Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons)

by Daniel Arenson

  Clay huts clustered together, their roofs topped with straw. It was a place barely worth stopping to piss at. Three reed boats floated in a river, and goats brayed in a pen. A few barbarians stood in the dirt, firing arrows up at the demons; most hid in their huts. Raem wanted to fly onward, but his demons bustled, drooled, begged for flesh.

  Raem sighed and stroked the creature he rode.

  "Very well." He pointed down at the village and raised his voice. "Land, my friends! Land and feed."

  They descended upon the village in a spiral of decay, a dripping tornado of hissing, snapping mouths and raining drool. A few villagers tried to flee, firing arrows into the unholy swarm. Demons descended upon them, ripping off limbs, pulling out entrails, crunching bones in their jaws. Other villagers tried to flee across the fields. A coiling centipede, as long as a fallen oak, wrapped around one fleeing child and squeezed, slicing her to segments. A twitching bundle of arms and mouths, its insect wings buzzing, flew toward one family, regurgitated a net of dripping webs to trap them, and thrust a metal tongue like a tube into the screaming mass. Huts collapsed. Animals screamed and died. Gobbets of meat flew across the village and blood soaked the earth.

  Raem's mount, the constructed bat, still hovered above the village. She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes begging, tongue lolling. Sitting in the saddle, Raem stroked her.

  "Very well, Anai," he said. He had named her after his dead wife, for this creature had become his new companion. "You may feed."

  Not wasting another heartbeat, the beast plunged down, her two spine ridges bulging. She descended upon a screaming, legless man; a second demon was guzzling down the legs a few feet away. The man tried to crawl away, but Anai pounced upon him, thrust down her mouth, and ripped out flesh. The creature wept as she fed, perhaps still remembering her old human soul, but she fed nonetheless.

  When they took flight again, the village was gone, its houses toppled, all its life consumed. Piles of bricks, bloodstains, clumps of hair, and steaming demon waste were all that remained.

  The host flew on.

  "Soon, Anai," Raem said, riding his mount across the sky. He caressed the beast's wispy, pale hair. "Soon you will feed upon the sweet meat of dragons."

  Their appetite whet, their bellies still grumbling, the demons flew north, heading across the river . . . heading to Requiem.

  LAIRA

  Laira knelt above her sister, stroking the girl's hair.

  "Issari," she whispered, and her tears fell, splashing against the young woman's cheek. "My sister."

  Only eighteen winters old, Issari was younger than Laira, but her limbs were longer, and even bruised and cut and famished, her body seemed stronger. A braid hung across her shoulder, thick and black, and her skin was pale.

  "You grew up in a palace," Laira whispered. "You grew up in wealth, a roof always over your head, food always on your plate. And you are beautiful. And I love you."

  Having fled Eteer as a toddler, Laira had grown up cold, hungry, neglected, and now—in adulthood—her body still bore testament to those hardships. She stood shy of five feet, her body frail and weak, her limbs stick thin. Her hair, which her chieftain would crop short, was only now growing out, falling across her brow and ears. Her jaw was still crooked, broken years ago, leaving her mouth slanted and her chin thrust to the side—an injury that would never heal. Yet Issari was still pure. Issari was the only pure thing Laira still had from her old home across the sea.

  "I lost a brother today," she whispered. "But I found a sister."

  Issari mumbled, lying upon a fur rug beneath King's Column. The others stood all around—Jeid, his children, and the newcomers. Some stared at Issari, and others whispered amongst themselves of the demon threat crawling across the land. Grief at Sena's death and joy at finding Issari filled Laira, but fear coiled within her too. War was coming; she smelled it on the wind, a faint stench.

  "Wake, Issari." Laira kissed the girl's cheek. "Wake and tell us what you know."

  Dorvin paced restlessly beside them, his boots thumping upon the marble tiles. A young man, his black hair falling across his brow, he scowled and clenched his fists. His eyes burned. "She already told us enough." Dorvin hawked and spat. "An army of demons. Flying here. Very well then! We fight. We take flight now. We meet them in battle." He raised his fist. "We blow fire and we—"

  Jeid slapped the young man's nape. "Silence, boy. We don't fly to war before hearing more." The king turned toward Alina, the young druid. "Is the drink ready? Issari needs healing. Now."

