Moroda (World of Linaria)

by L. L. McNeil

  ‘I do not… I did not…’ Kohl stammered, heaving as blood continued to trickle from the gashes on his arms. ‘Killing one’s own kin… is a shameful… abhorrent act. We Arillians are so few… But Aciel has permitted such deplorable behaviour. Those who disagreed, he has controlled… so they agree with him. But it is against our laws, against… our beliefs.’

  The dragon’s ragged breathing filled the cave between Kohl’s words, and Moroda listened carefully.

  ‘His compulsion has… changed our kind. For better or worse. Most are under his control. I am immune to his sorcery… But some… like Jato… believe in him and his words. Truly. I had hoped… I had prayed… that she was under his compulsion, too. But… But… I know now that she loves him…’

  ‘Kohl…?’ Moroda asked, holding her ring tightly.

  ‘For all… the terrible things… she has done. I cannot harm her. I cannot defend myself against her. She… she is my daughter. If she had been… under his spell, perhaps I could have… I could have done something. Found some way… to break his compulsion. To free her. But she is… she is…’ He sobbed, unable to speak any more.

  Moroda saw a broken soul who had realised the extent of his loss and failures. If she had been told to attack Eryn, she too, would have fled. It was not something she could imagine facing. She remembered Kohl had scoured through the tomes of books on compulsion at Topeko’s home, remembered his insistence they flee Jato’s warship and avoid coming into contact with her. Her heart pounded as she understood his unwillingness to speak of his past, and of his unwillingness to fight. Had Jato spoken for him? Asked Aciel to exile him instead of execute him? Kohl was immune to Aciel’s compulsion, he couldn’t be forced to bow to him. Were the scars on his face from Aciel, too? Or his generals? She felt tears welling at the realisation. ‘Please, Palom… Forgive Kohl… What would you do if you were told to kill Anahrik?’

  Palom growled, but said nothing.

  ‘I escaped the battle… barely.’ Kohl continued. ‘I sheltered here and found this dragon. I… I used my strength to create the blizzard… So Aciel and the others wouldn’t find her… I do not think he… realises she still lives. If you found her, you could help her… It matters not what… happens to me. You can… take back… Aciel’s stolen power.’

  ‘I do not forgive you for what you have done.’ Palom said, turning away from Kohl. ‘You do not turn on your friends. No matter the enemy. You are a coward. A traitor.’

  ‘Palom.’ Moroda whispered again.

  ‘Leave him.’ Morgen said. ‘We need to carry on with our task. We need the dragon’s help, don’t we?’

  Amarah swung her scythe, allowing the blade to clatter loudly on the cold stone floor. ‘Enough babble. This dragon is alive, yet Aciel has her power. What do we do about that? If we could somehow return the dragon’s power, would that not weaken Aciel?’

  Moroda kept her gaze on Palom for a moment longer, but his silence told her he was no longer going to act on his impulse. She was shocked over Kohl’s confession, but knew they did not have time to dwell on his words. Their priority was Aciel.

  She cautiously approached the dragon, gazing upon her scales and the deep wound she bore. ‘Aciel has her stone.

  Remember his cane, Amarah? The jewel on top? That must be this dragon’s stone, where her power is held…’ She thought aloud. ‘What if…? No, I don’t think it…’

  ‘What are you thinking, child?’ Topeko asked, gently resting a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘Her power is energy, isn’t it…? That’s what you said? What if… what if we just moved her energy back? The way you do with candles and flames?’

  Topeko thought for a moment, before exhaling through his nose. ‘Goodness. That is a fair distance to move energy, Moroda. I… I don’t know if it could be done.’

  ‘But it is the same thing as the candle, isn’t it? Just moving energy? From Aciel’s stone back to this dragon here?’

  The Samolen nodded, though his brow was furrowed. ‘Well, yes… it sounds no different. But we would need something to move the energy to—I’ve never moved energy to a living thing before, much less a dragon. I do not know how to do this.’

  ‘But we do have something to move the energy to. Kohl, don’t you still carry the stone from the drake? The one who attacked Niversai?’

  Kohl put his hand in his cloak pocket and retrieved the small crystal.

