A Dawn of Dragonfire

BAYRIN



Time swirled like stars.

Darkness clutched him, pulling him into slumber, and Bayrin dreamed. In his dreams, he lay in human form upon bloody earth. Mori was kneeling above, also a human, cradling him in her arms.

"Bay!" she cried and shook him. "Bay, please…"

He dreamed of his sister there too, weeping over him, and his mother praying, and soldiers bearing him on a litter into a temple of marble and candles.

"Mori," he whispered. "I have to protect her… I have to fly…."

His voice died and he slept.

He felt like he slept for years.

When his eyes finally fluttered open, he thought he was dead. Soft light bathed him, and marble columns rose around him. He lay in a bed, a white blanket pulled over him. It was supposed to be night, but dawn's light fell from the windows.

"Mori?" he whispered, voice hoarse. He raised his arm and saw that bandages covered it.

"Do I look like Mori?" a voice answered him. "Bay, if I look like my sister, you look like a phoenix. Actually, for a while up there, you did look like one."

Bayrin pushed himself up in bed, pain blazing. He winced. A figure sat at his bedside, silhouetted in the dawn's light. Bayrin squinted, bringing the figure into focus. His breath caught.

"Elethor?" he whispered.

His friend nodded, smiling softly, though his eyes were sad.

"El!" Bayrin cried. He tried to leap up, to hug his friend, but his head spun, and he fell back into bed. Everything hurt; he felt like he'd been dipped into a bath of coals.

"Take it easy, Bay!" Elethor said and squeezed his shoulder. "You got banged up pretty badly there."

In a flash, Bayrin remembered. The phoenixes! They had swooped toward Mori, and…

He pushed himself back up, panting. "I have to save her, El. The battle! Mori is…"

"Mori is fine, Bay!" Elethor said. "Lie down, for stars' sake, or I'll tie you down." His voice softened. "You saved her life up there. You saved all of us."

Elethor himself was wounded, Bayrin saw. Bandages covered his shoulder and leg. Fresh stitches ran along his face, from forehead to chin. The young king looked like he'd been to the Abyss and back—which, Bayrin supposed, he had been. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Look at us, El—a pair of beaten up patients." Suddenly he found that tears filled his eyes. "Stars, Elethor, I missed you. What happened? Is the battle…?"

"The battle is over." Elethor sighed and lowered his head. "Solina fled. So have those phoenixes who survived. Not many of them did, but some managed to flee into the south. After the Starlit Demon ate his fill, he vanished back underground; I imagine he'll sleep for a good long while to digest his meal." He winced. "It was bad, Bay. Many Vir Requis died. Too many." His voice dropped to a pained whisper. "Thousands are gone."

Bayrin's breath caught and horror clumped in his throat. "Is… my sister? My parents?"

"They're alive. Your father looks like he was dropped into a nest of weasels, and your mother has seen better days. Lyana is bashed up like an old leather ball after a thousand kicks, but she wouldn't admit it." He smiled softly. "They're here in the temple, wounds tended to."

Relief swept over Bayrin, but grief too. Many Vir Requis died. Too many.

Eyes stinging, he looked outside the window. He watched the morning light fall upon ruins. Clear skies rolled outside, blue without a tinge of smoke. A lump filled his throat, and he swallowed.

"Where…" His voice caught, and he blinked for a moment, unable to speak. "Where is Mori? I want to see her."

Elethor helped him up. Bayrin slung his arm across the king's shoulder, and they walked slowly. Step by step, they left the chamber and moved down a hallway. Wounded filled the hall, lying on makeshift beds. When they passed by chambers, Bayrin saw more wounded inside. Healers rushed back and forth, robes swishing. Many were hurt themselves, faces and limbs bandaged, but they still bustled about, carrying herbs and bandages.

Most of the wounded were Vir Requis, Bayrin saw, but some were Tirans with platinum hair and pained blue eyes. For a moment rage filled Bayrin. Why should they tend to wounded Tirans, the men who had tried to slaughter them? But he only sighed, his rage soon dissipating. Let the bastards live. Let them see the mercy and goodness of those they thought mere reptiles.

Finally they reached a narrow hallway, its wall smashed and its floor strewn with bricks. Two guards in breastplates stood before a doorway, clutching spears. They bowed to Elethor and pulled the door open.

"Go and see her," Elethor said softly. "I'm needed at court, and you two have a lot to discuss." He clutched Bayrin's shoulder, then pulled him into an embrace. "It's good to have you back, friend."

When Bayrin stepped alone into the room, he found himself holding his breath, suddenly sheepish. Their quest north, the battle with the demon of wood and stone, the inferno over Nova Vita… it all seemed like a bad dream to him now. He had kissed Mori on the Crescent Isle, had vowed to protect her, but… back home, in Nova Vita, would she mock him for it? Would they be as before the war—he the ne'er-do-well guard, she the timid princess who shied away at every touch? It felt like waking from a dream, not knowing what the dawn would bring.

She lay in a bed, wrapped in embroidered blankets, her wounds bandaged. When she saw him enter, she smiled wanly and lowered her eyes. The dawn's light kissed her pale cheeks, pink lips, and chestnut hair. She was so beautiful.

Bayrin stepped toward her, hesitant. She looked up at him, then down again, and her eyes dampened. His breath caught, he froze… and then he took three great strides toward her. He found himself embracing her, nearly crushing her in his arms, as she wept against him, soaking his shirt. As the morning's light fell upon them, they kissed with tears and laughter. She touched his cheek, and he couldn't help but cry too; joy and relief swept over him.

"Hi there, Mors," he whispered.

She smiled tremulously, tears on her lips. "Hi there, Bay."

He laughed and pulled her back into his embrace. He rocked her gently in his arms.

"I told you we'd do it," she whispered.

Still holding her, Bayrin looked outside. Burnt trees rose between ashy walls. Buildings lay toppled. But he saw people move between those buildings, lifting fallen bricks, collecting shattered weapons, and sweeping the ash away. It would be a time of pain, he knew, of mourning and grief. But we will rebuild.

He knew then—things would not return to how they had been. He had changed too much. He remembered himself before the phoenix fire—a lowly guard with great parentage. He had watched his sister rise in the ranks of the court, his father lead armies, his mother speak to the stars. And he would joke to hide his pain, run off with Elethor to escape his failed life.

But he had purpose now. He had Mori.

I may still be nothing but a lowly guard… but I guard the Princess of Requiem, the woman I love.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," he whispered into her hair. "I love you, Mori. I know that healing will be long and painful—for you, for this city, for all of us. I know that some battles only now begin. But you have me. We'll go through this together."

She lowered her eyes, her lashes brushing his cheek, and clung to him. "I miss them, Bay. My brother. My father. I miss them so much, that… I don't know if the pain will ever end." She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with tears. "I love you too, Bayrin. Always. So much that it hurts, so much that… when you fell from the sky, I thought I would die, that light could never more shine in the world." She smiled shakily and nodded. "We will heal together, Bay, you and I. It hurts so much, but… we have each other. We'll do this together."

A robin took flight outside the window, rising into a clear sky. Spring is here, Bayrin thought, Mori in his arms. They sat together silently, embracing, watching the dawn rise.