A Dawn of Dragonfire

ELETHOR



He stood in the wine cellar, arms crossed and head lowered, staring at the cobbled floor where centuries of boots had trodden. Dozen of oak caskets rose around him, holding wine from Requiem's vineyards. If we go to siege, he thought, at least we can get royally drunk before the Tirans break down our doors.

He had chosen this cellar as his war room. My father ruled among columns of marble and gold; I think caskets of wine are a far wiser choice for a king. He did not know how long he'd live to rule. Perhaps future poets would sing of the Drunk King—Elethor Aeternum who was crowned in darkness, reigned from a wine cellar, and died the next day.

He sighed and turned around. Lyana and Mori stood there, staring at him with solemn eyes. Their ancient codices lay on a scarred table between rolled-up maps, mugs of wine, daggers, and a helmet. Around them stood the rest of his inner council: Lord Deramon, a bloody bandage covering his neck; Mother Adia, her eyes solemn and her white robes splashed with blood; and their son, Bayrin, ash in his red hair and fire in his green eyes.

They want me to fight, Elethor thought. Even Mori. He couldn't help it; he laughed bitterly.

"You can't be serious," he said and slapped the old books. "A magical disk that can extinguish sunfire? A Starlit Demon? My nurse told me such stories at bedtime—until I was about nine and stopped believing them."

Bayrin raised an eyebrow and whistled. "Well, there's a trick. I never believed in phoenixes either, until about ten thousand of them nearly burned my backside to a crisp." He clutched the hilt of his sword. "I don't know if this Stardisk or Moonlight Demon are real, but I'd rather go find a fairytale than surrender to your old flame, El—literally an old flame, in this case."

Face still ashy from the battle, Lyana glared at her brother. "It's the Moondisk and the Starlit Demon, you dolt. And it's not about what you'd rather do. It's about our best chance of saving lives. You might want to go on some adventure in the great outdoors, not caring if the Tirans kill us all in the meanwhile, but I'm sure Elethor cares." She looked at him and sighed. "At least I hope you do, El."

He looked into her green eyes and saw the fear in them. They were all afraid, he knew, even grizzled Lord Deramon.

What would my father do? Elethor thought. What would Orin do? They would rally the troops. They would never surrender. They would fight at all costs. He closed his eyes. And they are dead, while I survived.

He dug his fingernails into his palms. It wasn't fair. He didn't want to be king. He didn't want to make these decisions. He had never asked for this, for any of this! He was only Elethor, the young prince, the sculptor. How did he end up here, bearing the yoke of monarchy, his people depending on him, waiting for his decree? He opened his eyes and looked at them, one by one. A gruff warrior. A priestess. A friend. A betrothed. A sister.

He let his eyes linger on Mori, his dearest love, the last living member of his family. She stared back at him, eyes soft and damp, face so pale. She was a frail, pretty thing, and more than anything Elethor wanted to protect her. If I surrender to Solina, what would become of my sister? Of Lyana and Adia? Of the other women who hide in these tunnels? Elethor was no soldier, but he knew enough of war and conquest. Solina's men would plunder our halls, eat our food, ravage our women. They would spare our lives, but they would make those lives miserable.

And what of him? If he accepted Solina's offer, he would need travel south with her, rule by her side in Tiranor. She still loved him; he'd seen that in her eyes, felt it in her kiss. He could rule there with her, feel those kisses a million times, make love to her like in the old days, forever be with the woman he'd spent seven years sculpting and missing and craving.

And meanwhile, my people would suffer in chains. He shook his head. No. He could not allow it. Even if it tore his soul, even if meant giving up Solina forever, he would fight for Mori. For Lyana. For his people.

"What do you choose, my king?" Mother Adia asked. She stared at him, her eyes deep and penetrating. "Sunrise looms and you must decree."

Elethor stared back at her, though her eyes felt deep as midnight sky, stronger than steel, as wise as the true dragons of old. More than ever, he was struck by how different Adia was from her daughter. Lyana was free and fast as fire, while Adia was like an ancient forest, wise and full of secrets.

