The world according to d.., p.30
The World According to Dragons 3, page 30
“Let me know when I should summon Vendir,” Princess Embla said.
Preshka stepped forward, the white fox’s seven tails all held upright. “Before you do, you must open the portal to the Realm of the Forgotten. That is the surprise attack that will destroy Jecha’s focus.”
“Very well.” Ariosto produced the strange satchel that they had received in the Harvest Mountains. He opened it carefully and the golden gemstones floated out. Hovering them, Ariosto pushed the gemstones to a point overhead, about ten feet up, where they grew in luminosity.
The gemstones spun, faster and faster until they ultimately collided in the center. This produced a shimmering glitter of dragonessence that rushed upward, scattering toward the clouds.
“That’s it?” Vradon asked, his hands trembling.
“It will be any moment now,” Preshka said.
The entire world seemed to quake as purple lightning crackled, splitting the dark clouds. The sky above the battlefield churned as a turbulent vortex of silver and green took shape. Reality itself folded backward, the seam of existence undone, the skyscape untethered. A dark abyss formed at the center of the dazzling vortex, one flashing with bolts of dragonessence and prismatic light that pulsed and twitched.
“I’ll go,” Adventus said as he changed into his vordic form. “Someone must instruct them. They’ll know who I am!” He took to the sky, his enormous serpentine body slithering higher as if he were on land. Seondzus bristled, as if she wanted to join her counterpart, but she ultimately stayed in her dragon warrior form as the portal continued to roil with power.
Twillo looked to Princess Embla, who shook, his oldest friend holding her wrist with her other hand. She bowed, as if she was making some pact with herself, and summoned Vendir. He appeared directly behind her and stretched his wings. The white dragon tilted his head up toward the vortex, one that had caused great winds to whip over the future battlefield. Once the princess was mounted, Vendir took to the sky.
“Let’s go to the top,” Ariosto said as he pointed up the hill.
They reached the top just as the portal’s edge started to shiver. Like a cascade of falling stars, dragons poured forth from the celestial portal. Ethereal flames flickered off their bodies as they continued to press through the open skygate. They were met by Adventus, who valiantly floated in front of the arriving dragons.
It was only a few moments later that the dragons all shifted to face Jecha’s forces, all of whom scrambled to address the inevitable.
More dragonessence flared around Ariosto’s fists. “Are we ready?”
“I think we are,” Twillo said as he activated his dragonaura through the mudra. “Livia, with us.”
Ariosto nodded. “Livia is here. She is here, her robes are behind our every move. Let’s go! This is our chance!”
Twillo beat back the elven orcs with Firebreath, which ignited parts of their armor. A few pushed through the mana-fire and came in swinging, only to encounter Adventus and Seondzus. The two dragon warriors cleared through some of the ranks until Jecha’s own dragon warriors appeared on the scene, the epic clash imminent.
Adventus batted his glaive at an incoming assailant and managed to knock a sword away. His staggering opponent followed up with a technique similar to Firebreath. Ducking the next attempt, Adventus swung through the flames with his glaive and was met by a mana-powered shield that had appeared on his opponent’s arm. A Brethren assassin tried for him and Adventus struck him down with his fist, instantly killing the man.
Flash of Fata Morgana disoriented an incoming group of grunts. Twillo cleared through them as the men and women tried to get their bearings, his sword drawing wounds and death. He needed to find Jecha, but had yet to see the God of Carnage in the pandemonium that had ensued since the release of the dragons.
Above, the collisions in the sky mirrored the clash on the hardtop.
Dragons laid down fire, the fight soon defined by intense plumes and sizzling heat interspersed with cries of agony. Yet the skies had enemy dragons as well, who swept into the ranks of the good dragons. Occasionally, one of the dragons would fall out of the air, which would smash into the forces below, killing more of Jecha’s men.
Where was the God of Carnage?
