The Darkakin were being killed by the hundreds now, boxed in and under the shadow of Verda’s greatest predators. Vorgraf the mountain child, an offspring of Garganafan himself, had landed in the middle of the savages, using his hulking weight and mighty tail to flatten them. His breath was that of ice and it took life as quickly as any fire breather.
The bond Gideon shared with Ilargo was constantly probed by other dragons in a bid to discover the whereabouts of Adriel and Galandavax, who were both notably absent. The pair had decided to keep their fate to themselves, for now, offering no distractions. Rainael’s voice was much harder to keep out, however, since her bond with Ilargo was almost as strong as his own. Her entire question came across as more of an impression and the Dragorn just knew what she had asked.
They think Adriel has gone to find Kaliban…
Gideon removed his hand from his chest, satisfied with his ability to hold a deep breath now. The young mage felt through the dark, red leather of his jacket and gripped the outline of The Veil.
Keep them out. We need to focus on Valanis.
I think Emenar and Beldroga are taking care of Valanis.
Again, Gideon knew where to look to see what Ilargo was referring to. Beldroga the great hunter was hanging off the Velian outer wall, clawing and biting at the stone beneath one of the colossal statues. The dragon adjusted his position and whipped his tail around to smash a hole big enough to fit his head inside. Fire erupted from his mouth, almost engulfing Beldroga, and worked to melt the stone supporting the king of old.
Are they really going to do that?
It would kill Valanis with a single blow, Ilargo replied.
Gideon could see the logic, but that statue would take the lives of so many more. It was too late to do anything now though, as the stone cracked from bottom to top until even the king’s crown broke. Emenar the golden one flew around the city, banking through the sky to turn about and collide with the back of the ancient king.
A distant roar echoed from below and filled Gideon with dread. It hadn't been a rallying cry or a shout of rage, but one of pain and suffering. Ilargo banked to the right in a sharp downward turn and brought Valanis back into view. Dolvosari the storm maker lay dead with a giant spear sticking out of his thick skull. His death rippled across the bond and elicited defiant roars from across the battlefield. Vorgraf charged through the Darkakin horde, taking little care of the elves who were forced to dive out of his way. The massive dragon took up Dolvosari’s place and added his icy breath to the torrent swirling around Valanis.
More spears were launched out of the inferno.
Every spear found a victim and brought down a dragon, each death a stab in Gideon’s heart. There was a part of him now that knew every dragon intimately, even if he hadn't met them. Most were older than Ilargo, but two that were younger took a spear in their side. The Dragorn gripped Ilargo a little tighter, fighting the urge to have them both fly away and ensure Ilargo didn't suffer the same fate.
We must hold - Ilargo kept his words to himself and twisted his body, narrowly missing a giant spear.
Gideon ducked down, hearing the metal tip whistle over his head and fly into the sky. At least that’s one less spear to kill a dragon, he thought. The spear still managed to catch Ilargo’s tail, chipping the hardened point at the end.
Vorgraf the mountain child took a spear to the joint where his front leg met his chest. It wasn't enough to slay the dragon, but he was forced to back away from Valanis, who’s dark figure was momentarily revealed within the fire. Gideon could see from his vantage that the dark elf had erected a shield to protect him, but the power to keep seven dragons at bay must be phenomenal. The Dragorn considered his own magical abilities, all of which had increased dramatically, and didn't believe he could achieve the same feat.
It’s coming down! Ilargo warned.
The king of old finally gave way, its foundations reduced to fragments and its bulk pushed forwards by Emenar. It was a sight to behold from the sky, he could only imagine how terrifying it looked from the ground. The statue thundered into the ground with a resounding boom that shook the world. Valanis and everyone around the old king were instantly concealed within a fog of dust and dirt.
A wave of elation rushed through every dragon and they shared a victory roar. They had defeated the dark elf and ended The Dark War once and for all!
