Dragons of Destiny

by Jeffrey Waddilove

  “How dare you!” the Korii royal spat venomously.

  “I asked who in the hells you were, and I expect an answer. If you don’t provide me your name and a sufficient explanation as to why you are sitting uninvited on my bed by the time I count to ten, I am going to open your throat and worry about the repercussions afterwards. One, two…”

  “Fine! Have it your way,” the man hissed. “I am Gretidor Sollis. The Gretidor Sollis, true heir of Calrisan. All of Calrisan, mind you. Now, lower your sword… Now, damn it!”

  Arius shook his head. Instead, he pressed a tad harder. He knew this pompous asshole was telling the truth. He had read numerous and detailed intelligence reports on the Korii royal family, but because he was less than thrilled at the invasion of privacy, he was content to let the prince sweat it out for the moment.

  “Sorry, but I don’t think that you’re currently in a position to dictate to me, your majesty. Why exactly have I been graced with your presence, anyhow?”

  “You certainly have earned your reputation, haven‘t you? Very well. My father, he sent me as a liaison. You have officially been summoned to stand before Regius Sollis Trueborn. You are to come with me at once,” Gretidor said, practically oozing with indignation.

  Arius kept his sword unsheathed, but he removed the point from the prince’s jugular and slowly backed into a lounge chair across from the bed. Gretidor pulled out a golden laced handkerchief and dabbed at the blood and gouge the sword had left. His face was flushed, and if looks could kill, Arius would have dropped dead on the spot.

  “Why didn’t your father send word via courier? Why would he send his only son and heir into the realm of his archenemy?”

  “Because I was simply dying to meet you, you great louse. The fabled Arius Jadestar in the flesh, as it were. Or rather Arius Kinless. Or do you prefer Bastard Prince? Which is it that you go by these days?” Gretidor said mockingly.

  “Kinless. I’ve abandoned my surname.” He said distractedly. “Just what in the hells is so important that you have had to sneak into my suite like some common assassin and spirit me away this very moment? Couldn’t we set up a meeting in a more official capacity? I‘m exhausted, and I‘d very much like to rest before I have to meet with anyone. And that includes your father.“

  Gretidor shook his head regally and crossed his legs so a high heeled boot dangled while he spoke.

  “As for your first question, I haven’t the slightest idea why my father has sent for you. Your second question is far easier to answer, though. My father wants to avoid the pomp and circumstance that would be caused by a public meeting between the two of you. There would also be endless speculation on the part of both factions. More importantly, you will come because he commanded it. Here, your station within the Gaelarian Alliance has no meaning. You are our guest and will abide by our laws. You know very well that if you refuse a summons whilst in the city by either king, your life is forfeit.”

  Arius knew the truth of Gretidor’s statement, so he nodded in resignation.

  “I won’t deny your father his audience. I’m more than happy to accommodate him. However, if we’re to leave this instant, I’ll need a way over Korii’s Wall. I can’t imagine your father is willing to allow a dragon into his no-fly zone, regardless of the haste in which he requires my presence.”

  Gretidor waved away the notion like it was an annoying insect.

  “Transportation to and from northern Calrisan has been arranged. Your carriage awaits, Kinless.”

  With that, the Korii prince stood and swayed to the open window. Without even a backwards glance, he leapt out, spreading his wings and flying up towards the roof. Arius sheathed his blade, went to the window, and reluctantly climbed out after him.

  “Egotistical bastard. What a shitty week. First, I had to sleep in the fucking snow and now this? Wrong king, but a summons is a summons, I suppose,” he muttered to himself grouchily.

  The roof was only a few feet above him, so he used the storm drain to hoist himself up onto the inn’s gable. Gretidor was true to his word: a carriage of sorts was waiting for him. Four white winged Maji servants gripped long handholds that were fastened to it. It looked more like a trunk with windows than a carriage, but Arius didn’t remark on the accommodations as he entered and took a seat across from Gretidor.

