The other Skirlack was different. Matias recognized him as the one they called Aurax. He was composed not of meat and bone but of energy. His power set to work upon the cleric, but he resisted. Then, all at once, Matias felt the whole of Grassan open up to him. With a triumphant scream of battle, his light erupted out from the palace in all directions, and he was everywhere at the same time. He glided forth on the current of light, seeing his soldiers valiantly fighting against the demons and being cut down one by one. He would save them. Their king had come at last to their defense.
Mitchell pulled the helm hard to port, attempting to intercept the Aleksandryan airship that was raining cannon fire down unto the city. To make matters worse, the explosions that followed their shuddering impact had the bright emerald glow of magic. Their arsenal was composed of the same weapon shells Mitchell and Michael had used to subdue General Zouka in the ruins of Kahntran.
The Duzels moved in tandem, flipping switches, moving levers, pressing buttons, all with the intent of adjusting their course to bring them parallel to the attacking vessel. The airship could be piloted by one person if need be, but it functioned with much higher levels of efficiency when helmed by two. Once they were within range, the Grassani soldiers who served as The Heart of Casid’s crew opened fire. The metal hull of the enemy ship was dented and damaged, while many of their projectiles had managed to pierce the interior of the vessel, no doubt wreaking havoc within.
The Aleksandryan airship shuddered and listed to the side. “Up!” Mitchell cried out.
“Roger!” Michael replied as their fingers flew over the controls in an attempt to avoid the counterattack that even now began to fly at them, exploding against their hull in multicolored bursts of energy. The ship rocked to the side but had managed to ascend enough to where the damage was mostly superficial. Either way, if they survived this, Mitchell was going to need to make some repairs.
As the brothers turned for another pass, an explosion lit the viewport, momentarily blinding them. Mitchell squinted through the glare and saw a vision that made his heart leap with excitement. The Aleksandryan Dreadnaught was in flames and plummeting toward the sea, where it impacted with a final burst of flame that was smothered and doused by a resounding splash.
What had done this? None of their weapons nor those of their allies had been able to so much as dent the titanic aircraft. Then, a powerful roar answered Mitchell’s silent question.
“Whoa…” Michael said beside him at the sight of an all-powerful white dragon hovering in the air, watching as its prey crashed uselessly beneath the waves.
“Valentean…” Mitchell breathed as though he could scarcely believe what he was seeing. As a man of science, to be faced with such a fantastical creature, even knowing it was in reality their friend, was a moment in which his fundamental belief system was shattered. The Aleksandryan warship had been a marvel of technology, and the dragon had destroyed it in mere seconds.
Then, the alabaster goliath spread its leathery wings and dove down toward the next Aleksandryan ship, knocking it out of the sky where it careened into the nearby mountain range and exploded. The brothers watched in awe as the scaled titan battered airship after airship, all colored red and baring the sigil of Aleksandrya. Mitchell’s focus only left the scene of aerial destruction and dominance as an intense glare shone in his lower peripheral vision.
“What is this now?” The inventor straightened his spectacles upon his nose and watched with cautious interest as a white light erupted from the Grassani royal palace and spread in all directions.
“Is this good or bad?” Michael asked from beside him, craning his neck up in the co-pilot’s seat to get a clear view of what was happening below.
“I…well, I have no idea.”
Another series of explosions rocked the airship though it had not been from any attack. Valentean had blown the final Aleksandryan airship out of the sky, and the concussive force of the blast had shaken the slightly battered Heart of Casid. The airships of Grassan all broke formation, absent of enemies, and began to lower toward the city. Valentean’s glowing, reptilian eyes fixed themselves on the only other sizable object on his level—their ship. Without warning, the dragon swooped toward them.
“H…he knows it’s us, right?” Michael asked, the edge of panic piercing his voice.
The dragon barreled toward them at breakneck speed, and Mitchell froze with terror. “Brace yourself!”