He spoke softly. "Solina and her men wore crystals around their necks. When they shifted into humans, their phoenix fire seemed to flow into those amulets. I've heard stories of the Griffin Heart, the magical amulet that once tamed the griffins. I've heard stories of the Animating Stones, glowing gems that let the tyrant Dies Irae animate corpses and send them to war. I thought those only stories, legends, but… if Solina found amulets of fire, perhaps all those legends are true. Magic is real. Who's to say the Moondisk or the Starlit Demon are not?" He took a deep breath, struggling to calm the turmoil inside him. For the memory of the dead. For the living. For Requiem. "Let us find these weapons… and let us fight."

Bayrin slammed his fist into his palm. "Stars yeah! We fight."

Lyana stared at him solemnly, hand on her sword. "We fight," she whispered.

"We fight," whispered Mori, face pale but eyes staring steadily.

Lord Deramon nodded and clenched his fists around his weapons. "For blood and war."

"For peace and starlight," said Mother Adia and raised her eyes to the ceiling, as if gazing upon the stars. "Requiem! May our wings forever find your sky."

They all repeated the prayer, and a tremble ran through Elethor. Be strong, he told himself. Be strong like your father, like your brother, like the great kings and queens of old.

In the silence that followed, Bayrin cleared his throat.

"There is, ahem… one small problem." He sucked his teeth. "How the stars do we find this Moondisk and Starlit Demon? I can't find my socks most days, and Lyana once couldn't find a dagger she'd already strapped to her belt. And as for you, Elethor, I saw you get lost in the palace once, and you're our bloody prince. Well… king now, but the point stands. Finding these things won't be easy."

"Nothing's ever easy," Elethor said. He unrolled a parchment map across the table, then pinned it open with mugs. "Mori's book says the Moondisk belongs to the Children of the Moon on the Crescent Isle. Well, I only see two groups of islands on this map. One is far in the east, where the griffins live, and I've never heard them called Children of the Moon. And then there's this place." He tapped a cluster of islands in a northern sea, many leagues away, northwest of Requiem above distant realms of myth. "I don't know much about this place. I don't know if anyone alive today does; these maps predate Requiem's fall three hundred years ago, when most other maps were burned."

Bayrin frowned at the map. "Crescent Isle? Never heard of it. You reckon our Moondisk is there?"

"I don't know," Elethor said. "But look here. One island is shaped like a crescent moon. Three smaller islands surround it. Does this remind of you of anything?"

For a moment everyone stared at the map, silent. Mori understood first and gasped.

"They're shaped like the moon and stars on the Moondisk!" She tapped the page in Ancient Artifacts where the Moondisk was drawn in delicate ink. Indeed, it seemed like the golden stars adorning the bronze disk formed the shape of the smaller islands, rising above the larger Crescent Isle. Tears filled Mori's eyes. "It's true. I knew it."

Bayrin raised his eyebrows and bit his lip. "Well, seems like a long chance—literally, since these islands are a long, very long flight away. But… I'm up for a flight. In fact, flying hundreds of leagues away from Solina sounds just about perfect now. Who's going with me?"

"Mori is," Elethor said.

As he expected, the room erupted with raised voices. Mother Adia glared and spoke of Mori needing time to recover from her flight and wounds. Lyana cried that she was a warrior of Requiem, and sworn to defend her princess, and would keep her here under guard. Even Bayrin objected, shouting that Mori would only slow him down, and that he couldn't drag along the princess if he were to find the Moondisk and bring it back for war. Even Lord Deramon spoke up, claiming that he'd send a squad of tough, battle-hardened warriors to find the Moondisk, letting the princess remain in shadow.

Elethor waited for the voices to die down. When they were all silent and staring at him, he said, "Mori needs time to heal. That will not be in underground tunnels, under siege, under constant threat of violence. If I fall, she is the last member of House Aeternum. I will not have her here, in a burrow, with the wrath of Tiranor outside our doors. Let her fly north! She will be safer in the wilderness, a single dragon in a wide world, while we fight here in a few chambers and halls. You say she would slow you down, Bayrin? Mori is the fastest dragon in Requiem. She's won every flying race she's ever flown. She flew from Castellum Luna to Nova Vita in only two days. As for sending strong warriors north, Deramon? We need them here, every last man, to protect our people. We don't know if anyone survived the battle over King's Forest other than Lyana. All those soldiers might be dead now, five thousand of them; those we have left cannot be spared." He stared into Bayrin's eyes. "Bay. You are my oldest, dearest friend. Fly north to the Crescent Isle with Mori. Protect her."

