by A. Wrighton
Vee moved first, though slowly, too scared to check for Kalyna’s life force. Vee stared after the still waves and pale face. She could not bring herself to check Alaister, either.
An annoyed roar from Fynix startled Vee so deeply that she nearly dropped Alaister’s head. But, she could not do it. She would not check. Vee kept her hands over her mouth and forced her body to breathe as the Beast continued his roars until others startled into awareness. Movement. Drystan rushed to the broken pair and slid his fingers along Kalyna’s neck first. The rhythmic pulse was there – weak – but there.
“She be alive. Vee – take her,” Drystan ordered.
Vee nodded and traded Alaister for Kalyna. She coddled Kalyna and eagerly waited for her to stir. Kalyna was cold but Vee felt the life inside. Drystan knelt beside them with salve-covered bandages and took Kalyna’s hands into his. Her palms and fingers were singed a blackish brown and bloodied. Quickly, Drystan set to binding her hands only pausing to gesture Callon over to Alaister.
“Go’on and check him, Cal. T’is goin’ to take a bit.”
For the first time, Callon had no clever retort. No witty comeback. Callon obeyed the medic’s command and knelt beside his best friend. Shutting his eyes, Callon rested his fingertips against Alaister’s neck. He jerked back. His face was panicked. Relieved.
“Callon?” Vee asked.
“Doc, he’s alive… Doc!”
Drystan looked up stunned. From the scream and collapse after, he had assumed Kalyna had failed – horribly. Drystan scrambled to Alaister’s side and checked. Callon was right. The rhythmic pulsing was there and much stronger than Kalyna’s. Drystan ripped off Alaister’s messed bandage. The open wound was gone, replaced by a pink scar with the curve of a Dragon talon.
“Oh Watcher, I don’ believe it! Praise you, Watcher! And you too, Listener!”
Nylan stared between the two bodies and smiled. “Unbelievable…”
“You can go’on and say t’at again, friend.” Drystan nodded to Callon. “We best be getting Miss Kaly to the Den. She gon’ need help.”
“Understood, Doc.” Callon rose and turned to disperse the riding orders with Lanthar’s help as Drystan and Nylan prepped Alaister for transit.
Beneath Drystan’s hands, Alaister stirred. “Kalyna? Kaly!”
“Woah, easy t’ere Commander. She be fine.”
Nylan steadied Alaister, helping Drystan pull him to his feet. He stood easily. Though shaken and disorientated, he was no worse for wear. Perhaps, the long battle considered, even better.
Alaister searched for Kalyna and found her being hoisted into Syralli’s saddle. He lurched forward to stop Lanthar and Callon from securing her further. “She’ll…me. Ride with me.”
“Jaxin is off with the Creitalli’s Beast, Alaister. He’ll be fine, but for now, you will ride with me,” Nylan said.
Defeated and overcome with physical exhaustion, Alaister did not argue further. He exhaled and nodded.
“I am so glad to have you back t’ere, Commander,” Drystan said as he retreated to Gage’s Beast for his own ride home.
“Me too.”
“Let’s get you home, Commander Paine.”
Alaister nodded and graciously followed Nylan to his Beast. It was the first time he had actually had an opportunity to look at the Lythgorian Beast. From a distance, he looked like a black Rogue Beast, but up close, the differences were staggering and unnerving. There was something inherently dark about Fynix – his eyes ever-shifting, doubting his location. His wing talons itched in the cold winter winds and his coloring was an awesome blend of wicked green and black tints. The only hint of Fynix’s actual rune powers shimmered in an iridescent blue on his scale tips. It was easy to mistake him for an Earth. He was the size of a rideable, male Earth Beast – if such a creature existed – and he enjoyed playing with boulders. But, in aerial combat Fynix limited himself to frost and water making the massive dark Water Beast another Darkling paradox.
“Easy, you,” Nylan whispered in Drakanic.
The Beast cocked his head raggedly to the sky and trumpeted three blasts of sound.
Nylan’s exhale grew to a wide smile. “Our reinforcements have arrived. Better late than never, I guess.” Nylan guided Alaister to find support on the saddle as they both watched an influx of dark Beasts land.
