War Dragons

by C. K. Rieke

  Garrond cleared his throat, and his glare hardened. “My son—the prince—was taken too soon as well. Under the attack by Dânoz, we haven’t had time to grieve the death of our future king. Thus, begins seven days of grieving in this city. There will be no more celebrations after this night for our victory, only celebrations of the lives that are no longer with us. We will honor them with their memories.”

  He took a deep breath. “Now,” Garrond looked around, and seemed concerned with something, so he turned to his side to one of his disciples and beckoned them to do something. Which, seeing this, they ran off back behind the curtain, and servers promptly appeared holding silver platters of freshly cooked meats and fluffy rice with an aromatic sauce that smelled of cumin. “Now, we will talk about our victory—or victor—rather. She came to us from Voru, which itself was under siege not long ago. She saved that city, with the help of her friends and serpentine risen.”

  As people began to serve themselves from the platters laid before them on the tables, many began to applaud. Kera clapped loudly, staring at Lilaci.

  “She has traveled far, farther than any of us have walked the sands, and though she may look beyond her years to our eyes, our hearts can see her true beauty. Along her path, she’s been afflicted with the curse of a pixie, and for that I am sorry, and you will be in our prayers. Now, she sits and dines with us in my hall—savior of our great city of Scindír—Lilaci the Lazarine, Bearer of the Sanzoral, this celebration is for you.”

  He bowed his head to her, and the room exploded in another burst of applause and exhilaration.

  Lilaci looked around nervously, but the excitement did seem to make her forget about her pain. She felt a nudge on the shoulder. Looking over she saw Fewn brushing her arm against her. “Get up, stupid,” she said. “They want to see you bow.”

  Lilaci didn’t want any further acknowledgment, but saw the joy in Kera’s eyes. Fine. She stood from where she sat at the table, and everyone rose after her, and the excitement in the room doubled. More whistling, yelling and clapping shot out.

  “Here,” Fewn said, grabbing Lilaci by the arm, “get up here.” And Lilaci stood up on the bench so all could see. She gave a shy wave. Then she looked up to the king, who stood clapping too, she bowed her head, and he bowed back. Then she sat back down, and all others did the same quickly.

  The hall went to ravaging the feast laid before them and sipped down wine in gulps.

  “Lilaci has had a hard life, as many of us in this room have, not the least of which is the incredibly cute and strong girl seated before us, Kera—the once infamous Dragon’s Breath. Both as girls were forced to live lives with a true mother or father. Indeed, the Scaethers have done much evil upon our sands. They killed people, innocent of any charge. They hunted Kera relentlessly for the short years of her life. They killed and tortured Lilaci’s own mother—a horrific crime, and that was only one of the thousands of such moments of sadness. It’s a history we can’t forget. We even have one of the most notorious commanders of the Scaethers here, sitting before us, and sitting next to Kera. To whatever magic that caused your mind to find that road to light, I give praise.”

  The king stood once more, and Lilaci’s eyes shot to him, sensing something important coming.

  “Lilaci, Kera, Fewn, Gogenanth, Veranor,” he said in a grand voice that rang out. “You have all suffered in your own ways, and you have saved two great cities. For that I wish I could give you what you desire most, which seems to be the death of the gods that caused you such pain. This I cannot do, and for that, I am sorry. But this... I can give you.” A stir rippled through the crowd.

  He looked deeply into her eyes, his normally beady, dark eyes showed a gentleness, and even a sense of remorse.

  “The gods created the Scaethers for their own protection, in their own fears of someone such as Kera awakening. And here she is now, a girl who could just as easily be happy in a small home, here in my own city if she wasn’t born with your pale skin and distinct hairline. You’ve lived lives of loss and sorrow because of the gods. So my first gift to you...”

  Fewn’s hand outstretched and gripped Lilaci’s hand tightly, and Lilaci couldn’t look away from the king.

  “From this moment forward... the group known as the Scaethers of the Arr is disbanded.”