Adilandra had been right; the dragons were the only thing that could save Verda from his reign. The cost had been high. Several dragons, young and ancient, had been slain in the battle. The number of elves lying dead beneath them must have been in the hundreds if not thousands and the Velian casualties would take days to count, not to mention the damage done to the city. The Darkakin had already started to scatter in a westerly direction, but the Lirians formed a wall of spears and swords that halted their retreat.
I have found Adilandra and Galanӧr! Ilargo announced excitedly.
Take me to them! Gideon held his breath as Ilargo tucked in his wings and dived for the ground.
It was impossible to say where the pair had been dropped off, but they had fought their way deep into the heart of the Darkakin. Gideon instructed Ilargo to make a dramatic landing, clearing a space in front of the queen of elves. The dragon killed half a dozen as his feet hit the ground and he followed the landing up with a column of fire. The savages ran from the sight of Ilargo and gave Gideon enough time to jump off without having to kill anyone.
Ilargo charged ahead, chasing the Darkakin in the same way a dog might chase birds. The space left behind by the dragon revealed Adilandra, a dancing wraith of fury. Spells of every kind sprouted from her palms and blasted the savages into oblivion. Lightning exploded from one hand, delivering instant death to the three Darkakin on her left, while her right hand flung half a dozen into the air. Casting such different spells from both palms was hard for any human mage, but her speed would never be matched.
Galanӧr was just as easy to find; the warrior-elf was never surrounded long enough to be hidden from sight. His twin scimitars were extensions of his arms and they never stopped moving. No more than a single strike was ever required to bring down his opponent.
“You’re late,” Gideon called before dashing right then left, dispatching two stray Darkakin.
Galanӧr twirled about, slitting the throats of three Darkakin in the same move. The elf puffed out his chest and smiled at Gideon, content as always to be in the middle of a fight.
“You Illian folk sure know how to throw a welcome party!” he called back.
It felt good to laugh, even in the middle of a battle and surrounded by enemies. There was fear in the eyes of those encircling them, but the savages believed as animals did that numbers counted for everything. With Galanӧr by his side and a Vi’tari blade in his hand, it only took them a minute to prove the Darkakin wrong. Man and elf fell into a synchronized dance, a feat they couldn't have accomplished if Gideon had not been wielding Mournblade. The Vi’tari blade kept him at pace with Galanӧr and even allowed him to save the elf from stray swords to the back. The last of the savage group turned and ran, only to find Adilandra waiting for them. Magic was the death of them, her spells inescapable.
As the last of them burst apart, the queen stepped forward. “It’s good to see you again, Gideon.”
Gideon’s reply was on the edge of his lips when, out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a pale figure tear through the Darkakin ranks and leap over the dead. By the time Gideon turned his whole head, the pale figure was already in the air and coming down on Adilandra with a cleaver-like sword. It wasn't the first time the Dragorn had laid eyes on the albino Darkakin. This particular savage had been in The Goddess’ bedchamber during their rescue attempt of Adilandra’s elven friends. The albino had beaten her and decapitated the queen’s companion right there in front of her. Of course, Adilandra had been drugged at the time, reduced to a shade of herself.
That was no longer the case.
The pale Darkakin intended t
o cut the queen down the middle, coming down hard with both hands on his cleaver. Adilandra whipped her arm up and caught the Overlord mid-flight, suspending him with magic. The savage struggled to move but not a single muscle so much as twitched. Adilandra flicked her finger and the cleaver flew from his hands, out of sight.
“Overlord Kett…” she purred.
Gideon witnessed pure hatred flash across Adilandra’s eyes. The Dragorn knew she was about to kill the man very slowly and painfully. Kett deserved everything he was about to experience, but Gideon just couldn't allow anyone to die in such a way. He made to take a step, only to find Galanӧr’s hand reaching out and halting him in his tracks. The elf shook his head, keeping the Dragorn rooted to the spot. Adilandra needed this…
Floating before them, Overlord Kett squirmed as the veins under his skin bulged and his eyes turned red. The albino’s limbs were held tight by his side, every muscle tensed. The red tattoos that lined his skin began to smoke and the edges glowed with red-hot ash. He screamed when the queen burned every tattoo from his kin, revealing the charred muscle beneath.
