Rosinanti: Rise of the Dragon Lord (Rosinanti Series Book 3)

by Kevin J. Kessler

  “This can’t be…” Aleksandra screamed. “No!” She fired off a storm of crimson lightning, her full power solidly behind it. Valentean erupted into the sky, riding the wind as he flew up over the oncoming storm and barreled down at the maestro of his darkest moments. The paragon of Terra wrapped his strong arms around the avatar of chaos and carried her up into the evening sky.

  Letting go with one hand, Valentean summoned a series of rocks to surround his fist. He smashed it into Aleksandra’s torso, sending her careening back into the fortress where she smacked hard into the ground. As she landed, Valentean was in her face with an explosion of her own flames that burst around her body and sent her falling back. Summoning water from the air, he froze it into a jagged shard and heaved it at his disoriented foe. The ice dagger stabbed into Aleksandra’s shoulder, exploding out the other side, stained with blood. She screamed and grasped at it, pulling the unwelcomed object from her flesh. She turned and tried to rush at Valentean, but he was prepared with a burst of wind that took her off her feet, sending Aleksandra tumbling and rolling across the landscape.

  Valentean rushed in, but she was up once more and swatted him down before he could attack. The blow was disorienting but not debilitating, and Valentean rose to block a series of punches thrown with the harshness of terror. They continued like that for some time, seemingly equal to one another in terms of power. They each took turns beating the other back, launching into a series of dazzling flurries that could not be followed by any being on the planet save for the two of them. Eventually, Valentean began to notice something promising.

  Aleksandra was powerful, but she was not a trained warrior. When one was hundreds of times faster or stronger than their opponent, skill was not truly required. But now, faced with one of equal power, Aleksandra’s strikes and counters were revealed as the sloppy, desperate measures they truly were. Sensing victory, Valentean ducked beneath a wild hooking punch, wrapped his arms around Aleksandra’s waist, and leapt with her into the evening sky. As they flew together, he once more called upon the rocks to surround his fist, punching the empress and sending her soaring upward. Valentean called upon the wind to shoot him up even faster, reaching her within seconds and heaving a fireball into her face, pushing her up farther. Valentean caught up once more with a burst of water that battered the empress skyward, followed by a strong gust of wind.

  As Valentean followed close behind, Aleksandra thrust two fingers in his direction, loosing a thick bolt of red lightning that slammed into the animus warrior and sent him careening into the ground back within the fortress. The spell burned and ached and pushed him into the dirt, but it was not the debilitating nightmare it had once been. Valentean managed to get his arms beneath the bolt and smacked it away, sending the spell smashing into one of the still intact walls of the throne chamber and exploding against it.

  As Valentean turned his attention back to Aleksandra, he gasped. There, hovering in the sky was what looked like the sun. It lit the entire kingdom and surrounding countryside. But morning had not come. This was a destructive ball of fire and chaos energy, which the empress held aloft above her head with both arms. It pulsated with power, and Valentean guessed it could easily crack the entire planet in two.

  “Aleksandra, don’t!” he screamed, the wind carrying his voice up to her. “You’ll kill us all!”

  “As it shall burn!” came her triumphant screech. She hurled the flaming projectile at the fortress, and Valentean began to panic. He should have finished her when he had the chance. He had reveled for too long in his newfound ability to best her. He should have known she had some kind of doomsday plan in place. He had to stop it. He had to stop her one final time.

  Calling upon the full power of the planet, Valentean felt the wind whip against his skin. He felt the heat of several bursts of flame as they formed and flew about his body. He felt the gentle spritz of moisture from four different streams of water that flew in the opposite direction of the flames. And then he felt the calm, stoic power of stone as shards of rock both large and small joined the orbit. With a scream of fury and drive, Valentean sent every bit of the planet’s elemental energy to meet the oncoming spell. The elements flew up in a single beam, meeting the ball of rage at the midway point between Aleksandra and Valentean.

  As his defensive burst smashed into the underside of Aleksandra’s final spell, Valentean could feel the empress’s will still set upon it, pushing it down. His feet sank into the stone as the overwhelming strength of the hex nearly buckled his knees. He was slowing it down, but the spell was still descending steadily. Even with the power of the planet itself at his disposal, he was still not strong enough to defeat Aleksandra.