Twillo ducked under a sword and came up with a spinning cross-slash that cut his opponent down. Another tried to run him down but was thwarted by Ariosto, who throat-chopped the man, flashed behind him, and struck the man so hard in the small of his back that Twillo was fairly certain he had killed him.
“Any sign of Jecha?” Twillo asked.
“Not yet, but be prepared for—”
Ariosto didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence.
Zombie Katashi and Anneli stood before the two of them, their wristlets glowing.
“You’ve come far enough,” Katashi said, only his voice wasn’t his own. It was the voice of Jecha.
Katashi summoned Nalig the dragon, who tried to fight his influence but quickly came under Jecha’s spell. Anneli did the same with Ramide, the towering, horned dragon instantly taking to the sky.
Ramide slammed into a smaller dragon, one that had been released from the portal, grabbed it in his huge jaw, and tore it in half. The top of the dragon’s body fell right in front of Twillo and Ariosto just as Adventus and Seondzus stepped up, their blades at the ready.
“We have no other choice, relic hunter,” Seondzus told him. She transformed to her vordic form and bolted upward, the red dragon twisting toward Ramide.
“Do what must be done, left-handed one,” Adventus told Twillo as he too morphed into his vordic form. He raced toward Seondzus with plans to aid her in her fight against Ramide. Nalig the green dragon, who had been hovering over Katashi, took off as well.
Twillo and Ariosto exchanged glances. “Which would you prefer?” the warrior monk asked.
“Neither.”
“In that case, I will take Katashi. He will prove formidable.”
Princess Embla flew overhead and dropped to the ground. She was up on her feet in a matter of moments, now holding her dagger. “We have to,” she told Twillo as she fired a searing shot of dragonessence, one that struck Anneli in the shoulder.
As much as it pained Twillo to attack his former companions, he knew that it was necessary. They were dead, and Jecha was merely controlling their bodies. This also meant that they fought like they were possessed, Anneli moving faster than Twillo had ever seen her move before. She was on Princess Embla in a matter of seconds, Embla narrowly missing her opening strike.
Zombie Anneli kicked the princess to the side and came for Twillo, who blocked her next attack. He could feel her intensity, which was at odds with her empty black eyes.
Anneli seemed to sneer at him as she twisted to the side and drove her sword directly into Twillo’s chest. At least that was where her sword would have turned up had it not been for the armor that he had taken from the pocket realm. The chestplate protected Twillo, her forward trajectory causing her to stumble. Twillo brought his sword around, yet was unable to finish her off for good as he was hit by a stray bolt of dragonessence.
The blast sent him tumbling backward, straight into a pile of fallen soldiers.
He pushed himself out from the pile just as Nalig released a plume of fire overhead, one meant for Twillo. After rolling out of the way, Twillo used Core Eruption to charge a helmet that he just so happened to pick up. As Nalig came in again, he prepared to chuck the helmet directly at the green dragon. He waited until she was just close enough that she wouldn’t be able to change her flight path and released the charged helmet.
The explosion tore through her wing and caused the dragon to sail toward the ground. Twillo looked up just as a large shadow came over him.
He started to run, and ultimately used Dragonflight to catapult himself away from Ramide, who struck the ground, a victim of Adventus and Seondzus’ concentrated attacks.
Twillo had no time to see how they had done, or what had become of the two dragons. Anneli had already started engaging him again, the elven orc swinging her sword with the intensity of a berserker. “You’ll never win,” he told her, a message for Jecha. “You have failed.”
The words caused Anneli’s eyes to twitch, the woman seething by the point she came in again for another attack. She swung at who she thought was Twillo, her sword going straight through his body, and found out the hard way that the real Twillo had used Enchanting Deception to conjure a replica.
After landing behind her through the power of Dragonflight, Twillo put all of his force into his next strike, one that saw Anneli’s head leaving her body.
He thought he was done, that the gruesome decapitation would have done the trick, but then Anneli’s headless body turned to Twillo and brought her sword up.
