Defiance: Dragonics & Runics Part I

by A. Wrighton

  “The honor is mine,” Synge said.

  “And, it is an honor to meet you Lady Vee, circumstances aside.”

  “And you, High Commander Bendran.”

  He nodded and turned his gaze to the Tryns. “My Graces.”

  The pair nodded, exchanging saccharine smiles.

  “Commander, your scouts did well with the mapping,” Lady Tryn said. “Well, indeed.”

  “Thank you, my Lady.”

  “Please see to it that you link up with the Rogues and their maps before your return,” Lord Tryn added.

  “A pleasure, my Lord.”

  The bustling of voices and the tromping of boots approached. Nylan had stolen a moment to warn the Rogue Officers of the formality of the situation and thankfully, they had quickly seen to wearing their finest gear and unit colors. When they entered, there was no doubt left to the romanticism behind how Rogue Dragonics were mythic legends. They were handsome, dangerous, and decorated. Each officer represented something good left in Solera that they deeply wished their Realm could rediscover in themselves.

  Callon saluted the Bendrans and then the High Runics; his Dredth-colored black and orange trimmed cloak cascaded over his arms with each gesture. Beneath his black leather vest and pants shone the bright orange and deep blue colors of the McKafrey crest. In a backwards glance, Lady Tryn realized it was Callon’s chair she sat in, as it was clearly marked with a crest of the same colors. Lady Tryn smiled kindly and thanked Callon for his seat.

  “Of course, Lady Tryn. It is no discomfort to have such a woman rest there.” Callon bowed deeply, exposing the tips of his twin rapiers.

  Lord Tryn smiled at their appearance. “From Caldenon, I presume? We have heard of their swordsmanship.”

  “Proudly, Lord Tryn.”

  “We shall have to have you come spar with our champion swordsman sometime, Commander McKafrey.”

  Callon nodded and bowed again with a deep smile. “It will be my unfortunate honor to have to disarm them before our fight has but begun,” Callon said before sitting nearest Synge.

  Nylan hid a laugh with a cough into his cloak that was overlooked once Lanthar appeared. Lanthar entered, exquisitely kempt in his crest colors - a deep green and a soft yellowish orange – that harmonized with his Dredth’s cloak of rust orange and burgundy. Lanthar bowed astutely and saluted both Bendrans. The High Runics smiled warmly at his acute awareness of formality and class.

  “Lord and Lady Tryn,” said Nylan, “this is the Third Commander, Lanthar Reynat of Aleria.”

  “A pleasure,” said Lord Tryn.

  Lady Tryn nodded in agreeance. “Any word on the whereabouts of your Commander and the Runic?” she asked, preferring Lanthar to Callon or any other.

  “Kaly—Kalyna?” Callon asked.

  Lord Tryn’s eyes narrowed as he nodded. He tapped his fingers against his Dragon bone chain and stared blankly at Callon, waiting for recognition of misconduct and disorder. But, Callon did not notice the cold stare or he did not care to notice. Callon sat still, unflinching.

  “They’ll be here shortly,” Lanthar said. “Vee sent an eagle to alert them.”

  “You know of the summoning rite?” Lady Tryn clapped eagerly.

  “Yes, I do,” Vee said.

  “I am most interested in what type of figment Solerans summon. We summon the Night Falcons that are almost extinct on Lythgor – rather pretty and frightening creatures, the little dears.”

  “I am afraid my figment is nothing special – just an ordinary Fyllian Moon Eagle.” Vee caught the expectant glance from Synge and forced a compliant smile. “Kalyna’s on the other hand—”

  Nylan shook his head profusely until Lord Tryn turned at the noise Nylan’s sidearm and scabbard made in protest to his movements. Nylan froze, smiling and staring straight ahead as if nothing had transpired. But, Vee noticed his hesitation.

  “You were saying?” Lady Tryn asked.

  Vee smiled oozingly at Lady Tryn. “Kalyna’s you shall have to see for yourself. I would not dare describe it and do you the injustice—”

  Arwen’s screech pierced the tunnels as Vee spoke and a steep inhale later, the Sun Eagle flitted into the room and landed gracefully on the table, despite its size. Looking rather well fed, Arwen was now full grown and the size of a fat, kitchen cat. Her beady, shifting eyes looked around the table’s occupants. Unamused, she took to preening her gold and iridescent pearl-colored feathers.