  “Val!” a voice called out beside him. Turning, he saw Seraphina at his shoulder, her hair whipping wildly in the wake of exploding elements. Their eyes locked, a silent apology passing from him to her. She shook her head as if to tell him all was not lost. She reached out a delicate hand, her eyes never leaving his, love evident in her stare as she gripped him by the bicep. The instant they touched, Valentean felt a burst of power he had not sensed since their defeat of Aleksandra within the Northern Magic so many months ago. The same power that had failed them the night Kackritta fell was now theirs to command once more. Her strength coupled with his fortified the defensive elemental rush, and the death globe’s descent was stopped. They had entered into a stalemate; both Aleksandra’s spell and Valentean and Seraphina’s counteroffensive pressed upon one another with equal strength. Then, Valentean felt a second hand grip his other arm. One far larger and stronger. Turning his head, he was shocked to see Kayden hunched over in exhaustion. His eyes shone with purple light, and he glared at Valentean as though he would rather be anywhere else.

  The explosion of power Valentean felt was instantaneous, and their combined might slammed once more into Aleksandra’s spell, sending it rocketing up. Valentean could hear Aleksandra shriek in terror as the hex slammed into her. She attempted to stop it with her hands, but it pushed her farther up until it was naught more than a pinprick of light in the curtain of dark sky. There, the spell exploded, bathing the entire surrounding area in light.

  Kayden’s hand fell away from Valentean’s arm, and he collapsed to the ground. The sudden loss of energy was jarring, and both Valentean and Seraphina pitched back as well. The golden light upon Valentean’s eyes faded, and he coughed up a laugh as he watched the massive conflagration in the sky that was Aleksandra’s funeral pyre.

  “We did it,” he croaked out, his voice weak and pathetic.

  “We did,” Seraphina answered, laying her head upon his arm.

  “Just…stop talking until the planet stops turning upside down, you idiots,” Kayden groaned, rolling over onto his stomach.

  Valentean could hear movement approaching them and weakly turned his head to see his father, Maura, Nahzarro, and Nevick who carried an unconscious Deana, running to their sides.

  “She’s gone!” Nahzarro cried out, reveling in the finality of their victory.

  “She is,” Nevick replied, holding Deana close.

  Vahn knelt in front of his sons, looking Valentean in the eye with pride and love. “You did it. All three of you did it.”

  “We all had a part to play, Father,” Valentean said back.

  Maura stood off to the side, arms folded as she silently gazed up into the sky. Valentean assumed this to be a moment of silent reflection for her. She had lost so much, and he hoped that through this major victory, she might find her peace once more.

  “Kackritta can finally live again,” Seraphina said. “I know it’s no consolation to those who have died, but we can finally once more be at peace. I just regret that my sister had to die for it. I wonder if—”

  Seraphina’s words were cut off as Maura suddenly leapt into action, jumping on Kayden as he tried to rise, pulling one of her daggers free of its sheath, and burying it in his heart.

  Chapter XXXII: Return of The Rosintai

  “No!” both Va
lentean and Vahn yelled simultaneously. Vahn reached Maura first, striking her in the side of the head with his knee, sending her rolling away from the sight of her cold-blooded murder. Both father and son knelt beside their fallen family member.

  “Are you insane?” Nevick roared, placing Deana on the ground as he rushed forward to stop Maura from lunging at Kayden once more.

  “Calm down!” Nahzarro cried out, standing beside Nevick, trying to make eye contact with Maura in an attempt to curb her explosive rage.

  “That thing doesn’t get to live!” she screeched, fighting uselessly against Nevick’s girth. “He doesn’t get to be forgiven after everything he took from me! After everything he took from this world!”

  Valentean looked down into his brother’s darkening eyes. “Kay,” he whispered with urgency, gripping his twin by the hand. He felt Seraphina’s hand upon his shoulder and gently laid his cheek upon it as tears began to spill from his eyes. “Please, don’t go!”