“Adilandra…” Gideon could only take so much.
The queen of elves didn't even glance back at him. The elf flexed her fingers and Kett experienced more pain.
“Adilandra!” Gideon was moment’s away from pushing Galanӧr aside and intervening.
The queen scrunched her hand and twisted it in the air. Kett’s chest puffed out once and he grunted one last time before his white chest took on a purple hue. Adilandra dropped him to the ground and stared at his dead body, the hatred still blazing in her eyes.
“It is done…” she whispered.
When, at last, she turned back to them, her eyes were glassy, but there was no sign of any hatred or fury. There was a degree of shame there, that much was clear to see. Perhaps now, he thought, she could let go of that feral nature that had plagued her for so long.
Adilandra found her smile and offered it to them both. “It is good to see you, Gideon.”
The Dragorn nodded absently, unsure what to say.
“How has this happened?” Galanӧr asked thankfully, his eyes cast over the elves fighting around them.
“It wasn't me,” Gideon answered. “They were already allies when I arrived. Maybe their hate of the Darkakin drove them to an alliance.”
“Unlikely,” Adilandra stated. “My husband would not pause his invasion for this…”
“Well,” Gideon added in a lighter tone, “at least they’re not fighting each other. Now that we’re here, we can make sure it stays that way.”
“It’s a shame we couldn't have arrived together.” Galanӧr planted a hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “I would have loved to fly into battle with you. That would have got my name into the history books.”
Gideon’s smile couldn't quite reach his eyes. “Oh, I think you’ll have your own chapter. I'm sorry we couldn't meet you.” It was a struggle to keep the sorrow out of his tone.
Adilandra appeared to pick up on it, however. “Where is Adriel?”
Gideon was saved from answering when the ground shook behind him. The impact was too heavy to be Ilargo. The hot breath on his neck had him turning around slowly, but he already knew who it was when Ilargo came bounding over, sharing his knowledge. Rainael the emerald star stood over them, her green scales coated with blood. Fresh holes had been poked through the membranes of her wings where swords and arrows had found their way through. Her blue eyes bored into Gideon as she lowered her head. More dragons landed around them, scorching the earth and driving the Darkakin away.
Where are Adriel and Galandavax? the queen of dragons asked pointedly.
Gideon glanced at Ilargo before the two of them opened up their minds to Rainael. All of their memories since leaving Malaysai flooded into her mind. The queen snorted and lifted her head when she witnessed the events within Mount Garganafan. As he shared Adriel’s last moments and Ilargo shared Galandavax’s, every dragon over Velia roared into the sky, only this time it wasn't one of victory.
“What’s happening?” Galanӧr asked.
Gideon turned to his friends. “Adriel and Galandavax perished in Ayda.”
“What?” Adilandra frowned. “How?”
The explanation was on the end of Gideon’s tongue when a mighty cheer erupted across the entire field. Elves and Velians alike raised their swords into the air and roared as the dragons had. Looking around, there were no more Darkakin to the east, with the bulk of their dark army scattering into the west and north. Velia was safe. Rainael growled one last time at the memories Gideon had imparted to her before she lifted her head to the sky and called on all her kin. The Dragorn heard her commands clearly, ordering the rest of the dragons to hunt down the fleeing Darkakin.
Gideon made to move but Ilargo stepped in front.
My mother does not command us anymore.
Gideon watched Rainael the emerald star glance at Ilargo before taking off into the sky, his claim unchallenged. It should have felt freeing, but Gideon suddenly felt just as alone as when Adriel died. As the first of a new order, they had been cut off from the rest of the host.
Adilandra was still looking at him questioningly, curious as to how Adriel, a powerful Dragorn could have been killed in what to them seemed a simple retrieval mission. Gideon wanted to explain but it didn't feel right amid the chaos of a battlefield. Besides, he had the greatest errand of all still to complete.
“I’ll explain everything when I get back,” he said.