  The druid nodded. She stared up from the shadows of her hood, her lavender eyes glowing in the sunlight. She stepped forth, robes swaying, holding a clay bowl. Within was steaming water thick with healing herbs.

  "Help your sister drink," Alina said, offering the mug to Laira. "This will give her strength."

  Laira accepted the medicine and tilted the bowl over Issari's lips.

  "Drink, sister." Gently, she poured the liquid into Issari's mouth. "Drink a little."

  Issari twitched in her sleep, mumbled something unintelligible, and sputtered. With Laira's guidance, the young woman drank a few sips, coughed, and opened her eyes.

  At once Issari sprang up to a sitting position, her eyes widening. "Demons!" she cried out. Her voice rang across the camp. "An army of demons. We must flee. Dragons of Requiem! We—"

  Her eyes rolled back, and Laira had to catch her to stop her from falling. Gently, she pulled the girl closer to King's Column and propped her up against the pillar. Issari flitted between sleep and wakefulness, mumbling about an unholy host, of her father's cruelty, and of an evil to destroy the world.

  Laira sat by her sister, gently letting her sip her medicine, holding her close as she trembled. Finally Issari sat with open eyes, breathing deeply, her hand clutching Laira's. Her cheeks were still pale, and blood still stained her tunic and hair.

  When the others stepped closer, Laira waved them back. "Give us room! Let her breathe."

  Issari took deep breaths, calming herself. Laira allowed only Jeid to step close. The king knelt before Issari, his eyes somber.

  "How far is this demon army?" he said, voice low.

  Issari swallowed, squeezed Laira's hand, and spoke softly. "I don't know. I shook them off three days ago in a dark forest. I've been flying since, seeking Requiem. If I found it, they'll find it too. They can pick up any scent; their noses are more powerful than any hound's. I disguised my scent with a bear's pelt, but they'll smell this place." She shivered. "They'll smell us, or they'll see the pillar rising from the forest, and they'll be here soon. Already their scouts scour the land. They will not stop." She trembled. "My father will never stop hunting us. He's fallen to madness."

  After a moment of silence, everyone started talking at once.

  "We fly and take them head-on!" Dorvin was shouting, a grin splitting his face.

  "We should flee and hide!" said Bryn, a young woman with fiery red hair.

  One man was trembling. "We're all going to die. Oh stars, we're all going to die."

  Voices rose and soon everyone was crying out as one, demanding to flee, fight, or surrender. Jeid was urging calmness, but even the king couldn't silence the voices.

  Only Laira and Issari remained silent, sitting under the column. As the others shouted and waved their hands, Laira touched her sister's cheek.

  "Do you know who I am, Issari?" whispered. "Do you recognize me?"

  Issari stared at her, confused. Her eyes widened and tears streamed down her cheeks. She reached out a shaky finger to touch Laira's hair.

  "Are you . . . You're her." Issari gasped and pulled Laira into an embrace. "You're Laira. You're my Laira. You're my sweet sister. Thank Taal."

  Even as the others shouted, as fear and rage flowed across their camp, Laira smiled as she cried. She held Issari close and kissed her forehead. "It's me. We're together again."

  JEID

  For a long time, Jeid stood silently, listening to the others speak,
shout, and whisper.

  Some demanded to take flight now, to find the demons, to face them head-on. Others cried to flee, to hide in the forests in human forms, to dig holes and tunnels and wait until danger passed. Alina the druid, her eyes gleaming, kept speaking of a fabled settlement of Vir Requis in the west, Vir Requis who would help them. Hearing the commotion, several riders of the Goldtusk tribe joined their council; the fur-clad hunters normally camped farther east in the forest, serving Laira, their new chieftain, but now they too joined the argument, shouting that they could defeat any demonic army crawling across their land.

  And Jeid stood, listening to them all.

  What do we do? he thought, a chill inside him. Fight? Flee? Seek others to help us? He looked at his people: a couple dozen Vir Requis. With them fought only seventy rocs.

  Not even a hundred flying beasts, Jeid thought, heart sinking. Against a thousand demons. It had taken four dragons to defeat the demonic octopus; how could they face a thousand of those creatures?

