Invasion and Dragons

by Jekka Jones

  “Do they have the Wizard’s Seal?” asked Niklas. He drew himself to his full height, his eyes bright and greedy.

  All eyes were fastened on the approaching dragon swarm, then Dre’Goran and his new advisor turned to Landon. Their eyes widened, recognizing the signs of a tamer reacting to his dragon. “Fey’Neran!” Dre’Goran pointed at Landon.

  He didn’t need to say more. The dragoness’ tail came out of nowhere. It shot towards Landon’s feet, but his reflexes were faster now that Sri’Lanca was closing in. He jumped into the air, raking his sword against the tail. The dragoness hissed, not with rage but pleasure. She spread her wings and whipped her tail again. Landon swerved to the side and brought his sword up to parry the spear of scale and muscle racing towards him. The tail recoiled before shooting back to him, and he leapt out of the way. He heard a sword leave its sheath from behind and he spun to meet it.

  Landon expected Dre’Goran, but his sword clashed with Darrin’s. If it weren’t for his twitching muscles, he would have frozen on the spot. He twisted his blade, anticipating the Seer’s downward cut and swept Darrin’s katana to the side.

  “Good, Landon, you have been practicing,” the Seer said. Landon’s skin crawled at the praise.

  “Go to hell!” Landon yelled, and he struck at Darrin. The Seer danced away from him, swinging his sword in a diagonal slash that would’ve sliced through Landon’s arm if he hadn’t jumped aside.

  “Landon!” screamed Sri’Lanca.

  “To the sky!” bellowed Fey’Neran.

  Many pairs of wings churned the air, kicking up dust. Landon coughed, noting that Darrin had stumbled back and was shielding his eyes. The kings, advisors, and soldiers also held arms and hands over their faces. Ignoring the stinging grit, Landon raced towards the center of the landing area. He skittered to a stop, peering through the dust.

  He spotted Sri’Lanca. His dragon was twisting and diving, avoiding claws and tails that tried to snare him. Myra clung to Sri’Lanca’s back. The sight of her sent Landon’s spirits soaring with hope. They were a couple hundred feet above him.

  “Sri’Lanca,” Landon yelled. “Do you ha—”

  A metallic force slammed into him. Pain flared in his chest as he hit the ground with the person on top of him. A gauntlet hand grabbed his sword hand and tried to pry his fingers loose. Landon thrashed, twisting himself from beneath his assailant. The armor tore his clothes and scraped his skin, but he didn’t feel it. As he pulled himself free, he kicked his attacker in the head.

  The heel of his shoe connected with Niklas’ jaw. The Seer grunted. Landon kicked again and the grip on his hand slackened, allowing him to pull himself free. Landon scrambled away and took up a defensive pose. Niklas stood, wiping blood from his mouth, and drew his broadsword. He came at Landon with a scream.

  It had been so long since Landon had faced a Borikan that he almost dropped his katana when the weapons clashed. The shock of the thin blade meeting the thicker one numbed his arms. He staggered back, dodging more than parrying as Niklas pressed forward. He swiped at Landon’s arms and legs, and it was all Landon could do to keep out of the way.

  “Landon, watch your back!” bellowed Sri’Lanca. “Hold on, Myra!”

  Landon chanced a quick glance over his shoulder, and Darrin, Sayre, and Kennin were upon him. The woman and two men fanned around him, their swords seeking a place on his unprotected body. Landon twisted and spun, his katana tracing silver arcs through the air. He forgot about everything else. Terror gripped him, and he reacted by instinct, taking advantage of his heightened reflexes.

  Four on one. Landon had never fought so many at once, yet he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He had to get away before one of those blades found its mark. He tried to break through their circle, but his enemies anticipated his movements. Two swords would come at his torso and legs, forcing him back, or an elbow would come towards his face, and Landon had to duck to the side, allowing one of them to close his escape. Sayre fought as fiercely as the men, and was just as deadly with the heavy Borikan sword as her husband and son. More than once, she foiled his attempts to flee with a well-calculated swing.

  “This is the most fun I have had since coming to this damn country!” Sayre crowed. She knocked Landon’s sword aside and jabbed with her own. The tip caught Landon’s clothes and would’ve punctured the skin if he hadn’t twisted aside. This action carried him right into Darrin.

