Dragons Rising

by Daniel Arenson

  "I'm going to look after you, Domi." His voice was choked. "Like I promised."

  "Gemini, the . . . the children," she whispered, eyes damp. "I have to save them. Where are the children?"

  "Hush now, Domi. Don't try to speak."

  He carried her away from the sea and onto the hills. In the east spread a field of death, once the city of Hakan Teer. It was now a sprawling graveyard, a city of the fallen. Burnt scraps of tent flew in the wind. The charred skeletons of children raised little hands like twigs from the ash. The two great stallions, Eras and Elamar, still soared above the coast hundreds of feet tall, but the idols that had once guarded a great nation now stood vigil over the dead. Vultures flew above, dipping down to feast upon the charred flesh. And above the vultures . . .

  "Firedrakes," Gemini muttered. "Paladins on their backs. Worse than carrion crows."

  He turned away. The drakes had not seen him yet. He walked down a rocky slope, heading southeast, keeping the hilltops to his west to hide him from those he had once commanded. He would seize command of these firedrakes again someday, fly to war and conquest, slay his mother, and claim the Temple, but not yet. He was not ready for another battle, not with Domi hurt. For now she needed him, and his pets could wait.

  I will reclaim you, my firedrakes, but not today.

  He kept walking, heading away from the beach of ruin, from the city of the dead, from the paladins and their mounts, carrying Domi far from them all, far from all those who had hurt her. She slept in his arms.

  Once you bore me on your back, Domi, he thought. Today I carry you.

  Finally, a mile or two away from the devastation, he reached a landscape of quiet hills. Flat, shattered rocks formed natural paths and footholds like the skin of wrinkly, fossilized giants. Between them, pines grew from patches of earth, their bark rough, their branches twisting and their needles rustling. Mint bushes, anemones, and cyclamens grew between white boulders. Upon a hilltop ahead grew a coiling carob tree with a trunk like an old man's face, wrinkled and wise. When Gemini climbed the hill, he could see the distant sea. A little cave yawned open on the hillside, its entrance in the shade of the carob. It was little more than a crack, several feet deep, perhaps ten feet wide, no more than a burrow for one or two souls to lie down in shadow.

  Soil and leaves had blown into the cave, forming natural bedding. He gently placed Domi down inside. Her eyes fluttered open, she gazed at him, and she tried to whisper something, but her voice was too raw. Blood stained the makeshift bandage around her leg, seeping out.

  He brushed pine needles out of her hair. "Drink." He held his canteen open over her lips, letting its last few drops of water fall into her mouth. "It's all the water I have for now."

  He pulled the lemons from his pack, cracked one in two, and helped her eat. She wrinkled her nose.

  "Sour." She stuck out her tongue. "I want some cake instead."

  He laughed, eyes stinging, and couldn't stop the tears. "All the cakes in the world," he whispered, stroking her hair. "I promise them to you too. Oh, Domi. I'm so sorry." His voice shook. "I'm so sorry for everything. Look at us here. Look at what's become of us. I'm going to heal you. I'm going to burn every last enemy, topple mountains, shatter armies, all to protect you."

  She smiled wanly. "That won't be necessary. Maybe just . . . I saw some carobs. Maybe find me one to eat?"

  He nodded. "I'm going to leave you now for a moment. Just a moment, I promise! I'll be back soon and--"

  "Go!" She smiled weakly. "Go."

  He nodded, left the cave, and climbed onto the hilltop. He could still see the ocean in the distance, and when he turned west, he saw the patch of darkness of the burnt city, the distant firedrakes still flying above. Far in the south, he thought he could make out a cloud of many other firedrakes flying deeper into Terra, seeking more lands to conquer. Hurriedly, he approached the carob tree and reached to the lower branches, gathering as much fruit as he could hold at once. He brought them back to Domi, and they shared the meal. The fruit was tough, stringy, hard to chew, but sweet and good, and it filled Gemini with new energy, calming the tremor in his limbs.

  After their bellies were full, Domi slept again. The sun was setting, and Gemini crawled into the cave with her. It was a tight squeeze, but the shadows would hide them from any firedrakes that might fly above. He gazed at her soft cheek in the moonlight, and he wrapped his arms around her.