They were mostly smaller than Fynix, though all had a staggering variation of black scales. All had the eerie, dark uneasy eyes that probed their new surroundings. A magnificent Rider dismounted from the forefront of the two Dredths and with a sweep of his black and richly purple cape, topped with an ornate gold Dragon pin, walked towards the pair. Alaister looked to Nylan for a clue, only to find him fighting back an awkward smile.
“Son,” the Dark Rider said.
Nylan smartly saluted and Alaister followed suit with a Rogue salute, despite the soreness movement caused.
“This is Commander Paine, Leader of the Rogue Dragonics. Paine, this is High Commander Niko Bendran of the Lythgorian Dragonics… my father.”
“A pleasure, Commander.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” Alaister suppressed a wince at Niko’s fierce handshake.
“Commander Paine was hit, sir.”
Niko eased his grip and nodded. “Deepest apologies. Where are the rest of your forces? They survived I hope?”
“They’ve gone back to headquarters…” Alaister tracked Niko’s gaze to the dead prisoners. Watching, he waited for any reaction from Niko. None came.
Niko Bendran merely surveyed the destruction and returned to nod at them. “Then we shall follow you there. You are wanted more than ever, no doubt.”
“Aye, sir,” Alaister said. “Thank you for coming.”
“We couldn’t resist my son’s summons.”
Nylan smiled unenthusiastically leaving Alaister wondering exactly what Nylan had told his father. He started to ask, but Niko interrupted with a flourished Lythgorian salute.
“On you, then,” Niko said turning about, his cape whipping his ankles as he sped back to his Beast.
Nylan mounted Fynix and pulled Alaister up behind him. “Hold on, Paine.”
Alaister scoffed. “He’s too big to—”
Fynix took to the air with a gut swallowing, stomach-in-the-throat, rush of speed and power.
Nylan smiled and yelled back, “He’s Lythgorian!”
HIGH COMMANDER’S OFFICE
DRAGONIC BARRACKS, RYXIA,
CAPITOL SQUARE, ALERIA
“Higath?” High Commander Foxun scanned the room. “Where in Udlast is Druff?”
“Dead, sir.”
Foxun stopped his search and blinked. He looked to the thin, mustached lurch of a man sitting at his desk – in his chair.
Senator Raptis did not look up from his writing. “Then report, Dragonic. You’ve interrupted enough as it is, might as well continue on with it.” The slight hiss on his words fit Raptis’ flighty appearance. During his time as a young recruit, Higath had learned Raptis’ name well. Raptis was the Senator at the end of most jokes and, finally seeing the snake of a man firsthand, made Raptis’ presence awkward and twisting. He was terrifying, not funny. There was something odd in his eyes and grating in his smile. His gaze chilled.
“Sorry, your Honor,” Higath said.
“Dead, Commander?” Repeated Foxun, finally finding his voice. “In a skirmish?”
“No, sir. It was a battle – a full-fledged battle. It was bad, sir. We… we lost.”
The shock resounded off Higath’s tongue and stung Foxun’s ears. The Council Dragonics never lost – ever. The Rogues were skirmishers with guerilla tactics that annoyed and stung but never wounded dramatically. They never made way or found progress. Now, they had done both. Foxun’s features darkened with solemnity.
“The rumors of Runics are true, sir. They live and they are powerful. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“No,” Raptis sneered. “You’re a bit young for that now aren’t you?”
“There were two, sir.”
Raptis and Foxun exchanged glances.
“There’s more, sir.”
“Proceed,” Foxun said.
“The Rogues were aided by three Beasts I have never seen the like of before and their Riders; they were like us but not… they were just… off.”
“Describe the Beasts,” Raptis commanded. He ignored Higath’s blank expression of shock and tapped his fingers on the desk. “Anytime, Dragonic.”
“Dark, your Honor. Almost completely black. And, they had wing talons, sir. I have never heard of such Beasts existing, even in my father’s days.”
Foxun frowned. “Anything else, Commander?”
“Aye, sir. Our sea patrols are reporting rumors of mass sea movements on the Fyllian.”
