A Dawn of Dragonfire

MORI



She flew on the wind, the Moondisk clutched in her claws, clouds streaming beneath her. When she saw the mountains ahead, their snow golden in the dawn, tears filled her eyes. Those were the mountains of Requiem.

"We're home," she whispered into the wind.

When she looked at Bayrin, who flew at her side, she saw his eyes gleam. Flames crackled between his teeth.

"Home," he said, voice streaming into the wind like the smoke from his nostrils.

The clouds obscured all but the mountaintops, and fear filled Mori. What would she find beneath that cloud cover? Smoldering forests? Nothing but ruin and skeletons? The city of Nova Vita still lay many leagues away. When she arrived, would the Moondisk bring hope for her people, or would her gift be given to the dead?

"Remember, Mori!" Bayrin called to her. "When we see the phoenixes, you point the Moondisk at them. I'll burn them with fire."

Mori nodded, clutching the bronze disk in her claws. Would it work? The disk seemed so small, no larger than a shield. How could it defeat the flame of Tiranor? The Children of the Moon had claimed its rays would extinguish phoenix fire, but what if they were wrong? What if that was only a legend? It had been thousands of years since the Sun God had attacked the northern isles; tales from so long ago also spoke of golems of clay, fairies that snatched the teeth of errant children, and other stories that could not possibly be true. Was this Moondisk just another myth?

"Bay, are you sure that—"

She had no time to voice her concern. Before she could complete her sentence, a ball of light flared on the horizon, like a sun rising from the clouds.

Bayrin cursed and bared his fangs.

"Stay near me, Mori," he said. "There's only one. It's time to test the Moondisk."

Fear pounded through Mori. Her limbs shook and flames danced inside her maw. She growled and showed her fangs, and smoke streamed from her nostrils. She glided upon an air current, diving toward the orange ball of light ahead.

Be strong, Mori, she told herself. Be brave. For Requiem. For Bayrin.

The ball of fire burst from the cloud cover, and Mori couldn't help it. She screamed.

The phoenix shot forward. It screeched, a sound like shattering mountains and typhoons. Its wings outstretched, a hundred feet in span, crackling with fire. Its body coiled, woven of liquid fire, and its eyes blazed like two suns.

It was him. She would know him anywhere. Acribus.

Every instinct inside her screamed to flee. Her heart thrashed. Her wings shook. She could barely breathe. Turn and fly, Mori! Fly away and hide!

"With me, Mori!" Bayrin shouted at her side, roaring fire. "Fly!"

Mori howled and blew flame. Heart thrashing, she shot toward the phoenix.

The Moondisk thrummed in her claws, vibrating. Soon it shook so wildly, she nearly dropped it. It felt so hot, hotter than coals, its heat shooting up her limbs. She clutched it tighter and screamed, driving forward along the wind.

The phoenix howled and its eyes met hers. Its beak, white hot shards of molten steel, opened to screech, revealing a maw of lava. It came surging toward her, wings flapping, raising fountains of light.

A ring of silver light exploded in her claws.

A shock wave shot out, the color of sky, its hum deafening. A beam of light coalesced and blazed forward, faster than arrows, wider than the pillars of Requiem, consuming Mori. She screamed with pain. She wanted to die. The light and sound vibrated through her, claiming her; she could see and hear nothing else. And yet she kept flying. She held the Moondisk. She raised it in her claws.

Wings flapping madly, she pointed the beam forward and heard the phoenix howl. The light washed it. Mori could see nothing but blue, but she growled, forced herself to narrow her eyes, to stare, to see her enemy.

Caught in the beam, Acribus howled. His wings flapped and his claws lashed. No more fire covered him. He flew as a great, naked bird, his flesh pale and wrinkled, his eyes black and beady. He looked to Mori like some plucked, starving vulture, a weak and wizened thing.

"Burn it, Bayrin!" she screamed, voice nearly lost under the deafening howl of the light. "Burn it dead!"

Through the silver beam, a dragon swooped. Bayrin's scales blazed under the light, a bright white tinged with silver. His claws outstretched. His maw opened. A stream of fire shot from his maw, spinning and crackling, and crashed against the naked phoenix.

Acribus howled. The fire engulfed him. His flew back, wings pounding the air. He clawed and burned.

Growling, Mori dived forward, the Moondisk clutched in her claws. She swooped. Rage filled her. Keeping the Moondisk's light upon him, she showered Acribus with fire.