  The carriage lurched slightly as the four Maji outside wasted little time getting them airborne. Just as Arius was about to ask Gretidor how he managed to fly in and out of southern Calrisan undetected by the Talon Watch, Arius watched from the window as the servants’ white wings turned to black.

  “That’s a convenient trick,” Arius said, nodding out the window.

  Gretidor leaned forward to look at what Arius had noticed and smiled while he leaned back. He studied Arius with an autocratic look and nodded to himself as if he had come to some unspoken conclusion. Gretidor pressed a button on the wall next to him, and a small table slid out of a compartment between them. He pressed another, and a rack holding several bottles of wine and glasses lowered from the ceiling onto the table top.

  “Despite your savage first impression, I think I may grow to like you after all, Kinless. Don’t worry yourself too badly over our ability to Shift. The Raachon can do it as well. It was discovered back during our civil war, and it’s merely our little way of keeping tabs on one another. You’re just now seeing it because we’re a very tight-lipped society, are we not? We purposefully showed you Shifting as an act of good faith on our part. My father and I think you will be extraordinarily useful to us and, of course, we to you. In the meantime, I have an important question I need to ask of you…”

  “And what query would you ask of me, Sollis?” Arius raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued.

  “Which varietals might I tempt you with?” Gretidor pulled forth a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  “Oh, I supposed an Axion Blue, or a Sparkling Amber from Jaren Mar wouldn’t be amiss right now,” Arius replied, laughing good naturedly despite his animosity earlier.

  The flight should have taken only minutes, but it appeared Gretidor was insisting on a full tour. The journey took the better part of an hour, and by then the two men had consumed three bottles of exquisite wine. At first they drank to fill the awkward silence that permeated the cabin. The atmosphere inside the carriage had started out icy and distant with Arius feeling a sense of trepidation at the upcoming meeting. As each glass was emptied, a camaraderie often inspired in men who have had too much to drink began to develop between Arius and Gretidor. Before long, they were joking and sharing stories.

  Arius had never been to northern Calrisan before, so once over the wall he found himself studying the architecture.

  “It looks exactly the same.”

  “Well, of course it does. Remember that before Korii’s Wall went up, Calrisan was one epic city,” Gretidor said as he giggled into his glass.

  “I know it shouldn’t surprise me, but I guess the angst that exists between your two factions makes it seem like you aren’t related at all. I feel as though we’ve flown into uncharted alien territory.”

  Gretidor sipped his wine before replying. “I can see why an outsider would think that way. For us, it’s just the way things are. The separate way we live is as natural to us as our wings or the clouds in the sky. Perhaps I shouldn’t be divulging this information to you, but oh, who cares! I can always tell my father that you got me drunk and used clever subterfuge to coerce the information out of me.”

  Even though they were alone in the carriage, Gretidor lowered his voice in a conspiratorial air.

  “Change is coming, Kinless. Like all change, it’s inevitable. The reason my father summoned you is because he needs you to convince Aequin to meet with us. My father intends to unite Calrisan!”

  “But why would your father call upon me to arrange something so momentous?” Arius blurted, his eyes growing wide.

  Gretidor downed the remnants of his glass, wiping his mouth on a sleeve and directing an e
xasperated look Arius’ way.

  “Apparently you’re the prophesized Champion of Light. Our civilization basically divided itself on your behalf, Kinless! Who better to bring the Maji as a united people into the war that will ultimately decide the fate of the known world than you?”

  “Whatever you do, don’t mention that insufferable prophecy while I‘m in this state. I do my very best to deny its existence on a daily basis,” Arius said, groaning as the bile rose in his throat.

  They touched down a few minutes later in a high walled courtyard at Korii‘s Palace. Between the wine and Gretidor’s admonition, Arius was slightly dazed as they exited the carriage. He barely registered the courtyard’s lavish green covered with its aesthetic fountains and statues. The palace doors opened, and for the second time that day Arius was surrounded by armed Maji. This time it was the Korii’s version of the Talon Watch. The Trueborn were notoriously fierce fighters and guardians. Their bronze and jade scaled armor had the Sollis sunburst displayed on their breastplates, and it made the Talon Watchmen’s detailed armor seem bland in comparison. The entire guard had their golden wings displayed, and he fought the impulse to reach for his sword. Arius looked to Gretidor, wondering if he was about to be taken into custody.