Raptis scoffed. He rose from Foxun’s chair and leaned across the desk, sliding towards Higath. “That is not unusual this time of cycle. Impress me with something useful.”
“The Pyranese acknowledge them but are not claiming them, your Honor. They actually outright that the movements are theirs—”
Raptis slammed his fist on the desk and slunk back into Foxun’s seat.
Higath looked to Foxun who turned away, facing the window. “Dismissed.”
“Sir.”
Higath hesitated stumbling over finishing his explanation or fleeing, as he had been lucky to be commanded.
“Now,” Foxun added.
With a salute and spin, Higath left the Senator and High Commander alone. Outside the office, Higath rested his head against the wall, letting his fast-beating heart slow. He hated the intense burn of illogical guilt.
He had done his job well.
Correctly.
Yet, Foxun still impressed an awe and fear upon him and Raptis was a talon short of terrifying. Between the battle and the politics, Higath was exhausted. He had not meant to linger, but when he heard the words, he could not bring himself to leave. He had dreamt of hearing the words his whole career, his entire life.
“Lukas this is disastrous. Do you know what will happen if they find an alliance – a powerful one?” Senator Raptis asked standing.
“Of course, I know!”
“We gave you this job because you’re the only completely competent and loyal officer left! Now, do your job and fix this! If they have made contact—”
“Queen Maille would never ally her pirates with the Rogues. It isn’t profitable enough.”
“I am not speaking about the damn Pyranese, Lukas. What if it is Darklings?”
“Falser nonsense has never escaped your lips.”
“Just think about it – what if it is?” Raptis paced, periodically pausing to pat his sidearm holster. “This is what we shall do. You must go check on Queen Maille and the state of things in Pyran. I will inform the Chancellor of your little situation and get him to call a House of Blood meeting. We can formulate something that will nip this in the bud – crack down on those damn Rogues so they can’t get any stronger.”
Foxun exhaled, slighted by the blame but accepting it, nonetheless. It was how Raptis played. It is why he was feared and unrivaled. It was how he came to be with power. He was a master crafter of blame and doubt. He was a master manipulator.
“We’re going to need a lot of propaganda posters for this, old friend,” Foxun said.
“Yes, we are indeed.”
THE HALLS
THE DEN, NORTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS
Valerna Dupri.
They had all heard of her. She was one of the original names signed on the Edict of the Order of the Rogue Dragonics. Beyond that, no one really knew much about her. She was more of a warm murmur or a soft dream. She was the Rogues’ Runic. She had helped found the Order and stayed with them until Kai's death. After that, she had disappeared.
After the Collection ended, the Rogues had waited but Valerna never showed. The Rogues assumed that the Council had finally gotten her – that they had claimed one more Rogue. One more of the Resistance.
But there she stood – and Synge was sure of it. She stood before him as she always had stood: proud, hands on her hips, and black raven hair flowing down her shoulders. She even had the same feathers woven into her hair that flapped against her cheek with each breath. She had aged a little, even more so than the death of her friends had aged her. Valerna was older. Wiser. And, just as beautiful.
Synge blinked and the visage remained – it waved and smiled the familiar smile.
“Synge! Syn!”
Synge recognized her voice. He would recognize it anywhere.
“Watcher and Listener be praised! You’re Vee?”
“My mother’s pet nickname, Old Man. You couldn’t have forgotten me that easily, could you?” Vee laughed, careless towards any answer.
Synge beamed. “Forget Valerna Dupri – the Dragonics’ Runic. Kai Paine’s left hand? Never. I had a hope you still lived, Vee…Valerna.” Synge exhaled sharply and squeezed her arm with a warming might.
Vee embraced the ancient man before her. He was fragile under her arms. It had been longer than she thought. She shook off the abnormality of it and smiled widely.
“It is good to have you back,” Synge said.
“It's good to be back, I suppose… but, please. I am not who I once was. I am, wholeheartedly, Vee. I do not know myself when you call me Valerna. She died long ago in this place. A place I swore I’d never come back to, let alone be welcomed back to, so long as—”
“Torai left after Alaister Bonded – tail between her damn legs.”