  A sense of shock rolled through the room, and many sat stunned with their mouths agape.

  “The Scaethers have been a tradition of the three kingdoms for generations,” he said, with his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. “And we were never given the luxury to question their existence, for the gods deemed their pack as one of the backbones of the traditions of these lands. No more. I have spoken with Queen Lezeral, King Borr, and Queen Borr, and the Scaethers will be set free. They will be given the chance to live as free men and women. They will be invited to join the armies of the three cities, but they will be treated as equals. That’s not to say they have not committed awful crimes, but those were orders handed down by the gods themselves. So, the Scaethers will go through a difficult process in which we will determine their ability to enter into the public, but that is a problem we, as your rulers, will undertake with our best ability.”

  “The Scaethers are done,” Lilaci said to herself. She turned and looked to Veranor who looked to be at the brink of tears. “Is this real?” Even Gogenanth folded his arms over his chest, hefting his shoulders back, trying to brush off the emotion welling in his eyes.

  “It’s over,” Fewn said to Lilaci, and she was already wiping the tears from her eyes. “I... I don’t know what to say... I’m speechless for once.” She laughed.

  Lilaci looked down to Kera, who had her face planted in her hands on the table, and her shoulders were bustling up and down as she cried. Lilaci got up and went over to sit next to her, wrapping her arm around her. Kera sat up and cried into Lilaci, who ran her fingers down her hair. “It’s OK, little one, it's all over. The Order of Drakon is finally safe, they don’t have to walk the sands anymore. They can finally find a place to call home.” Kera didn’t reply, but only continued weeping. Lilaci looked up to see everyone in the crowd staring at her. She looked over and even saw a tear run down Veranor’s cheek.

  “I know I cannot undo the pain that has been caused to you,” the king said, “but I can do my best to make sure it never happens again to anyone, to any child ever again.”

  “Thank you,” Lilaci mouthed up to the king. “Thank you.”

  “One more gift I give,” he said, “and this is more symbolic than anything, but I wish to do this, if not more for my own pleasure, but you have all earned it.”

  Lilaci didn’t know what else King Garrond could be gifting them with, and her heart was so full from his last announcement that whatever came next was just a silver lining.

  “You’ve all come so far in your lives,” he said, moving his hand behind his back and sticking his chest out. “And you choose to press on still, to fight for all of us, for all my people, and all the people of the Arr. You are leaders of man, you are heroes, whether you define yourselves as such or not. You were born to be nameless soldiers for the gods: assassins and killers. And look at what you’ve done, you’ve changed everything. For that, you will be given names to be remembered by.”

  “What’s he talking about?” Gogenanth whispered into Lilaci’s ear.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “You may have grown to despise the ones in society who looked down upon you, the ones who were heralded as better than you, and for that you were never given surnames.”

  Lilaci quickly looked over to Veranor, whose eyes were glassy, and fixed completely upon the king.

  “The gods deprived you of a name, if for no other reason than to simply make you feel like less than others, to make you feel as if you only had one purpose in life. But hear me now when I say you have great purpose, and after you are done, you will have any path in life you wish. There’s so much joy that can be found out in these lands, and you’ll be
free to live your years however you wish.”

  The audience was silent as the king’s words echoed from his strong voice in the chamber.

  “Commander Veranor, please rise,” the king said. Lilaci looked at him, as he appeared to be in a state of shock and unsurety for the first time in his life.

  “You heard the king,” she said to him with a smile, and he rose slowly with his face grown pale. “I heard the late King Gofgenden had wished to give you a surname in the past, before his murder by Gorlen.” Veranor clenched his jaw, trying to keep his lips from quivering, and he began to sweat. “That name was to be given to you after you brought back the Dragon’s Breath for a malicious deed, but instead... I bestow it upon you for doing what you felt was right in your heart.”

  Veranor raised his hand to itch his nose, but Lilaci knew he was trying to keep from crying.

  “I name you Veranor Sepherophinos, first of your name. Your sins have been absolved, and you are a free man.”

