by Clay Kronke
"It wouldn't have mattered," Mira said. "The building emptied out not long after. How many came with you? Are there any other survivors?"
Petra's face fell and her voice dropped. "Just one," she said. "Jor. He stayed up on the surface in case anyone came to investigate. He's probably still under the archway closest to the wreck."
Mira tapped her earpiece. "Castle, we have another one up on the surface," she said. "Archway in the southern wall."
"Copy that," Aris's voice said in her ear. "Already on my way."
"Don't worry," Mira said. "We'll have you both out of here soon. I'm Mira, by the way."
"Petra," she said, smiling thinly.
"What about your friend that was with you…?"
Petra's smile vanished, and she simply shook her head.
Mira understood. "I'm sorry," she said. "If I had recognized you on Aelden, this might have all gone a little differently."
Petra shrugged, her eyes welling up. "It's okay. He helped me along the way. Helped me find you—" She broke off as a memory came back to her. "Find you," she repeated, chuckling slightly.
"What is it?" Gareth asked.
She looked up at him, and there was something like renewed hope behind her eyes. "Jor said I'd find what I was looking for here," Petra said, a smile beginning to form. "I brushed it off as religious nonsense, but…" She gestured to the two of them. "Here you are." Petra frowned suddenly, cocking her head to the side, listening. "Okay do you hear that?" she turned to walk toward the other end of the chamber. "I swear I'm hearing voices, whispering." She raised her head, looking around. "Hello?"
As Petra crossed the room, muttering to herself, Mira stepped up next to Gareth. "Does she seem kind of odd to you?"
"What, the talking to herself thing?" Gareth said, then shrugged. "Kinda reminds me of me."
"There!" Petra called, turning back to face them. "Did you hear that? I clearly heard the word proximity. I don't know what it means."
A sound like the rumble of thunder on crumbling stone made them all freeze in place. "I might," Gareth said as a large section of stone and crystal against the far wall began to move. Petra spun toward the sound and they all watched as an enormous dark mass unfolded itself and rose up out of the dim half-light.
"Oh god," Petra said.
"Stay very still," Gareth said, trying to keep his voice even. The shape moved forward, and as it came farther into the light, Gareth realized that it was a very large, very old dragon, but unlike any he had ever seen. It was easily twice the size of even the largest specimen on record, straightening up to tower over them. The scales along the lower half of its body were no longer a shiny iridescent black, but had dulled to a flat dark brown, resembling the stone of the cavern around it. And the scales along the top of its head and down its back were irregular and had grown into crystalline shaped protrusions that jutted out from the creature's skin at odd angles. Those had retained their reflective sheen, giving the appearance that it was encrusted with the same crystalline formations as the cavern it inhabited. "I think we found our queen," Gareth breathed.
It straightened up on its haunches, then lowered its head down until it was level with Petra, who stood paralyzed mere feet in front of the creature. While it seemed to study her, Gareth slowly sidestepped over until he was standing in front of Mira.
"What about her?" Mira whispered.
"She'll be okay," Gareth whispered back.
"Are you sure?"
The dragon sniffed around Petra, taking its time looking at all three of them, turning to Gareth last. He held his breath. Then, without warning, the creature pulled its neck back, then snapped forward, expelling a short burst of plasma directly down onto Petra.
She shrieked, throwing her hands up in front of her, but the plasma parted around her harmlessly as purple flames licked away across the floor of the cavern. Petra opened her eyes and looked at her arms, stunned. "What just happened?" she asked, but froze again as the dragon lowered its head level with her. "Guys?" she said, clear panic in her voice. The creature's head was inches away, and it seemed to be studying her.
"It'll be all right," Gareth said. "Trust me."
Mira seemed to catch up. "She's one of yours," she said.
Gareth only nodded, waiting. After another interminable minute, the dragon suddenly straightened up, stepped over Petra and put its head and shoulders between them. Gareth and Mira took an involuntary step backward, and the creature matched pace, bringing its head right up in front of them.