Bayrin stared back in silence for long moments, lips tight and eyes fiery. Elethor stared back at his friend, refusing to look away. He knew Bayrin; the man would grumble and quip as easily as he breathed, but he was also an honest man and a good friend, and Elethor trusted him. He could think of no one better to protect his sister.

Finally Bayrin's eyes softened and he heaved a sigh. "Oh bloody stars," he said, "I'm going to regret this, but all right." He walked toward Mori, slung his arm around her waist, and pulled her close. "Looks like it's me and you, Mors. I am sworn to protect you, my princess, and all of that."

Mori looked so slim and frail, pulled against Bayrin's gangly frame.

"Just try to keep up, Bayrin," she said in a small voice.

He snorted. "Just try not to fly into any cobwebs, little one." He turned to Elethor. "Of course, there is one small, tiny flaw in the plan—more a quibble than a flaw, really, but hear me out. How are we to, well…" He cleared his throat and raised his voice. "…leave these tunnels with about a million phoenixes and their mothers outside? I mean, I reckon Mors and I could just walk outside, wave, and say, 'Sorry, old friends, but we'd really like to fly off and fetch a weapon that could kill you all, how about you be good phoenixes and let us pass?' Yes, I think that'll work well."

Lyana groaned, rolled her eyes, and punched her brother. "Bayrin, you go do that, and spare the world your stupidity. Mori will escape the sensible way—using the Portal Scrolls."

Bayrin scratched his head of red curls. "The porta-what-now?"

Lyana groaned even louder. "You really are an idiot, aren't you? Are you sure we're related?" She slapped his head. "The Portal Scrolls! You should have spent less time chasing girls with Elethor, and more time listening to your teachers' lectures."

"I sense another lecture coming on," Bayrin muttered.

Lyana seemed not to hear him; she kept speaking, nose raised. "King Elaras, son of Queen Luna the Traveler, crafted the Portal Scrolls in the year 3318. That's 232 years ago; don't break anything trying to do the numbers in your head. Each Portal Scroll has a map with a star on it. When you read a scroll, it will magically whisk you away to that place on the map."

Bayrin whistled. "Some magic! So, you don't happen to have any Portal Scrolls leading to the Crescent Isle, do you?"

Lyana glared at him. "Bayrin! If you had ever listened to anything your teachers told you, or even bothered to visit the Chamber of Artifacts, you would know. But of course, the Chamber of Artifacts is next to the library, and I forgot that you avoid being within a league of any book." She sighed. "King Elaras and his descendents used most of the Portal Scrolls, visiting many distant realms. Only two scrolls remain in the chamber, both pointing to Lacrimosa Hill."

"But…." Bayrin rubbed his eyes. "Lyana! Lacrimosa Hill is only about a league from here. You can bloody walk that far in an hour, or fly in a second. Why would Elaras even bother crafting a magical scroll leading to a hill just outside the city?"

The groan that escaped Lyana's mouth was so loud, it echoed in the chamber. "My stars, you really are the dumbest man in Requiem, aren't you? He crafted those scrolls to get back home. A scroll leading to Salvandos isn't very useful unless you can get home, right?"

"Me, I'd stay in Salvandos if it meant escaping a know-it-all sister," he muttered.

Lyana placed her hands on her hips. "That's as may be. In any case, the Chamber of Artifacts has two scrolls; they will take you and Mori into the forest." She glared at her brother. "Do you understand now, Bayrin, or do I need to get some puppets?"

"All right, all right, I get it!" Bayrin said. He rolled his eyes. "Do you see what I have to put up with, El? The real reason I volunteered to grab the Moondisk is to get away from the constant history lessons. So, Mors and I visit the Chamber of Artifacts, find those Portal Scrolls, and zoom into the forest, nice and far from all those phoenixes. Then it's off to the magical lands of moonlight."

Elethor stared down at Mythical Creatures of the Gray Age. The illustrated Starlit Demon stared back up at him, carved of stone, its eyes two stars. Did this ancient being still live below Requiem, entombed in the Abyss, the mythical caverns far below these tunnels? Like everyone, Elethor had heard stories of the Abyss. As youths, he and Solina would even creep down to the Abyss Gates—a towering archway of stone and iron. Solina had once wanted to enter them, to make love in the Abyss itself, but Elethor had become frightened and hurried back to the surface. Do I dare approach these doors again… and this time step through them?