  “Stand down. This man is an invited guest and will be handled with care,” Gretidor declared.

  The lead Trueborn stepped forward and dropped to a knee. He bowed his head and folded his wings; the other guards followed suit. Gretidor seemed to cherish being bowed to, and he let the Trueborn kneel for a few minutes before bidding them to rise.

  “On your feet, Captain Kutala. You can worship me later.” Gretidor gave the captain a smoky look before turning his attention to the palace.

  He smiled wickedly at the newest arrivals as they poured into the courtyard. From behind the Trueborn, Arius watched as several scantily clad men with white wings holding trays of refreshments joined them. As the guards situated themselves around Gretidor and Arius, the servants all bustled forward eagerly, offering more wine, cheese, and an assortment of pastries.

  Gretidor held out his hands for the servants, who wiped them clean and toweled them dry. He beckoned for a servant to do the same for Arius, who politely declined. Instead Arius concentrated on not laughing at how frivolous Gretidor’s lifestyle was.

  To each their own, he thought

  Another servant handed Gretidor and Arius an overflowing goblet of wine, and Gretidor wrapped his arm in Arius’ and led him into the entrance of the palace.

  “Drink up, Kinless. We’ll be meeting with my father shortly. He’s very impatient to finally have the chance to sit and talk with you.”

  Arius took a healthy gulp of the blood red varietal and felt his head growing heavier. All at once the world began to dim and his hearing became muted. He looked at Gretidor who smiled encouragingly as they walked along the pristine halls of the palace. Gretidor’s face began to stretch and the tapestries and paintings along the walls began to shimmer and sway in a pleasant sort of way.

  Arius heard someone laughing hysterically. He glanced about trying to see who it was before realizing it was him. All of a sudden, the room was spinning out of control, and he attempted to hold onto Gretidor to keep from being swept away into the whirlpool that had just replaced his equilibrium. The laughter was growing fainter, and Arius was wondering just what was so funny before he finally succumbed to the drug that had been in his wine.

  “You actually drugged him?” said a frantic and unfamiliar voice.

  Arius had regained consciousness, but for some reason he was having the most difficult time opening his eyes. It was very much like trying to draw oneself out of a bout of sleep paralysis. He strained and strained before finally opening them with great effort. He squinted but couldn’t make out the two silhouetted figures who had their backs to him. All he knew was that he was laid out on a sofa somewhere.

  He closed his eyes again and tried to remember what had happened, but thinking made his head throb terribly. After a moment something came to him. It was vague, like recalling a dream he might have had once long ago. He seemed to remember a Korii meeting him in his suite at the Emperor’s Gail.

  But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it?

  “You commanded me to, remember father? Frankly I thought that was an ill-advised order from the outset.”

  Arius recognized Gretidor’s fair voice, and everything came back to him in a rush. The Emperor’s Gail, the carriage ride and all the wine. For the moment, he decided it best to lay back and keep his eyes shut and listen while he collected himself. His sword was laid across his chest and he wasn’t manacled, so at least he had that going for him.

  “I implied that you should drug him only if he was unwilling to come with you, you fucking inept fool! If you ruin this for me, Gretidor, I swear on your mother’s eternal soul that I’ll have you giving blowjobs in Mayora’s slums for silver pennies before the day is over!”

  “Oh, father, don’t be ridiculous. You know very well that I would do that for free.”

  Gretidor’s feminine giggle was cut short by a series of loud and brutal slaps. A resounding crash, followed by racking sobs told Arius that Gretidor was unable to stand up to his father’s abusive onslaught.