  Kayden wore a look of silent horror, his eyes more shocked than anything. But Valentean could see the focus fading, could see the horror of his fate slowly settling in as his brother realized he was dying.

  Vahn’s hands were pressed around the sides of the blade, blood pooling up through his fingers as he attempted to apply direct pressure and slow the bleeding. But it appeared to be too late. Kayden was fading. “This can’t be real,” Vahn said. “Not when we were so close to having you back.”

  Kayden looked up at his father, the pleading, helpless eyes of a child once more shining through on his face. He moved his mouth to speak, but a cough choked him, bringing a sizable pool of blood to his lips. His eyes closed, and Kayden Burai’s head slumped back. He moved no more.

  Valentean heard Seraphina sob at his side and let Kayden’s limp fingers slide from his hand. He reached out, pulling Seraphina to him, holding her shuddering form as he himself wept bitterly into her hair.

  An anguished sob drew his attention as Vahn erupted to his feet, a look of terrifying rage etched across his face as he rounded on Maura.

  “No!” Valentean called out.

  Nahzarro attempted to raise his arms, possibly to cast some kind of spell to ward off Vahn’s advance, but the old man was too fast, too skilled. He ducked past the Grassani king’s outstretched arms and struck him with an elbow to the throat. Nahzarro went down hard, clutching at his windpipe. Nevick turned, but he was too slow and weakened. Vahn disabled him with a hobbling kick to the knee and a palm strike to the side of the head, which sent the big man sprawling.

  Maura drew a dagger to defend herself, and Valentean rose in an attempt to stop this from happening. Then, as Vahn knocked the blade from Maura’s hand with practiced ease, something fell in their midst from the night sky. Whatever the object was, it hit the ground with the severity of a meteorite, forming a small impact crater and kicking up a cloud of dust. As the obstructive haze cleared, a joint gasp fell over the entire party.

  Aleksandra lay in the tiny crater, unmoving, curled up, her limbs at odd angles. Blood leaked from her burned, nearly unrecognizable body. Her robes were tattered and scorched, the flesh beneath marked by deep gashes and blackened burns. Sections of her hair had burned away. She was nearly bald with wispy splotches still covering the majority of her scalp. Her face was mostly unharmed save for a few scrapes and burns and the deep gashes that had formed from her use of chaos.

  “Is she…dead?” Maura asked, completely forgetting Vahn’s attempted assault. As if an answer to her question, Aleksandra’s hand jumped, and from her index finger, there shot a thin crimson jolt that flew on a collision course with Maura’s heart.

  “Get down!” Vahn yelled, shoving away the woman he had just come so very close to killing. The world stopped moving; time stood still for Valentean as the fatal burst of magical energy slammed into Vahn’s chest, exploding out through his back.

  Seraphina screamed in horror, Maura cried out in shock, and Valentean’s throat closed until not even air could travel through it. Somehow he managed to move and caught the old man’s falling body as his legs buckled beneath him.

  “No…” He found his voice once more. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.” Valentean held the side of his father’s face, looking desperately into his eyes, his voice cracking as he begged the old man to stay as if he had any control over his fate. “Please… Please no… please, please, please no!” His voice was high-pitched, choked with emotional sobbing as his face twisted into a mask of desperate sadness. “Please… Please, Daddy…” Valentean nearly whispered, suddenly feeling like a four-year-old boy once more, terrified of death and horrified at the idea that something might one day happen to his beloved family.

  Vahn’s eyes focused in on Valentean’s one final time. In them, Valentean saw no regret, no sadness. There were only the warm, loving eyes of a father. Valentean held on to that stare, not blinking as the tears flowed in a steady stream down his face. Vahn had enough strength left in him to raise a shuddering hand and take the side of his son’s face in his palm one last time. He smiled at Valentean, the sides of his lips shaking at the effort. Then, the warmth in his eyes grew cold. The quaking of his lips ceased as the smile melted from his face. His mouth hung open and limp. Vahn’s hand fell from Valentean’s cheek, his fingertips grazing the wet-streaked face of his son one last time before it fell with finality into the dirt.

