Rosinanti_Rise of the Dragon Lord

by Kevin J. Kessler

  “It shall be a most momentous day, Mistress.”

  “Are we prepared for the next stage?”

  “See for yourself, my empress.” Aurax gestured toward the long balcony of Aleksandra’s immense throne room. She walked with barely contained excitement and gazed out over her city. Hovering in the air above them sat thirty armed and ready battle-capable airships, all emblazoned in red and black. She could feel the presence of the thousands of Skirlack housed within their hulls, and she looked with pride upon the lead ship, massive and spiked on the sides, dwarfing all the others. It was her dreadnaught, set to tear through her enemies and wipe their heathen city from the face of Terra, forever.

  “Go forth, Aurax,” she purred in delight. “Go forth and bring chaos unto their lands.”

  “Your will be done, Mistress,” he replied, vanishing in a haze of red and black.

  Within seconds of his departure, the dreadnaught lurched forward, crawling along the sky, turning in the direction of Grassan. The other ships followed suit, and soon her army was in motion. This would be a day long remembered as her empire stretched to cover the whole of creation.

  A twinge upon the back of her mind drew her attention down into the city. She could feel the clashing forces of order and darkness as they smashed against one another in some unknown location. Seraphina’s concealment spell was powerful, and she could not pinpoint her exact location just yet. It was frustrating, but the empress knew she need only bide her time. Then, she felt the darkness give way, snuffed out amidst the surge of Seraphina’s power.

  Had Kayden truly been defeated? Was he dead? No. He could not have been killed. There was a psychic bond between the two of them, and had he fallen fatally, she would know. Still, Kayden’s failure shocked her. She had thought her animus warrior more than capable of toppling her little sister. Had Kayden been tricked? Or weakened by his prolonged captivity in her dungeon, crippled by fear and self-doubt? Or had Seraphina continued to grow mighty? Either way, the issue of her sister continued to be a consistent thorn in her side. The will of her people had begun to shift in the direction of this Ice Queen. That would never do. She had to burn Seraphina from existence and melt her followers into a puddle of pulpy mess.

  She looked back at the Skeletal Throne, at the slight pulse of power contained within.

  “Soon, sister,” she said aloud, more for her own affirmation than anything else. “Soon, there will be nowhere to hide.”

  XVI: The Unloved Child

  The sound of chattering people broke through the darkness. Kayden’s eyes snapped open at the surprising noise, and he squinted in the morning sunlight. All around him moved the hurried forms of humans bustling about, some holding large baskets filled with food or trinkets. They smiled to one another, laughed as if they had not a care in the world—as if a black dragon born of their darkest fears hadn’t laid waste to all they held dear.

  He stood straight and tall, so sure that once someone recognized the face of their tormentor, he would inspire the fear that he had worked so hard to instill within them. But no one cried out, no one looked at him, no one noticed the single most powerful force of darkness in the entirety of Terra standing in their midst. He gazed around in confusion. What was happening? How had he even gotten here? He had been battling Seraphina beneath the surface of Aleksandrya. Now he stood in the blazing daylight in what appeared to be the market district, not of Aleksandrya but of Kackritta. He whirled around, gazing in shock at the red and white spires of Kackritta Castle.

  What had happened to Aleksandra? What had happened to the world? Was he going mad?

  “Good morning,” a voice said from behind him. He whirled around and came face to face with Seraphina standing not in her azure light body armor and braid but adorned in a blue gown, chocolate locks of hair cascading around her shoulders. Without thinking, Kayden snarled and leapt at her with his hands outstretched like claws. The princess made not one move to avoid him as Kayden phased harmlessly through her body like a ghost, crashing to the ground behind her.

  “What sorcery is this, witch?” Kayden spat at her, spinning up to his feet. “Where are we?”

  “We haven’t left the catacombs,” she replied, stifling a giggle at seeing Kayden humiliate himself. “You’re lying on the ground in a puddle of drool, and I’m sitting over you, peering into your mind with the power of order.”