  “You will not speak that way to me, you little faggot! To say my patience with you is waning is the understatement of the millennia!” Regius roared at his son. “Since you are my lone heir, I’ve been forced to live with the fact that you’re a prissy little cocksucker, but that will not be the case for long. If I have my way, I soon will be in negotiations with Aequin to marry Karena Alunna, uniting the bloodlines. She will provide me a strong heir. One who is actually capable of carrying on our legacy instead of dropping to his knees to please my guards.

  “Now, get to your feet and go see if he has a pulse,” he commanded. “The last thing I need is the Circle of Seven finding out that their First Knight has come up missing anywhere within Calrisan.”

  Arius had heard enough. He sat up and opened his eyes, and an opulent bed chamber came into focus. He witnessed Regius standing over his son with his sublime wings displayed like the rising sun. In his rage, he hadn’t noticed as Arius gripped his scabbard and rose to his feet.

  Arius struck out with his Elemantic powers. He drew all the air in the room to him, and once he had collected every wisp, he focused it into one powerful blast and propelled it at the unsuspecting king with the force of a cyclone. The Elemantic air roared like thunder as it smashed Regius and rocketed him into a nearby wall with a booming crash. The king ricocheted off and lay in a twitching heap. Arius cringed at the raucous noise he had just made. The Trueborn would soon be here. He had mere minutes to get some answers out of Gretidor before he was taken into custody.

  “Oh, no! Oh, no! What have you done to my father, Kinless?” Gretidor wailed at Arius.

  “Since it appears that I’ve been poisoned and kidnapped by the two of you, I think I’m going to be the one asking the Jenukai’s damned questions here,” Arius said in a dry but firm tone.

  He went and helped the battered prince to his feet. Gretidor’s perfect hair was a mess, and both of his eyes were blackened. As he gripped his hand, he could feel that the prince was shaking badly. Arius hoisted him to his unsteady feet and helped him into a nearby reading chair.

  “Your father was making a valid point before he accosted you. Was it really necessary to have me drugged? I did come with you of my own accord after all.”

  Gretidor wiped his tear-stained face and tried to brush his hair with his hands without much success.

  “I apologize, Kinless, I really do. Unfortunately, you were nothing more than a casualty in the ongoing pissing contest that my father and I wage upon each other on a daily basis. I knew it would enrage him if I drugged you despite his orders for me to call it off if you came on your own, so that’s exactly what I did. I fully intended to make it up to you, of course.”

  Arius laughed despite the predicament he was in. “Of
course you will. You can start by helping me drag your father onto this couch you had me laid out on. We must hurry. The Trueborn will be here any second.”

  As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Captain Kutala opened the door and peeked into the room. He took one look at the unconscious King, and his eyes bulged to the point where they might rupture out of their sockets. He burst into the chamber and slammed the door shut behind him, pressing his back against it as if to barricade it.

  He looked to Arius and then to Gretidor with a wild expression on his face. “What can I do to help, your majesty?”

  “Well, if Kinless here hasn’t already, we may have to kill my father.”

  Chapter 8

  The lengthy hallway leading to the throne room was packed with bloodied guards making their final stand. Their haggard breathing and disheveled appearances spoke to how hard they had fought to defend their city. They were all willing to die for their king and for Tryss; they had proven that beyond a doubt.

  Admirable, thought Dregan, but futile nonetheless. Every guard in the hall had their weapons leveled in his direction. To their credit, he didn’t see one frightened face in their midst. He saw only grim acceptance of their fate.

  Dregan was literally covered from head to toe with the gore of their fellow comrades. The fighting to take the city had started at dawn, and night had fallen hours ago, but that meant nothing to Dregan. He had long since lost track of the time and the amount of men he had slaughtered.

  Saevo, one of his more deplorable Blood Priests, sidled up from behind him and whispered into his ear. He had almost forgotten that his generals and Priests were with him.

  “Shall I annihilate them with an Eternaflame potion, my lord? I brought one vial of it for an occasion such as this. If I toss it into that hallway, every guard standing in our way will be cremated instantaneously,” the man wheezed.

  Dregan shook his head in a distracted sort of way. In a voice just above a whisper, he spoke more to himself than to the Blood Priest.