  "Do you remember how we slept like this, together, back in the Temple?" he whispered. "Let's pretend that we're back there. Let's pretend that all the world is comfort and safety again."

  She mumbled in her sleep but did not wake. He held her until the dawn.

  In the morning's soft light, he woke before her, and he watched her sleep. When he wiped the grime off her cheek, her skin seemed ashen to him. Her bandage was bright red with fresh blood. Iciness filled Gemini's belly.

  She won't survive on carobs alone, he thought. She needed medicine. She needed new bandages, ointments for the wound on her leg, maybe stitches. She needed a healer. And proper food. And more water.

  The first flickers of panic began to rise in Gemini, but he stifled them. Fear was his enemy now. He had to think calmly.

  He needed to find medical supplies. But where? The nearest city had been reduced to ash, and Gemini had no idea what other settlements existed in this barbarous continent of savages. If he had a firedrake, he could have explored from above, but even if he found some Horde settlement that still stood, he was likely to find nothing but a witch doctor.

  "I need a battlefield surgeon," he muttered. "Like the ones who always fly with the Temple to war. Like--"

  Of course.

  He stepped out of the cave and stood on the hill, staring west toward the ravaged town.

  "They'll have a surgeon," he whispered. "The Temple always brings a few to war. He'll have needles and thread, ointments, bandages. He can heal Domi's leg."

  He returned to the cave to find Domi awake. She lay on her back, gazing up at him weakly.

  "I think I'll sleep in," she whispered. "Unless you have those cakes out there."

  He knelt beside her and stroked her hair, pulling out more needles. "I'm going to leave for a while. Just a short while. To find supplies we need. I'll be back very soon, I promise. Will you wait for me here?"

  She glanced down at her bloody leg. "I'm not walking anywhere, that's for sure, and if I'm too weak to walk, I'm certainly too weak to turn into a dragon anytime soon."

  He gave her the last of his lemons and carobs, then left the cave and walked downhill. He had no plan. He had no weapons, no armor. But he had his surname, and he had his pride, and he had Domi to save. Those would carry him farther than any firedrake could.

  When he crested the next hilltop, he gazed west again toward the burnt city. Firedrakes still flew above, but Gemini saw no life on the ground. The only movement came from the charred scraps of banners that still billowed in the wind. That wind carried the stench of death even up to these hills. South of the camp, however, sunlight gleamed on metal, and little figures bustled back and forth. A group of Templers seemed to garrison there, right on the rim of the devastation--a camp to guard the coast, perhaps to treat those wounded in the battle.

  I'll find a healer there, Gemini thought. Or at least supplies.

  He kept walking along the hills. Every step made his wounds blaze--worst of all were the whip lashes across his back--but Gemini ignored the pain, focusing instead on the landscape. Mint bushes rustled around him, hives rose from the crumbly soil, and birds flittered between the pines. Shattered flint rocks lay strewn around his feet, their innards smooth and gleaming like stone mirrors. Cyclamens rustled in the shade of chalk boulders, their leaves veined, their blossoms lavender and pale. The sea whispered in the south, its water blue splotched with green.

  It's a beautiful place, Gemini thought. He looked back at the carob tree; it was now small in the distance. He missed Domi already. He didn't want to walk any farther away. H
e wanted to stay here with her, in this beautiful place, not head back into war, fire, death.

  "Maybe we should stay here forever," he whispered to the land. He gazed at a hillside where anemones grew in a red carpet. "Maybe we can forget about Requiem, forget about the Temple, and just live here, Gemini and Domi, in our own world, a world of flowers, the song of birds, the call of the sea."

  He sighed. Yet walk back into ruin he must--to find a healer, to find hope for Domi. And then he would keep walking through ruin, he knew, for despite the beauty of this place, this peace and gentleness, the call of power still overwhelmed all other voices. He could feel the beacon of the Cured Temple, drawing him even from across the sea, and he knew that he would not forget those crystal towers, not even in this place, not even in the embrace of the woman he loved. Forever the splendor of the Cured Temple shone in his dreams. An evil now lived within those halls--the evil of his mother, his sister, an evil he knew he must supplant. He walked on.

