly getting decapitated in the process.

  That had to be Melwar’s plan. He would use Shadow Form to lure Iren in, avoid his strikes, and then counter when Iren was exposed. That’s why Melwar wasn’t attacking.

  If Melwar wanted to fight that way, so be it. Shadow Form had to require magic to maintain, so the shogun wouldn’t use it unless he felt threatened. At this distance, with the two of them not yet trading blows, he was probably solid. A fast ranged attack, launched before Melwar cast his spell, could end the fight in one blow.

  Iren channeled magic into his right index finger. It was the fastest technique he had, and while it lacked the strength to kill, it could knock Melwar down. It might even knock him unconscious if it struck him in the head.

  Iren’s hand flashed up, and the shot lanced out. More than a hundred feet separated Iren and Melwar, yet the beam crossed the space in less than a second.

  The shot passed cleanly through the Maantec lord. Melwar smiled.

  Iren’s brow furrowed. Had Melwar been keeping Shadow Form active the whole time? It seemed unlikely. Melwar wasn’t the type to waste magic, especially when he knew Iren had large magical reserves. In a battle of endurance, needless spells in the early stages would guarantee defeat.

  So how had Melwar done it?

  The shogun didn’t wait for Iren to figure it out. Melwar put his hand out in front of him, palm up, and a long, slender knife appeared in midair above it. The knife was black and without thickness; Iren could only see it because it was at a slight angle to him.

  The Shadow Knife launched at Iren, spiraling end over end. Iren easily avoided it, but as he circled Melwar, he saw the knife wheel around and head back for him. Melwar created four more knives, and they all spun toward Iren.

  Iren grimaced. Those blades were meant to keep him at a distance. His beam attack had been too slow after all. A second was plenty of time for a master swordsman like Melwar to react to a spell and cast one of his own. Iren would need to close with Melwar in order to attack him.

  Using magic to boost his speed, Iren flashed toward the shogun. The Shadow Knives couldn’t keep up with him, and he got inside Melwar’s guard. The Muryozaki danced as Iren sent a dozen slashes through all parts of Melwar’s body.

  None of them landed. They all passed harmlessly through Shadow Form.

  The knives approached. Iren dodged four of them, but the last one cut a thin line across his arm. The Muryozaki healed the wound, but the distraction was enough for Melwar to make an attack of his own. His sword stabbed out, and Iren blocked it.

  The shifting blade, though, passed through Iren’s guard. He ducked just in time to avoid a beheading.

  This was his chance! Melwar must have become solid to make his attack. From his dropped position, Iren fired another quick beam from his index finger. It struck Melwar in the stomach, and the Maantec lord doubled over. Iren swung the Muryozaki at Melwar’s left arm to end the fight.

  His blade passed through without resistance. Melwar stepped back. He didn’t look in pain.

  While Iren was staring at Melwar, the knives spun back around. One pierced him in the shoulder. He cursed instinctively, but then he realized there was no pain.

  Realization dawned. Shadow Form made Melwar immune to attack, but it worked the other way too. Melwar couldn’t affect the world while the spell was active. Even for ranged attacks, he needed to end Shadow Form for them to work.

  Melwar tapped his stomach with his hand, signaling that he was solid. “Not a bad shot,” he admitted. “Too bad you cannot hurt me with it.”

  Iren frowned. Of course. Shadow Form was like smoke, and smoke could take whatever shape it desired. When Melwar became solid again, Shadow Form would remake him in an unharmed state. Even if Iren managed to hit Melwar, the man could heal as quickly as Iren could. Shadow Form was an amazing ability, on par with Rondel’s Lightning Sight.

  But it wasn’t invincible. There was one way to defeat Melwar: a lethal, one-hit strike.

  No holding back, then. Iren fired off a quick beam to put Melwar in Shadow Form, then charged forward to attack at close range. The Muryozaki stabbed, but after that, Iren switched to kicks and punches with his open hand. Melwar let the blows pass through him. All the while, Iren kept the Muryozaki in reserve.

  Iren paused in his assault, and as expected, Melwar countered. His shadowy sword sliced horizontally at Iren’s side.