  “That is a… These birds are extinct. At least from our Realm,” Niko said slowly.

  “Ours as well, High Commander Bendran,” Synge said.

  “A figment?”

  “No, Lady Tryn.” Nylan knelt beside the High Runic and spoke delicately. “I tried to relay the information, but we intercepted the Council Dragonics as they tried to execute Vee and the bird came back to fight.”

  “Figments don’t fight, young Bendran,” Lord Tryn’s teeth ground, his Dragon bone charms clashing noisily in his grasp.

  Callon and Lanthar collectively winced and exchanged a telling glance over Nylan’s demeaning title. They both turned to Nylan, unsure of what to say or how.

  “No, my Lord, they do not. But this creature is not a figment. This…” Nylan gestured to the golden bird, who cocked her head in recognition. “…is Arwen.”

  Lady Tryn extended her hand to the bird. Arwen’s gold eyes shifted before slowly sidestepping up Lady Tryn’s arm. The giant bird crept halfway up her forearm and perched, watching. Waiting.

  “My Dearest, she is quite real.”

  “What?” Lord Tryn stammered.

  “The Sun Eagle, my Love.” Lady Tryn’s crimson lips stretched into a thin smile. “Arwen is real.”

  “Then—”

  Niko’s grip whitened on his chair arms. He snapped his head to face his son. “Bendran! Why didn’t you tell us this information sooner? Your exact orders were—”

  “To protect the Runic and then report back. In the midst of protecting her, the eagle broke off its course, relaying that Kalyna is a Soul Runic. I did not have the opportunity nor did I see the sense in abandoning my primary objective for the secondary. I am well aware of your orders, sir.”

  Lady Tryn tsked Niko and silenced him with a scolding tap to his hand. “Let him be, Commander,” she said as she returned to petting the eagle’s stretched wing. The bird crooned and preened under her touch. “She’s magnificent.”

  “Thank you…” Kalyna spoke as she entered and well before she realized exactly whom she addressed. Her pale face drained. Kalyna bowed deeply and struggled to straighten her unkempt waves with her fingers. “Thank you, Lady Tryn. Greetings, Lord Tryn, High Commander Bendran, Nylan.” She bowed again and smiled, reaching behind for the forearm she knew would be there.

  Alaister steadied Kalyna with a gentle pat before saluting the High Runics and Lythgorian Commanders accordingly. Their eyes met in mutual reverence and an uneasy trust. “I apologize for our tardiness. We had a meeting with King Lynde of Creitall.”

  “That is quite all right, High Commander Paine,” Lord Tryn said. “Please, have a seat. Let us talk at length.”

  Alaister smiled but declined the extended chair. “It’s been a long ride Lord Tryn.”

  “What’s the verdict, Al—Commander?” Callon asked.

  “No – as expected. Still too much lies at stake for those who ally with us in defiance of the Council. But, our kinship remains, though stifled, and now buried. They did, however, imply that the Queen of Pyran might be more open to assist us, as things stand.”

  “She is a kind but sparse soul,” Lord Tryn muttered amongst his charms clinking, echoing his waning patience for information.

  “Pardon my ignorance Lord Tryn, but you know Queen Maille?” Synge asked.

  “For generations, our people and hers have had a sort of… arrangement,” Lord Tryn said.

  Synge blinked, nodding his astonishment away.

  “I think,” Alaister continued, “that if we go to Queen Maille and pre
sent Kalyna as The One, then she will side with us – if not completely openly, then at least with something – some sort of commitment. Perhaps, even a presence on the seas.”

  Kalyna winced as Alaister rambled off his theories and plans. He still did not understand. Kalyna found Nylan staring at her. He nodded towards Alaister, mouthing what she knew she could not bear to answer. She had yet to find the right moment to tell Alaister. To explain to him. To make him see what stood flagrantly before him.

  Swallowing, Kalyna reached out to stop Alaister’s pacing. “Alaister…”

  Alaister waved off Kalyna with a warm smile and gesture of his free hand.

  The Dragons’ bellows echoed throughout the Den and drowned out Kalyna’s late coming plea. Alaister stopped, smiling at the High Runics with a charm deep within his blood. “I am aware we have only just met and begun to speak, but it is, in fact, dinner time and we Dragonics must tend to our Beasts. Lord and Lady Tryn, if we may—”

  “We completely understand,” Lord Tryn answered.

