Moroda (World of Linaria)

by L. L. McNeil

  ‘I know you don’t want to wallow. If you did, you’d have stayed in Taban Yul. For someone who’s not a fighter, you have some strength.’ Morgen said.

  They grew quiet, listening to the low hum of Khanna’s engines as they drifted further away from Taban Yul, and snow began to fall.

  ‘Amarah, land by that village.’ Sapora instructed, once the great mountain range loomed above, their tops veiled by thick clouds.

  ‘Feoras Sol,’ Palom said. ‘My hometown.’

  ‘Alright. Hurry up about it. Snow’s falling and I don’t wanna be caught grounded by any damned Arillians.’ Amarah said, bringing Khanna down a short way from the village. ‘Topeko, you best be right about finding an old dragon to help against Aciel.

  We’re going to be in a whole heap of shit if not.’ She folded in her sails but kept her engines running as Khanna touched the snowy ground.

  ‘We part here.’ Sapora said, crossing the deck. ‘When next we meet, I shall be a king.’

  Moroda glanced up. She had been so wrapped up in the loss of Eryn and Anahrik, she had forgotten Sapora would be leaving their party. ‘Sapora...’

  ‘I would suggest non-Varkain avoid Sereth.’ Sapora warned. ‘Topeko, I await your visit.’ He nodded to the Samolen then clambered down the stairs without as much as a goodbye to the others.

  ‘All the gold in Linaria wouldn’t be enough to get me into that hell hole!’ Amarah said, cackling. She leaned on the steering wheel as Sapora departed. ‘I say good riddance to that damned snake, especially after everything that happened in the palace!’

  ‘You were there?’ Moroda asked.

  ‘Yup. Upstairs though.’ She cackled again, and Moroda doubted she was upstairs sleeping. ‘No commotion outside that ballroom, but saw a load of servants carrying bodies away. Sapora and his sister seem to be changing things. That raven is terrified of him.’

  ‘Is this the unfortunate accident which befell Elafion?’ Topeko asked.

  ‘The same. What are you going to Sereth for, anyway? Dirty bloody hole in the ground.’

  ‘A few answers. I wish to pay my respect to the changing of kings, too.’

  ‘Palom… How did you know where to find us?’ Moroda asked, suddenly wondering about his arrival the night before.

  The Ittallan stood by the edge of the deck, frowning at the village. ‘We had gone back to palace. One of the Royal Guard told us you from Corhaven had left earlier in night. We tracked you.’

  Moroda felt him pause.

  ‘I want to find the dragon and end this nightmare.’

  ‘Avenge Anahrik?’

  ‘Eryn, too. I want to track down Kohl.’

  ‘I understand how you feel, but please don’t let it cloud your judgement,’ Topeko said, resting a hand on Palom’s shoulder.

  ‘We’re all in this together, we’re all on the same side,’ Morgen added.

  Palom smiled bitterly. ‘Yes. We will act with clear heads.’

  Once Sapora was safely off Khanna, Amarah increased power to her engines and got them airborne again. Moroda could see nothing on the surface which showed Amarah had been affected by anything, but she could see emotions taking their toll on Palom, and she vowed to be of more use in any fighting to come. Given Topeko’s presence, surely there would be no better opportunity to hone what little skill she had picked up from her time in Berel.

  ‘You are more worried now, Moroda?’ Topeko asked, as Khanna began to climb steadily.

  ‘We were completely unprepared to fight. I was completely unprepared. I couldn’t do anything.’

  ‘You are not a fighter, Moroda. You’ve been thrown into a situation where coming out alive is a huge success. I can’t imagine how frightening it must have been for you.’

  ‘I do not want it to happen again.’

  ‘The way things are going, it will happen again. When it does, the stakes will be higher than just your life. It’ll be the lives of everyone in Taban Yul. Perhaps the lives of everyone in Linaria.’ He hunched his shoulders, the gems on his cheeks dull.

  ‘I don’t want to fight. I just want everyone to be safe. I’ve lost my father, my sister, and now my home. I don’t want it to carry on. I just want peace.’

  ‘Aciel has lost all that and more, too. Look how he reacted.’

  ‘It’s so wrong.’