The entire viewport was taken up by the incoming bulk of scales and teeth, and just as the white dragon was about to tear through them as easily as it had dispatched the vessels of their enemies, it veered off course, passing above the ship, rocking it to and fro in the wake of its flight. For a moment, no one on the command bridge dared to breathe. Had he not heard the slow shaking sound of his brother letting out a long exhale, Mitchell might have passed out from oxygen deprivation. But the moment had passed, and the Duzels, along with their Grassani crew, managed to calm down and take a moment to appreciate their aerial victory.
“Now,” Mitchell said, removing his spectacles and wiping them on his shirt before affixing them back upon his nose with a shaking grip, “let’s see what’s going on down below.”
Deana’s temporary clinic was overrun with the dead or dying. She was breathing hard as though she had herself been out amongst the terror, sprinting through the streets.
If only… she thought to herself.
Deana laid a palm along the forehead of a wounded soldier, three gash wounds leaking blood and gore out with every pump of his heart. The young man was screaming, as were most of the brave soldiers who were carried into her care. The field medics had done an amazing job of bandaging him up, but it was only a temporary fix. As Deana worked her magic upon him, she could feel the warm light of the healing waves working their way through him, sealing up the punctures and soothing the young man’s panic. Soon he was in a deep slumber, and Deana was, for once, thankful for the chair in which she endlessly sat. The swirl of dizziness that rocked the room to and fro would have surely caused her to collapse had she been standing.
The young healer slumped down in her chair, trying to summon the will to remain awake and alert. There were more patients who needed healing. Though her eyelids drooped and her head hung low, Deana knew she could not fall asleep. To do so would mean the deaths of warriors who were counting on her aid.
“We have to abandon the camp!” The voice was shrill and frenzied and snapped Deana from her exhaustion. A young triage nurse ran inside, apron covered with blood.
“What’s wrong?” Deana asked. Every eye within the clinic was now on the hysterical female.
“The monsters…they’re breaking through the lines! They’ll be here within minutes! It’s over!”
Deana felt a fist close around her heart. If the Skirlack were approaching that quickly, there was no hope for escape. Not for one with such limited ambulatory functions. And what of their charges lying in agony around the room? Who would get them to safety? It was a horrid reality, one Deana closed her eyes from, silently hoping she could simply wish it away. But in the darkness behind her eyelids, she could hear the sounds of battle, the terrified, agonized moaning of the wounded men and women of Grassan who surrounded her. There would be no salvation save for a miracle. But Deana had seen some miracles in her life, and she would not give up just yet.
“Listen to me,” she shouted over the murmurs of hysteria that were spreading amongst her staff. They looked at her, this frail, young woman bound to a chair. Deana puffed up her chest with a long, slow intake of breath. “I know it seems bleak, but we still have a job to do! If these demons break through, we’re all dead. Every man, woman, and child within the city limits is dead. We will be no more dead in here than we would be if we tried to flee this place. Now, these people that lie in here with us, they’ve put their lives on the line for you. For your friends. For your families. I’m not abandoning them now! I’m not rewarding their bravery with cowardice!” She wheeled over to
another patient. The woman lay with two broken legs and a fractured arm. Deana laid her hands upon the woman’s kneecaps and set to work, her magic knitting together the shattered bone. She continued to speak through her concentration.
“We have some pretty amazing people fighting on our side who I’ve seen overcome insurmountable odds.” The woman’s legs straightened, and Deana rocked in her chair, gritting her teeth to remain upright as she removed her hands. “Until I’m in the ground, I’m never going to stop believing that they will do something to win the day.” As the weight of her words settled around the clinic, a shrill scream and an inhuman growl erupted.
Four Skirlack hounds bounded into the room. The staff panicked and ran, the moving nature of Deana’s speech meaning nothing when faced with actual death. Deana backed her chair away as one of the creatures eyed her hungrily. As its three packmates tackled fleeing members of her staff to the ground, the beast reared back and leapt at her.