  Tears welled up in Veranor’s eyes, and he bowed his head to the king.

  “Fewn,” the king said. “Please rise.”

  Fewn looked at Lilaci. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to hold it together.”

  “You don’t have to,” Lilaci said. “Enjoy this.”

  “There is a journal kept in Sorock,” he said. “For all the heartless atrocities they committed acting in Dânoz’s name, they were calculated and methodical. And even though they were never instructed to do this, there was always one who was charged with writing down the names of those ones who were murdered when the young Lu-Polini were taken from their families.”

  Fewn covered her mouth with both hands quickly, and she began to cry.

  They did what? They kept records of the names of our mothers and fathers? I remember my brother and sister’s names, but I’ve haven’t known my own mother’s name in so long...

  “In this generation,” he said, “Elan, your own instructor was the one who kept this log, and I’ve requested it from Voru, and it arrived just this day.”

  The disciple walked out from behind the curtain behind the king and handed it to him. It was a book in pristine condition with a cover of red leather with cream-colored pages with gold tips.

  “If it pleases you, I’d like to give you the surname that was your mother’s name.”

  Fewn’s eyes were wide and wet, as the tears streamed down her face. She nodded.

  He opened the book and thumbed through the pages. “Fewn, I name you then, Fewn Astolia, a free woman of the Arr.”

  “Thank you,” she said with her hands in front of her lips, pressed together as if she were praying. “Thank you so much.” Then she sat.

  “Gogenanth,” the king then said. “Please rise.”

  He looked around at the others unsure of what exactly to do, but Lilaci nodded to him. “Your turn.” She smiled. He took a deep breath, with his chest heaving out and then in, and he stood. Clearing his throat, and hefting his shoulders back, he stood with both hands behind his back.

  We’ve all lost much and gone through even more being born the way we were. But has Gogenanth truly even had a home ever since he was taken?

  “Gogenanth,” the king said. “You may be one of the Arr’s most missed brethren. I’ve heard tales of your travels, but the mother of the sands wept when you left. Your strength and courage would have been a welcome asset to your motherland. I regret what happened to you, and I’ll admit, I’m still quite baffled how you were able to escape Sorock—the only one to do so since its inception.” The king paused, seemingly wanting an answer.

  “Determination,” he replied, in a deep tone, and with conviction.

  The king nodded with a hint of a smile. “If it pleases you, I would gift you with the surname of your father.

  Gogenanth looked down at his feet as he shifted his feet out wide, and inhaled deeply again, letting the breath out with a forceful exhale. He nodded, closing his eyes, as if to prepare himself.

  The king thumbed back a couple of pages, and ran his finger down a page, looking up at him then. “From this moment on, you will be known as Gogenanth... Oh, wait, I see... ” Gogenanth’s eyes went wide. “It appears here you are the... third of your name.”

  “My father’s name was Gogenanth,” he said, “and... I had a grandfather?” He didn’t fight the tears welling up in his eyes.

  “Yes,” the king said. “And since neither had a surname, I will offer you the name of your mother, if you wish.”

  Gogenanth let the tears roll down his face, still with his hands behind his back. Lilaci had never seen him like that. It both warmed her heart and broke it. He closed his eyes, letting the tears break free, and he nodded.

  “Then I name you Gogenanth Estrellas, first of your name, returned child and free man of the Arr.”

  Gogenanth still held his chest out and bowed his head to the king. “Thank you, my king.” He sat, clearing his throat. He picked up the linen napkin from the table and wiped his face clear of tears. Ezmerelda leaned over and locked her arms around his arm with a smile, kissing his shoulder. He looked down at her with a warm smile. “Her name was Estrellas. I know my mother’s name.”

  “Lilaci,” the king said. “Please rise.”

  I don’t know if I’m ready for this. But my heart wants nothing more.

  Lilaci stood, and as her hands began to shake, she put them behind her back. “King Garrond.” She bowed.

  “To the best the Arr has to offer,” he said with a wink, “I wish there was more I could give you, but I hope you will be pleased with this.”

