Requiem's Song (Book 1)

by Daniel Arenson

  He produced soft, cotton strands and began to bandage up her cleaned wounds. Laira lifted her bowl of tea and sipped, letting the warmth flow through her. For the first time in many days, she didn't hurt.

  "But . . . proud? Grandpapa, it's a disease. Like the one infecting in my feet."

  "Nonsense!" Eranor tossed his beard across his shoulder. "Utter rubbish. Our enemies say such things, and perhaps you believed them. Sweetness . . ." He held her hands, kneeling before her, and gazed into her eyes. "You are not cursed. You are not diseased. You are blessed with a great gift from the stars. You are magic. You are wonderful."

  More than the tea, the coziness of this cave, or the healing ointments, those words changed something in Laira. As Eranor had drawn the pus from her wounds, those words seemed to draw out all the pain, fear, and shame from inside her. She found herself trembling, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  "Oh, dear child," said Eranor, his expression softening. He pulled her into his arms, and she embraced him, weeping against his chest.

  "Thank you," she whispered as he smoothed her hair. "Thank you, Grandpapa."

  When the sun set, and only the light of the brazier filled the cave, Eranor stepped outside into the night for his guard shift. Laira asked to guard too, but father and son raised their eyebrows and told her to stop being so silly.

  Jeid cooked a stew of hares, mushrooms, and wild tubers. It was the best meal Laira had ever eaten. She sat wrapped in a great, warm cloak of bear fur, her body washed and rubbed with sweet-scented creams. For the first time since her mother had died, she was clean, well fed, and clad in warmth. Her eyes would not stop stinging.

  I am magic. I am wonderful.

  She wanted to tell Jeid about all her pain—about how her father had exiled her, how Zerra had burned her mother, how the chieftain had shattered her jaw and starved her, how she had crawled through the forest for so long, nearly dying. But she could bring none of it to her lips, and Jeid did not probe her, only fetched her clear water to drink, more food to eat, and even sang an old song to soothe her.

  That night they lay upon soft fur rugs. Laira watched the embers for a while, feeling warm and safe. She had not slept in a shelter since her mother had died, only in the dog pen, huddling and cold.

  This is safety. This is warmth. This is home.

  Soon Jeid was snoring softly, and the sound comforted Laira. She wriggled a little closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body, and lay beside him.

  Your twin hurt me, she thought, but you won't. You protect me.

  Her true father was cruel. Perhaps, she thought, Jeid and Eranor could be like the father and grandfather she needed. She closed her eyes, smiled softly, and slept.

  In her dreams, yellow eyes opened and black wings spread wide. Hundreds of the rocs flew, slamming against the canyon, clattering at the caves, screeching for her blood, and Laira screamed and cowered as their talons ripped into her flesh.

  TANIN

  They flew across the city at sundown, two dragons beating their wings and roaring fire, driving into a cloud of demonic fury.

  Aerhein Tower rose before them from a hive of devilry, a bone rising from a wound. Hundreds of creatures bustled around the old structure, rising like flies from a disturbed carcass, hissing and shrieking and buzzing and flapping their wings. The demons of the Abyss saw the dragons, and they howled, and they drove forward with clouds of rot and fire and smoke.

  "Shine your light, Issari!" Tanin shouted, diving upon the wind, the air whistling around him. "Scatter them!"

  At his side, Maev pumped her wings. Her green scales gleamed in the sunset, and she roared and blasted out fire. The flaming pillar spun, crackling, and crashed into a cloud of demons. The creatures—rotting winged horses with hollow eye sockets—burst into flames. Tanin added his fire, torching a cackling green creature with bat wings. Yet countless more demons flew beyond those they slew; they covered the sky, a tapestry of horns and scales and boils.

  "Issari!" Tanin cried to the princess who rode upon his back.

  He heard her chanting above in her tongue, speaking the name of her god. A soft light grew, pale as a moonbeam, subdued amid so much darkness. Several demons shrieked and scattered, but the others jeered and spat, mocking the light of Taal. A lumbering creature dived down, a rotting bull with leathern wings, a mockery of the city sigil. It opened its mouth and spewed down acid.