  He closed his eyes, thinking of all those he had lost. His father. His wife. His daughter. He thought of the others who had died: the young man who had lost his leg, Prince Sena, Laira's mother, and many others across the world.

  So many Vir Requis already fallen. Will the last of us die now?

  He opened his eyes and looked at his people again. Dorvin was shouting louder, demanding they fly now to battle. Her staff raised, Alina was speaking of finding more Vir Requis in the west. Others were demanding they hide.

  Jeid ignored the calls, ignored the hands that grasped at his cloak. He turned back toward Issari. The young woman was sitting down, propped up against the column, wrapped in a cloak.

  Stars, she's so young, he thought. Barely more than a youth, yet she carries the fate of a kingdom on her shoulders.

  "Issari." He knelt before her. "Tell me everything you know of these demons. How did your father summon them? How does he control them? Why do they obey him?"

  The southern princess took a deep breath. She clutched her braid like a drowning woman holding on to a rope dangling off a boat. "I read about them in ancient clay tablets. All royal children of Eteer know the tale. Many years ago, the first Eteerian King imprisoned the Queen of Demons, the creature named Angel. She was once a being of great piety and light, a daughter of Taal himself, banished from his realm for her cruelty. In her underground prison, she bred and festered, creating a host of many creatures. She and her minions are bound to the throne of Eteer. Whoever sits upon that throne can command them." Issari took a shuddering breath. "For generations, no king or queen dared free this unholy legion. Until my father." She grimaced. "He hates Vir Requis so much—those he calls weredragons—that he summoned the demons to hunt us. I myself am one of your number."

  Shakily, Issari rose to her feet, took a deep breath, and shifted. White scales flowed across her, gleaming like mother of pearl. Snowy horns budded upon her head, and her claws clattered against the marble tiles. She looked at Jeid with deep green eyes. When the dragon spoke, the same high, soft voice emerged from her jaws.

  "You see now why I fled Eteer. Why he hunts me and Laira. Why he hunts Sena." Suddenly Issari blinked, looked around, and tilted her head. "Where is Sena? Laira . . . where is our brother?"

  Jeid fell silent. Laira—the young woman stood nearby among her fellow Goldtusk hunters—lowered her head, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  The white dragon stared from side to side,. Tears welled in her own eyes and flowed down her scaly cheeks.

  "Is Sena . . ." Issari trembled, scales clattering, and lost her magic. She knelt as a human, raised her head, and cried out hoarsely. "Sena!"

  Laira rushed toward her sister and embraced her. They whispered soft words to each other, weeping together.

  Jeid was about to approach them, to try to speak comforts, when a hand grabbed his arm. He turned to see Alina, the young druid. She stared at him from the shadows of her lavender hood. Her eyes, the same color as her raiment, seemed to shine with inner light.

  "My king, I have prayed to the stars, and their light has shone before me, illuminating a secret in the west. More hide there." Alina pulled back her hood, revealing long auburn hair that cascaded around her pale, oval face. Strings of beads hung from her staff, chinking in the wind. "Rumors of dragons in the west travel across the land, not only in the whispers of stars but also the talk of men. We must seek their aid if we are to fight."

  Laira approached slowly, still holding her sister. She stared at Jeid, her eyes now dry, and spoke in a voice both hard and brittle like a sliver of granite. "In the north too there is aid for Requiem. The Leatherwing tribe rules there upon Two Skull Mountain. They ride creatures they call pteros—flying beasts with no feathers, their bodies smooth and their snouts long, creatures as large as rocs. For many years, the chieftain of Leatherwing tried to marry his daughter to Chieftain Zerra, to forge an alliance between the two tribes." Laira raised her crooked chin. "I slew Zerra. I am now Chieftain of Goldtusk. I will forge an alliance with Leatherwing and we will fight the southern menace together."

  Jeid stared at them all, one by one. His children, Maev and Tanin, who approached with drawn blades. Laira and Issari, grieving sisters. Dorvin and Alina, two newcomers to their kingdom, already as dear to him as the others. A score of others, wanderers come home. They all gathered around, staring, awaiting his words.