“By Livia—”
Seondzus swooped down, grabbed Anneli with her claws, and careened upward before Twillo could say anything else. The red dragon spiraled back toward the ground with Anneli in her claws. Seondzus dropped her at the last second, the splatter that followed enough to make Twillo look away.
“Sorry for that,” Seondzus said as she hovered before Twillo. She was huffing now, and looked injured. “I’ll give the cat man a claw as well. He could use it.”
The red dragon moved toward zombie Katashi. She whipped her body into him, caught the kitsune, and zipped into the air. She came down fast and slammed Katashi’s body against the ground, causing another unceremonious death.
Twillo knew not to look at it this way, yet the notion did cross his heart for a moment. He quickly got his bearings, locked eyes with Ariosto, and moved deeper into the fight.
A group of elven orcs charged toward Twillo and Ariosto with their glaives pointed at them.
“Come on!” the warrior monk shouted. Ariosto used Voidshift to absorb the first strike that reached him. Twillo moved around him and knocked another of the weapons out of the way. Ariosto followed this up with a kick that produced a wave of dragonessence. It knocked the group back, revealing someone in the midst of battle.
Jecha was heading their way. The God of Carnage wore his tattered robes over thick black armor. Covering his face was a new helm, one shaped like that of a dragon’s skull and lined with sharp protrusions that curved in random directions.
“Go!” Ariosto told Twillo. “I will lead him to you.”
“We will help,” Adventus said as he swooped over Twillo. He torpedoed to the ground, now in his dragon form. Seondzus did the same.
“Good luck, relic hunter!” Seondzus said as she brought her sword up and prepared to charge Jecha.
Dragonflight sent Twillo up and over the flight.
He hit the mudra again, moving like a grasshopper toward the pocket shelter. Confusion came to him upon his next landing. Twillo didn’t know exactly where he was now in relation to the pocket shelter. The fog of war was too thick, the sky a mess of dragons as Twillo fumbled to get his Pathweaver’s Compass out.
His heart jumped when a white dragon swooped overhead and grabbed Twillo by hooking its claws under his armor. Twillo nearly thrust his sword up in a desperate attempt to stop the dragon when he heard Embla’s voice.
“We have you, Jhaeros!” she called down to him.
Even as he whisked through the air over the fight, shock roiling through him, Twillo managed a sigh of relief.
He just needed to get the trap ready.
Vendir reached the pocket shelter and dropped Twillo beside it. Much to his surprise, Princess Embla landed. She turned to him.
“Your Grace?” Twillo started to ask as she stepped forward and kissed his cheek. She placed her hand on his waist, their eyes locked.
“Jhaeros, you know what must be done.”
Princess Embla’s eyes never watered; she never showed any sign that she felt this would be the last time she would see him. There was defiance in her gaze, there always was, but there was also love, and Twillo could sense it in that moment. Whatever hesitation she’d had earlier was gone.
He felt a tremor in his chest; her genuine affection for Twillo transported him away from the battlefield. It was something he wouldn’t soon forget. Not only was he doing this for the Four Kingdoms, for the three friends he had lost, he was doing this for his future.
Their future together.
“I will be back, Emmy,” he said, almost as an afterthought. “And we will destroy the pocket shelter after. Have Vendir ready.”
“I will be ready,” the white dragon assured him.
“Go,” Embla told Twillo, “and make sure Vradon lives as well. Our court will need a Keeper of Wisdom.”
“Can I get another kiss before I go?” he asked, the words leaving his lips before he could fully process how bad his timing was considering they were on the outskirts of an active warzone.
“No, but you can after.” Embla floated up to her dragon. “Livia is with you.”
Twillo watched the dragon take to the sky. “Livia is with us all,” he said before turning to the pocket shelter. Rather than take the ladder, Twillo hovered down to the bottom to find Vradon pacing near the edge of the platform.
“How is it going up there?” the monk asked, squinting upward. “All I can hear is dragons roaring and swords clashing.”
“Sounds about right,” Twillo said. “And as to how it’s going, everything should come to a head soon. Are you ready?”