  Tanin dodged the rancid jet and blew more fire, torching the creature. The bull shrieked, blazing, and tumbled from the sky, only making room for a cloud of flayed women with feathered wings, their fangs long, their eyes flaming. Maev fought beside him, whipping her tail at swarming horseflies the size of wolves.

  "Issari, what's wrong?" Tanin shouted. "The amulet's light is dim!"

  "There are too many!" she shouted from his back.

  Tanin cursed, spat out a jet of flame, and torched a rising cluster of eyeballs and fingers.

  "Keep praying and shining what light you can!" he shouted back at her. "Maev!" The green dragon slew a festering cluster of rot, spat in disgust, and flew up toward him. Tanin pointed at the tower. "Maev, you break into that tower! Tear open the bars in the window. Issari and I will cover you."

  She growled. "I'm a fighter. I'm going to kill them all. I—"

  "Do it!" Tanin shouted. "Go!"

  With a grunt, Maev turned and drove forward, barreling into a cloud of cackling creatures—they looked like old men with canine faces—knocking them back with tail and claw. Aerhein Tower rose ahead from the smoke and flame of the creatures, its window peering like an eye. Tanin flew at his sister's side, blowing fire, clawing, biting, slaying demons of every size and shape.

  A flying, flaming snake wrapped around his neck, and Tanin screamed in pain. A desiccated, winged giant of a man—ten feet tall and flapping bat wings—grabbed Tanin's wing and tugged off the claw at its tip. Tanin howled as the claw came free, showering blood. A rotting glob of boils drove into his belly, its skin acidic, sticky and burnt, and Tanin bucked as he clawed it off.

  "Taal! Shine your light!" Issari shouted upon his back. Her amulet's beam drove forward, gaining some strength. The flaming snake hissed, loosened its grip on Tanin's neck, and fell. The lanky, winged giant covered its eyes, and Tanin sent it tumbling down with a swipe of his tail.

  "Issari, clear a path for Maev!" Tanin shouted. "Shine your light around her. I'm fine. I—"

  Before he could complete his sentence, more creatures slammed into him, great flying jaws with no bodies, and he roared as their teeth dented his scales. He kept flying, the creatures clinging to him. Balls of claws landed upon his wings, digging, cutting, and he roared and flapped madly, scattering them, flying on, blowing fire. Atop his back, Issari kept chanting, shining her light, a single beam nearly drowning in the clouds of darkness. The sun faded. Night fell and countless red eyes burned.

  Pain flooded Tanin. Blood coated him. But he had to keep flying. This was the flight of his life, the battle he'd been waging since that day years ago. Jaws clamped around him, and acid rained against his scales, and as the pain flooded him, he was flying there again in the darkness, flying away from Oldforge, away from his beloved, away from the only home he'd known. And still he sought a home. Still he fought for his family, for his people—for Requiem.

  "For you, Requiem," he whispered. "For my fallen sister and for the nation we will build in your name."

  He blew his fire. He burned them down. He cut and bit and roared with fury, and finally he drove through the horde, and Aerhein Tower rose before him. He landed upon its crest, tossed back his head, and howled to the night sky. The city of Eteer rolled below him, two hundred thousand souls, countless lights, and beyond it the sea—beyond it Requiem, that distant tribe, the heartbeat of his lost, cursed, forsaken people, the people he would raise to greatness. He blasted his fire in a ring, beating his wings, burning down the forces of the Abyss that still clawed and swarmed toward him.

  "Tanin, hold them off!" Maev sho
uted below, her maw full of blood, her wings pierced with holes. "I'll tear the damn bars open."

  His sister, a green dragon with chipped scales, clung to the tower. As she began to bite at the bars in the window, demons swarmed and landed upon her back, biting and clawing.

  "In the name of Taal, you are banished!" Issari shouted. Clinging to Tanin's back, she shone her light down onto Maev. As the beam hit the green dragon, the demons hissed and fell, tumbling down to the courtyard. Yet hundreds more were flying toward the tower now, rising from every roof and alley in the city. Tanin leaped off the tower top and hovered by Maev, protecting her with his body, blowing his fire.

  Arrows slammed into him.

  He roared in pain.

  Soldiers of the city stood below, nocking more arrows into their bows. Tanin sucked in breath, prepared to burn the men.

