The Rise of Ancient Fury

by Ben Wolf

  Vandorian snarled and raised his sword.

  Calum slipped under Magnus’s arm and held up his left hand. White light flared from his palm and stalled Vandorian’s swing.

  Vandorian’s eyes narrowed, and his personal guard recoiled a step with their weapons raised. Vandorian also backed up, but he didn’t lower his sword. “What is the meaning of this sorcery?”

  Magnus bristled and tried to pull Calum back, but Calum shook free of his grasp. “Calum—”

  “Lumen, the General of Light, is free. He requests your help in overthrowing the tyrannical ruler of Eastern Kanarah, the King. This light is his sign, the evidence of his release.” Calum stood his ground, and the light flared even brighter. “I humbly request an audience with Kahn to show him this sign and petition him for his support.”

  Vandorian scoffed. “An impressive trick, to be sure, but nothing more.”

  Calum refused to be dissuaded. “You know full well that we meant to free Lumen. You met us at the Central Lake because you knew we’d be there. Now we’ve done it, and you refuse to believe us?”

  “Even if Lumen has been freed, what concern is the Eastern Kingdom of ours?” Vandorian pointed his sword at Magnus. “This usurper will be judged either way. His crimes against Kahn and Reptilius will not go unpunished.”

  “My crimes?” Magnus hissed. “The co-conspirator in Praetorius’s murder speaks of my crimes?”

  “Whatever the case—” Calum cut in, “—you must take us before Kahn and allow him to make the decision. If he chooses not to join Lumen, then he can kill us at his leisure.”

  Vandorian’s glare centered on Calum. “I serve at Kahn’s pleasure to prevent unnecessary interruptions from disturbing him.”

  “With respect, if Lumen has been freed, this isn’t your call to make.” Calum stared back at Vandorian and lowered his hand, and the glow faded to nothing. “It’s Kahn’s.”

  Silence pervaded the courtyard. Magnus’s muscles tensed again. If Vandorian moved to attack Calum, he’d be ready to intervene.

  Instead, Vandorian sheathed his sword. “Very well. If you wish to see Kahn, then you shall see Kahn. And then you will all perish in a flood of emerald flames, and I will revel in the sight.”

  Calum didn’t flinch. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Vandorian’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward, sneering. “Or I could just kill you instead and never tell Kahn.”

  Calum folded his arms. “Like I said, I’ll take my chances.”

  Vandorian grinned, and his golden eyes met Magnus’s. “Your human friend is as audacious as you. I will give him that.”

  “So are we gonna see the Dragon or not?” Axel called from behind.

  “Be careful what you wish for, little human.” Vandorian scanned Magnus’s group again. Then, louder, as if declaring it to those Saurians around him, he said, “I would be remiss if I did not take the Princess of the Sky Realm, the leader of the Wolves, my treacherous brother, and Lumen’s glowy-handed ambassador before Kahn.”

  Then he turned and headed toward the Crimson Keep, and the group, escorted by General Hanza and his soldiers, followed.

  Red stone buildings lined the road to the Crimson Keep. The Communal Hall, where the Sobek lords of old would come to meet with Magnus’s father, now lay as a mound of rubble. It must’ve been destroyed in Kahn’s takeover and never rebuilt.

  At the time, Magnus had been too busy trying to escape to care what did and didn’t survive. Yet more than a year had passed, and no one had done anything about it. Apparently, Kahn needed no wise counsel from the ranking Sobeks of Reptilius.

  As they walked, Magnus noticed additional signs of neglect in his city. Countless other buildings had entirely crumbled as well, and almost every building had fallen into some state of disrepair.

  Likewise, the city lacked the usual energy Magnus had known prior to fleeing Reptilius. Where Saurians and Sobeks had once roamed the streets engaging in commerce, they now appeared sporadically and quickly vanished indoors or down alleyways as Vandorian and his guards approached.

  Magnus stole a glance at General Hanza, who walked parallel to him but several steps away. Three Sobeks walked between Magnus and General Hanza as a sort of buffer. Even so, when Magnus looked over, General Hanza met his gaze. In it, Magnus caught a tinge of regret, or perhaps even shame.