  The dragon hissed. ‘Fallen brother.’

  ‘There! Could we not…could we not move the dragon’s power back to this stone? It would weaken Aciel, save the dragon’s life, restore her strength…?’ Moroda asked, her voice quavering at the realisation of a possible solution.

  ‘Well… it is… such a long way…’ Topeko mused, taking the stone from Kohl and scrutinising it.

  The dragon spoke again. ‘Rhea herself kept me alive. Gave me the strength to live on through pain and anguish. This is the reason.’ Moroda could hear desperation in her voice. ‘This girl speaks truth. I know of your magic, Samolen. What she asks of you is hard… but it will work… it must work.’

  ‘Topeko?’ Morgen asked.

  ‘I fear there would be nothing to stop Aciel finding and killing more dragons to undo this effort,’ Topeko said.

  ‘There are so few elders remaining…do you think it truly likely?’ Moroda asked.

  ‘We have his ereven sphere. He’d have to be real lucky to find one.’ Morgen added.

  ‘There is chance to take main source of his power. Take the risk.’ Palom said.

  ‘Topeko. What do you need us to do?’ Amarah asked, stabbing her weapon on the floor again.

  ‘Light a fire, provide light and warmth. This may take some time.’ The Samolen said, sitting cross legged on the ground, his robes billowing around him. He took a deep breath, raised his hands, and began to work.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Topeko worked long into the night. While the fire crackled and the blizzard howled outside, the dragon seemed to sleep, closing her eyes and resting her jaw on her chest, almost motionless save for a little steam rising from her nostrils.

  Moroda sat beside Topeko and watched the drake’s stone carefully, waiting for any sign that the magic had worked. She had spent some time studying the dragon, amazed at how close she was to one of this age and power. The dragon’s scales were a dull grey- green colour, but the bulk of her body lay hidden in shadow, for she could not move save her forelegs and head. Even her wings drooped lifelessly at her side.

  Morgen bound up the worst of Kohl’s injuries, while Amarah and Palom kept watch at the cave’s mouth. Moroda hadn’t seen Palom so angry before, and the Ittallan kept his distance from Kohl. She hated conflict, but knew he could not find it in him to forgive the Arillian for his betrayal, no matter what his reasons were.

  Most of Kohl’s strength was focussed on keeping the blizzard going; Aciel’s scouts were unlikely to be found so high up, but no-one wished to risk being discovered now, at such a critical time. Moroda found the howling wind strangely comforting, as though no one could pierce their little bubble where inside the most incredible thing was happening.

  ‘What’s happening at the palace, I wonder.’ Morgen said. He sat beside Kohl, his back against the cave wall, sword across his knees. ‘Those poor souls. Against Sapora and Isa.’

  ‘Isa sounds like she’s got things under control.’ Amarah said, leaning on her scythe near the mouth of the cave. ‘Guess she’d have to. With a brother like Sapora.’

  ‘But the ones he killed… They couldn’t even fight back, he was so fast. And the servants who had to tidy everything up after.’

  ‘Feel bad for them, you know.’ Amarah said, scratching her cheek. ‘I know what it’s like. Tried to get a job properly once, when I first came to Corhaven at twelve. Pah. It’s why I hate Goldstones—worked for three different families. They all shared the same dismissive view of anyone beneath them.’

  Morgen fiddled with his sword’s scabbard, but said nothing.

&
nbsp; ‘I cooked, cleaned, clothed, bathed and served them, and the best I ever got was a sneer! If they weren’t barking orders, they were complaining about me and what I did or didn’t do; changing from one day to the next. One day I’d work too quickly, the next, too slowly. I kept changing to suit, but it was never good enough. After the third family brought me to tears, I vowed to get away from it— to one day have them serve me! Laughable, really, but it drove me to get out. Hah, that third family was my first theft in Corhaven, come to think of it. A diamond necklace with a single opal in the centre. Pretty little thing. Worth fifty crowns; what I’d earn in a year cleaning up after them.

  Theft itself was easy enough; I dusted the cabinet it was kept in every day. Getting close was too easy, even taking it off the rock it sat on was simple. Strange thing was it took nearly six weeks before the woman who owned it realised it was missing! I’d long since sold it and made enough coin to get me through. After I stopped working for ‘em, a notice went up in the local tavern: five crown reward for the return of the stolen necklace.