  "Tanin, no!" Issari cried. "We cannot kill humans. We—"

  Tanin growled. He spewed down his flames. The jet crashed into the courtyard ahead of the soldiers, sending them scurrying back. One man caught fire, fell, and rolled. The others leaped behind columns. Another blast of flame sent them scurrying away from the courtyard.

  "Maev, damn it, hurry up!" he shouted. Glancing behind him, he saw her still gnawing at the bars. She had tugged only one out from the window. A prisoner stood inside—it must have been Prince Sena, for he looked like his sister Issari, his hair dark and his eyes green. Maev began tugging the second bar.

  "Maev, for goodness sake, can you do this a little faster? I—"

  Before Tanin could complete his sentence, demons swooped from above, shaped like hairless, eyeless moles the size of bears. Their tongues lashed out, as long as their bodies, slamming into Tanin. Their drool burned, and the tongues wrapped around his neck and limbs, tugging him away from Maev.

  Tanin roared. He tried to blow more fire, but only sparks left his mouth; one creature's tongue was constricting him, keeping his fire at bay like a tourniquet. He could barely breathe, let alone blow flame. He clawed and lashed his tail, but more demons landed upon his wings, tugging him down, laughing. One creature landed on his back, tore off a scale, and tossed it aside with a cackle.

  Issari screamed and shone her light, but the eyeless moles seemed unaffected. Their tongues tightened around Tanin, tugging him away from the tower. Behind him, he heard Maev shout as demons landed upon her too.

  "They're blind—the light won't work!" Tanin whispered hoarsely, unable to speak any louder, struggling to blow more flame.

  Issari cried out wordlessly. He heard a hiss—a blade being drawn from a sheath. A weight lifted off his back. A flash of white flew before him. Tanin gasped—it was Issari! She leaped through the air, a dagger in her hand, and landed upon one of the blind moles. She drove her blade down, severing the creature's tongue which wrapped around Tanin's neck.

  He gasped for breath.

  Issari leaped again. She landed on his wing, thumping down upon the leathery surface. Tanin looked over his shoulder to see her lash her blade again, cutting down a demon. With a third leap, she landed upon a remaining mole, severed another tongue, and hissed like a wild animal. When first meeting the princess, Tanin had seen an angelic figure, a goddess of piety. Now, covered in blood, her eyes narrowed and full of rage, Issari seemed as fierce as any demon.

  The princess leaped again, legs kicking in the air, and caught his neck. She swung around and landed on Tanin's back. The demons, bloodied and squealing, hovered before them.

  "Burn them, Tanin!" she shouted.

  He sucked in air. He blasted his fire. Demons burned and fell. Tanin kept blowing his flames, lighting the night, spewing sparks and smoke like a gushing volcano.

  "Got him!" Maev cried behind.

  Tanin turned and saw his sister spit out another window bar. Prince Sena—thin and pale, his lips tight—climbed onto the windowsill. Chains bound his wrists and ankles.

  "Maev, lift him in your claws!" Tanin shouted. "He can't shift with chains."

  Maev grunted. "Oh, I'm not carrying him. He'll fly." As Tanin blew more fire, holding off a new swarm, Maev grabbed his chains between her claws. She grunted as she snapped the bronze links—first around the prince's ankles, then his wrists, and finally the chains that wrapped around his torso.

  "I've never flown before!" the prince shouted, standing on the windowsill. "I've only shifted in my room."

  Maev grunted. "Now's your time to learn!" She flicked her tail, knocking him down from the window.

  "Maev, damn it!" Tanin shouted.

  Issari screamed.

  As the prince tumbled down, Tanin made to dive, to try to catch the boy, already knowing he had no time. All he could do was watch.

  An instant before Sena could hit the courtyard, the prince shifted.

  A blue dragon rose, wreathed in smoke, blowing flame.

  The demons, perhaps in awe of a third dragon joining the fight, screamed and cowered. Tanin found himself grinning, found tears in his eyes. It was true. All the stories had been true. There were other Vir Requis. There was hope.

  Requiem lives.

  The dragons soared. They blew their fire together. The three flaming jets crashed into the army of demons, scattering them, and the creatures fled. The dragons of Requiem flew into the night, ringed in fire.