  Before long, the Crimson Keep loomed overhead. As a hatchling, Magnus had marveled at its size and architecture. Three red spires, each one taller than the next, arose from its western side and helped to shape out the enclosed portion of the structure, but the eastern half of the Crimson Keep opened directly to the sky. It made entering and exiting easy for Dragons.

  Magnus recalled the rush of energy he felt when seeing his father taking off or landing from the courtyard. The sheer power of his wings, the rippling muscles under his impenetrable scales, the emerald fire blazing from his mouth…

  “This is ridiculous.” Axel’s voice tugged Magnus out of his stream of thoughts.

  Magnus turned back. “What is?”

  “The size of that place. It’s even bigger than the Sky Fortress was. No one needs a house that big.”

  “You do when you are the size of a Dragon,” General Hanza said.

  By the look on his face, Magnus could tell Axel wasn’t satisfied, but he didn’t say anything else, either.

  They headed toward the Crimson Keep’s main doors, twin panels of intricately engraved Blood Ore that parted in the center and pulled into the palace.

  Inside, the familiar obsidian floors gleamed under the torches mounted to the walls and hanging from the lofted ceilings above. Sunlight shone through the irregular slits of windows carved into the red walls, diminishing the Crimson Keep’s otherwise imposing ambience.

  After more than two hundred years of living within these walls, Magnus knew every inch, every nook and cranny, every flaw. He remembered the stench of the torch smoke, the aroma of butchered cattle and wild game back in the kitchen, the musty odor of the caverns and tunnels beneath the Crimson Keep. Every familiar smell resurrected old memories.

  He clenched his fists and measured the strength pulsing through his right hand—the replacement for the one Vandorian had removed. Though the lighter green scales covering it didn’t match those of the rest of his body, the strength and the vengeance locked within that hand would soon break free.

  They turned a corner and entered the eastern courtyard. The sun blazed overhead in a cloudless sky, warming the red stones that formed the courtyard’s sprawling floor. At the far end of the courtyard, shrouded in darkness, a gaping cave in the side of the mountain beckoned them forward.

  Magnus knew what—who lay inside it.

  “My lord Kahn, Dragon King of Reptilius,” Vandorian called. The group stopped behind him as he spread his arms out to his sides, a gesture both submissive and somehow arrogant at the same time. “Uncle, I have brought you honored guests, including your long-lost nephew, Magnus. He wishes to have a word with you.”

  A deep, guttural rumble emanated from the cave, followed by a voice equally as deep and menacing. “Magnus.” A peal of terrible laughter followed next.

  “Yes, Uncle. He has returned to us, and he promises to exact vengeance upon you for Praetorius’s death.” Vandorian clacked his talons on his golden breastplate. “Surely you do not wish to disappoint him?”

  More laughter. “No, Vandorian. I do not.”

  The ground beneath Magnus’s feet shook with rhythmic thuds. Calum and Axel stumbled to maintain their footing, but Condor and Lilly started floating. Riley crouched down and balanced on all four of his limbs.

  A dark-green snout, almost black, emerged from the shadows, followed by a reptilian face with gleaming golden eyes. Eyes that Magnus recognized immediately. Eyes that renewed the disdain and the rage within his chest.

  Two black horns spiraled from the Dragon’s head. Its thick neck spread into a pair of colossal shoulders, and its giant arms flexed as it pushed against t
he red stone to move forward. Charcoal-colored scales plated its broad chest, and it stood on its back legs and rose to its full height of at least twenty-five feet.

  Kahn, the murderer of Magnus’s father and the only Dragon now known to Kanarah, spread his mammoth wings and stared down at Magnus.

  He laughed again. “Welcome home, Nephew.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Vandorian knelt. General Hanza knelt. The Saurian soldiers around them knelt.

  But Magnus did not kneel.

  He would never kneel to Kahn.

  “You dishonor me, Magnus,” Kahn rumbled, and smoke billowed from his nostrils. It was meant as a threat, but Magnus refused to give fear any quarter in his heart.

  Instead, Magnus stared steel at Kahn. “You dishonored yourself the day you crushed my father’s head and murdered my siblings.”

  Vandorian arose and turned back to face him, sneering. “Kingdoms are overthrown, Magnus. It is a part of life. You yourselves mean to overthrow Eastern Kanarah, yet you rebuke us for seizing Reptilius?”