  Darrin had his sword leveled at Landon’s left thigh. Landon realized he was moving right towards the point and swept with his sword. It caught Darrin’s katana and pushed it away, but Darrin danced with it, twisting until his and Landon’s blades were pointed to the sky. He shoved against Landon’s katana and, with a definite twist, locked the hilts together.

  “No!” Landon yelled with terror. He was done for. He had never learned how to escape this lock, a Borikan’s favorite move. Darrin had insisted he figure it out himself. Landon now realized this gave his former mentor a huge advantage. He shoved and twisted, hoping to break free. Darrin moved with him, twisting his sword and straining Landon’s grip. Darrin laughed. The Borikans came closer, grinning as Landon struggled to escape.

  Escape.

  Landon twisted, and as he did, he scanned his surroundings. The three Borikans were, for the most part, in front of him. In fact, Kennin was directly on his right. He sensed Sri’Lanca coming at him from behind, swooping as low as he could. His dragon was filled with hope.

  Landon realized what he needed to do. Every time he fought this hold, he lost. Instead, he surrendered. He stopped trying to break free and allowed Darrin to twist the blade from his grasp. As he felt the hilt slide through his fingers, he threw himself into Darrin and pushed his sword towards Kennin.

  It worked better and worse than he expected.

  Kennin had been creeping towards Landon, his broadsword at the ready to cut his hamstrings. Landon’s katana sliced through the air and into his neck, skewering his throat with a spurt of blood. Kennin’s eyes widened in surprise. He choked and tried to speak but all he managed was a bloody dribble. He collapsed to the ground; the force of his back striking the earth drove the blade free of his throat. It clattered to the dirt beside him.

  “No!” cried Niklas. He staggered forward, his sword slipping from his fingers. He sank to his knees and pressed his hands to Kennin’s neck. As he watched, Landon knew Niklas’ efforts were futile. Kennin gave a despairing gurgle and fell still—his eyes staring vacantly at the wheeling dragons.

  No one moved. Landon and Darrin stood in shock, staring at the War Chancellor’s body. Sayre was a statue, her blue eyes bulging. An unearthly cry tore from Niklas’ throat. It reminded Landon of his own screams at Eli’s sudden and equally violent death.

  The sound triggered Sayre out of her stupor. Her startled gaze left her husband’s body and found Landon. He watched as shock melted into the hatred equal to a Twin of Heaven. Landon’s courage failed at her expression, and he took a step back.

  Darrin leveled his sword, not at Landon, but at the Seeress. “Sayre,” he said, his voice somewhere between placating and threatening. “We want him alive.”

  Sayre acted as though she didn’t hear. She began to slowly advance, her attention fixed upon Landon. Niklas raised his tear-streaked face to his mother, but he was too choked with grief to say anything. Sayre raised her blade with one hand as though it were nothing and continued her slow walk towards Landon.

  Dre’Goran stepped forward, also placing himself between Landon and the Seer. Issachar did as well, giving Landon a gaze that promised endless suffering. “Sayre—” he began.

  “We have his parents, Jerich!” Sayre snarled. “They will be sufficient.”

  “Sierra is too old to bear children,” Issachar persisted, flexing his hands around his sword. “We need Landon to continue the bloodline.”

  Sayre’s face twisted with rage. She opened her mouth to speak but Sri’Lanca’s cry cut her off.

  “Landon!”

 
; Landon spun towards his dragon’s voice. Sri’Lanca had gotten below the dragon swarm, which was now diving towards him. Their eyes locked, and Landon knew they had a tiny window of opportunity. They didn’t need to vocalize the plan because their emotions spoke for them. Sri’Lanca wasn’t low enough to grab Landon, but that wasn’t the solution to their current situation.

  Landon acted. He bolted towards Sri’Lanca. The nearest soldiers leapt to stop him but Sri’Lanca blasted a stream of fire. The soldiers scattered, beating at themselves to put out the flames. The kings and Seers backed away, shielding their faces with their arms.

  Sri’Lanca blasted more fire, driving the soldiers farther from Landon. The dragon was almost on top of Landon when he yelled, “Now, Myra!”