  Lilaci felt two hands grab hers. One was Fewn’s who held her hand in-between them, and the other was Kera’s, who did the same. She saw a rare joy in their eyes that brought the emotions erupting through her soul.

  I can still picture it, albeit blurrily. The Scaethers tore into my tent in the middle of that cold night, he killed my father with a smile. I still remember the dead look in my father’s eyes when he fell to the sand. I will forever be cursed with the sound of my mother in that tent after they took me.

  Lilaci began to sob loudly, and she felt weak in the knees, collapsing to her side. Kera stood and grabbed her to sit her back down on the bench, and the king flinched at the sudden commotion. Lilaci sat with her hands over her face.

  “I miss them so much,” she cried. “And I haven’t known their names most of my life. I’m sorry, King Garrond, just give me a moment to collect myself.” Lilaci removed her hands from her face and took a deep breath to clear her emotions, but when she opened her eyes, the king was standing in front of her with his hands extended out to her. She was surprised, but she took his hands, and he helped her up to her feet.

  The room was deadly quiet, as not a single person stirred, they only watched as if in a trance.

  “I’m sorry the gods took your parents and family from you. They took mine from me too, this much we have in common. If I could go to the land of Arralyn and take our revenge myself I would, but I lack the powers needed to fight the gods. In this you have my thanks. Strike them down for me. Strike them down mercilessly for all of us. The Arr thirsts for revenge, and it is only you that can quench that thirst, with their blood.”

  “I will do my best,” she said with her chin raised.

  “I know you will. Now, if it pleases you, I shall continue.”

  She nodded, taking one of her hands back from him and placing it over her mouth to hide her quivering lips, and the tears rolled back down her cheeks, dripping onto her chest.

  He smiled, “Then I name you...”

  Her hand shook as she pressed her fingers against her lips. She felt as if she was about to collapse, her heart was racing, her palms were sweating, and the king was growing foggy past wet eyes.

  “I name you... Lilaci... Lilaci Rosa.”

  Rosa? My mother’s name was Rosa? What a lovely name. My mother... She choked back the tears. I still remember my mother’s face. Rosa. What a beautiful name. I love you Mom, and I m
iss you.

  “You are no longer the Weapon of the Gods. I hereby name you the first of your name, and free woman of the Arr.” He gave a kind nod, as if motioning for her to be seated, which she was about to do. Then she paused.

  “King Garrond,” she asked, with tears still wetting her face. “My father, would you be so kind as to tell me my father’s name?”

  He nodded with a smile, “I was going to surprise you with that in the morning as well...” His grin widened. “Your father’s name was Gilliad.”

  Father, Gilliad. I’m sorry for not being strong enough to save you, or Mother, or Elka and Darig. Please forgive me, and someday I’ll see you in the Great Realm in the Sky to tell you I’m sorry. I’ll avenge you. I promise you that. I’ll avenge your deaths. I swear it.

  Lilaci sat, rubbing her eyes clear, and Fewn put her arm around her back. They leaned into each other.

  “I still can’t believe it.” Fewn wiped tears from Lilaci’s face with a linen cloth. “This just feels like a dream, and I don’t want to wake up.” Lilaci only stared blankly past the king, but she noticed he was moving over another step.

  “Kera,” he said. “Please rise.”

  Oh, he’s going to address her now... Looking over at Kera as she stood, her face looked as collected and calm as she’d ever been. Every one of them at the brink of tears standing before the king, but here she was, this girl, standing before a king, as solidly as the king himself. That’s my girl.

  “Kera,” he said holding his hands out for her to take, which she didn’t, instead leaving her hands at her sides. He nodded to her. “Very well... The Dragon’s Breath, until only recently I was one of the people who hunted you. That is an undeniable truth, and I was wrong to be involved in such evil, and if you wish to refuse my apology and friendship I understand completely. But I will tell you what I wish to say anyway. For a king has the right to such a request in his own kingdom.”