  “We will return to discuss after dinner, then?” Lady Tryn asked

  “With haste,” Alaister bowed.

  The room stood as one, the High Runics and High Commander left to follow Nylan’s eager wake, under the careful guidance of Vee and Synge. When only his officers and Kalyna remained, Alaister slammed his father’s logbook down and drove a stout kick into Kai’s chair. The wood groaned.

  “Alaister, please. These things will take time,” Kalyna pleaded. “The people were forced into this – we must give them time to come around.”

  “We are running out of time. We have to move now! But with what? You saw the strength of one properly fed and kept Dredth. We are not nearly in as solid a state as they are, and they have over a half dozen primed Dredths at their disposal!”

  “That is true,” Callon said. “But, we’re stronger and smarter and faster – far better looking, too.”

  “And,” Lanthar added, “we have a purpose.”

  “We have foreign dignitaries breathing down our neck that we somehow have to impress upon that ours is a Cause worth helping. I was expecting the Lythgorian Dragonic High Commander, but the High Runics? Thanks for the heads up, Callon.”

  “You’re welcome,” Callon shrugged. “I knew about it only after I landed.”

  “I’m going to beat Nylan—”

  “He didn’t know either,” Lanthar said.

  “Gavasti!” Alaister yelled, kicking the fire logs. He knelt and grabbed his father’s logbook before wheeling around to answer the Dragons’ growing bellows. Alaister nearly knocked Kalyna over in his hurry. He had failed to even notice her tapping his shoulder.

  Kalyna grabbed his elbow. “Alaister, I need to speak with you.”

  Callon and Lanthar took their cue and made to leave for their Beasts. Kalyna exhaled and tapped on Alaister’s arm, refocusing his attention. His eyes were distant, his mind racing.

  “Not now, Kal… With the Lythgorians, the recruits, the raids… and the planning… and the damn ‘Lets…”

  Kalyna watched Alaister speed through the halls engaged in his thoughts without further notice of her. She did not want to add one more weight, one more pressure. She knew better than to bug him when he was like this, but this could wait no longer. This had to end – now. She refused to bear the responsibility for misplaced alliances and lost souls. But, when Kalyna finally talked herself into confronting Alaister, no matter the verbal repercussions, he was gone to his Beast.

  Kalyna sprinted after him, air whisking her along to the cliffside Mounting Ledge. She found Alaister there, standing and venting to Jaxin, who knew nothing of the matter and even less of what Alaister was saying. Jaxin noticed Kalyna first and cocked his head in a pitiful plea.

  Smiling gently at the Beast, she pressed forward.

  “I don’t understand it, Jaxin. How could my father have seriously thought that our few numbers could take on such a—”

  “Alaister...”

  “Not now, Kal.”

  Callon and Syralli landed along the Ledge and waved. Kalyna waved back curtly. Callon gestured to Alaister wide-eyed and shrugged. Even though he had no clue what she wanted with Alaister, he could see that it was important, pressing.

  Kalyna inched closer to Alaister, but he did not notice her.

  Callon exhaled and leapt from Syralli to approach him. “Al...”

  “Callon – does it make sense that my father would think that so few could defeat so many in such an out-front manner? There has to be something more to these pages, something more that I am not understanding.”

  “The logbooks are all in code, Al.”

  “And I cracked it… when I was ten.”

  “We.”

  “I.”

  “Weird, I do recall being there.” Callon shrugged his eyebrows, then his shoulders. “Maybe you missed something?”

  Kalyna took the hesitant pause as opportunity. “Alaister…”

  “I don’t know, Cal.”

  “It is possible for you to miss things.” Callon winked at Kalyna, apologetically. “Right before your eyes, too.”

  “I wouldn’t be alive if I couldn’t see things plain as day.”

  “So says you,” Callon said coyly.

  Kalyna pressed her lips before rallying her voice above its normal candor. “Alaister…”

  “Yes. Says I.”

  “Well, did you happen to notice the fair Kaly here still trying to get your attention?”

  Alaister stopped in the middle of loosening his saddle and faced her. Kalyna’s features were taut and her frown graven. “It can wait, Kal,” he said before returning to Jaxin.