  He was a mile away from the killing field when the firedrakes saw him. Three of the beasts tossed back their heads and cried out, then beat their wings and wheeled in the sky toward him. Like vultures departing from carrion, they left the burnt city and came flying toward the hills. Paladins sat on their backs, armor brilliant in the sunlight, and their banners streamed.

  Gemini stood on the hill, waiting. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to remain calm. A memory of the dungeon shot back into him--the screams, the agony of torture, the stench . . . Fear flooded his belly, icy cold, and sweat trickled down his back, and he felt his pulse quicken.

  Calm yourself. Breathe. He inhaled deeply and raised his chin. You are Lord Gemini Deus. You will show them your nobility.

  The three drakes circled above, cawing, then spiraled down. They landed on the hill around Gemini, claws tearing up dirt and shattering rocks. Chunks of chalk spilled down the slopes, crushing cyclamens, and one firedrakes lashed its tail, shattering a pine. All three thrust forth their heads, fangs bared, their hot breath blasting Gemini. Their riders, bedecked in white steel, pointed their lances at him. Gemini was covered in grime, his hair caked with mud, and he wore only rags, but he forced himself to stand proudly, to raise his chin.

  "Lower your lances!" he said. "Paladins, dismount and kneel. I am Gemini Deus, your lord. Kneel!"

  The paladins glanced at one another, uncertain.

  "You are--" one began.

  "Silence!" Gemini shouted. "I did not tell you to talk back but to dismount and kneel before your lord." He stared at the talkative paladin's firedrake, a scarred yellow beast. "You ride upon Lore. That scar on his head is from battling the rebels in Salvandos." He turned toward the other two firedrakes. "These are Pelaron and Telesar, siblings from the same brood. Do not mistake me for some common wanderer. I lost my armor in the sea, and the grime and blood of battle covers me, as it would any true warrior." He stared pointedly at the men's gleaming, polished armor. "Yet I am still your lord. Now kneel!"

  The paladins stared at one another again, then dismounted their drakes, but they did not kneel. One among them--the tall man who had first spoken--took a careful step forward.

  "Yes, you are Gemini," he said. "I recognize your face. Last I heard you were tossed into the dungeon, a traitor to the Cured Temple."

  Fear flooded Gemini. Again he could feel the cold stones beneath him, feel the chains clasping him, feel the torturer ripping off his fingernail. He forced himself to stare steadily at the man.

  "Do not meddle in the affairs of those of higher station. The squabbles of the Deus family are none of your concern. Raise your visor! Let me see your face. Who are you that you should speak so impudently to your lord?"

  The man hesitated. Gemini stomped toward him and reached toward the paladin's visor. The man stepped back, seemed almost ready to attack Gemini, but hesitated just long enough. Gemini managed to grab the visor and yank it up.

  "Ah . . ." Gemini smiled thinly at the pale, hard face. "Sir Ker Albinor, is it not? Yes, I know your face. I know your family. Only two generations ago, your family was shoveling shite in the fields. You will kneel before your lord now, Albinor, or you will be shoveling shite again." He spun toward the other two paladins--a burly man and a tall woman. Both had raised their visors too. "I don't even recognize you two. Must be even lower than the Albinor family. Worms, you are. Worms I can easily crush."

  "My lord, you . . ." Sir Albinor swallowed. "You were a prisoner. Lady Mercy told us you fight against us, that--"

  "Mercy isn't here. My bitch sister flew back north, I imagine, leaving you lot in the south. She's dining on peacock and sipping wine from golden chalices. I'm here in the south, fighting in the mud, for the Cured Temple. For you. For our glory. I'm taking command of this garrison. Now kneel before me and swear your allegiance, or by the Spirit, you will know my vengeance."

  The paladins glanced at one another again. The female stepped closer to Albinor and whispered to him. Gemini caught the words "Mercy gone" and "not our battle."

  Gemini stepped closer toward them. "Kneel!" he shouted, his voice so loud it pealed across the hills. He was sure even Domi in her distant cave heard.

  The paladins fell silent, then knelt.

  Gemini approached Lore, the yellow firedrake, and climbed into the saddle. For a moment he just sat there, eyes narrowed to slits, and inhaled deeply. Spirit, it felt good to sit in the saddle again. He wore rags, and wounds and grime covered him, and he looked like what he was--a ragged prisoner washed up onto the coast with other ruined things. But here, sitting upon a firedrake, Gemini almost felt like himself again, the lord who had once ridden Pyre across the Commonwealth, the most powerful man in the world.