"Guys?" Petra said, now standing directly below the dragon's torso.
Gareth wasn't sure what to do. He held out his hands, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. "Don't move," He said slowly.
"Look at its posture," Mira whispered. "That's a protective stance."
"Why would it do that?" Gareth asked.
"Um, guys?" Petra interrupted.
"What?"
They couldn't see her face but could hear her chuckle slightly. "Um … she's … talking to me."
Mira looked confused. "How?"
"I can hear her voice in my head," Petra said. "I think that's what I was hearing earlier, I just wasn't close enough."
"Her … voice?" Gareth said. "Like actual words?"
"What is it?" Mira asked, noticing Gareth's visible surprise.
He turned to her. "Anytime I've ever tried to communicate with one, I've barely gotten more than vague images or feelings. Certainly nothing on the level of actual language."
"Well, you've never met a queen before," she said.
"True," he said. "I wonder why Petra can hear her, but I can't?"
Another giggle came from where Petra was standing. "Because you're not a girl."
Gareth rolled his eyes. "Of course."
"Apparently females of our kinds are on the same wavelength," she said. There was a pause. "Wait, our kinds?"
"I hate hearing only one side of a conversation," Gareth said. The dragon, in response, shifted its head and seemed to look directly at Gareth.
"You sure?" Petra's voice piped up from behind the dragon's shoulders. "Um, okay. Hang on."
Gareth was about to ask what she meant, when Petra suddenly ducked between the creature's torso and folded front wing and appeared beside its head. "Careful—" he started, but Petra was already reaching up and placing her hand on the flat area behind the dragon's eye. Her body immediately slackened, her eyes unfocused and her breathing shallowed.
"Oh, that can't be good," he said.
Petra blinked a few times, straightened back up, then lifted her face. She wore a completely impassive expression and there seemed to be a reddish glow behind her eyes that was startling.
"Are you all right?" Mira asked. She didn't seem to know what to make of it either.
Petra looked down at herself, frowning slightly. She lifted a hand up in front of her face, turned it over, examining it like it was the first time she was seeing it. "This vessel is unharmed," Petra said, but her voice came out deeper, and was strangely accented. She dropped her hand, looked directly at Gareth, and when she spoke, her voice was regal and powerful.
"I am Lirwe, Queen and Mother of the First Race."
Gareth was at a clear loss for words. "Um…" he swallowed. "Okay."
Mira leaned in close to Gareth, whispering. "Is she—?"
Gareth nodded. "Using Petra as a conduit? Looks that way."
"Your arrival is most unexpected," Lirwe said through Petra.
"I don't suppose you get many visitors," Gareth said.
"Do not misunderstand," Lirwe said. "Many have come before, some for conquest, some for trial, some for tribute." Petra's expression narrowed. "None have survived. But you are the first to return home."
Gareth frowned. "Home?"
"This vessel, Petra Ryath, and you Gareth Lorr, are children
of the Second Race," Lirwe said.
"The Second Race," Gareth repeated, turning to Mira. "I've seen that phrase, mostly in historical texts, but I never knew what it meant."
"Our kinds were once linked," Lirwe explained. "Two symbiont species in synergistic harmony. We shared this world until it became inhospitable to your biology. You fled, hoping to seek a new home for those that still lived. In untold millennia, you are the first to come back."
Gareth's face was agape. "We … fled? That must have been eons ago. Our history on Acradia goes back hundreds of thousands of years."
Mira put her hand on his shoulder. "Do you need to sit down?"
"Um," Gareth said, not knowing where to start. "There's always been debate as to where we fit on the evolutionary timeline, but … this completely rewrites everything." He massaged his temple. "This means our species is far older than anyone previously thought and didn't even originate on Acradia."
"It explains why your biochemistry is different than most human populations," Mira said.