  Made me laugh it took that spoiled bitch so long to realise— she had so much money and so many jewels that she didn’t notice one go missing! But I guess five crowns is pocket change to a Goldstone.’

  ‘It’s not her fault, you know,’ Moroda said quietly.

  Amarah snorted. ‘Just watching them palace servants and how they reacted to the Varkain reminded me of what it was like for me. But there’s ways out of it if you don’t like it. Always is. Most servants say there’s no other way of life, but I escaped and do alright for myself. They can do the same.’

  ‘Wonder how easy it is for a royal servant to leave, though.’ Morgen said, looking up at Amarah. ‘Not quite the same as working for a rich family, I bet. Probably kill you if you leave. Sapora doesn’t seem to care.’

  Moroda thought to Andel. Though he wasn’t a servant as such, he did cater to Topeko’s needs and acted every bit a wonderful host when they had spent time in Berel. Andel had seemed very comfortable in his role, even if he didn’t say a single word to them. If it weren’t for Andel, they never would have realised an ereven sphere would lead them to the situation they were in now. Fate was funny sometimes.

  You couldn’t help where you were born, what life you were handed. You had to make the best of it, and hope that things would work out, didn’t you?

  ‘Kohl…’ Moroda said, deciding to address him. ‘I know you didn’t want to… behave as you did. I know you didn’t intend for anyone to be hurt.’ She swallowed, thinking about her words and trying to hold back tears. ‘Jato actually left us. She left us with the other Arillians. You could have stayed, you know. I don’t think she wanted to fight. She seemed more interested in getting back to Aciel.’

  Kohl grimaced. ‘She… she didn’t attack you?’

  ‘Not then, no. Maybe… Maybe just wait and see how things pan out before you decide whether to stay or go. I guess we will see more of her, or Aciel, or the other Arillians before this war is finished. We really need you with us.’

  She heard Palom’s growl from somewhere to her left, but ignored it, her attention on Kohl.

  ‘Surely you wish for me to die, Moroda. What I did was deplorable.’

  ‘No, of course I don’t wish that. You dying would not… bring… Eryn back. Or Anahrik. I’d feel even worse, if anything.’

  ‘Moroda, you don’t still trust him, do you?’ Morgen asked. ‘I know you were fearful. We all were. If I had a pair of wings, I’d have flown away, too. But it was an awful situation you were in, one you tried to avoid.’ Moroda said.

  Kohl took his hat off and held it over his chest, his scars clear in the firelight. ‘You honour me, Moroda. But I do not deserve your kindness.’

  Everyone deserves kindness.’

  Morgen shook his head with a grunt, but did not say anything.

  ‘Moroda. I’ve met a lot of people in my time but I can’t say I’ve met anyone like you. I told you before and I’ll tell you again. Your nature will get you killed.’ Amarah said.

  ‘Well I don’t know how to be any other way, Amarah. I don’t think I can be any other way. I’m doing the best I can.’

  ‘You’re doing just fine, Moroda.’ Kohl said, placing his hat back on his head.

  A snore from the dragon reverberated in the cave and Moroda returned her attention to Topeko. He rocked slowly where he sat, silent and deaf to all but his work. She could see sweat beading on his brow and she did not think he was aware of anything outside his own magic.

  Palom was sullen and silent, and Moroda was happy to give him as much space as he needed to. She’d not noticed quite how emotional he could become, and found him a little intimidating, even though his rage was directed at Kohl.

  She wanted to speak more with Kohl, to find out about Jato and what happened with Aciel to cause his exile, but she had no energy left for a deep conversation, nor did she think Palom could listen to much more of it.

  Moroda supposed they were all behaving the same way as she. They were all being themselves, doing what they thought was the best thing to do. Rightly or wrongly, none of them knew, but they couldn’t be any different. Even Sapora, with his brutal behaviour, and Aciel, in his justification of his takeover. She shuddered at the memory of him. Regardless of his justification and Topeko’s earlier words, Aciel’s behaviour was wrong.