“Right now, I cannot say that I blame her. I do not even know if I can be here. I’d rather be anywhere but here, Old Man.”
“Sometimes the best places and the worst places are one in the same. Sometimes memories live and die together. You belong here, don't ever forget that.” Synge paused, hugging her again. “Valerna wel—”
“Vee. Just Vee.” She paused and with an aged face, dragged a smile to her lips. “Please, not another mention of—”
Synge nodded and interrupted Vee’s rambling explanation with another hug. “Welcome home, Vee.”
Home. The word hit hard.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Home.” Vee stared into the ground until she felt a frail nudge. Vee looked up to find Synge gesturing towards the hallway, as he patted his stomach eagerly. She smiled as if over twenty cycles had not passed. Lunchtime. Side by side, they walked down the hallway they had helped forge.
“How’s Kalyna?” Vee asked.
“Well. Learning faster with each day and strangely growing more accustomed to our lifestyle.”
Vee laughed. “Sounds familiar…”
“Yes, but the Dragons… they actually like her.”
“At least that makes one of us,” Vee smirked. “They sense the Soul Rune in her.”
“Did you know?”
Vee’s grin twisted into a frown as she shook her head. “Definitively, no. But, an inkling? Yes.”
“Mmmm….” Synge stopped and met the teal eyes. “She’s…. powerful, Vee. Intensely so.”
“Prophetically so.”
“Dangerously so. If she ever—”
“You don’t know her heart like I do, Synge. She would sooner die than betr—” Vee’s lips froze at the sight of him in his uniform. Her mind tripped.
Impossible.
Kai was dead. She had buried him – carried his body.
But, now he stood in front of her – stayed from the cold grip of death, full of life and vigor. His face had a warmer complexion than usual. The trademarked quirked grin of the Paine line was plastered on his face. He wore his old dress cloak – the cloak that only Vee knew the source of the out-of-place orange thread on the maroon panel. Vee’s hunger vacated.
“Synge.” Alaister beamed before turning and politely smiling at the strange woman beside Synge. Alaister knew he recognized her as the woman from the cliffs though, he could have sworn that it was Vee who had spoken comforting wor
ds there. Yet, this woman looked no older than his mother did. Vee should have been older. Grayer. “Vee?” Alaister asked shakily.
Synge’s laughter overtook the hallway.
“Vee had a bit of Runes up to keep out of sight, Alaister. This is what she actually looks like.”
Alaister stared blankly for a moment longer. “Vee?”
She nodded.
Smartly, Alaister snapped to attention and raised his arm perpendicular to the floor to salute her, though her younger appearance of forty cycles unsettled. Her blush intensified and both smiled. “It is an honor to see you again and to have you with us. If you need anything, please, let me know.”
“Of course.”
“And, thank you… for earlier.”
Vee smiled with a short nod.
“Until later. Wind with you, Syn, and Watcher keep you, Vee.”
“And you,” Vee said. She watched him go in the silence Synge granted her. When he was no longer in sight, Vee finally spoke. “He looks so much like him….”
Synge exhaled and gently nudged her elbow as he squeezed her shoulder. “Come old friend – we have much to discuss and not enough time to plan.” He paused, wistfully with a small smile to his lips. “You know they remind me of you and Kai in some ways.”
“For their sakes, I hope not.”
“Times are different. They can be—”
“No. Not really. Not yet, at least.”
“Soon,” Synge said as he stopped outside the archways into the Great Hall. “After you,” he said, pulling back the curtain with his cane.
Vee’s lips pulled into a fond smile then grew to a laugh. “My… how nothing has changed much.”
KALYNA’S QUARTERS
THE DEN, NORTHERN SOLERAN MOUNTAINS
“Kaly…”
Alaister sat on the edge of the pads and watched her sleep. The color had restored to her pale face as much as it ever could. Thankfully, Drystan had said her fever had broken quickly. Too much Dragon’s blood was known to turn normal people insane, but its effects on a Runic – a Soul Runic – was beyond knowledge and studies. It was an unknown Alaister was glad he did not have to face.