"That is because you are not human," Lirwe said, "despite your similarity in appearance."
Gareth laughed. "Maybe I do need to sit down…"
"Curious," Lirwe said. "This vessel is not part of your group."
"Not initially," Gareth said. "We arrived separately, met here."
"Very curious," Lirwe said. "The timing would seem fortuitous. What is your purpose here?"
Gareth took a deep breath. "We need your help."
The dragon's eyes seemed to narrow, and the voice that came out of Petra was nothing but authoritative.
"Show me."
Petra lifted her free hand and extended it toward Gareth. He took a breath and stepped forward. Petra placed her fingertips against his forehead, and he closed his eyes, doing his best to show Petra – and through her, Lirwe – exactly what they were up against.
After a minute he stepped back, releasing contact and waiting as the dragon seemed to regard him with a critical eye. There was a long moment of silence. Finally, the creature's head nodded almost imperceptibly.
"I will not do this for you or your conflict," Lirwe said, her voice measured. "I will do this for my kind. And I will do it for her."
emergence
The wind blew in Aris's face as he stood next to what used to be a small transport ship. He had flown back over to inspect the crash site and make sure there weren't any other survivors trapped or unconscious that the others had somehow missed. He was standing outside of where the port hatch should have been, looking instead into the empty space where much of the outer hull plating on that side of the vessel once was. "I'm at the crash site now," he said, talking to Gareth over his communicator.
"How does it look?" the wizard's voice came back.
"Worse up close," Aris said. "You can see the individual teeth marks." He pulled out a hand lamp and stepped inside, watching where he stepped as most of the inner bulkheads had buckled, if not ruptured completely, forming a jagged, undulating mass of metal.
"Do you expect to find anyone?" Gareth asked.
"Not really," Aris admitted. Standing in the access behind the cockpit, he could see two bodies, both pretty mangled. One looked like a pilot, the other wore robes of some kind, and the face was obscured by strands of long, wavy hair. "The damage is pretty bad," he turned and stepped toward the back, ducking under fallen support beams. "I'm surprised even three made it out. How are things on your end?"
"We got what we need, we're coming up," Gareth said, his voice odd. "I'll explain more when we get there."
"Understood," Aris said, stepping through a curtain of conduit and piping into a space that had been a rear hold, but was now almost completely unrecognizable as such. "Let me know when you're on the surface, I'll swing back around and pick you up."
"Will do. Lure out," Gareth signed off.
Aris sighed and turned back around but stopped as a sudden creaking could be heard toward the other end of the ship. Aris stepped quietly, listening as he headed for the front. The noise repeated, followed by a timid voice calling into the ship. "Hello? Is someone there?"
"Don't come inside, it's not safe," Aris said. "I'm on my way out." He climbed back through the wreckage of the ship and came out to find a man standing just outside the hole. He wore long robes with dark, shoulder length hair and his expression brightened considerably as Aris emerged.
"You're a ranger," the man said, relief saturating his voice. "Thank the Goddess, I didn't think we'd see a response to our distress signal for some time."
Aris frowned. He had expected the survivors to be part of a scientific or research expedition, or even explorers, but this person looked like a member of a religious delegation, and he couldn't think of a reason why members of any clergy would be this far out in the Andula Belt.
"You wouldn't have," Aris said. "We're in the middle of a sensor dead zone, so you're lucky we were already here. And I'm not a ranger anymore, but the jacket was expensive, and I wasn't inclined to get rid of it." He extended a hand. "Captain Aris Cobalt."
The man took his hand and shook it warmly. "I'm Brother Jor, of the Temple of Imwe," he said, "and I'm thankful you're here, all the same. Though I'm embarrassed to admit my traveling companions didn't stay with me, they ventured off—"
"I know," Aris interrupted. "My teammates are retrieving your compatriot as we speak."