“I will do what I must.”
“Are you sure? You can head up now, before Jecha comes. It will be safer. The princess needs her Keeper of Wisdom more than she needs a disgruntled former saracent turned relic hunter out of Sparrow’s Rise.”
“Prince Ravenna is an important role as well, Jhaeros, and Keeper of Wisdom is a title that is earned.” A rare darkness formed on his face. “I will earn it today, and your name will be renewed. For the kingdoms.”
“For the kingdoms.” Twillo crouched in front of the large stone at the center of the platform to prepare the trap.
.Chapter Twenty-Eight.
Done and Dusted
The wait was excruciating. There were several times that Twillo thought about heading up and checking on Ariosto and the dragons, making sure the trap was in motion. Yet he remained, mostly because of Vradon, who always sensed that the relic hunter was itching to leave.
“We have to stick to the plan, Jhaeros,” the monk would say. “It is the only way. Ariosto will make it happen. If anyone can do it, it’s him.”
“The only way, the only way,” Twillo said under his breath as his eyes traced over the large stone in the center of the platform, the one he’d charged with Warding Glyph.
“The places we find ourselves,” Vradon told him at some point, after what felt like days had passed on the platform, their fates postponed.
“That isn’t the first time you’ve said that.”
“If ever I was to get a tattoo, that would be a good one.”
“In Old Sagic?” Twillo asked.
“Why not Modern Sagic?”
“Because the old script looks better.” Twillo brought his hand to the tattoo on his neck, the one directly behind his ear. He remembered getting in E’Kanth at the start of all this, in the days before binding souls with Adventus. He lowered his hand to his chest, where the names Anneli, Olaf, and Katashi were written vertically. His newest work.
Twillo heard some commotion above. He squinted up at the opening as a dragon he didn’t recognize flew overhead.
“Friend or foe?”
“It’s hard to tell with the dragons,” he told Vradon. “But we should be ready.”
“Jecha lands, I distract him momentarily, and you push him over the side. Or the other way around,” Vradon reminded Twillo.
“Or you just stay back and let’s see if I can’t take care of this. If I am forced to make the ultimate sacrifice, give my utmost apologies to Emmy.”
“Emmy? Her Highness? Yes, wait. No. No, you absolutely are—” Vradon huffed. “Why are you saying this now? Don’t say this now, Jhaeros! That is not part of the plan.”
“Because—”
Twillo and Vradon heard the sounds of a struggle above. This was followed by Jecha’s voice, which seemed to amplify into the space of the pocket shelter.
“Where is he!?” he screamed.
Twillo watched a shadow move over the pocket shelter, one that belonged to Ariosto. The warrior monk pointed down into the shelter.
Twillo tapped his knuckles together, activating his dragonaura. “Here it comes.”
“Then I will deal with you next,” Jecha said. A wave of force struck Ariosto before he could use Voidshift, freezing the warrior monk in place.
Jecha approached the pocket shelter, his torn robes beating in the wind over the opening. He peered down into it and lowered instantly. He stood before Twillo, the wolfish grin on his face mostly disguised by his grotesque helm.
Before Jecha could say anything else, Twillo struck him in the chest with a blast of dragonessence. This caused the God of Carnage to stumble backward, his heel hitting the rock that Twillo had charged. The explosion that followed pushed Jecha to the right, just a few feet away from the edge of the platform.
Twillo activated Voidshift, the power tracing through him.
Jecha twisted and brought his sword in Twillo’s direction. This produced a wave of power that would have tossed Twillo over the other side of the platform had it not been for Voidshift. Twillo’s heels ground into the stone surface, yet he held strong, Jecha’s first strike completely absorbed.
Jecha sneered. “The cat-man has trained you well, but it will all be in vain. I didn’t believe him when he’d said you were hiding in here. But I see that you are a coward as well. A true Icenordian coward.”
Twillo hit him with Ripple Tide, which seemed to pass right over his assailant’s shoulders. The God of Carnage rushed forward with a strike.
