Requiem's Hope (Dawn of Dragons)
Page 21
The world was so silent, Laira didn't even have to raise her voice for them all to hear.
"I am Laira, Chieftain of Goldtusk, Daughter of Ka'altei. I am Laira, Widow of Oritan, Chieftain's Wife of Leatherwing. Today I stand before a united tribe, and you await my commands." Her throat felt too tight, her eyes too dry. "I came north as an Eteerian exile. I suffered for many years as a slave. I rose to lead your tribes, to become a huntress, a warrior, a chieftain. Flying with you has been an honor I will never forget." She took a deep breath, collected her magic, and rose into the air as a golden dragon. She spoke louder. "Yet today, as we celebrate our victory and mourn our loss, I must choose a home. I must choose one path for my heart. Today I am not Eteerian nor a chieftain." She looked at Jeid; he stood across the crowd in human form, looking at her with gentle eyes. She spoke softly, more to him than to anyone else. "Today I am a daughter of Requiem." She looked back at the tribesmen. "Choose a new leader amongst yourselves. Fly as one tribe, and I pray you find your own sky. Mine lies above the forests of Requiem and the marble column that rises in the starlight."
She rose higher in the sky, letting the wind flow across her, fill her nostrils with the scent of the free air, and billow her wings. The other dragons rose around her. Thirty remained alive, no more. Thirty souls to forge a kingdom. Thirty souls to birth a nation. Jeid flew at her side, the largest among them, the sun bright against his copper scales. Maev flew at Laira's other side, solemn and silent.
Behind Laira, every other dragon held a body in his or her claws.
Fur cloaks shrouded the dead, the fallen Vir Requis. In death they had regained human forms, their magic forever gone, their lights forever dimmed. Laira looked at them—survivors and fallen. She met Dorvin's gaze, and he stared back at her with wet, red-rimmed eyes. In his claws, the silver dragon held the body of his sister, of the druid Alina, and Laira felt lost, for the guiding light of Requiem had fallen dark.
They flew on the wind.
They left the mountain and tribes behind. They sailed over swaying plains, rolling hills, silver rivers, and misty forests of birches and maples. They flew through day and night until they saw it ahead—King's Column rising from the forest. The heart of Requiem.
They landed on a hill, the column rising in the horizon, a golden pillar in the sunset. And here they dug more graves. And here they mourned a loss too great to bear. By the graves of Requiem, a young dragon slain too soon, and Eranor, the first priest of starlight, they buried their new dead. And now her tears did flow. Now Laira wept, kneeling before the graves, her hands upon the soil.
"I don't know how I can go on without her," Dorvin said, voice choked. The young man's cheeks were pale, his eyes haunted, his cheeks covered in stubble. "She was the light of Requiem, a beacon sent from the stars to guide us home. To guide me." He lowered his head. "Goodbye, Alina, my sister. I love you."
Her golden hair still stained with the blood of their battle, Maev approached Dorvin. The tall, gruff woman, perhaps the greatest warrior in Requiem, embraced the young man, and her eyes dampened. She kissed Dorvin's cheek and whispered comforts into his ear, and the two stood upon the grassy hill, the wind in their hair, holding each other close.
As Laira stood here, she felt more than loss for their dead. Many lights had gone out; two were missing.
"Where are you, Issari, my sister?" Laira whispered. She had already lost a brother; to lose her sister too would a pain she could not bear. "Where are you, Tanin, Prince of Requiem?"
The two had gone south to claim a distant throne. They had never returned. Laira looked south as if they would appear upon the horizon as she waited, a white dragon and a red one, a sister and a prince, the two she needed with her here. It was a dream, perhaps a fool's dream, and deep inside her Laira feared that they had fallen too, that their bodies would remain across the sea, leaving her always doubting, always empty, a shell of who she could have been.
Return to me. Please.
As she gazed at the horizon, she thought she saw a dragon there, a vision, a wish woven into a daydream of her sister coming home. Laira's breath caught in her throat. She narrowed her eyes.
She turned to Jeid who stood beside her. "Jeid, do you see it?" Her eyes dampened. "A dragon from the south."
He nodded. Laira shifted and took flight. She flew toward the distant figure, hope kindling inside her. Issari! Issari returned! She—
No.
Laira felt her heart freeze and shatter within her. The dragon flying toward her wasn't white like Issari. His scales were a pale blue, the color of robin eggs, and one of his legs was too small, barely larger than a human leg. The young dragon—he was even smaller than Laira—panted in the air, smoke puffing out from his nostrils in short spurts. He seemed close to exhaustion, and his scaly skin hung loosely over his bones.