"Compatriot?" Jor sounded surprised. "There were two…"
"Shouldn't have ventured into a dragon hive," Aris said, not bothering to keep the edge out of his voice. "Now there's one. For that matter you shouldn't have ventured onto a dragon world. As much trouble as we had getting down here, you shouldn't have survived the trip."
Jor looked confused. "Yet you expected to?"
"We're Kingsguard, we're actually equipped for it," Aris said, starting back toward Vermithrax, motioning for the Brother to follow. "Come on, we need to get back to the city."
Aris stepped up into the ship and made his way to the cockpit, with Jor a few steps behind.
"Wait, so if it was coincidence that you found us, then why were you here in the first place?" Jor asked as he sat down in one of the secondary chairs behind Aris, who was going through preflight.
"We're dragonhunters," Aris said through strained patience. "Why were you?"
Jor frowned and looked at the floor. "Ah, yes, well, members of my Brotherhood will periodically make pilgrimages out to pay tribute—"
"Wait, don't tell me," Aris cut in. "Dragon worshippers?"
"Yes, but it's not quite as simple as—"
"And just how many of your Brotherhood have come back from these pilgrimages?" Aris asked.
Jor could see the point Aris was getting to, and he paused. "Um … none, so far," he admitted.
Aris took the ship up, shaking his head. He swiveled around, the tower coming into their field of view. "And you didn't think that was a little concerning?" he asked as they approached the tower, angling for the same flat patch he had set down in earlier.
"Well we just assumed—" Jor started.
"Of course you did," Aris interrupted. "It really shouldn't surprise me; most religions don't include common sense as part of their precepts."
"Have I done something to offend you, Captain?"
Aris paused, collecting himself. He realized he was frustrated more with the situation than he was with the Brother specifically, and it wouldn't really do any good to chastise Jor when he was likely just following his organization's directives.
He set the ship down again, switched the engines over to standby, then turned around to face Jor. "No," Aris said, his tone softening. "But you made a decision without having all the information, and it got people killed. And now I'm having to deal with it when I have literally far bigger problems on my hands, so please forgive me if I'm a little short with you right now." He turned
to his comm screen and opened a channel. "All right Lure, I'm back, what's your status?"
"Just getting to the surface," Gareth's voice came across. "Though I suspect you'll meet one of our guests before we get there."
Aris frowned. "One of? Did you find another survivor?"
"No," Gareth said, "but our objective got an unexpected assist—"
"My Goddess," Jor breathed, and Aris turned to find him staring, open-mouthed, through the front viewport. He followed his gaze to see an enormous dragon rising into the air in front of the tower, seeming to head directly toward them. It grew bigger until it was taking up most of the viewport, and just as it seemed like it was going to collide with the ship, it backflapped twice and set down on top of a ruined building a dozen feet away. The creature let its wings drape down in front of it like a cloak as it sat up straight, peering down at them imperiously.
Aris was amazed. He had never seen a specimen that large, or that old. The scale ridges on its brow and down its back had grown craggy and long, jutting out at odd angles from its hide that glistened with an iridescent sheen even in the dim sunlight. It was an impressive creature, more so for the fact that it just sat there, impassive and unmoving. "Nice job," Aris said. "How are you controlling her without a rider?"
"We're not," Gareth's voice came back. "We're trusting her. Do me a favor and open the hold so we can get her inside."
"Right," Aris said, getting up and flipping a switch above him. "See you shortly." He turned to see Jor sitting as far back in his chair as he was able, his face transfixed on the creature with an expression of horror mixed with fascination. "Are you … actually bringing that thing onto the ship?" he asked, not looking away from the viewport.
Aris raised an eyebrow. He was getting tired of this. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Does your reverence for the creatures not actually extend to the creatures themselves?"
"It's not that simple—"
"It never is," Aris cut in. "Don't worry, she won't fit anywhere but the hold, so you're welcome to avoid that part of the ship. Excuse me." With that, he turned and walked out of the cockpit, not waiting for a response.