  “So this is…”

  “Your mind. Or more accurately, the string of memories I dug through.”

  “I will break free from this, and when I do, I will eviscerate you!”

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Kayden. Not until we arrive at the bottom of all this.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of why you are the way you are! Of what made you turn on us the way you did! I want to understand it, and what’s more, I want you to understand what you’ve done.”

  “You don’t think I know what I’ve done?”

  “No, I don’t,” Seraphina spat back sharply, pointing a finger in his face. “I can feel the darkness of your power here, clouding you from the truth. It’s corrupting you, overriding the boy I once knew.”

  Kayden laughed. “If that’s what you need to keep telling yourself, Princess, by all means, continue to do so. But I made the choice to decimate your people, I made the choice to destroy your home, and I made the choice to batter you around those catacombs.”

  “We will see.” Seraphina looked away, dismissing him and making his blood hot with rage. “Where are we? The market district?”

  “I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? Up in that ivory tower of yours.”

  Seraphina ignored him again, and he glared at her back with dark hatred. His fingers curled and uncurled, imagining the sweet sensation of tearing out her throat.

  Seraphina ignored Kayden’s barbs, instead choosing to enjoy the sight of her kingdom long before the cataclysm her sister had wrought upon it. She sighed at the bustling land of happiness Kackritta had once been before the stain of Aleksandrya.

  “I don’t understand what this place has to do with anything,” Kayden spat, and Seraphina could feel his agitation in the wind. This was the arena of Kayden’s mind, and everything he felt reverberated throughout this false reality.

  “I followed the flow of your unease to this moment, to this place.”

  “I have no unease.”

  Seraphina laughed at him again. It was sad the way he continued to lie to her with such confidence. The entire plane they stood upon shuddered with his growing internal conflict, and he boldly attempted to spit falsehoods into her face.

  “You cannot lie to me in this place, Kayden,” she said, shaking her head. “In here, I can sense every emotion you have.”

  Suddenly breaking through the crowd, there came a young boy, maybe six or seven years old, the grip of blind panic seizing his frosty blue eyes. Long, ebony hair bounced against his forehead with every step. Seraphina recognized him easily. It was Kayden. So young, so scared, so innocent.

  The real Kayden’s head snapped over to his younger counterpart, and Seraphina could feel clarity blossom within his mind. He knew exactly where they were, when they were.

  She smirked at him. “Feel familiar yet?”

  “Shut up,” he growled back, his eyes not leaving that of the boy.

  “Father?” the young Kayden called out in the busy street. “Father? Where are you?” There was terror in the boy’s voice as he desperately weaved through the various shoppers on the market street, wringing his hands before his body.

  She felt a wave of revulsion spread through the air. “Were you lost?” Seraphina asked.

  The animus warrior snorted and curled his lip. He must have realized there was no sense in lying to her because he tore his eyes away from the boy momentarily to answer her question.

  “I was here with my father and Valentean. It was one of the first times we had journeyed this far into the market.” The boy continued to scream and run about, every adult on the street ignoring
his cries. “I had stopped to watch a street mage conjuring sparks, and I lost sight of my father.”

  “You look terrified,” Seraphina said, pointing to the young boy as he clutched at the pant leg of a stranger, seeking help. The older man brushed him aside with ease and continued walking without even looking at him.

  “I had never been alone before,” he replied, and Seraphina could sense his embarrassment and rage. “I tried to find help. I tried to ask adults to stop, but no one listened. They just kept on walking, or they dodged around me. They likely thought I was some kind of pickpocket.” The boy stopped by a large table upon which sat various tapestries for sale, and he fell to the ground. Kayden’s teeth tightened behind his lips, and Seraphina could feel a sense of mounting dread.

  The boy began to cry, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks as he wailed in terrified sobs. The people continued to ignore him, moving past him as though he were some alley cat. Seraphina gazed down at the screaming child with compassion in her heart. He was so frightened, so alone. It tore her heart to pieces even knowing that he would grow into the monster who would disintegrate this entire area.