He spoke softly, still staring at the book. "Only the King of Requiem can wake the Starlit Demon, if the stories are true." He took a deep breath. "It seems I am the king now, so this task falls to me. I've been to the Gates of the Abyss, though I don't know what lies beyond them. They say that beyond those doors, evil dwells, and tunnels plunge for leagues into shadow and fire." He looked up from the book and found Lyana staring at him. He stared into her eyes. "I don't know if this demon is real. I don't know what awaits in the Abyss; none have entered that evil place for centuries. But if more hope lies there, I will go on this journey. If the Starlit Demon truly lives and truly sleeps in the dark deep, I will tame him and bring him to Nova Vita to slay whatever enemies the Moondisk cannot."

Lyana stared at him steadily, cheeks flushed, and nodded. "And I will go with you."

Her parents began to protest at once. Deramon spoke of needing her here, by his side, to help him defend the tunnels. Mother Adia spoke of Lyana being only a child, of the dark depths being too dangerous for her. Lyana shook her head.

"Elethor needs my sword," she said. "And he needs my knowledge. According to this book, many traps and riddles guard the way to the demon's lair." She smiled crookedly. "I've always been good at riddles. Mori might be the fastest dragon, my father the strongest, my brother, well… I'm sure he has some talents somebody will discover someday. As for me, I like to think I'm the smartest of the group. Elethor will need my knowledge."

Elethor was about to say more when the room shook. The mugs rattled on the table, and shrieks echoed outside in the tunnels. The cries of men and ringing blades filled the cellar. Deramon and Lyana drew their swords.

"It's sunrise," Elethor said softly, his insides chilling. "And Solina's wrath is upon us again." He looked at them all, one by one. "We know our tasks. Deramon, lead the men. Defend these tunnels. Adia—heal the wounded, and pray for us."

Deramon approached him, axe in hand, and gave him a hard look.

"You better not let any harm befall my daughter," Deramon said, eyes narrowed. "If you do anything stupid down there, Elethor… if you let any harm come to Lyana… I will hunt you down with more wrath than ten thousand phoenixes." He growled. "It's your lover who burns our city. I don't forget that. You find a way to extinguish her flames, or by the stars, it won't be a phoenix who kills you. It will be my axe."

Elethor stared back at the gruff, grizzled face. "You keep these tunnels safe until I return, old man. Swing your axe at the Tirans, not at me. I will extinguish Solina's fire."

Deramon spat onto the floor, gave Elethor a last glower, then turned toward his daughter. When his eyes fell upon her, they softened. The gruff warrior suddenly looked like a mother bear. He pulled Lyana into his embrace and held her tight. She clung to him.

"Take care, daughter," Deramon said. "Come back to me. Don't let the boy do anything stupid."

She nodded, tears in her eyes, and kissed his cheek.

"Goodbye, Father," she whispered.

Lyana turned to her mother next. The stately priestess stared at the young knight, tall and proud as ever, but then her eyes filled with tears, and she seemed no longer a great figure of starlight, but a mother overwhelmed with grief and worry. She hugged her daughter close, and their tears fell.

"I love you, child," Adia whispered. "I will pray for you."

Elethor turned away from them, his own eyes stinging, and found Mori and Bayrin staring at him, silent. My best friend. And my sister. I'm sending them both into danger, and I don't know if they'll return. A lump filled his throat, and he could not curb his tears. He approached them hurriedly, so they would not see his turmoil, and pulled them into an embrace.

"Goodbye, Bay," he whispered to his friend. The young man's shaggy head pressed against his cheek. Mori clung to his other side, her face pressed against his chest. He kissed her head, and she looked up at him with huge, damp eyes. "Goodbye, Mori. I love you, sister. Be careful out there. Fly fast and return to me."

She nodded, lips trembling, and held him tight. "Goodbye, El. Please be safe. Please. Listen to Lyana and don't do anything stupid, okay? And if you see anything dangerous, don't be brave, just run. Promise me."

He laughed softly through his tears and mussed her hair. "Okay, Mori, I promise."

He wiped his eyes and pulled away from the embrace. The sounds of battle echoed through the chambers. Deramon and Adia were gone already, off to fight and heal. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Elethor approached Lyana and smiled thinly.

"Are you ready?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said. "I was never ready for this. Nobody was. But let's go." She tightened her lips, nodded, and her eyes flared with rage. "Let's find this Starlit Demon and kill Solina."