“Get back?” Galanӧr echoed. “We just got here.”
Gideon patted The Veil inside his jacket. “I need to destroy it…”
Adilandra’s eyes focused on his chest. “You found it, The Veil.”
“You may have found The Veil,” Galanӧr said, “but how will you find Kaliban? It’s cold up in the mountains, too cold even for a dragon to go hunting. It’s a needle in a haystack.”
“We’ll find it,” Gideon replied with the most determined voice he could muster. “We have to.”
You need rest. Ilargo’s tone was almost that of an order.
You don't, so I don't.
Ilargo snorted and took off into the sky, a display of stubbornness. Gideon sighed, aware that he would never coax the dragon back down, not until he had rested. Now that he thought about it, his limbs ached and his stomach growled with incredible hunger.
“Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing to formulate a better plan…” he said, watching Ilargo hunt down stray Darkakin in the distance.
Many of the Velians and elves sat down wherever they stood, exhausted and injured. Those that remained on the periphery of the battle had enough energy to assist the wounded. The battlefield was littered with sporadic patches of fire and ice and no end of bodies. How the Velians were going to shift the fallen king was beyond Gideon. It would take years to break it all down and move the smaller pieces. Perhaps the mages of Korkanath would help, since they were absent from the battle.
“Come then.” Adilandra made for the city. “I would find somewhere more suitable and hear of your journey.”
Gideon sheathed Mournblade and fell in beside the queen of elves. As they headed toward the gates, he noticed the elves around them taking note of the pair he walked with. The Dragorn couldn't be sure how famous Galanӧr was among his people, but Adilandra was their queen. To them, she had been missing for just over four years and now here she was, treading over the same dead bodies, covered in the blood of their enemies. Murmurs and whispers broke out around them, though none approached and the queen did her best to ignore it all.
“Wait,” Gideon steered them to the north, where he had slain Thallan.
The jade scimitar was standing in the dirt where he had dropped it. The blade’s shape and style were similar to Mournblade but the hilt had been decorated in black and the steel turned green. With tentative fingers, Gideon pulled it free of the earth and examined the scimitar up close. It was exquisite, much like his own, only it was the feeling he go
t from holding it that revealed the truth of the blade. In his hand, it felt identical to Mournblade, as if he were only partially in control of it.
“That’s Thallan Tassariӧn’s blade,” Adilandra said.
“I know,” Gideon replied. “I killed him with it.”
“You killed one of the Hand?” Galanӧr asked excitedly.
Gideon was more concerned with the scimitar itself. “This is a Vi’tari blade. Was Thallan a Dragorn?”
“No,” Adilandra answered. “The original story is that Valanis took it from a fallen Dragorn. Using dark magic, he twisted the spells cast over the Vi’tari and gifted it to Thallan. Where once it only served a Dragorn, it now serves any who wield it.”
Gideon looked back at the scimitar, suddenly aware of what he was holding. “This is too dangerous to be left for any to claim.”
“As a Dragorn, its fate is yours to decide.” Adilandra left Gideon with her words, continuing their walk back to the city.
Galanӧr walked away and crouched over a fallen elf. “Forgive me, sister.” He relieved her body of the empty scimitar scabbard. “Put it in here for now.”
Gideon sheathed the blade and tied it over his back. His first thought had been to consult with Adriel or even Rainael, but he was on his own now.
You know that isn't true. Ilargo’s voice rang clearly in his mind. Besides, I know what we can do with the blade.
Gideon felt Ilargo sifting through his memories until they were both thinking about Korkanath. The image of the school faded to black and Gideon realised he was imaging the cave system underneath the island. Malliath’s old lair…
Perfect! Maybe I will keep you around.
Somewhere out of sight, Ilargo batted three Darkakin away with his tail, emphasising his response.
“Where’s Malliath?” Gideon asked.
Galanӧr took on his own sorrowful tone. “After they razed Gravosai, he left.”
“He just left?” Gideon looked at the elf incredulously.
“Flew west. He’s probably somewhere south of Syla’s Gate by now.”
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