  Myra raised her left hand. Pinched between thumb and two fingers was the Wizard’s Seal. She had nothing separating her skin from the Seal and her face was contorted with pain. She threw the Seal down, flicking her wrist to give it speed. Landon watched it spin towards the earth, and he sprinted forward. He heard Darrin shout, felt the ground tremble as bodies rushed towards him.

  They were too slow. The Seal was level with his eyes. Landon reached out with both hands and clapped them on either side of the Seal. The surge of power and biting cold in his chest was a relief even if it dulled his connection to Sri’Lanca. Landon twined his fingers through the loops and spun towards the Seers.

  Niklas was racing towards him, his face twisted into a grotesque visage of anger, grief, and determination. His clothing was burning in some places but the Seer didn’t notice. Landon knew he was determined to seize the power from him. Behind the Seer, soldiers were in full sprint. They bellowed war cries, spurred by Niklas’ courage to follow.

  Landon smiled. He waited until Niklas was a few paces away, raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

  The crack of Niklas’ neck breaking reverberated through the air. The Seer pitched forward and rolled. His legs and arms flailed uncontrollably like a rag doll being tossed into the air. He came to a stop a few paces from Landon. His arms and legs stuck out at odd angles, his blue eyes staring sightlessly at Landon. Sayre screamed and collapsed to the ground.

  Landon turned to the soldiers. “Who’s next?” he bellowed.

  The power flared at his words, driven by desperation. Soldiers screamed as they were knocked into each other. Landon spun on the spot, willing the power to obliterate their weapons and armor. Any within sight were enveloped in a cloud of gray dust, and he took immense pleasure in destroying the Seers’ and rulers’ defenses. The soldiers began to retreat but the kings hollered at them to hold their ground.

  “Keep your formation!” Berado cried. “If he escapes then all of our compatriots’ lives will have been in vain!”

  The soldiers bunched up together, standing shoulder to shoulder to create a large circle around Landon and their leaders. They raised their fists and fell into various fighting stances. Their faces were set with determination, yet Landon could see their terror. They knew he was unstoppable now.

  He turned to face the remaining Seers and kings. The kings, advisors, and Darrin stood stiffly in their fine shirts and trousers, watching him. Sayre was a crumpled heap in the earth, staring at her son’s body. Her face drained of all color and tears beaded her eyes.

  Landon gazed at them, his fear gone with the Seal’s power. It felt good to be the powerful one, the one who decided life and death. With a single thought he could end their lives, turn their bodies to dust and let the wind carry their remains away. He wanted to destroy everything from the mountains to his shoes, and everyone in the area. He wanted to kill all the dragons and watch their tamers die. . . .

  “Landon . . .” Darrin began.

  Landon focused on the Seer. “You be quiet!” he hissed. He willed the power to amplify his voice so everyone, including the dragons, could hear. “You will let Sri’Lanca land and tell the Dragon Guard to retreat. You will release my parents and then all of you will leave!”

  His words snapped Sayre out of her shock. She raised her eyes to his, fury mixed with overwhelming grief rising in her features. “You slay my husband and son and expect me to let you go so easily?” she asked. She did not yell or scream, but her tone was chilling.

  She picked herself up, and resumed walking towards Landon. Her features contorted with hate. She wasn’t afraid; she was too grief-stricken to be afraid. “You have taken everything I loved! Not even the God Kings can save you now. What will it be, Landon Dayn? Will you buy your freedom with our blood, or continue this silly heroic stand until I touch you?”

  “I want you all to leave!” He threw the power at Sayre, hoping to constrict her muscles, but it tried to obliterate her whole body. Sayre stumbled, a hand flying to her heart, and a flash of surprise crossed her face. Landon gritted his teeth and redirected the power to push her back among the kings. He didn’t want to give her a quick death. He wanted it to be painful. He wanted her to suffer. . . .

  Sayre looked down at herself, then at Landon. “You murder my husband and son, but not me? Kill me, or I will cause your hands to run with the blood of your father.” She bared her teeth and her eyes filled with hatred. “Every scream, every drop of blood, every shudder of his body will be drawn from your hands. And then I will set you on your mother. Your adopted mother. Myra. Morgan. Juan! The heavens will echo with their screams until I deem my vengeance complete.”

  Landon glared at her. “You forget, Seer, that I have the power. I will make the heavens echo with your screams if you don’t leave right now!”