  There was stillness. Valentean’s shoulders shook followed by his hands as his quaking fingers grasped desperately at the old man’s cheeks. His mouth was a thin line, lips trembling. His face was a blank emotionless mask as the gravity and horror of this situation fell around him. The world disintegrated into a haze of white noise until something snapped him back.

  “Looks like I missed,” Aleksandra’s haggard voice spat as she slowly climbed to her feet. “Or did I?” She laughed through a cough, a short humorless bark of cruelty that reformed the world around Valentean. The shaking fingers that still brushed his father’s cooling skin slowly closed into a trembling fist. The emotionless mask of his face contorted in uncontrollable rage. He felt the power of The Rosintai welling up within him, the dragon begging to be released. And in that moment, Valentean Burai finally surrendered to it.

  His scream of rage and anguish shook the ground as the walls of Aleksandra’s throne chamber crumbled away.

  “Val, no!” Seraphina screamed, rushing toward him, but it was too late. The power erupted out of him, bringing white light to his eyes first, followed by an alabaster eruption of might that threw Seraphina and all of his allies back. Valentean hugged his lifeless father to his chest with one arm for the last time as the warmth of his power spread along his skin, hardening it to scales. A burst of white energy flew unfettered into the sky, a beacon in the night, heralding the return to Terra of its Spirit of Light. A calming serenity overtook part of his mind, and the world looked smaller all of a sudden, pliable, malleable. But in the back of Valentean Burai’s subconscious, he screamed for blood.

  Seraphina rolled as she landed, rising back to her knees in panic. The moment she had believed could never come had arrived. Valentean had lost control, and his power was erupting out of him. Seraphina stared in horror at the beacon of light that flew into the heavens and gasped as a series of white cracks began to form along the sky. The dimensional barriers were breaking down. Ignis was about to be freed unto the world.

  Looking into the epicenter of the explosion of power, Seraphina watched a new creature rise from the site where once had stood the love of her life. Valentean loomed well over two meters tall now. The red trench coat he had worn into battle had disintegrated, leaving him adorned in the remnants of a tattered black shirt and pants. The sleeves and one pant leg had been torn away, and the darkness of his garments sat in stark contrast to the glowing series of scales that pulsated with power.

  A pair of wings framed his body, stretching out as if testing themselves. As he stood, she saw his feet were wide and reptilian with three long toes, which ended in tal
ons. As he opened the fists of his muscled arms, Seraphina saw long, dark claws at the end of each finger. Valentean’s face was framed by shoulder-length hair of the purest white Seraphina had ever seen. His lips were pulled back into a snarl that showcased his glistening fangs. A pair of horns twisted out from his head, curling and elongating as the transformation completed itself, and a long scaled tail smacked into the ground. His eyes burned with an alabaster fury the likes of which Seraphina had never seen before. She had to shield her eyes from their light. It was like staring into the center of the sun.

  Aleksandra gasped. “What…? What is this nonsense?”

  Seraphina shook her head at the irony as the white cracks in the sky elongated. This was it. Her ultimate victory. But Aleksandra would never live to see it fulfilled. One look at Valentean’s face told that tale perfectly. Her sister was already dead.

  Aleksandra extended a hand, firing off another burst of red identical to the one that had killed Vahn. It struck Valentean in the face and shattered upon contact.

  “What?” Aleksandra cried out in shock.

  Valentean took a long, slow step toward her, wings spread. She stumbled back, her crimson eyes wide with terror. Valentean gave one hearty flap of his wings, and a gale-force wind slammed into Aleksandra, sending the sorceress flying back, smashing into the ground. Valentean leapt gracefully after her as she rose, a ball of flame in her palm as she attempted to slam it into The Rosintai’s chest. Valentean caught her arm by the wrist with such ease it was nearly comical. Then, he squeezed, and Seraphina could hear the sound of Aleksandra’s wrist being crushed to powder in his grip. She shrieked in agony as Seraphina gasped.

  Valentean then twisted the captured arm, snapping it grossly at the elbow joint as Aleksandra had once done to him. Somehow the sorceress remained standing, and Seraphina wanted to cry out, to get her love’s attention, to alert him to the very real danger spreading through the sky above them. But she remained silent, terrified.