  Kahn tilted his massive head. “What do you mean by that?”

  Vandorian pointed at Calum. “This human claims to wield power given to him by the General of Light.”

  Kahn’s golden eyes fixed on Calum. “Power? What power?”

  Calum stepped forward quickly, but Magnus could see him trembling as he tried to keep his back rigid. He couldn’t fault Calum for it. A Dragon, especially one as treacherous as Kahn, was a terrible sight to behold.

  Calum raised his left hand, held his palm toward Kahn, and brilliant white light shone on Kahn’s face.

  “This is a gift from Lumen himself,” Calum began. “He gave it to me as a means of convincing those who would be his allies to join him in his quest to overthr—” Calum stopped. “—to liberate Kanarah from the King’s tyrannical reign. We are here to petition you for your support, Lord Kahn.”

  Calum glanced back at Magnus, who nodded. He understood that Calum had a task to perform and wouldn’t hold it against him.

  Calum faced Kahn again. “Will Reptilius join the General of Light and help him make Kanarah free for everyone?”

  Kahn’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

  Calum closed his hand, and the light faded. “Are—are you sure?”

  “I do not wish to repeat myself, boy,” Kahn hissed.

  “Alright.” Calum nodded. He lowered his hand and stepped back, more defeated than afraid.

  Axel patted his shoulder. “Saw that one coming.”

  “My lord,” Vandorian said. “I would have dispatched them already, but the Shadow Wolf commands the Wolves of the desert, and the Sky Realm Princess is among them as well.”

  Kahn’s mouth parted in a jagged, toothy smile. “I care nothing for the Wolves—”

  “Of course you don’t,” Riley muttered.

  “—but I remember battling your father and bringing your realm to the brink of ruin, Princess.” Kahn’s eyes narrowed at Lilly, and his wicked smile persisted. “How is old Avian these days?”

  Lilly started forward, but Condor tried to hold her back. She twisted out of his grasp and shot him a glare, then she drifted toward Kahn. “My father is dead, and you now speak to the Premieress of the Sky Realm. I demand justice for the wrong you’ve done to my people, not just to my family.”

  “Demand justice?” Kahn laughed. “You rejected an envoy of peace sent at your family’s request to celebrate your engagement. Your father cast Vandorian and his guards out of your realm as if they were rubbish to be dumped over the edges of your silver platforms.”

  “And that necessitated the genocide of our people and an attack that obliterated our home?” Lilly shot back. “You overreacted on a grand scale!”

  Kahn’s malicious smile widened. “I do not tolerate disrespect from inferior beings.”

  Lilly reached for her sword, but it no longer hung from her belt, so instead she drove her fist into her hip. “You think of us as lesser than you?”

  “Look at me.” Kahn spread his wings again, and his massive form filled the entirety of Magnus’s field of vision. “You are lesser than me. I am the pinnacle of creation. No being in Kanarah can subdue me. Not even your father and his magic sword could vanquish me. I reign supreme.”

  “I intend to challenge that assertion.” Magnus clenched his fists and stepped forward. This conversation had gone awry, and he needed to bring it back to the topic at hand. “And if I win, I will reclaim the throne on behalf of my father, the mightiest Dragon of all, Praetorius. And I will do so also on behalf of the Windgales, against whom you’ve trespassed violently.”

  Kahn laughed again and shook his head. “Magnus, I could incinerate you with one burst of emerald flame. Are you so eager to perish in such a manner?”

  “I will not perish.” Magnus leveled a glare at Kahn. With absolute certainty in his voice, he said, “Instead, I will kill you.”

  Kahn huffed, and two more plumes of smoke billowed out of his nostrils. “Then I choose to forgo my right to battle and grant Vandorian permission to dispatch you. He tells me he already took your hand once. Perhaps this time he can finish the job.”

  “I can, and I will.” Vandorian grinned and rubbed his hands together.

  “Are you so afraid that you would send your lackey against me instead of facing me yourself?” Magnus chided. “After all that talk about being the pinnacle of creation?”

  Kahn remained unfazed. “You know our laws as well as any. The one challenged may choose a champion to fight in his place.”