  Even as Iren pretended to block it though, he backflipped over the attack. He landed just as the blade passed through where he’d been standing. He thrust the Muryozaki at Melwar’s face. It was over.

  Then the ice beneath his feet exploded into shrapnel.

  Iren staggered back, bleeding from both legs. Where had that come from? There’d been no ice when he’d left the ground. The weather was too warm for it anyway. Melwar used shadow magic, so he couldn’t have created it. What was going on?

  He was still puzzling out the ice when a wall of water appeared to his right and smashed into him like a tsunami. Though he and Melwar fought in a field, the wave from nowhere pulled Iren off the ground and sent him tumbling.

  Iren broke free with a blast of light magic, but before the grasses stopped spinning, the next attack hit him. A burst of fire erupted from Melwar’s hand, and it engulfed Iren’s torso. He raised his arms to shield his face, and his skin peeled off as the tremendous heat burned away his shirt.

  This was insane. How could Melwar use shadow, ice, water, and fire magics all at the same time? No one Iren had ever met, not even Rondel, could use more than one or two kinds of magic.

  Iren retreated. He needed a moment to heal and come up with a new plan. Melwar had abilities Iren hadn’t thought possible. Shadow Form was difficult to deal with by itself. Combined with all these other spells, it was beyond what Iren could handle.

  Melwar must have known that, because the Maantec lord charged. A ball of flame and a spike of ice launched from his hands at the same time. Iren barely managed to dodge them. He ran for distance, but then he slipped on a patch of ice. He struggled to his feet and looked about in dismay. Similar frozen spots dotted more than a third of the field. Without careful maneuvering, Iren’s high-speed runs would land him on one and send him skidding.

  Iren frowned. Melwar had figured out that Iren’s only advantage was his superior speed. With one spell, Melwar had neutralized that strength.

  There was only one hope for victory now. Iren would have to run Melwar out of magic. Melwar wasn’t a Dragon Knight. As impressive as he was with four magic types under his control, Melwar was drawing from the same well to create them. All those spells, especially the ice patches, had to require a lot of energy. By contrast, Iren had used little. If he could keep forcing Melwar to cast spells at this intensity, the Maantec lord would exhaust himself.

  It was going to be a painful fight, but it was the only way. Iren took up a defensive stance and prepared for Melwar’s onslaught.

  Melwar raised his unarmed right hand and pointed a finger at Iren. A drop of water sprouted from
the finger’s tip. Iren cocked his head, confused. What could a drop of water do?

  A shockwave reverberated across the field. Iren felt a fast, sharp pain, and he dropped to the ground. Blood poured out of parallel holes in both his chest and back.

  Melwar approached. Water droplets formed on all his fingers. Then, one after another, they shot into Iren.

  Iren opened his mouth to scream, but his lungs were full of blood. The dirt around him was soaked with it too. The Muryozaki tried to heal him, but Melwar fired the water shots faster than the sword could keep up.

  Iren’s vision grayed. He was going to die.

  The ground around him shook. The water shots stopped, and with those extra seconds, the Muryozaki healed him.

  Raising his head, Iren saw a pair of trees swinging their limbs at Melwar. They couldn’t hurt the noble with Shadow Form activated, but at least they had forced him to stop attacking.

  Minawë rushed forward. “I’ll take it from here,” she said.

  Iren struggled to his feet. Even though the Muryozaki had removed his injuries, he felt exhausted. He’d never come that close to death. It had taken more magic than he’d expected to recover.

  “You can’t,” he replied. “I have to see this through one on one. It’s the only way the Maantecs will accept me.”

  “They won’t accept you if you’re dead,” Minawë retorted. “Besides, do you think I’m going to stand back and let Melwar kill you?”

  Bursts of flame shot from Melwar’s hands and caught the trees alight. From those small fires, he turned them into a pair of infernos. They dissolved to ash.

  Minawë next created a barrage of vines to attack the shogun. Brown seeds covered them, and when Melwar attacked them with flame, they didn’t burn. Instead, they burst into still more vines that wrapped around him. Minawë closed her fist, and nine-inch spikes sprouted all over the green mass.

  Melwar walked through the vines into the open. He smiled. “Seeds that respond to fire,” he said. “That was clever. I wonder how well they handle cold.”