by Meagan Hurst
“Wyenrtros, how can you say this about Nivaradros? Have you forgotten—?”
“I have forgotten nothing,” the Dragon hissed in a tone that was pure ice despite the flames that escaped his mouth. “What I have seen, however, tells me more. We have, in my opinion, brought this upon ourselves. We gave Nivaradros two choices: death or exile, and he chose. We then offered him a second choice: death or become someone we feared enough to leave alone. He chose a second time. What I have seen disproves what I expected from him. He is here in mortal form because he cares for Zimliya. He has been in mortal form extensively for the last few years for the same reason. His actions may have brought our people to a higher level of respect. He has gained status within some of the immortals. Zyrhis considers him a friend, Dyiavea has sworn her loyalty to him first and Zimliya second, and I believe the Mithane has decided to overlook his attack on the Mithana.”
More protests ensured, but Z felt her shoulders shed some of the tension. They had an elder for an ally. She had hoped Veilantras would support her former student, but Z preferred this outcome if only one of the elders would back Nivaradros. Wyenrtros had occasionally tolerated Nivaradros’s presence, but this was an open acceptance, and something they required to survive.
Nivaradros needed more allies, though. Eyes scanning the crowd again, Z searched for Karlitras, but still couldn’t seem to locate the Dragoness. Wondering if Karlitras had decided not to attend—or worse been forced to stay away—Z began watching the room in the mindset of defense. Voices began to rise and fire began to rain down once more. Exhaling sharply, Z glanced at Wyenrtros before calling a shield to surround them all.
“I call a vote!” Wyenrtros cried from beside her.
Around them individual spots of fire began to glow before each Dragon. Z winced as she saw the outcome that was imminent. “I don’t understand,” Dyslentio said from behind her.
“Black means death in this case, or no in every other case; orange means life, or yes in every other instance.”
“Ah, there are quite a lot of black fires,” the Kryhista pointed out in a worried tone. His ears flickered back and forth with his unease, and he shifted his weight from hoof to hoof as though he planned to run.
“There are,” Z agreed in a voice she forced to be steady. “We do not have the support we need.”
It clearly wasn’t what Wyenrtros had hoped for either. Nivaradros had maybe an eighth of the support he needed to be allowed to leave the Isle without the entire Dragon population chasing him. The elder hesitated, before he glanced at her—his eyes warning her to be ready to flee. “Does anyone protest this ruling?” he called out in a tone that demanded someone protest. Z didn’t see the point to his request, but to her astonishment the Dragon was answered.
“I do!” a familiar female voice roared from above them all.
“As do we.”
A group of seven Dragons spiraled down out of the sky in a tight and almost out of control fall until they landed upright on the floor inches from a rather startled Dyslentio. That wasn’t, however, the most surprising thing about the timely arrival of the seven. It was the fact they carried passengers with them, and they were all beings Z knew well.
The Mithane eyed the gathered Dragons with disgust as he leapt from the back of the Dragon who had carried him. His eyes swept his surroundings—it was expected as Z didn’t believe he had ever been to the Isle—before they turned to her and, more importantly, her injuries. His eyes went to their blackest as he approached her. His way was blocked, though, as more of the newcomers’ guests climbed or jumped from the backs of their unusual rides.
Z watched in surprise as the Islierre and Shalion joined the Mithane on his approach. Crilyne stayed back, but his hands glowed with power and his eyes scanned their surroundings for threats. Zyrhis, Dyiavea, and Sabaias likewise hung back with their hands on their weapons, but they were here. Having been carried by Dragons they had never met to support a Dragon they once hadn’t trusted.
The Mithane reached her and raised a brow as he examined her injuries. “I see,” he drawled to the Dragons, “that you have taken excellent care of my daughter while she has been in your hands.” His eyes flashed with fury and he turned to the Islierre. “Do you find her treatment meets with your standards?”