"Requiem!" he cried out. "I seek Requiem. I—"
His eyes rolled back and he dipped in the sky. His magic left him, and he became a human boy clad in rags. He tumbled toward the ground. Laira raced forward and caught him in her claws.
She descended, shifted back into human form, and held the child in her arms. He gasped for breath. Jeid landed beside them, claws digging ruts into the hill, and also returned to human form. Others joined them, surrounding the child. The boy lay in Laira's arms, his skinned tanned brown, his eyes black, his frame almost skeletal. His left arm and hand were small as a babe's, hanging loosely from his torso.
"Have I . . . have I found Requiem?" He licked his dry lips, drank from a gourd Jeid held above him, and coughed. "I flew from Eteer. I seek the land of dragons. The land of my people."
Laira stroked the boy's hair. "You found Requiem, my child. You found your home."
Tears filled his eyes. "She told me it would be here. The Lady in White. The Daughter of Taal with the Silver Palm."
Laira's breath caught in her throat. "A Silver Palm? Do you mean an amulet embedded into her hand?"
The child nodded. "A holy woman. A seraph from the sky. Issari." Tears streamed down his face, drawing lines through grime. "With her was a great Prince of Dragons. They entered the desert, and they will bring light to the world. They will deliver us from darkness. They will heal the sky."
His eyes closed and he fell into slumber, and Laira held him close, and a hint of hope, a flutter of light like a firefly on a moonlit night, filled her breast. So many had died around her. So many nightmares filled her mind. But her sister was alive and Laira laughed, her tears of relief falling onto the child she held.
JEID
Beneath the marble column, the birches rustling around them, King Aeternum wed his bride.
They had no druid to join their hands. Eranor had fallen; so had Alina. But night had fallen and the stars shone above, reflecting in the marble of King's Column, and holiness filled this place, and Jeid knew this marriage was as real as the starlight, the marble, and the heat of dragonfire.
He had no fine cloak, no bright armor, no garments for a king. As always, he wore his shaggy old furs. As always his hair was too wild, his beard too long, his weapons too coarse. He did not feel like a king today, only like Jeid Blacksmith, an outcast from a village, a broken man hiding in a canyon. He looked at the people who gathered before him in the night, holding clay lanterns, the few survivors of Requiem. They all stared at him, the light painting their faces, and in their eyes was love for him, devotion to their king.
I took the name King Aeternum, he thought. A noble name. The name of a great leader to be remembered for eternity. But I still feel like Jeid. I still feel lost.
The pain swelled inside him, the pain of all those who had fallen. His wife, slain by the cruel Zerra. His father, Eranor, who had fallen defending the escarpment. His daughter, little Requiem, whose name now lived on in their kingdom. So many others, the people he was supposed to lead, the people he had brought here, the people he was so scared for.
Doubt might fill me, he thought, and too much fear for any man to bear, but for them I will
be King Aeternum. For them I will be the leader they need.
The crowd parted, whispering and bowing their heads, and from the darkness she emerged—his bride.
When Laira had first come to him, she had been only half alive—starving, wounded, feverish, a fragile thing barely clinging to life after years of abuse. He had watched her grow into a warrior, then a chieftain, and now before him he saw a new Laira. He saw the woman he would forever fly with, the light he would join to his. She walked toward him, smiling softly, staring at her feet. She wore a fur cloak and a necklace of beads, attire as humble as his, but she was beautiful to Jeid. A garland of flowers crowned her head of raven hair; that hair, once sheared short, now grew down to her chin. When she reached him, she looked up at him, her eyes huge and green and lit with starlight. Her lips—slanted from an old injury—parted, and she whispered to him, her voice so low only he could hear.
"I have loved you since I first saw you, Jeid. I will love you forever. Always will we fly together."
He kissed those lips, and the people raised their lanterns around them, and the lights glowed like the stars.
The dragons of Requiem worked through the summer, flying to the mountains in the north, cutting out stones, carving, building. Around King's Column they laid down more tiles, and more columns rose, sisters to the first pillar of their kingdom. Porticoes rose among the birches, soaring hundreds of feet tall, forming the skeleton of what would become a palace, the heart of a nation.
As the palace grew from the forest, so did their number.