  A wind whipped Alaister’s face and stung his lips and eyes. Kalyna’s voice was harsh. Loud. “No,” Kalyna exhaled. “No, Alaister. It cannot.”

  “I’m listening,” Callon muttered, though he knew Kalyna’s focus was confined to another.

  Alaister returned Kalyna’s attentions, first by force, then by curiosity. She had been acting strange – a fact that Alaister had conveniently denied until he could find more time and energy to devote to solving it. The blood bond between him, Kalyna, and Jaxin had seemed a good enough answer, though somewhere inside, he knew it was something much more than that. Now, he had no choice but to pay attention.

  He nodded accepting her beckoning. “What is it?”

  “I am not it.”

  “I don’t follow…”

  “You speak of me as if I am The One and I am not. Alaister, listen to me. I am not The One.”

  “Yes Kal, you are. You’ll see it one day as I do.”

  “You don’t see anything as it is, Alaister! You see what you want to see and only read what you want to read in your father’s logs!”

  “Kal…”

  “Look at me, Alaister. Me. Just me.”

  Alaister obeyed.

  “I am not The One.”

  “It’s all right to be scared, Kal.”

  “I am not afraid. Not of this.”

  “You have to be The One,” Alaister said, a touch of doubt on his voice. He looked to Callon for support, but was only directed right back to Kalyna’s enduring copper stare.

  “No, I don’t.” Kalyna exhaled and crossed her arms and paced under the watchful gaze of Jaxin. “Your father picked me – for some reason – without knowing who or what I was. You’re supposed to be able to see the Prophecy revealed – to know The One where they stand. Do I look like that person, Alaister?”

  “I—”

  “Let her finish, Al.”

  “In the Prophecy, The One garners no fear, no malcontent, no viciousness, or ill will. Alaister, I have all of those things raging inside me so much so, that sometimes I’m afraid they will consume me. That they will control me. I cannot be The One, Alaister. I will never be, no matter what you say.”

  Alaister did not speak. The silence stung all involved, even the Beasts shifted uneasily at the abrupt heaviness to the air. Callon looked from Syralli and Jaxi
n, to Kalyna. She was serious, and he believed her. He believed her now more than ever, even though he had long steeped his mind in a firm refusal to subscribe to any bit of Prophecy. But that did not mean he was ignorant on the matter. Callon knew the Prophecy well enough to realize truth when it was spoken. He also knew it well enough to realize that there was always the rest of the Prophecy.

  Callon ducked in between the stares of Alaister and Kalyna. “The Prophecy speaks of the five catalysts. What if… the Catalysts aren’t what’s but who’s? What if that is what she is, Al?”

  “That Callon, is the first accurate description of any grandiose dream I might have. Catalyst, sure. But, The One? I can barely find it in my heart to control the Runes I have been given and the responsibilities I must bear before you add what The One must do. I am not it. I… I’m not even completely Soleran.” Kalyna swallowed and found the ground. “Please Alaister, you have to stop ignoring what is right before you.” Kalyna reached for Alaister, her fingertips warm with the fire of her convictions.

  Beneath her smolder, Alaister knew Kalyna spoke truths. He looked at the worn logbook in wistful silence and then, with a deep breath, chucked it off the cliff.

  “Alaister, are you insane?” Kalyna asked.

  “No.”

  “Al, I don’t think that was the best of choices you could’ve made there. Bad form, Al. I mean… Kai’s journal…” Callon stopped cold. “Kalyna… what exactly do you mean by saying you’re not completely Soleran?”

  Alaister’s gaze found Kalyna as well, confused and trapped by the same question. He had not heard her confession before. It had failed to even register.

  “Alaister…” Kalyna did not know where to begin or how to begin. Words had never been her gift. Explanations eluded. She was good at being invisible – unimportant. Kalyna stepped closer to the men and removed the gifted wristband from her wrist. The Lythgorian ink glimmered in the waning sunlight. “It’s Lythgorian…”

  “I hate to point out the obvious Kaly, but ink doesn’t make you a Lythgorian,” Callon said.

  Ignoring Callon, Kalyna latched onto the gray-blue eyes that still had yet to register any reaction to the tattoo or secret. She searched for recognition. A response. Anything.