  ISSARI

  As she rode upon the dragon, holding the amulet before her, Issari felt something new, something that dampened her eyes and lit her heart. For the first time, she felt pride. She felt power. She knew then that dragons were not weak, cursed creatures for some to hunt, for others to pity and save. She knew that Vir Requis, the children of Requiem, were mighty and strong.

  I am proud to fight with you.

  As they flew across the city, casting back the demons with fire and holy light, sadness too dwelled inside her, for she knew that she would never see her brother again.

  You will fly north with them, Sena, she thought. You will be proud and free.

  She looked at him—a blue dragon, the beast that had shifted in their chamber in secret, that now flew and blew fire and roared. Issari had often pitied him, thinking his magic a handicap, but now she envied him. Now she wished she too could shift, could fly, could fight with fang and fire.

  She looked down at the city—a city of evil, of fear. And she knew that her task was different than his. Her burden, heiress of a kingdom, was to rule.

  Ahead she saw it—the coast of Eteer and the black sea. It would take him home. It would leave her here, empty, missing him, a single light in a dark city.

  "Fly north with us!" Tanin said between blasts of fire. The red dragon looked over his shoulder at her, his tongue lolling, his face scratched but his eyes bright. "Join us in Requiem."

  Riding on his back, Issari lowered her head. She looked down at her city, and she saw it there, rising from smoke and shadow—the palace. Her father was in the north now, enlisting his allies, hunting Laira. This was Issari's kingdom to rule, to inherit, to save from damnation.

  "I cannot," Issari said. "Place me down upon my palace, my friend, I—"

  Fire blazed ahead.

  Issari stared, gasped, and her heart seemed to stop.

  The demons across the sky shrieked and fled like birds from a running dog.

  Below in the palace courtyard—the place where Raem had beheaded so many Vir Requis—the ground shattered. Cobblestones flew. A rent tore open, and a creature burst from underground, wreathed in fire, beating bat wings. The figure soared, leaving a trail of smoke and cinder. Her body was carved of stone, curved and cracked, seeping flames and smoke. Fire girded her loins, and her fangs shone. Her eyes blazed like cauldrons of molten metal, and a ring of fire haloed around her head. She stretched out her arms as she rose, a pillar of sulfur and heat and light, laughing, shrieking, painting the city with red light.

  "Angel," Issari whispered. "Queen of the Abyss."

  The three dragons halted, reared, and clawed the sky. Their wings beat, scattering smoke and fire. Sparks f
lew off Angel, showering the city, igniting trees and gardens. The Demon Queen wasn't much larger than Issari—small compared to the bulky dragons—yet she did not cower. She let out a shriek like shattering glass, so loud that Issari covered her ears, and the dragons shook as the sound waves blasted them. The demon laughed, and rings of fire blazed into life around her, unholy halos that spun around her body, sending out heat and light. Smoke pounded and her wings beat, the wind tearing down trees, scattering stones, and sending the dragons into a spin. At that moment, Angel seemed larger than any dragon.

  "Greetings, reptiles!" she cried. "Greetings, stinking, cursed creatures of disease." As she laughed, the cracks on her body of stone widened, seeping lava like blood. "Do you see this kingdom? Do you see this hive the humans call Eteer? Look upon it! Here is your graveyard. Come to die."

  Sena winced; the blue dragon turned away from the flames. Tanin growled, but the red dragon dared not approach, and sparks sizzled against his scales. Sitting upon Tanin, Issari raised her amulet, but the chain caught fire, and she cried out and tore it off her neck. The amulet seared her palm when she held it, and she could barely see through the pain.

  Maev—her green scales chipped, her face bloodied, her wings tattered—seemed the only one undaunted. She reared, roared, and shot forward.

  "Enough talk!" Maev roared. "Taste some fire."

  With that, she blasted out her flames.

  White-hot, the blaze crashed through the rings of smoke and flame, slamming into Angel.

  Engulfed in the inferno, the Demon Queen laughed. She tossed back her head and stretched out her arms, basking in the fire.

  "I am a creature from the molten rock inside the womb of the earth!" she shrieked, her voice rising like typhoons from the blaze. "Your dragonfire cannot harm me. Now you will taste true heat."

  The Demon Queen swung her arm. A fireball flew from her grasp and tumbled forward, leaving a wake of light. The projectile slammed into Maev.