  “I thought I was invisible,” Kayden continued.

  “I can see why,” Seraphina responded with concern.

  “Don’t you dare pity me!”

  Seraphina rolled her eyes and was about to respond as a withered, old voice sounded behind them.

  “What’s wrong, boy? Are you lost?” The voice was ancient—a low rumble of words that sounded as though they were being pulled through loose stone. Seraphina, Kayden, and the boy turned to see a hunched old man, bald at the top of his head but with long white locks of hair that ran straight down over his shoulders, ending at the small of his back. His bare dome was covered in large, brown age spots, and his face was a mess of wrinkles, with a sharp nose like the tip of a blade that jutted out from his face. A long, thin, pointed goatee ran down from his chin, and he looked at the child with eyes so dark they were nearly black. He was adorned in loose-fitting robes, all black but for a yellow flourish running down each side. The hood of the garment lay crinkled against his back.

  “I…I can’t find my father,” he replied, sniffling but clearly relieved that someone had acknowledged him. Seraphina glanced at Kayden whose eyes were glued upon the encounter. Looking back, she saw the old man’s weathered lips pull back in a feral smile, showing off a mouth full of yellow, rotting teeth.

  “That’s a terrible shame,” the old man said, bringing a bony, long-fingered hand up to run along the length of his facial hair. “Who is your father?”

  “His name is Vahn Burai,” the younger version of Kayden replied. Then, his tiny chest puffed out through the hysterics with a surge of pride. “He’s the Captain Elite of Kackritta.”

  “Ah, yes, of course,” the elderly savior said. “Yes, I know of him well. Something of a celebrity around here, your father. How did you lose sight of him?”

  The boy shuffled nervously. “I stopped, and I thought he was right behind me.”

  “And he kept moving along?”

  The boy nodded.

  “Shouldn’t he have noticed you were gone? You would think a loving parent would have kept track of something as precious as his only son.”

  “I’m not his only son,” Kayden remarked. “My brother is with him.”

  “Oh, and did he lose your brother as well?”

  “Well…no. I don’t think so. I haven’t seen either of them.”

  “Strange, isn’t it? To keep track of one child while abandoning the other?”

  “My father did not abandon me!” Kayden’s child form recoiled, aghast at the very notion of this old monster.

  Seraphina looked over at Kayden as she felt a disturbance echo through the air. His teeth were clenched, his hands balled into fists. He watched the encounter beneath eyebrows drawn down and narrowed.

  “Well,” the old man replied, drawing Seraphina’s attention once more, “that’s not how it looks to me. Your father kept an eye on your brother but left you all alone. It’s all right, boy. I too was an unloved child.”

  “I am not unloved,” the boy replied, taking another step back. “My father loves me! He would never abandon me! For all I know, Valentean is lost too, and he’s searching for us both!” Tears began to pour down the boy’s cheeks again.

  “Isn’t that your father there?” The old man pointed a long-nailed finger into the distance, and the boy whirled around. Seraphina followed the child’s line of sight to see Vahn moving through the crowd, scanning the ground for Kayden. Valentean trotted along at his side, his hand firmly gripping that of his father.

  “Your warrior father seems to have an awfully strong grip on your brother’s hand.” The old man’s voice was now that of a whisper, spoken softly but still reverberating around them. “Maybe if he had held your hand with such a vigor, you never would have gotten lost.”

  The boy spun back toward the man and gasped. Seraphina turned too and saw that the elderly gentleman was gone. She scanned the crowd but saw no sign of his hunched, black-robed form.

  “Kayden!” she heard Vahn yell, plowing through the throngs of shoppers. Kayden turned at the sound of Vahn’s voice but made no move to rush toward him. The boy’s eyes narrowed with a cold stare of intense hatred directed not at Vahn but at his side. Instantly, the movement on the street stopped. The fragmented memories of passing shoppers froze in place, as did Vahn and Valentean. Darkness dimmed the surrounding light, leaving only the child forms of Kayden and Valentean illuminated. She watched the boy breathe hard while staring at his brother, the old man’s words echoing around them through Kayden’s mind.