“Oh, most certainly. There is nothing more reassuring than your allies deciding to make the attempt to assassinate one of the rulers of our lands, especially when it is a ruler who holds more than one kingdom.” The Islierre’s eyes found the Dragon she had slain earlier with shadow and his eyes lit up with delight. “I see Z exercised her talent for an element your kind does not control; did it worry you?”
The Dragons hissed and fire once again began to descend. “How boring,” Shalion murmured as a blanketing shield of shadow pushed hers out of the way and absorbed the flames. “You really should consider acting more appropriately; we represent more than you know.”
“I understand you choosing to come here to protect Zimliya,” a furious Dragon said in a tight tone. “But what I cannot understand is why you are here to protect Nivaradros, especially you, Mithane. He has taken much from you.”
“Indeed,” the Mithane agreed. “But he has also returned much to me. I would not have my kingdom if he had not chosen to remain by Zimliya’s side. We would not have our world if he had not fought long and hard to hold Zimliya here when everything was pulling her away. He has apologized for his actions regarding the death of the Mithana and others of my people, and I have accepted it. He is Zimliya’s chosen mate as well. Nivaradros is therefore technically family. If you chose to attack him, you are declaring war on my kingdom and it will be met with the full force of my people.”
“And mine,” Z added. “I have quite the army at my beck and call; do you really want to lose your whole race over such a foolish endeavor?”
“You are free to go. Nivaradros is the only one who must stay.”
“I am not leaving him.” Z snapped. “If I belong to him; he belongs to me.” She glanced at the Islierre and the immortal moved to her side and stood confidently beside her and beside Nivaradros.
Questions and accusations overran each other as the Dragons made a desperate attempt to regain control. While they shouted and occasionally attacked their neighbors, Zyrhis, Dyiavea, Crilyne, and Sabaias made their way over to join the group that had come to aid Nivaradros at the last possible instant before disaster. Karlitras had been one of the seven Dragons to carry a passenger back from the mainland’s, and she now shifted into her lesser form before strolling over to stand behind Nivaradros in silent support.
“You planned this?” Z asked Nivaradros in a lowered tone as the other six Dragons—Dragons she knew only by name—followed Karlitras and also shifted into their lesser forms.
“Yes and no. I asked Karlitras and the others to fly to Arriandie in hope that the Mithane would be willing to come and offer his support for you, but I did not expect such a large turnout; especially not from the Shade.”
Crilyne’s eyes gleamed as he looked at the gathered Dragons, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “How could I have let you possibly perish here after all the work you have put into making Zimliya almost sociable?” the Shade wanted to know. “We have our differences, but I believe within the next century or two I could start to tolerate you. I would like to have that chance.”
“Nivaradros, did you bribe or threaten enough people to come stand beside you?” someone called out mockingly—a sneer so present in their tone Z could taste it.
Before she or Nivaradros could reply, Sabaias stepped forward and rolled his wrist over so his palm was facing up. A light layer of magic rose from his palm and extended until a very large image of Nivaradros appeared—Nivaradros in his Dragon form. Speaking a single word, Sabaias let the image awaken into a memory taken several years prior from a battlefield Nivaradros had arrived at in time to both meet and save Sabaias from a battle the immortal heir could not otherwise have survived.
/> “This is why I believe you are wrong about the Dragon,” he told the Dragons icily as he let the image begin to reveal what had happened on that bitter day. It was more than a memory, as what it revealed wasn’t tied to one perspective.
~*~
“Sabaias, don’t let them get between you and—Damn it to the hells!” Z shouted in anger as she struggled to keep her sword between her and the enemy. Her sixteen year old self struggled to keep the masses from overwhelming her, but she and Sabaias had already managed to get separated from one another and Z feared both of them would perish on this field.
Outnumbered, exhausted, and struggling to fight through both magic and weather, Z tried to reach Sabaias’s side only to constantly find herself being thrown back by the enemy. Sabaias was talented, yes, but he was already injured and, like her, he was underweight and exhausted.