She winced and threw up her arms, a scream catching in her throat. But just as the creature’s murderous claws were about to dig into her flesh, a white glare of light spread through the entire room, kicking up powerful wind as it moved. It swept over the patients and workers of the clinic, and it washed over Deana with no more effect than a warming, tingling glow of euphoric optimism. But when it met the red skin of the Skirlack hounds, the demons were turned to ash and blew away in the breeze.
Finally, she dared to breathe again. What was that? And why did she have a sinking suspicion the battle had just been won?
The king’s light fell over the Skirlack like a tidal wave. Void of the magical defenses of the clerics, these soldiers and animals evaporated in a superheated slash of power. Matias flew down alleys and over buildings. He surrounded the main battlements, which the demons had been moving on, where the girl, Deana, worked in earnest to heal his wounded soldiers. He bathed his city in the light of his love, an attachment formed over decades of rule. And everywhere he touched, in every blackened corner of his homeland, the Skirlack died.
Matias gave one last triumphant scream of battle-hardened fury. His light burned radiantly, thrashing and crashing through the flesh of his enemies. And then, suddenly, he was no more.
XX: Seduction
Sunlight warmed Seraphina’s skin. The scent of flowers wafted through the air of Kackritta Castle’s gardens. It had always been a favorite spot of hers to walk through in moments of strife to find the inner peace that only the beauty of nature could inspire. Looking to her side, she saw Kayden was still there beside her, but his expression had shifted.
Gone was the annoyed “above it all” gaze of irritation and rage he had worn throughout the duration of their internal journey. Instead, Kayden’s stoic grimace seemed to soften as though a part of his heart were at peace.
“This is a special place for you, isn’t it?” Seraphina asked the black-clad warrior at her side. Kayden quickly looked away, stomping off and stopping by a bed of orange and yellow flowers. “You know I can sense your emotions in this place. I mean, this entire realm is composed of your thoughts. There’s no use lying to me here, Kayden.”
“Yes. I liked it here, okay?” The black dragon’s words snapped as though Seraphina had intruded on a personal, private moment.
“Liked?”
“It doesn’t exist anymore.”
Seraphina knew, of course, that he was right. The gardens had been incinerated along with every other important location she had grown around when Kackritta was violently transformed into Aleksandrya.
“I suppose you’re right.” She did not follow up on that thought. Instead, she just watched Kayden as he looked solemnly around the once beautiful locale. He ran his gloved fingers along a grouping of tall, blue flowers and inhaled deeply of the rich aroma that filled the Dreamscape. Seraphina knew that things such as touch or taste or smell had no real meaning here and that everything they were experiencing had been born of Kayden’s thoughts and emotions.
The Dreamscape version of the garden had a far stronger, sweeter smell than the real one ever had. She believed this might have been a result of Kayden’s romanticized memories of one of the only places in Kackritta of which he actually had pleasant memories.
“No one was ever here,” Kayden said softly. “Or at least not usually. The other kids…I never got along with them. Sometimes it was easier to just be alone.”
As the black-clad former animus warrior said this, Seraphina noticed a large boy stride into the garden, a brown, bound book clutched to his chest. The aquamarine eyes and meticulously combed ebony hair instantly registered in Seraphina’s memory—Kayden, as he was the day of the attack that nearly claimed her life, just thirteen years old. The adult version of Kayden stood at silent attention, watching his younger self move quickly through the flower fields, settling at the base of a large tree that rested against the garden’s stone wall.
“You liked to read,” Seraphina remarked. “I forgot about that.”
“It’s not as if you ever noticed anything,” Kayden snapped back at her. His eyes still never left that of his prepubescent reflection. “You and Valentean were always off somewhere, mindlessly flitting about together. But the books I read…they always had time for me. The fantastical histories of Terra, the stories of the Great Rosinanti War, and the fictitious worlds of adventure and fantasy. Engrossing myself in them…it made me feel as if I wasn’t alone anymore.”