  “Then do it!” Sayre screamed, her tears breaking loose. “Show me what you are capable of. Show me you are willing to take my life, Wizard Dayn!”

  Her words stung Landon. “I am not a wizard!”

  “How so?” Darrin chimed in. He too began slowly walking towards Landon. “They killed as they pleased. You could have knocked Niklas to the ground, or broken his leg, yet you killed him. You could have done the same with all of our soldiers, but you didn’t. I thought you were better than that, Landon.” He smiled, pleasant and friendly. “It appears that you are nothing more than a selfish man, determined to get what he wants. You are no better than the wizards.”

  “Shut it, Seer!” Landon cried. He willed the power to shove the Seers back, causing them to fall onto their backs. “You told me once that the Wizard’s Seal was my ticket to freedom. Well now I am using it! Release my parents and leave. Do it, or I will make you!”

  “We are past that now,” said Darrin. He got to his feet and helped Sayre to hers. Side by side, Borikan and Samurai Master, the Seers began walking towards him again.

  “Kill us or surrender, Wizard Dayn,” said Sayre. “Those are your only options.”

  “Don’t call me that!” Landon yelled. He sent the power at the Seers, throwing them to the ground, but everyone was walking towards him. The soldiers and kings formed their wide circle around him, bringing it tighter and tighter around him like a noose.

  He wanted to kill them, but too late he realized he shouldn’t have destroyed their armor. The gray dust coated the soldiers’ faces, making it impossible to identify the Dagnorians. He couldn’t kill any of them without risking a dragon’s death. He blasted them away, hoping that would deter them.

  “You really do refuse to kill us,” said Dre’Goran. He dusted his clothes and faced Landon, his eyes shining with mirth. “Did Sri’Lanca make you swear not to kill a tamer or his dragon, Wizard Dayn? It would be like him. That dragon has always worn his heart on his wings.” The Emperor of Dagnor threw out his arms, spreading them wide like wings. “Courage, men! Wizard Dayn may be ruthless when it comes to soldiers, but he doesn’t have the strength to sever a bond!”

  The soldiers laughed, no longer afraid but trusting in Dre’Goran’s words. They linked their arms and strolled towards Landon. They began whispering “Wizard Dayn,” challenging him to strike them down with his god-like power.

  He blasted them away a second time, hoping to form
an escape route. It failed. The soldiers quickly got to their feet, and relinked their arms. He willed the power to freeze their muscles, but, as with Sayre, the power wanted to turn them to dust. He could kill them or . . . No. He wasn’t going to resort to that. He could get out of this!

  Landon blasted them back a third time, but everyone picked themselves up and came at him again. He screamed, furious that they kept coming. The murmur of “Wizard Dayn” rankled him, reminding him of how the wizards came into being in the first place.

  He hated the wizards. His life was hell because of them. If they hadn’t sought power, if they hadn’t slaughtered dragons and humans, his parents wouldn’t have suffered eighteen years at the Drakshus’ mercy. He wouldn’t have killed a Borikan Twin, his country wouldn’t have been invaded, and Eli wouldn’t have died.

  The two Seers and kings circled Landon, drawing closer and closer with each step. All of their expressions promised years of pain and suffering. Darrin was ten feet from him, and Sayre was opposite of him. She stepped over her son’s body, her eyes devoid of mercy. They raised their right arms, fingers spread to touch any part of Landon’s skin.

  As the Seers approached with outstretched hands, Landon lowered his upraised arm and looked at the Wizard’s Seal. It burned pleasantly against his skin, warming his fingers as the bond froze his chest.

  Darrin was right. The only way to stop the Seers was to kill them. Them and the kings. Even if he killed just the Seers, managed to free his parents and escape, nothing would change. He couldn’t hide because the world now knew his secret. If any Seers existed, lying in wait for the outcome of this war, they would come for him. He would be forced to use the power, forced to let it dull his morality and connection to his dragon.

  He would never be free so long as the Wizard’s Seal existed.

  Darrin was drawing near, his dark eyes glittering with excitement.

  Landon turned his gaze to the dragons overhead. Sri’Lanca was rolling and twisting in the air with Myra clinging to his back, trying to get low enough to grab his tamer. He wondered if she would still like flying after all this.