Capture and torture did that to people. Sabaias glanced over at her and grimaced as another one of his opponents fell. “How are you doing?” he yelled as he tried to reach her side.
“Still standing!” she shouted with a grim smile, but at the rate she was bleeding, she wouldn’t be standing for much longer. Exchanging a glance with him, she tried to reach him while he tried to reach her and at that moment her legs gave out. Instincts and training were all that kept her from losing her life. Kyi’rinn responded to her anger and she managed to roll to her feet after cutting down the man who rushed her.
She was ready to give into death. The mud clung to her bare feet, but kept compromising her balance at the same time. Blocking another strike, she glanced at Sabaias and let out a cry of warning and astonishment as she sensed another presence about to join them. Her cry of warning changed mid-point to become a cry of relief.
Fire erupted around them. Weaving it into a ribbon she encircled Sabaias with the magic she had borrowed from another and used it to bring them together so they could fight side-by-side. Screams of agony filled the air around them as a Dragon swooped over Midestol’s forces and burned them while keeping a careful eye on their location. It was a quick battle once Nivaradros entered it, and all too soon the ground was nothing but blackened soil and plants as well as occasional charred remains.
Nivaradros landed sharply, eyes blazing neon and cold enough that Sabaias took several steps back as she took a step forward.
“Nivaradros,” she murmured. “How…Why?”
“I was in the area and I sensed your presence.” His eyes looked her over and he snorted. “What in the skies is it with you and injuries? Every time you fight alongside someone else, you look like you attempted to take on the world—and I mean the world itself and not in terms of population—and haven’t decided if you won or not.”
“It’s not from fighting,” she explained. “It’s from being captured—”
“You let yourself be captured…why?” Dragon eyes turned to Sabaias. “No, don’t even say it or I will eat you myself!” Nivaradros snorted smoke and gritted his teeth as he lowered himself to the ground. “Hop on—both of you—I do not think it is wise to leave the two of you here in your condition. I know of a mortal village that should be safe; I will drop you off there.”
Several hours later Nivaradros landed outside, as he had promised, a small mortal village. Although it was more of a city than a village. Sending Sabaias ahead, Z remained with Nivaradros and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as he exhaled fire with irritation. “Yes…” he growled when she hadn’t spoken for some time.
“Why did you come?”
Nivaradros snorted again. “Because I owe you—”
“Bullshit. You owe me nothing.” Z clenched her hands into fists and turned away from him. “You don’t even like me.”
“No, but I do owe you, Z, and I have a feeling you’re going to be needed. If you cannot accept the debts I owe you then let me do this instead; this was a freebie. You owe me nothing in return for it.”
She tried to protest, but in the middle of her attempt, Sabaias returned and Nivaradros hissed softly. “I managed to get us a couple of rooms,” Sabaias said to her, ignoring the Dragon. “I had them draw a bath for you. If you will allow it I would like to stitch up the deepest of your wounds.”
“I can take care of them myself,” Z snapped before strolling off—saying nothing to either of the males she left behind.
Once she was gone, Sabaias glanced at Nivaradros and raised a brow. “It appears I owe you, Dragon,” he said in a cool tone.
“I did this for her,” Nivaradros countered. “Your life was merely intertwined with saving hers. Keep an eye on her though. Her wounds are deeper than you think.”
~*~
Anything else that happened between the two wasn’t shown, for Sabaias called back his power and regarded the Dragons before him with disapproval. “I am here because of that day,” he told them. “The reason you were able to view his private conversation with Zimliya is because I attached my power to record Nivaradros once he had arrived. Even I didn’t know the full extent of what I had gathered until recently. But, in all honesty, I have at least a half-dozen other occasions that convince me I should support Nivaradros. He is not going to win any titles for most friendly of beings, but he will not win anything for his viciousness either. He was there when we were struggling to build the shields to keep Tenia’s destruction from extending over all the lands; had he not been there none of us would be standing. He kept Z grounded and he kept us safe. He also fought alongside us as an equal; something I still have yet to see from any other Dragon who has come to fight amongst us.”