For the first time since Lazman, Seraphina’s heart went out to Kayden in a moment of compassion. She studied the young boy as he settled into the shade, cracking his book open and beginning to turn through the pages. On his face, he wore no expression. His eyes were perfect nothingness as they began to scan the pages, and then, once Kayden’s mind became engrossed in whatever subject he was reading about, she saw an adventurous fire overtake his blank stare.
She felt a pang of guilt, knowing that likely somewhere on the palace grounds, she was off with Valentean, laughing and playing while Kayden sat here completely alone. She had always believed as a child that Kayden simply had no interest in whatever she and Val might have been doing. Now, within the confines of the Dreamscape, she could feel his sadness and loneliness. The air was heavy with it. Seraphina’s eyes misted, but she held the tears back with a shuddering intake of breath.
“Oh, I am so sorry. I had not realized anyone else was out here,” came the sound of an all too familiar voice. The adult Kayden stiffened as if struck, and the boy looked up from his book, shaken from whatever literary world he had been lost in, to look up at the sixteen-year-old Princess Aleksandra. Seraphina felt cooling dread spread in her stomach as the fierce eyes of her older sister took in the form of the lonely boy. Kayden, startled at the presence of royalty, leapt to his feet, tossing his book to the ground.
“Princess Aleksandra,” he exclaimed in apologetic alarm. “I’m so sorry. I did not realize you would be here. I can go.” He moved to retrieve the book in a hurried manner, but Aleksandra stopped him by holding up one delicate hand.
“No,” she said softly, gently. “Please stay, Kayden. I would do well with some company.”
Kayden blinked hard in surprise. “Y…you want….me to stay?”
Seraphina’s heart broke all over again at the desperate longing to believe she could sense in the boy’s voice. All around her, the air of the Dreamscape practically sang with nervous anticipation.
“Yes, of course. Solitude is so tiresome at times, and I often find myself feeling like a stranger to all those who share my home.” Seraphina could sense Kayden’s heart as it leapt in his chest. She could feel how he resonated with the statement, likening the princess’s confessed loneliness to his own. Aleksandra moved toward him with practiced grace, smiling at the tall, stocky boy, showcasing perfectly straight, white teeth. She lowered herself slowly to sit beneath the tree that Kayden had occupied just a moment earlier. She patted the ground beside her.
“Please, join me.”
Kayden seemed to forget himself
momentarily before nodding in agreement and moving toward her. “It would be an honor, Princess.” He lowered himself beside her, retrieving his book and clutching it to his chest.
“What is that you have there?” Aleksandra asked the boy.
Kayden seemed to suddenly remember that he held something in his arms and loosened his hold on the weathered tome. “Oh, well, this is just an old book that I enjoy.”
“What book?”
He turned a deep scarlet and looked away, embarrassed. “It’s umm…The Chronicles of Azulia. It’s a fiction novel about—”
“The fantasy world of Azulia,” Aleksandra continued for him, and Kayden looked at her in shock. “A fictional land of magic, much the same as ours, but filled with fairies and ogres, giants and elves.”
“You’ve read it?”
“It is one of my favorites.”
“Mine too,” Kayden blurted out, nearly screaming his excited response in the princess’s face. He then looked away once more in embarrassment.
“I’ve often found myself rereading the story of Alnora, The Dark Angel. The sorceress who controlled all of the black magic in the world.”
“Yes…and her apprentice…the prince. Konnor.”
“Indeed. Alnora is tasked with a tremendous burden—a misunderstood magic that no one else in the world can wield. She shoulders a tremendous responsibility, one with which I am…all too familiar.” The princess looked down as though she were overcome with emotion.
“How so?” Kayden shifted so he was looking directly into her watering eyes.
“There is something about me, Kayden. Something that no one knows save my parents and my sister. I’ve kept a deep secret for so many years, shouldering the burden alone.”
Rosinanti_Rise of the Dragon Lord Page 25