The first new dragons arrived on a clear summer night with no moon, a husband and wife from the eastern plains. Three days later, on a warm evening, seven dragons flew in from the distant, snowy north where no plants grew and ice formed the walls of homes. By the summer solstice, a hundred dragons flew above the halls of Requiem, a hundred souls no longer lost, blessed by their stars, joined together.
The palace was not yet complete; only half its columns stood, and no roof topped them. The winds blew into the hall, and birch leaves scuttled across the marble tiles. It would still be many moons, perhaps many years, before the halls of Requiem shone in all their glory. That did not stop one Vir Requis, a young hunter with dark eyes, from spending that summer carving and polishing, working an oak into a throne of wood, its branches and roots coiling to form its shape. On that summer solstice when Requiem welcomed its one hundredth dragon, Dorvin took his creation into the hall of his king, and he placed the throne upon the tiles between the columns.
"The Oak Throne of Requiem," the young man said to his king. He bowed. "Every king needs a throne."
Jeid looked at the young man and smiled. Dorvin had first come to him bursting with rage, ready to fight the world. Today Jeid saw a solemn warrior of Requiem, wise and strong. He placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Your sister gave you the name Eleison, an ancient word for mercy. I will sit on this throne you carved me, but you will always stand at my right-hand side, a noble son of Requiem, first among her warriors."
Dorvin raised his head, and his eyes shone with tears. "I will forever fly at your side, my king."
In the light of summer, the forests green and the sky clear, King Aeternum sat on his throne and gazed upon his kingdom—the columns that rose around him, the rustling birch trees, and the mountains that grew beyond. His family stood at his side. Laira, his wife, the light of his heart. Maev, his daughter, the beacon of his soul. Dorvin, a young warrior who had become like a son to him. They stood with him in his hall, and some of his pain, some of his loneliness, eased to see them with him. He was not alone. When he raised his eyes to the sky, he saw the others there, a hundred dragons beneath the sun.
Yet two lights were missing, two holes inside him.
I pray for you, Tanin and Issari, Jeid thought. Return to us.
He rose from his throne, shifted into a dragon, and took flight. The others flew at his side—a bride, a daughter, a brother in arms. They flew higher, circling around the sun, and gazed down upon their kingdom. Laira sang softly as she flew, her golden scales bright in the dawn.
"As the leaves fall upon our marble tiles, as the breeze rustles the birches beyond our columns, as the sun gilds the mountains above our halls—know, young child of the woods, you are home, you are home." Laira's voice rose and the others sang with her. "Requiem! May our wings forever find your sky."
The story will continue in . . .
REQUIEM'S PRAYER
Dawn of Dragons, Book Three
COMING SOON
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AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading Requiem's Hope. I hope you enjoyed the book.
The third Dawn of Dragons novel, Requiem's Prayer, will be released soon. While you wait, you might want to read my other Requiem novels; I've written nine more, all currently available. You can learn more about them on my website: DanielArenson.com/Requiem
Want to know when Requiem's Prayer is released? Here are some ways to stay updated:
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And if you have a moment, please review a Requiem novel or two online. Help other fantasy readers and tell them why you enjoyed reading. And please help spread the word! Lend a Requiem novel to a friend, talk about Requiem online, and help others discover the books.
Thank you again, dear reader, and I hope we meet again between the pages of another book.
Daniel
NOVELS BY DANIEL ARENSON
Standalones:
Firefly Island (2007)
The Gods of Dream (2010)
Flaming Dove (2010)
Misfit Heroes:
Eye of the Wizard (2011)
Wand of the Witch (2012)
Song of Dragons:
Blood of Requiem (2011)
Tears of Requiem (2011)
Light of Requiem (2011)
The Complete Trilogy (2011)
Dragonlore:
A Dawn of Dragonfire (2012)
A Day of Dragon Blood (2012)
A Night of Dragon Wings (2013)
The Complete Trilogy (2013)
The Dragon War:
A Legacy of Light (2013)
A Birthright of Blood (2013)
A Memory of Fire (2013)
The Complete Trilogy (2013)
Dawn of Dragons:
Requiem's Song (2014)
Requiem's Hope (forthcoming)
Requiem's Prayer (forthcoming)
The Moth Saga:
Moth (2013)
Empires of Moth (2013)
Secrets of Moth (2014)
Daughter of Moth (2014)
Shadows of Moth (forthcoming)
Legacy of Moth (forthcoming)
KEEP IN TOUCH
www.DanielArenson.com
Daniel@DanielArenson.com
Facebook.com/DanielArenson
Twitter.com/DanielArenson