A Day of Dragon Blood

ELETHOR



"Come on, Elethor!" she said. She tugged his hand and they ran through the forest. Solina laughed. "Come on, you turtle!"

Leafy branches slapped them. Moss and dry leaves flew from under their boots. Finally they emerged from behind alders thick with lichen, beams of sunlight fell, and they beheld the waterfall. Solina gasped and squeezed Elethor's hand so tightly she nearly crushed it.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

The water crashed down a cliff into a pond, spraying mist and foam. A great, mossy statue of a dragon perched atop the cliff, guarding the waterfall. The ancient children of Requiem had carved it, legends said, thousands of years before King Aeternum had raised the palace of Requiem.

Solina spun toward Elethor, teeth sparkling in her smile, her eyes glittering blue. Her chest rose and fell as she panted.

"Come on," she said, "let's get closer!"

Elethor stood before the pond. The waterfall's spray wet his face. "Why don't we just admire it from here, we can—"

With a snort, she leaped into the water, dragging him with her.

Water flowed over him and entered his nostrils. He thrust his head out and took a breath, only for Solina to splash him, filling his mouth with water.

"Elethor, come on. Closer! Right under it." She pointed at the waterfall that crashed ahead into the pool. Her hair turned dark gold with water, and her freckles shone like stars. She turned and began swimming toward the waterfall's wrath.

"Solina! Can't we just swim here?"

She turned back toward him, gave him a toothy grin, then began to swim toward the waterfall again. With a sigh, Elethor followed. The spray soon rose so thickly he could see only a foot ahead. The water crashed so loudly, his ears ached. Water kept filling his mouth, eyes, and nostrils.

"Solina, where are you?" he shouted and spat out water.

He looked around but saw only the mist. Currents swirled around him, and when he put his feet down, he could no longer feel the pool's floor.

"Solina!"

A hand reached out from the mist, grabbed the back of his head, and pulled him forward. He found himself pressed against Solina, her mouth against his, her hands in his hair. They kissed for long moments. The water crashed around them.

She shoved him back. "Get off. Come on, follow me." She mussed his hair, then vanished into the spray.

He caught her on the lakeshore. She stood before him, dripping wet, her tunic clinging to her. With a crooked smile, she stripped off her clothes and shook her hair. They made love there in the sunlight, until dirt and grass and dry leaves clung to their wet bodies, then lay holding each other and watching the water. She nestled against him, and he kissed her head. The autumn leaves rustled and the blackbirds sang.

"I don't ever want to go back," she whispered. She tightened her arms around him, laid her head against his chest, and closed her eyes. "I don't ever want to return to Nova Vita. I want to stay here with you, Elethor. Just you and me here in the forest. I love you so much. I hate all the other ones. I hate them!" She opened her eyes, revealing tears. "I hate Lyana, and I hate her father, and I hate all the rest of them." She growled, then sniffed, and her tears fell onto his chest. She held him tight. "I love you so much, El. You are the only one I love. Let's never go back."

He kissed her head and held her close. Her naked body was warm against him.

"Lyana can lecture a lot; I know it! She does the same to me, but she means no harm. Mori can seem to pity you; I know that too. But she only tries to comfort you, not hurt you. You know this, Solina; I've told you many times. Please let go of your anger." He pulled back an errant lock of her hair. "Never go back? Requiem is our home; it's your home too now. Will we live as beasts in the wilderness? Hermits clad in leaf and fur?"

"I don't need any leaf or fur." A deep light filled her eyes. "I am no beast, no hermit. I am the last survivor of the Phoebus Dynasty. Let us flee Requiem! Come with me to Tiranor, El. I will rally my people. I will raise the palace anew, that palace your father destroyed. We will rebuild the desert, El! You and I. We will become great rulers, an empress and emperor in a magical realm." She clutched his shoulders, digging her fingernails into them. "It will be our secret world, a world of steel, spice, and sunlight." Her eyes shone.

Elethor sighed. "Solina, I wish I could go there with you. Truly I do. But... what lies there for us? A ruined, toppled city. A desert of sand and death." He shook his head. "How could I leave my family? How could I leave Orin and Mori and Father and the rest of them?"

She snarled. Her fingernails drove deeper into his shoulders, so painful that he winced.

"To the Abyss with them," she snarled. "I don't care about them, El. They don't understand us. They don't know what it's like to be us. They don't know how much we love each other." She rose to her feet, walked toward the lake, and stood with her back to him. She gazed at the waterfall. "One day they will see, El. They will see my strength, and they will see our love, and we will no longer have to hide."

He walked toward her and embraced her. She laid her head against his shoulder, and they stood holding each other, watching the water crash.

He turned around.

Below the hill, his army stood—three thousand dragons clad in armor, snorting fire and smoke. They covered the valley, scales chinking, the heat of their flames filling the air. Elethor stood above them, still in human form—no longer a skinny youth, but a bearded man in armor, a sword at his side, his face scarred with war.

It's been eight years since that day, he thought. And even now he missed the touch of sunlight, the kiss of her lips, and her hair between his fingers.

She was different then. I was not wrong to love her then.

He lowered his head and closed his eyes. The guilt clawed inside him, clutching his innards. She had been his love—his life. It's me she wants. It's our war—hers and mine. He gritted his teeth. And thousands will die for us.

He turned away from his army and looked south. Mountains spread into a horizon of dark clouds. Ralora Beach lay beyond the shadows; from there she would emerge.

Is Lord Oldnale right? Do I lead us to destruction? Will Requiem burn for the love and hatred of me and her?

Staring into the southern clouds and rain, he remembered Solina killing the children in the tunnels, burning the city, screaming that she would slaughter them all. He clenched his fists.

No. Oldnale is wrong. Solina would destroy us—for the death of her parents, for her captivity, for her madness.

He shifted into a dragon, flapped his wings, and rose into the sky. He roared a pillar of fire.

"Dragons of Requiem!" he called. "We fly! We fly to war!"

They howled behind him. Their wings beat like war drums. Their flames rose. The Royal Army of Requiem took flight. Elethor soared into skies of cloud and rain, and his army followed with howls and fountains of fire. As he dived through the storm, Elethor remembered swimming after Solina as the water pounded him, chasing her, seeking her through mist and spray. He had caught her and kissed her that day; now he would meet her again... and kill her with steel, flame, and blood.