I cut her off, shaking my head and grabbing her hands. “I can’t stay. When he comes around, he’ll remember what I did.” But it was more than that. It was knowing that the king was somehow involved, that he was tied to the murtar, and that he had openly used that power, knowing what it might do. “And I need to understand Affellah.”
Asanley squeezed my hands. “Then we should go.”
I hurried through the Academy, heading toward the back door, and pulled it open. A massive garden stretched in front of us, though I knew how to navigate through here.
We headed to the middle of the garden.
By the time we reached it, I focused on the green dragon, on the power that connected the cycle. It was a different cycle than before, and I wondered if I could even reconnect to the other cycle at all. It had been contaminated somehow, influenced by murtar.
I waited. The dragon would come. I could feel him already starting to make his way toward me. As I stood in the garden, Asanley behind me, the door opened.
Brandel approached. I have never cared for him, and in the time I’d been away, he seemed to have filled out, though there was still hatred in his eyes when he looked at me, even if he didn’t recognize me because of my Vard clothing. Perhaps he did, though. Perhaps all of this was exactly what he had hoped for. It would be an opportunity for him to believe truths about me that he had already had in his mind.
Worse, now that I had started to question the kingdom’s actions, and those who had attacked the kingdom before, I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps I had made a mistake. Perhaps I was the one who had betrayed the kingdom, not Brandel.
So I could say nothing to him. I could do nothing.
“Vard,” somebody said.
Brandel stormed outside, already pulling upon power, but I reacted, forming a weave, holding power and wrapping it toward him. He couldn’t get past it.
He sneered at me. “I knew you weren’t like us.”
“I can explain,” I said.
“You attacked. You’re with the Vard. Look at you. You don’t even bother to hide it anymore.”
I pushed through the weave, trying to detect whether murtar had infected any of them, but didn’t feel it. Even though it was here in the Academy, these students had somehow avoided touching that power—much as I had.
At what point would they—we—have been introduced to it?
What would I have had done had I not known?
“You know we’ll chase you,” Brandel said.
“I know,” I said.
“The king will destroy you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “I know.”
The green dragon dropped to the ground, and I hurriedly climbed onto his back.
Brandel pushed against the weave, and I could feel him already starting to unravel it. He had grown more skilled in the time I was away.
Asanley joined me on the dragon.
“You can’t hide from us forever,” he called after me.
I looked down, holding his gaze. “I know.”
With that, the dragon launched into the air.
We hadn’t gone far when I saw two dragons approaching.
I recognized both. Natalie sat atop one of them, her father atop another. Neither of them were infected with the murtar, but I wondered if she would even know if they were. I looked back toward the Academy, and could feel the power of Affellah bubbling up from deep within.
“Do you need to speak with them?” Asanley asked.
I stared at Natalie, and across the distance, I could see her sadness, could feel it, even though whatever cycle we had once shared was gone. Maybe forever. I didn’t know if it would ever form again.
Were they aware of what I had done? Would they have known I had tried to stop the influence of the murtar on the kingdom, or did they only think I had gone and sided with the Vard?
I needed to talk to Natalie and her father, but perhaps not yet.
“I don’t think this is the time. I will need to, much like I will need to try to help more dragons—I don’t know how many remained influenced by the murtar—but for now, I think I need to work on understanding Affellah.”
Asanley leaned close to me. “If it is your journey.”
I tore my gaze away. “I don’t even know what my journey is anymore.”
“Then you must find it.”
The dragon carried us away, over the forest and to its edge, near the Southern Reach. As we traveled, I was still aware of Natalie and her father, but only distantly. They pursued us until we arrived at the Southern Reach, then stopped.
I looked out across the barren expanse of Vard-controlled lands and swallowed.
Was this my journey?
My journey had been one of service all along: first to my family, then to the Academy, and finally to the kingdom. Now what would it be?
If my journey was meant to be one of service, what would I serve next? Would it be myself, or some outside influence? Or would it be something even greater?
Affellah loomed into view, heat and power filling the volcano, but also filling me. Faintly, I was aware of tendrils of power coming from beneath the volcano, stretching out, flowing away from it, deep underground, toward the capital. I could feel that heat and power burning there.
Affellah had saved the Academy. At least for now.
What was my journey?
I didn’t know, but perhaps I didn’t need to know.
Maybe all that mattered was that I realized I had a journey.
I looked over to Asanley and she watched me, saying nothing.
It felt like I was leaving everything I had ever known, everyone I had ever known. I had come to the Vard lands searching for understanding, searching for a way to protect the kingdom, but perhaps there wasn’t going to be one. With everything that had happened, it was possible I would not be able to do anything. It was possible the kingdom had been corrupted from the very beginning.
If so, what did it mean for me?
As I focused on Affellah, feeling that power in the distance, it seemed as if heat surged within me. Affellah seemed to be guiding me. Asanley squeezed her arms around me, and heat radiated from her, connecting me to her. I was still aware of the other dragons as part of my cycle, though they had remained in the kingdom. They could hunt, searching for dragons contaminated by murtar. Perhaps they could find other places that had been influenced by it as well. If they did, I would have to intervene.
I wasn’t sure who else could.
A Servant. That was what Asanley had said.
Did it mean I was now a Servant of those lands?
Heat flared in me again, as if connecting me to Affellah. Or perhaps agreeing with me. Whatever it was, that power filled me.
And I would have to use it again, I knew.
I would have to use it against the kingdom to save the kingdom.
Perhaps that was to be my journey.
Grab the next book in the Cycle of Dragons series: The Restored Dragon.
A new cycle has formed, but it might not be enough to stop the spread of the murtar.
Ashan has returned to the Vard lands, becoming what his people claim him to be: a traitor. Now that he’s connected to the power of Affellah, the king will stop at nothing to bring him back. That includes attacking Ashan’s home and those he cares about.
Once again, he must leave the Vard lands before he can fully understand the power of Affellah. Saving his people has already meant betrayal. Can he still find a way to be their Servant?
Author’s Note
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Dan Michaelson
D.K. Holmberg
For more information:
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Series by Dan Michaelson
Cycle of Dragons
The Alchemist
Similar Series by D.K. Holmberg
The Dragonwalkers Series
The Dragonwalker
The Dragon Misfits
The Dragon Thief
Cycle of Dragons
Copyright © 2021 by ASH Publishing
Cover art by Damonza
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The Summoned Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 4) Page 23