  She thought to Eryn, and wished her sister could be with her now to offer comfort, conversation, and company. She thought back to her former home in Niversai, half a world away, and wondered what was left of the great city. If the castle had fallen, the city itself would not have fared well, either.

  *

  Moroda slept a little, drifting in and out of sleep throughout the night. No-one said anything else for the rest of the evening, and the fire remained lit to provide heat and light while Topeko worked.

  In her dreams, she and Eryn were in Niversai, fleeing from some unknown hunter. A shadow followed their every step, getting closer whenever they turned to look behind them. Suddenly, it shapeshifted into a great dragon with glowing green eyes, but instead of fire, it breathed smoke that froze everything it came into contact with. Rosecastle was turned into an enormous statue of ice, people all around it frozen solid as the shadow-dragon flew over and breathed more and more freezing smoke with each pass.

  She held Eryn’s hand as they ran, rounding a corner and racing past lines of grounded airships, their wooden hulls rotten and falling apart. Eryn screamed and Moroda let go of her hand. She looked over her shoulder as she continued to run, and the shadow-dragon descended on her sister, smothering her in smoke and ash.

  Moroda woke with a start, her cloak bundled up around her, and it took several moments before she remembered where she was. Licking her lips, she yawned, piecing together what was real and what was a remnant from her dream. A wave of sadness passed over her as she remembered Eryn’s death, and she whimpered quietly.

  The crackle of the fire turned her attention back to Topeko. Though it was almost morning, it appeared the Samolen had hardly moved a muscle. ‘Topeko?’ she ventured, knowing full well she’d not get a response.

  Kohl and Morgen seemed half asleep, but Amarah and Palom’s backs were to her, so she could only hope they were awake. She returned her attention to Topeko and the small crystal sat in front of him.

  Shuffling over, she knelt beside him and stared at the crystal while he continued to mumble through his incantations. She wondered what their purpose was. It was not something she had been taught or shown during her brief time in Berel, and she was again reminded of how little she knew. Moroda clutched her ring as she watched the stone, trying not to blink, until her eyes watered and her vision blurred.

  Then, as the dawn sunlight trickled into the cave, it finally began to happen. She had been drifting in and out of sleep, and it happened so slowly at first that she thought it was simply her tired eyes tricking her, but the crystal began to glow. It was a bright, pinkish-purple, rich in hue, and shimmer
ed in the firelight.

  Moroda was in awe at Topeko’s abilities—she had not dared to truly hope it could be done, but the dragon herself had agreed, and now the fruits of the Samolen’s work were beginning to show.

  As Topeko drew to a finish, Moroda saw the exertion of the work beginning to take its toll on his body. Sweat drenched the top half of his robes and he hunched forward like an old man. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but was scared to distract him in case she affected the magic.

  Finally, he opened his eyes and raised his hand to the crystal laid on the ground. At his touch, the stone ignited and burned a bright, violent purple, flickering for a few seconds, before extinguishing itself. ‘It’s warm.’

  ‘You have done it, Samolen.’ The dragon breathed, her eyes twinkling in the low light.

  ‘You have?’ Morgen said, getting to his feet and hurrying over. ‘Amarah! Palom! Look!’

  ‘Kohl, you drew this stone from my blood brother. You will now give it to me.’ The dragon said, shifting her position so the open wound on her chest was visible.

  Moroda stood up, exhausted, though she had slept and done nothing to aid Topeko with the crystal. She was excited and nervous, eager to see what would happen.

  Though weak, Kohl picked up the stone from Topeko and made his way to the dragon’s side. The cave rumbled with her breath and growl, a dormant power that set everyone on edge.

  Moroda shivered. This was myth and gods, meddling and magic, and she wasn’t quite sure whether it was the best thing to do. But it felt like the right thing to do. Stopping Aciel was important to bring peace to Linaria. Helping this dragon was one essential part of that. ‘The crystal is now full of your sacred power.’ Topeko said, as Kohl carefully rested his hand on the dragon’s side, clutching the stone in his other hand. ‘I have moved all the energy from Aciel’s stone, to this one… and now Kohl returns it to you.’

  Moroda held her breath as Kohl gripped the stone and plunged it into her chest.