“One positive event and you want us to ignore all his other actions,” a voice shouted down. “Why should we?”
“I’m sure Zimliya would love to go into all the transgressions that the Dragons as a whole had been a part of,” the Mithane said stiffly as he stepped forward and shielded her. “She could likewise name those of my people and every other race that has ever called this world home. We’re not here to argue or counter the past; we’re here for the future and we believe Nivaradros is essential to it. If you continue to walk this path you have taken, I foresee a time where the Alantaions will take up arms against your race.”
A Dragon took to the air and Z began to ready herself to kill another immortal. Before she could strike, however, the Mithane’s eyes flashed in a way Z had only seen them turn one other time. The Dragon let out a shriek of pain before the bones of his wings snapped and he plummeted from the air towards others of his kind as they scrambled to get out of the way. He was, Z knew, gone before he hit the ground. The dangerous side of a healer was rarely revealed, but when it was, it was something to take note of. The Mithane could kill more efficiently than most.
“Is there anyone else who wishes their protest to take a more physical path?”
Chapter 14
Z was confident the Mithane had just terrified the Dragons. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how cold his expression was and smiled grimly. People always wondered about her distrust of healers, and this was why. Healers had an intimate knowledge of how things worked in any form or body, and they could use it violently. Z had only seen the Mithane act like this once before, but there was a reason the Alantaions had had the most peaceful rule of the immortals for centuries at a time. Few wanted to risk angering the Mithane.
His eyes slowly calmed as the Dragons withheld their attacks. “Wise choice,” he remarked as he glanced at her. “May I tend to your injuries or are you trying to see how much blood you can lose as an immortal before passing out?”
“Um, you can tend to them later…?” Z said weakly, eyeing him with concern since he was in a mood. She was well aware she had taken things too far with her injuries, but the threat against Nivaradros had kept her going. Now, they had help and her condition was making itself known. She glanced at Nivaradros and noticed the Dragon was watching the Mithane intently as the Alantaion tried to convince her to let him heal her, but he didn’t comment when she refused. “When this is over
you can heal me. I promise.”
“I will hold you to that.” Alantaion eyes held too much black to be comforting, but he let the subject drop.
But she had let things go too long. The Mithane supported her as she staggered. “Easy, young one,” he murmured in her ear. “We won’t let anything happen to Nivaradros or anyone else. You are exhausted, Zimliya. What did you do?”
She couldn’t answer and eventually Nivaradros moved to her side to help support her—she refused to allow him to lift her. “Can we wrap this up?” she murmured as her body struggled to handle strain she had placed upon it for so long. “How much blood do you think—?”
“Too much, but that seems to be you,” Nivaradros told her as the Dragons’ found their voices again and returned to challenging those who gathered in support of the life that was being weighed. “How juvenile,” Nivaradros called out as he continued to support her. “You are willing to go to war with the world—and once Z declares she is going to war, you do realize her allies will join her, right?”
“Most certainly,” the Mithane agreed with a glance at the Islierre. “This is probably the sole chance we’ll have for millenniums to attack another race that is purportedly still within the Alliance. I see no reason to miss the war.”
“My people would likely enjoy it as well,” the Islierre drawled as his eyes flickered with mirth. He glanced at Zyrhis. “How about the Syallibions?”
“Immensely.” Zyrhis, however, glanced up at the Dragons. “You are such fools,” he told them. “You are willing to challenge Nivaradros when he has more support than any member of your race has had before. I believe all of us challenged the fact that Nivaradros managed to not only catch Zimliya’s eye but claim her heart as well. Yet attempting to reason with her is futile.” Zyrhis chuckled as he met her eyes. “But I believe the relationship has been nothing but a benefit. Nivaradros is good for her.”