  I lead them all, Jeid thought. And I must protect them all. I will not let Requiem perish.

  He addressed the crowd.

  "We've tamed the rocs of Goldtusk, but now a new enemy rises, an enemy more powerful than any we've faced, an enemy that threatens to crush Requiem. And we must leave this place." Murmurs rose from his people, and Jeid spoke louder. "We will not abandon King's Column nor our dream of Requiem, but this is not our battlefield. We must seek aid, and we must strike back against this cruel king who sends forth his evil. Three paths now lie before us. We must split into three groups." He paused for a deep breath. "We must seek more Vir Requis in the west. We must forge an alliance with the Leatherwing tribe in the north. And finally . . ." He turned to stare into Issari's eyes. "We must travel south, place Issari upon Eteer's throne, and command the demons back into the Abyss."

  MAEV

  She crossed her arms and spat. "No. I refuse. It's not going to happen."

  Her father grumbled and his beard bristled, making him seem even more like a grizzly bear. "You will do this, Maev. I'm not asking you. I'm commanding you. As your king and father."

  Maev snorted and turned away from him, thrusting out her bottom lip in defiance. "I obey nobody. And I refuse." She drew her sword. "I fly north with you. I fly to find the Leatherwing tribe, to fight in a great battle, to—"

  Jeid grabbed her and spun her back toward him. Rage twisted his face. "Maev, listen to me. We might not have a battle on our hands, only a slaughter. I need you to fly west with Dorvin and Alina. I need you to help them find the Vir Requis said to live there. If there's any hope for Requiem, it lies in finding others."

  She shoved him back, eyes stinging. "So you'll just send me off to safety, a herald of Requiem, rather than let me fight? I'm a fighter. I've fought and slain many rocs, demons, and tribesmen." She growled. "I'm the greatest warrior in Requiem."

  "Which is why I need you with Dorvin and Alina," he said. "How can I send only two dragons on this mission? They need your help, Maev. And . . . I need you to watch over them." He lowered his voice. "I don't know that I can trust them. I need my own blood on every path we take."

  Maev could scarcely believe his words. Across their camp, men and women were already becoming dragons and rising into the sky. They were heading out to war, yet how could Maev find glory far in the west? If demons could truly pick up the scent of dragons, they would surely follow the largest group north to Two Skull Mountain. That was where battle would rage. That was where Maev had to be. Not some guardian of two pups.

  She looked at all the others. "So Tanin and Issari w
ill return to Eteer and claim the throne; their glory will be eternal. So you and Laira will travel north to Two Skull Mountain, forge an alliance, and fight a great battle; forever your song will echo. And me?" She blinked furiously. "I'll be in the west, far from any epic battles, guarding a druid and a blockhead boy."

  She watched as the two approached, both still in human form. Dorvin walked with a swagger, a crooked grin on his face, chattering about finding a new group to lead. His sister was more subdued; holding her druid's staff, Alina sang soft prayers. When they drew closer, Dorvin winked at Maev.

  "Well, Maev, old beast," he said. "Looks like you and I part ways here." He puffed out his chest. "I'm off to find the others, become a hero, and win the war for us." He shook his head with mock sadness. "You probably won't survive long enough to see Alina and me return, what with all these demons swarming about, but you—"

  "I'm going with you." Maev spat in disgust and glared at her father. "Not that I want to."

  Dorvin's eyes widened and he raised his hands in indignation. "What?" He reeled toward Jeid too. "I'm not going west with her! I've seen feral mammoths less brutish than Maev. They smelled better too." He pinched his nose. "Don't send your daughter with me, old man, just because you want me to protect her."

  Jeid's face reddened and he grabbed the young man's shoulders. "You got it backward, boy. I'm sending her to protect you. Maev has slain dozens of demons. You've killed one." He snorted. "Maev will lead you west and back. Try not to slow her down, pup."

  Dorvin fumed and began to object, flailing his arms. He strutted a few steps toward Maev, chest thrust out like a rooster, and Maev growled and raised her fists, prepared to pummel some sense into the boy.

  If I must travel west with this pup, she thought, I will tame him now.

  Alina, however, rushed forward and placed herself between the two. The young druid slammed down her staff, and the crystal on its crest blasted out light.