  I will be the most powerful man in the world again, he silently vowed.

  He wore no spurs, but he grabbed the reins and dug his heels into the drake's tenderspots. The beast tossed back its head, squealed, and kicked off the hill. Lore's amber wings beat madly, rustling the grass below and beating back the three paladins' cloaks.

  "Fly with me!" Gemini called down to them. "You two scum--rise! Albinor, you walk back."

  He laughed as he soared higher, the wind in his hair. His servants rose at his side, a new retinue for his power. He was a lord again, and he would exert his power to get what he wanted. All those who stood in his way would die--like the man on the beach had died.

  That miserable wretch tried to steal my lemons, so I slew him. And I will slay all my enemies, all those who stand in my way. I will get what I want, if the world has to burn, if I have to kill every last man, woman, and child. He licked his lips. I want Domi, and I want my Temple, and I will have both. Even if the whole world crumbles around us, and all other souls die, the Cured Temple will rise from ruin, and I will stand upon its peak with Domi, and I will reign.

  He curved his flight to pass over the devastation of the Horde's city. Several pits had been dug into the charred earth, and human remains smoked within. Many skeletons still littered the earth above these mass graves, bony hands reaching up in supplication. The burnt corpse of a griffin lay below, shreds of skin flapping in the wind, ribs exposed and black. Crows and vultures flew everywhere. These dead had once followed Gemini; the wrath of Mercy had burned them.

  "You will pay for this, Mercy," he whispered. "When I'm done with you, you and Mother will be nothing but two more burnt skeletons in a pit. And I'm going to piss onto your bones."

  The three firedrakes kept flying, leaving the ruins behind. A mile south, Gemini beheld a garrison of troops--perhaps several hundred strong. Five other firedrakes stood here, hunched over the remains of a dead griffin like vultures over carrion. Lowborn soldiers in chain mail moved back and forth across a dirt field, while archers stood in makeshift, wooden towers. White military tents rose in neat rows, topped with banners of tillvine blossoms. Gemini directed Lore to glide directly over the camp, flying so low the firedrake almost slammed into the wooden towers. The blast of the beast's wings ruffled the tents, nearly uprooting them
.

  "Hear me!" Gemini shouted. "Your new lord is here!" He laughed, the power coursing through him. "Kneel, warriors of the Spirit! Kneel before Lord Gemini Deus!"

  He dug his heels into Lore, and the firedrake blasted forth a great stream of fire. The inferno stormed across the sky and rained down sparks. Soldiers below rushed aside. A few men, cowed by the display, knelt in the dirt.

  Gemini landed in a dirt square between tents. The other two firedrakes landed behind him.

  "Who rules this cesspool?" Gemini shouted. "Come forth, commander of this garrison!"

  The door of the largest tent opened, and a burly lord emerged, wrapped in a samite gown and wearing a burnished breastplate large enough to drown a pig in. A bushy, red mustache curled across the brute's pink, pudgy face. He was busy tightening his belt and tugging up his pants, and Gemini glimpsed the tousled head of a Terran woman in his tent.

  "What is the meaning of this?" the man blustered. "Who are you, scoundrel, that you ride a firedrake and--"

  Gemini spoke calmly, stroking Lore. "Flame him."

  The yellow firedrake puffed out his chest and blasted forth his fire. The stream crashed against the mustached lord, knocking him down, consuming him. Soldiers cried out and fell back. The tent caught fire and collapsed, and the captive woman screamed within. Lore kept blasting forth his dragonfire as the lord rolled, begged, tried to flee but finally fell and rose no more. When the flames died, they revealed nothing but a charred corpse in blackened armor.

  Gemini nodded. "Good. Good!" He dismounted and faced the troops who gathered around. All were kneeling now. "You, go fetch me some armor, a sword, a shield." He turned toward another soldier. "You fetch me a pack full of battle rations, and you--yes, you, the scrawny one, go get the camp healer. Tell him to bring his supplies with him."

  When Gemini's firedrake cackled and tossed his head, the troops blanched and all but fled toward their tasks.