  “Vandorian is no champion.” Magnus spat and glared at his traitorous brother. It ultimately didn’t matter which of them Magnus killed first. He’d resolved that either they would both die today, or he would. He would not be denied the opportunity to claim vengeance for his father. “And when I dispatch him, you will relinquish control of Reptilius to me?”

  “If you defeat him, then I will agree to face you in single combat, short as it may be.”

  “He cannot defeat me, Uncle.” Vandorian sauntered toward Magnus with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword, which still hung from his belt. “He is too slow. Too sluggish. Too weak. He is but a fraction of the warrior I am. I will hand you his head this time instead of his hand.”

  Magnus glared at him. Vandorian’s arrogance grated on him, but he didn’t let it break his focus. He simply replied, “Your death cannot come soon enough.”

  “Very well,” Kahn rumbled. “Clear the area, give them space, and let the contest begin.”

  Magnus turned back toward his friends. “Condor, give the signal to General Tolomus. Go now.”

  Condor nodded. He gave Lilly a long look, then he sprang into the air, leaving the five of them behind. None of the Sobeks could grab him in time, and Kahn regarded the escaping Wisp as little more than an annoying fly buzzing away.

  “Are your friends already deserting you, Magnus?” Vandorian scoffed. “I cannot blame them. Kahn and I will discuss what to do with those who remain after I have ended your worthless life. I suspect dragonfire will be involved.”

  Magnus faced him again and eyed the pouch secured to Vandorian’s belt. His Dragon Emerald resided inside. Once he killed Vandorian, he’d take the stone back, and then he’d kill Kahn next.

  Whatever doubts burned in his chest, he snuffed them. In their place, vengeance flowed, spreading throughout his body to his head, hands, feet, and tail.

  He had envisioned this moment ever since he’d escaped this place on the night of his father’s murder. He had planned and prepared himself to face the rigors of battling not only Kahn but also Vandorian to the death. He had deconstructed his mind and reforged it into an intense focused weapon that would ensure his victory.

  Magnus would not fail.

  Vandorian drew his sword, its blade gleaming the telltale blue of Blood Ore, and he motioned to General Hanza. “Well? Give him his sword. I am eager to stain the stones with his blood.”

  Behind Magnus, Condor landed next
to Lilly as General Hanza approached. As before, the Sobeks barely reacted to him, and neither did Kahn.

  “It’s done,” Condor said.

  Magnus nodded and accepted his sword—his old Blood Ore sword—from General Hanza. “Thank you, General.”

  General Hanza’s eyebrow rose. “It has been nice knowing you, Magnus.”

  “If I am to die, then I will join my father in a better place.” Magnus raised his sword, and General Hanza stepped back into the perimeter among his soldiers. “Come, Vandorian, and meet the razor edge of justice.”

  Vandorian started forward, dragging the tip of his Blood Ore sword across the stone floor. It scraped and scratched, but he didn’t raise it until he stopped ten feet from Magnus’s position. “Give our father, our brothers, and our sisters my regards.”

  Overhead, a small, dark form flew into view. Magnus noted it in his periphery, but he didn’t take his focus off of Vandorian. “I have anticipated this day for years, Vandorian. No amount of rhetoric or intimidation will repel me.”

  The form flew over their heads and out of Magnus’s range of sight.

  Vandorian snorted. “Then perhaps my sword will do the—”

  Green-tinted metal flashed down from the sky, and a new blade embedded in the stone floor between them with a loud thud.

  The Dragon’s Breath.

  General Tolomus’s aim had been true, albeit too centered between Magnus and Vandorian. Still, from so high above, he’d done well. Magnus’s plan had more or less worked thus far.

  Both of the Saurians stared at the sword for a moment, then Vandorian’s eyes widened with recognition. He knew what the sword was, and that was exactly the reason why Magnus hadn’t brought it along.

  Vandorian lurched toward it with his hand extended.

  Magnus hurled his Blood Ore sword at Vandorian, who recoiled and barely managed to bat Magnus’s sword away in time with his own blade. In that instant of hesitation, Magnus launched toward the Dragon’s Breath.

  Vandorian recovered with a snarl, plowed forward, and swung his sword at Magnus in a brutal arc.