  “Unloved child…”

  Valentean’s face was frozen in a relieved smile as he stared happily at his brother.

  “Unloved child…”

  Kayden’s mouth contorted into a shaking sneer.

  “Unloved…”

  “I hate you,” the boy growled under his breath, scarcely a whisper. Then, he froze as well, and the surrounding area faded into total darkness. Before her stood the still forms of Valentean and Kayden, so young and yet already on the path toward their inevitable conflict. She saw the joyous relief in Valentean’s face and the hard, steely rage blossoming within Kayden’s stare. A jolt of anger passed through the air around her, and Seraphina turned to see the adult form of Kayden staring at the sight before him.

  “Is this what you wanted to see, Princess?” His voice was soft, sad, and almost sounded defeated.

  “Kayden, that old man was horrible.”

  “But he was right.”

  “Did you ever see him again?”

  “No.”

  “There’s no way he could have vanished so quickly.”

  “It doesn’t matter. He was right. That was the day I started to see myself for what I am. A black sheep. A disappointment. Valentean and I were never equal in the eyes of the great Vahn Burai. There was his adored, cherished son, and there was the one who got left behind.”

  “Kayden, that’s not true.”

  “Shut your mouth, Seraphina! You have no idea. But you will before all of this is over. Then look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t understand my anger, my hatred.”

  Seraphina continued to stare sadly at the young boy with so much rage in his face. The dueling lights that illuminated the twins began to fade. Seraphina’s eyes remained fixed upon the boy’s angry stare until the blue pools of his icy rage faded into the darkness.

  XVII: The Invasion of Grassan

  There was a churning unease bubbling within Maura’s stomach as she watched dawn’s first rays appear upon the horizon. Today was the day, the moment of truth, in which the lives of thousands would depend upon the strength of their combined forces. Her hand unconsciously reached down to stroke the handle of one of the daggers at her side.

  Looking down from the window of King Matias’s throne room, she could see ground forces marching toward their posts—the secondary line of defense. She
felt a burning tug in her heart, wishing that she were joining them. But according to the king’s strategy, she was needed here in the throne room, far from where the heaviest fighting was to occur. She had protested this assignment, but he was the king, and there was little she could do to openly defy his orders when it came to the protection of his kingdom.

  “You seem tense,” Nahzarro said, coming up from behind her.

  She could see his reflection in the glass window but did not turn to meet his stare. “I just wish there was more I could be doing.”

  “You know that your job here is vital. You see that, don’t you?”

  Maura sighed. She was to remain by the side of the king and Nahzarro in the event that the air and ground forces failed to hold the enemy at bay. There was apparently some kind of failsafe weapon that existed within the castle that was only to be used as a last resort. Should the enemy advance beyond a certain location, only a member of the royal family could activate it. She was there to protect the weapon and ensure it could be used.

  “Yeah, I get it, okay?” Maura dismissively snapped toward the prince. She was hoping her hostile attitude might dissuade Nahzarro from further engagement, but he maintained his position behind her. She watched the silent squadron of magical airships rise into the morning sky, nearly twenty strong, heavily armored, and battle ready. She saw The Heart of Casid appear at the head of the company, markedly larger than the rest. It gleamed like a white pearl in the fledgling sunlight.

  It was a beautiful day, the sun rising into a clear and open sky. Maura found that to be an odd contrast, knowing full well the bloodshed the day was to bring. She scanned the heavens for any sign of the coming Aleksandryan horde. She knew that it was only a matter of time until their foretold arrival.

  Aurax had risked much by informing them of this impending attack. A sneak assault would have been far more beneficial to Aleksandra’s chances. But they clearly wanted her and her allies present in the city, and they were so certain of victory that the element of surprise was deemed completely unnecessary. That part unnerved Maura most of all.