Douglas Niles: The Puppet King

“The griffons in the High Kharolis!” his wife said suddenly. “You were talking about them just a little while ago—where they gathered after they left Qualinesti. You should fly there immediately, ask them—beg them if you have to, for help! If they came to our rescue, we could all fly at once, stay together, fly away from the shadows if they try to come after us in the forest.”

“It’s our only chance!” Samar agreed. “I saw where they laired when we flew here from Silvanesti. I can describe the spot to you.”

“It’s a chance, I admit,” Porthios said. At the same time, he was thinking about this wonderful elf woman and about the son they had brought into the world. He remembered especially the long years in Silvanesti, while she had worked in Qualinesti, doing the work that was really his own legacy. How much of their current troubles had arisen because he had been willing to leave her for so long?

“But I can’t go,” he said firmly.

“Why?” demanded the Silvanesti warrior-mage.

“Too often I have neglected my wife for matters of state and leadership. Now we are in our worst danger, and I will not abandon her.”

“But you’d be coming back!” Alhana tried to persuade him.

“No... because I won’t be going.” The prince turned to Samar. “You’ll have to go in my stead. You know where the griffons are, and Stallyar will take you.”

Samar looked at Alhana, then nodded slowly to Porthios.

“I understand... and I will do this, my prince,” pledged the warrior-mage.

And the shadows crept closer from below.

“So it was you who flew to the High Kharolis?” Aerensianic asked.

Samar nodded. “I went on this quest with heavy heart, for I truly believed that I would never see my queen again.”

Aerensianic roared again, fury somehow overcoming his terror as he hurled himself toward the imminent collision with his blazing pursuer. He didn’t look away, only hoped that Toxyria was winging with all speed toward the coast. Below him, the gray sea spread flat and metallic, and then the blazing image of the fire dragon filled his view.

Wyrms of fire and poison collided in a hissing tangle of green smoke and red fire, talons ripping, fangs slashing, and powerful wings driving the monsters together with headlong speed. Aeren felt his nostrils burning, sensed the scales ripped away from his flesh under the onslaught of that awful heat. But at the same time, he realized that the fire dragon was falling, that its flames sizzled and died within the billowing ball of the green’s lethal exhalation. He expelled another cloud of deadly vapor, then plunged onto the still-burning back of the fire dragon, tearing with his claws, ignoring the heat that burned his mouth as he bit down on the other serpent’s spine.

He tore into the fiery flesh, biting deep, driving his fangs with hissing fury into scalding flesh. With convulsive force, he ripped away a piece of the monster’s backbone, spitting the smoking flesh to the side. At the same time, he felt a reflexive quiver in the great body beneath his talons, a shudder that convinced him that the other wyrm was dead. Spreading his wings, he felt those massive membranes crackle and strain where they had been scalded. Nevertheless, they bore his weight, pulling him away from the now lifeless hulk that tumbled toward the sea.

Aerensianic spun toward the fire dragon’s two companions, both of whom dived toward him with widespread jaws and wings that left trails of smoke and sparks in the air. The green dragon knew he couldn’t avoid the twin attackers, and so he spread his own jaws and belched a massive cloud of gas straight into the path of the nearest fire dragon. His wings cracked and blistered from the heat as he strained to hold himself aloft. Inwardly he quailed at the prospect of another clash with the unnatural monsters. Still, he held firm to his course, ready to fight and even prepared to die.

He was vaguely aware of another cloud of gas, a churning mist of green that enveloped the second fire dragon, and then Toxy was slashing into the fight. She screamed in pain as flames charred her body, but she bit and clawed and rent before belching another massive cloud of lethal gas. The supple body collided with his own, and then the two greens pushed off of each other, wheeling and snarling back into the fight.

The four mighty serpents whirled and dived and banked through the skies, surrounded by mixed clouds of fire and lethal gas. Teeth and talons tore at flesh of scale and fire, while cries of pain mingled with roars of fury. It seemed to Aerensianic as though the world was tilting on its axis, that the sun might have been standing still in the sky. The gray seascape was like a sheet of cold steel, as hard and firm and unforgiving as any metal shield.

Hellish heat blistered him, while chaotic sounds merged into a cacophony of fury and pain. Cries of his own agony were mingled with bellows of ultimate fury. Numbed to the hurt of his own burns, Aeren slashed and whirled through the melee with howls of pure hatred, latching on to his enemy’s fiery flesh, pressing and crushing with killing force. Ignoring the blistering heat, the agony that shivered through every portion of his being, he slashed another fire dragon to ribbons. Nearby, Toxy did the same to the last of the chaotic beings, and finally two more corpses plummeted into the gray sea.

The pair of green dragons, singed and scarred but alive, spread their wings and glided painfully toward their coast. Behind them, sizzling plumes of steam rose from the sea, while overhead sunlight slashed downward, cruel and blistering. Despite the heat, Aeren shivered, and he saw that Toxy was trembling beside him. He sensed intuitively, and knew that she shared his awareness, that something about their world had utterly, fundamentally changed.

Though Toxyria was even more badly burned than Aeren, she was able to make it back to the coastline, landing with a barely controlled crash before the sea cave that served as the green dragons’ lair. Aerensianic, ignoring the pain of his own wounds, circled over the crashing surf, watching anxiously as his companion slithered out of sight, vanishing into the shady coolness of the cavern.

Only then did he lift his head, seeking through the air, looking to all horizons to see if there was any sign of more fire dragons. Only the sun shared the sky with him, and once again he had that eerie thought—the blazing orb remained directly overhead, stubbornly refusing to move from the zenith. Finally he too landed, creeping into the lair to curl up in a dark, moist alcove of the cave. Gently Aeren licked at the horrible wounds that scarred Toxy’s flanks, while she lowered her head and breathed out a mournful sigh.

At last they slept, for how long Aeren couldn’t tell. He awakened with a groggy return to consciousness, aching in every nerve. Despite the pain, he crawled to the entrance to peer outside. The sunlight still beat straight down outside the cave, though he found it hard to believe that they had slumbered through a full day. Still, he felt a little stronger, and the pain in his neck and wings had diminished considerably with the rest.

“Stay here,” he whispered as his companion moaned.

She shook her head in reply, lifting her sinuous neck.

“We have to get help,” she said. “This is a danger that is greater any we have ever seen, greater by far than the threats of metal dragons or of the lances that pierce and kill.”

“What should we do?” Aeren asked.

“You go north... seek more greens, and the blues, too, if you can find them. Tell them of these fire dragons and bring them here.”

“And you?”

“I will go south... there, too, I hope to find greens. And beyond that, there may be white dragons living in the realms of ice. I will bring them, and in all our numbers, we will fly against the Storms of Chaos.”