  ‘Is it? His kind have been persecuted for centuries. He has lost friends and family. Everything of importance has been taken away from him and all the Arillians he knows. He has nothing more to lose. He wants to destroy those who hurt his people.’

  ‘But for what reason? To be left with those who adore him? I don’t see that as fulfilling.’

  ‘Maybe not. But there are thousands who would.’

  ‘Look at Palom,’ Morgen said. ‘He wants to kill Kohl for what he did. It’s no different. Live and let live is a kind notion, but it’s not always possible.’

  Topeko gave Morgen a long look. ‘The Samolen have practiced peace since the beginning. We dedicate our lives to study, to love, to kindness and compassion. We are all the stronger for it. The blood lust that seems to lie within every Linarian cannot always be suppressed, it seems.’

  ‘Defending yourself isn’t blood lust. Revenge isn’t blood lust. It’s righting a wrong!’

  ‘How is killing another “right”?’

  Moroda could see Morgen rolling his tongue and wondered whether he was annoyed.

  ‘It just is. People who do bad things should pay for it.’ ‘But who says it’s bad? Aciel would say the war was bad, that we should all be punished for it.’

  ‘I don’t know! I just do what I’m told.’ He threw his hands up, exasperated.

  Moroda looked up at Topeko and said, ‘That’s what most of Aciel’s army is doing, too. But not of their own choice. Let’s not bicker, please, not when we’re all hurting so much.’

  ‘There’s darkness in everyone. Good and bad is never set in stone, nor is it clear cut,’ Topeko said.

  Morgen walked away at his words, and Moroda reflected on them. The snow thickened around them as the ship approached the mountains. She wondered whether the dragon would see them as a threat, or food, and incinerate what was left of their party. Kohl, the only dragon hunter among them, was no longer there. Then again, she supposed not having a dragon slayer in the presence of a dragon you didn’t want to hurt would not be considered a bad thing.

  She thought of her remaining companions; Amarah, as she carefully navigated the terrain in the poor weather, stubborn, confident, and proud as always, and fearless to boot; Palom, sombre and silent in his grief, waves of anger pulsing from him; Morgen, a trained soldier, but with more emotion than any of them, it seemed; and Topeko, a worldly scholar with an aversion to fighting and destruction, who was perhaps the only one who would keep the group alive in their next encounter.

  Then, of course, there was the final member of the party. A former Goldstone of Niversai, able to clean and cook and dance, with a thirst for knowledge, but lacking in wit, confidence and decisiveness, a hunger for peace, but now alone in the world. What would it matter if they were killed by the dragon, she wondered.

  Would Linaria even mourn their passing?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Falling snow masked the way ahead, and the wind picked up at their altitude, buffeting Khanna with strong surges. ‘The storm is getting too much!’ Amarah said, holding her engine throttles as steady as she could. ‘I’m going to have to land soon or risk damaging Khanna! Not to mention I can’t see a damned thing ahead!’

  ‘Land there.’ Palom pointed ahead.

  Moroda held onto the side tightly and looked down at a large cliff overhanging a flat plateau. She supposed it would provide a little cover for the ship while it was grounded. When she was not crying, she was overwhelmed with emptiness, and held onto her ring for comfort. Topeko had taken the ereven sphere from her and used it to navigate the small group closer to where the dragon was located. She was grateful to have one less responsibility, for
she didn’t feel able to even dress herself at present, and held on tightly as Amarah navigated Khanna into the little hollow.

  ‘This feels like an Arillian storm.’ Topeko said as they dismounted.

  ‘Oh, please, no, don’t let it be…’ Moroda whispered.

  ‘This is too far out for an Arillian.’ Palom said, growling. ‘If there is one, I will tear him apart.’ With one deep breath, the Ittallan trembled again, and Moroda stood back as he transformed into his true form.

  ‘We should follow Palom.’ Amarah said, the last to dismount. She gripped her scythe tightly and looked back at her ship. ‘He can pick out a path up the mountain. Weapons ready. Eyes up. Any sudden movement could be an attack.’

  Moroda shivered despite her cloak as they followed the tiger up the trail. She had pulled her hood up, the fur warming her face, but there was a cold, deep fear in the pit of her stomach that her cloak was unable to warm. She felt now, more than ever, she was being swept along in events, with no say in what was to happen.