Her flames cascaded against the naked bird. Acribus howled. His wrinkled skin burned, burst, and peeled off. Welts rose across his flesh, swollen like rotten fruit. His eyes melted. Soon he looked like a phoenix again, covered in burning flames—but this fire burned him.

He mewled, a high sound that chilled Mori, and she realized: This is the sound I made when he hurt me. She blasted him with fire again, tears in her eyes, a howl in her throat.

Her fire burst against him, and Acribus fell from the sky.

He tumbled, a burning bird, his skin crackling. Mori swooped above him, Moondisk in her claws, keeping the beam upon him. Wind and smoke stung her eyes. Acribus tumbled through clouds, a comet crashing toward the earth. Mori followed, screaming, holding him in the beam lest he became a phoenix again. Forests rushed up toward them. The earth spun. Mori screamed and dived.

The naked, burning bird crashed through the treetops and hit the ground.

His magic vanished. He shrank like a piece of meat crumbling under fire. Soon he lay upon the earth as a broken, charred man. Smoke rose from him.

Mori landed beside him and tossed the Moondisk aside. It thumped into dry leaves, its light dimmed, and its hum faded. Once more, it was nothing but a shield of bronze inlaid with gold. Mori turned her eyes toward Acribus, who lay at her feet.

He moaned and twitched, still alive. Burns covered him. His clothes stuck to his soft, red body, melted into his flesh. He gasped for breath and whimpered.

Mori shifted into a human, drew her sword, and held it above him.

She wanted to slay him, but her hand shook, and tears filled her eyes. She could only stand above this ruin of a man, this living piece of burnt meat. In the old books she read, stories of epic adventure, dragons always slew their enemies with fire and glory. But the books never told of this. They never told of flesh melting over bones and the stink of it.

This is what Orin looked like, she remembered. It's how he looked when you raped me by his body.

With the flap of wings, Bayrin landed beside her in smoke and fire. He shifted into a human too, came to stand beside her, and blanched. Shock and disgust suffused his face, and he gritted his teeth. When he drew his sword, his hand shook.

"Stars, Mori," he whispered. "Look away. I'll finish this."

He tried to turn her aside, but she would not move.

"No," she whispered. "I… I want to see him die. I have to."

She looked up at Bayrin. Ash and dirt covered his face. Blood still stained his clothes from the lamprey wounds. His red hair was now black with soot. Mori wanted to tell him, needed to tell him, to tell somebody the secret that burned inside her.

"Bayrin, he…" Tears caught in her throat, and her body trembled, but she had to do this, she had to speak now before her courage left her. "Bayrin, at Castellum Luna, after they killed Orin, he… Acribus, he grabbed me and…"

Bayrin winced. "Mori, it's all right. You don't have to speak of it. I think I know what happened. You don't have to tell me… if you don't want to."

A sob fled her lips, but she tightened her jaw and clutched her sword. Stay strong.

"I have to tell you," she said, "I have to, I have to speak to somebody. He raped me, Bayrin. He raped me by the body of my brother, and… I didn't even fight him. I let him do it. I'm sorry." Tears filled her eyes.

Bayrin shook his head, eyes damp and narrowed. "For what, Mori? Sorry for what?" He blew out a shaky breath. "Stars, Mori, it wasn't your fault. You didn't let him do anything."

Mori closed her eyes, sword wavering in her hand. She still felt so dirty, so ashamed, so impure. But a sliver of relief filled her, a dim ray of hope. She had told Bayrin, and he hadn't recoiled in disgust. He still stood at her side. For an instant fear swelled inside her, and she was terrified that he would try to embrace or kiss her, and she knew she would flinch at his touch, that the memories would flow through her. But he only stood at her side, sword in hand, and she loved him for it. It was all she wanted from him right now.

"Bayrin," she whispered and opened her eyes. "Can you… can you do it?"

He nodded, face pale, eyes haunted but determined.

Mori turned away and walked several feet, facing the trees. She clutched her sword so tight her fingers hurt. She closed her eyes. When she heard the cry behind her, a mewl like a kicked dog, she winced and a tear ran down her cheek.

She heard Acribus moan no more. It was over.

"He's gone," she whispered, trembling. "He's gone forever."

The sun began to set. They had flown for two days and a night, not resting, and Nova Vita still lay many leagues away.

That night they slept upon a bed of dry leaves, naked birches rising around them. Under their cloaks, Mori shifted until she lay against Bayrin, warm in his arms. She slept with her head against his chest, his hand stroking her hair, and for the first time in many nights, she did not dream.