  Deep down, her fear kept her from truly wanting any further part in their ‘grand’ adventure. She wanted to go home, even though she had no home to go to.

  When she and Eryn had first left Niversai, all that time ago, she had thought it a great idea to leave the city and see what the world had to offer. Times were changing and she was able to glimpse into the world outside Niversai, into something that was bigger than herself. She had wanted desperately to know more, to learn of Linaria and the people in it, to learn of the dragons and magic, and everything it had to offer.

  Eryn had been against the idea from the start, but gone along with it anyway, trusting in her sister to see them through safely. Eryn was five years her junior and often gave in to what Moroda wanted, but Moroda had never thought it’d go this far. Now Eryn was gone, Moroda blamed herself more than the Arillian who killed her. Her idea had been to tag along for a bit, to see Berel and the university, and then make their way back to Niversai. But Moroda had continued on to do what she’d wanted, with no clear plan on how they were going to get back in one piece. She’d learned the dragons were more than the stunning creatures she used to watch lazily circling high above Niversai. They were beasts of unrivalled strength and power, and Aciel, that awful creature, had harnessed so much of it for himself. Now she was caught in the middle of his war, and more than that, trying to influence it.

  Moroda kept her eyes on her feet, focussing on each step. The ground underfoot was frozen solid and covered in a thick layer of snow, and she did not want to stumble or trip. She thought Palom was forging his own path, suitable for huge paws, and she worried he planned to leave them all in the snow while he hunted down any Arillians on the mountain.

  Moroda glanced up occasionally, ensuring she followed Morgen’s steps, and Topeko did not fall behind. But the Samolen kept up easily enough, and the four of them managed to follow Palom through the blizzard.

  ‘You doing alright, Ro?’ Morgen asked, looking over his shoulder.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘Do you want to take a break? We can rest for a minute if you need—‘

  ‘I’m fine, Morgen. Really. It’s easier to keep moving.’

  ‘Alright, just wanted to make sure…’ He stopped where he was, the steep path widening a little, and waited for Moroda to pass by. ‘Hopefully not long to go now. Dragons above, this is a hard walk!’

  Moroda smiled at him as she trudged past, grateful he was trying to lighten the mood, but unable to humour him with laughter.

  The snow fell thick and heavy, and the strong wind threatened to push them over at any moment. Her feet grew colder with each step until they were numb.

  ‘Don’t suppose you can warm us up with your magic, Topeko?’ Morgen asked as the Samolen passed him, his red robes vivid on the white mountain.

  ‘I am not so skilled in the art of healing and conjuring, I am afraid, Morgen.’ Topeko said. ‘If there is any warmth to be had when we rest, I can enhance it.’

  ‘Any shelter would be great.’ Morgen limped after Topeko, now bringing up the rear. His sword hung heavy at his hip, slowing his progress up the trail. The wounds he’d sustained in the battle against Jato’s Arillians had yet to heal properly, and a deep gash to his left leg made walking especially hard. He could still remember the searing heat of their electrical attacks; it was no wonder they didn’t use steel when they could strike you down with lightning. He hobbled along, keeping Topeko’s bright robes in sight at all times. Jato had no right to do what she did. But neither did Kohl. ‘Damned traitor.’ He muttered aloud. ‘He’ll pay. He’ll pay. He’ll pay…’

  ‘There’s a break in the storm.’ Amarah called back from where she led. Moroda stopped where she was. Indeed the sky pirate was right—the wind died down enough for their visibility to clear. Moroda couldn’t have been more grateful— the cold was sapping her strength and she thought she’d freeze if they were out in the elements any longer.

  Moroda saw Palom charge forward towards a cave opening half-hidden on the side of the mountain, and she hurried after him as quickly as they could.

  There was an unexpected wall of intense heat as they entered the cave, and Moroda blinked back the tears which suddenly formed in her eyes. Throwing her hood down, she rubbed one eye while waiting for the other to adjust to the darkness of the cave—a harsh contrast from the bright white of outside.

  The tiger’s roar was sudden, reverberating in the confined space, and Moroda covered her ears, dropping to one knee. She squinted in the darkness and gasped as she saw a battered and bloodied Arillian slumped against the cave wall, his feathers in disarray. The hat he wore was unmistakable. ‘Kohl?’

  Palom lunged towards him, claws extended and fangs bared, little more than a flash of orange in the darkness. Before he could pounce, he was knocked off his feet by something huge and dark, nigh invisible in the cave.

  Amarah raised her scythe to attack. ‘Keep back!’

  ‘No. You will keep back. I will fight to my last breath.’ The voice echoed around them, low and grating.

  Palom scrambled to his feet and snarled, fur bristling as he readied to lunge again.

  ‘Palom, look! It’s the dragon!’ Moroda gasped, still on her knee. Her eyes adjusted and she could see the silhouette of a dragon huddled in the darkness. She could not see the roof of the cave and could not see exactly how large the creature was, but it dwarfed the one that had attacked Niversai.

  Topeko lowered his hood at the realisation and also dropped to his knees, his cheek jewels twinkling in the darkness.

  ‘Archon, I am honoured and humbled to be in your presence.’ He lowered his head in bow, exposing the back of his neck as his nose touched the ground.

  Morgen sank to his knees and Amarah lowered her scythe slightly, both pairs of eyes trained on the dragon while Palom transformed back.

  ‘Dragon! Why are you protecting the traitor?’ Palom bellowed. ‘I swore to kill him!’ His rage was palpable, but Moroda could see he was torn between attacking Kohl and his wariness of the dragon they faced.

  The dragon moved in the darkness, and Moroda felt the shifting strength and heat, more than seeing its dark grey body move in the shadows. ‘Ittallan, you do not harm this one.’

  ‘I’ve been… trying to heal her… to help her.’ Kohl whispered from the other side of the cave. ‘Trying to keep her safe… with the blizzard outside.’ He staggered to the dragon’s side, his wounds still fresh and bleeding. ‘I made it to the cave… after Jato’s elite fighter attacked me... She defended herself and inflicted these wounds. When I was… no longer a threat, I spoke with her… Promised to help her. Promised to heal her… But she is… she is the one… Aciel found… the source of his power.’

  ‘That cannot be, she would be dead.’ Topeko said, getting to his feet. ‘If her stone is gone—’

  ‘My power was stolen from me!’ The dragon hissed, steam bellowing from her nostrils and heating the air. ‘I was tricked by an Arillian’s eyes…’<
br />
  ‘But… how can you be alive?’ Topeko asked, daring to step closer to her for a better look.

  ‘I was stronger than he thought. I am… very weak. I have prolonged my death for countless days.’ She breathed, a hissing growl filling the air at the motion. ‘Hibernation has helped, but I cannot heal from this wound. It kills me slowly. But I do not wish to die.’

  Moroda felt the cave walls and floor rumble, and she was very aware of the enormous strength the dragon possessed. She clutched her ring and found it burning hot. For all Topeko’s wisdom and books, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.

  ‘The thought of a dragon surviving without its stone is simply unheard of!’ Topeko said, a hand to his mouth. ‘Aciel took your stone and left you to die, and yet you still live?’

  ‘Yes.’ She moved closer so they could see the deep wound on her chest. It was black with dried blood. ‘My residual power would move to the despicable Arillian when I die. I do not wish to give him this joy…’

  ‘This is astonishing. Kohl, I commend you for your bravery.’

  ‘Commend him? For killing Anahrik and Eryn?’ Palom said, stepping towards the Samolen. ‘Kohl! You left them! You left them!’

  Kohl shuddered, leaning against the dragon as the strength went in his legs. ‘I do not deserve to live.’

  ‘Then I shall kill you!’

  ‘Do not touch this one.’ The dragon snarled, heat rising from her nostrils.

  ‘I have done such terrible things…’ Kohl wept. ‘I should have… stayed and fought with you. But I could not fight. I could not…’

  ‘Because you fight for Aciel!’ Palom snarled.

  ‘No! No! I’d never fight for him.’ Kohl shook his head, his wings fluttering from underneath his long cloak, loose feathers falling onto the cave floor. ‘I am in exile… because of him.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ Palom straightened up. ‘If you do not fight for Aciel there is no reason for you to leave Anahrik and Eryn to die!’

  Moroda could do nothing to diffuse the tension. Palom demanded the same answers she desperately needed, and she waited as Kohl gathered the strength to speak.