The Dragon's Heir

The thunderous sound of giant flapping wings filled the air as the massive dragon soared over the land far below. Its ruby scales shone like fire against the clear sky, drawing the attention of humans who stared and pointed, though whether in fear or in wonder it did not know. Perhaps a mixture of both. It had been some time since Taugomir, last of the Great Dragons, had ventured to this region. It was likely that few if any in the area had ever seen something like him. He paid little attention to the humans, however. They were beneath his notice, unlike what had drawn him to the region in the first place.

Grassy plains soon turned to towering trees below, and the feeling compelling Taugomir grew ever stronger, pulling him forward as if he had a rope around him. He could not describe exactly what it was he felt, other than that something seemed to be calling to him. Something that he couldn’t ignore. On the breeze he suddenly caught the stench of smoke and death coming from the east. This troubled him, as he had seen increasing signs of human conflict in his journeys over the last several months, but he did not break from his path to investigate. There was no point. Humans had to solve their own problems, and in his experience, a massive dragon approaching rarely seemed to calm them. In any case, he was more curious about what was drawing him onward.

He continued to allow the strange feeling to guide him until at last he began to descend towards a small clearing. With a few final flaps to slow himself, he landed in the clearing beside a pool of water. He surveyed the forest around him, his long neck twisting as he searched for whatever it was that had called him. He didn’t see anything, but felt something pull him towards the treeline.

Cautiously he stretched his neck into the treeline, as the forest was too thick for his bulk. Fortunately, he did not have to go far. Hidden in the undergrowth several feet in from the treeline lay a small human. What remained of its clothing was charred, and patches of pale skin could be seen through the soot that covered it. Wispy red hair speckled with flakes of ash covered its head, giving the appearance that it was still burning. It was asleep in the dirt beneath a bush and didn’t seem to have noticed the dragon’s presence.

Confusion filled Taugomir. Why had he been drawn to this human hatchling?

Craning his neck down toward the sleeping creature, he examined it. He wasn’t sure if it was male or female because of the strange second skin humans wore. There was nothing inherently extraordinary about it as far as he could tell. It resembled all of the other hatchlings he had seen over his centuries of life. It shouldn’t have intrigued him in the slightest.

And yet, the feeling he felt pulling him toward the small creature wouldn’t let him leave.

The human suddenly stirred, having been awoken by Taugomir’s presence. It rolled over to face him and regarded him with what he believed to be an expression of curiosity, though it was hard to tell with humans —particularly hatchlings— even when their faces weren’t covered in black soot lined by tear tracks. The only thing he was certain of in that regard was that it was not a look of fear that so often accompanied his presence. Nor was it an expression of awe. The hatchling didn’t seem to know what to make of him as it gazed at him with innocence-filled amethyst eyes.

The hatchling pushed itself up onto unsteady legs and slowly walked the few steps to the tip of Taugomir’s snout. This was an unexpected reaction, and yet Taugomir did not move. The hatchling reached him and reached out with a tiny paw to touch him. Suddenly, the feeling that had led him there erupted within him as an ancient sense passed between them. One born millennia before his birth, and one that he had not experienced for many long years. And he understood why he had been drawn to this human hatchling.

It possessed the Old Blood. The blood of the two-forms.

Not only that, but it possessed it strongly enough that it had actually called out to Taugomir, something that had not happened in over a century, and certainly not with one so young as this. The Blood did not usually reveal itself until they had matured, and even then the centuries had diluted it enough that it only became apparent what they were when they exhibited traits granted to them by their Draconian heritage. Could this be a sign that the prophecy was upon them?

If the hatchling understood the significance of any of this, it gave no indication of it. It did, however, smile at the dragon standing before it, having sensed a kinship with it through that touch.

Taugomir regarded the hatchling for a moment longer, then spoke.

“Where is your pack, hatchling?” he asked, his rumbling voice surprisingly gentle despite the slight growl-like undertone.

The human looked at him with a blank stare, not appearing to understand the question. Taugomir asked again, and this time received unintelligible noises in response. This was enough of an answer for him. The hatchling was too young to have wandered this deep into the forest on its own. Either something must have left it here, or…

He gazed deeper into the shadows of the forest and several feet away saw another human lying behind a tree. In his haste to locate the source of what had drawn him here, he hadn’t noticed it before. This one was a mature female. Like the hatchling, her clothing was charred, and what skin could be seen was covered in horrific burns. Even without close examination, it was clear that she was dead.

He turned his gaze back to the human, who had now sat down in the grass. It seemed completely at ease despite the massive dragon less than a foot away, and did not appear to have noticed the corpse lying nearby. He thought for a second longer, then said simply, “Come,” before withdrawing his head from the trees.

Whether the hatchling understood or because it just wanted to follow him, it pushed itself back to its feet and unsteadily walked out into the clearing to join him.

Taugomir appraised the human for a brief second, then, through their empathetic connection, he sent a calming wave of emotion over it. Then, as gently as he could, he reached out with his right foreleg and grasped the hatchling in his paw, careful not to crush it or cut it with his claws. Sensing fear rising up in the human, he strengthened the calming wave to smother it. Then, pushing off with three legs, he rose into the sky and turned south, the hatchling safely secured in his paw.

*******

Taugomir continued south through the night, turning slightly west shortly before the sun appeared on the horizon. The hatchling slept through much of the journey due to his continuous calming wave, but awoke in time to see the massive mountain range appear on the horizon. The mountains stretched for countless leagues in either direction, and as they got closer the true magnitude of their size became clearer, with some stretching up so high that their peaks could not be seen as they became lost within the clouds.

As always, Taugomir felt a sense of sorrow upon gazing at the mountains. Once, they had been the ancestral home of the dragons, as none but they could truly conquer the peaks. The mountains called to him, just as the hatchling had, yet unlike it, they offered no hope. Only a reminder of an age long passed.

With great effort, he angled away from the center summit, which towered above those that ringed it, descending into a range just north of the peak. Below him the hatchling let out a noise of excitement as they flew through the massive peaks. The mountains closed in around them, completely cutting them off from the outside world. It had been many years since he had flown this route, yet muscle memory guided him without hesitation.

Suddenly, the mountains opened up to reveal a valley hidden deep in the mountains. A massive stone structure sat at the center of the valley, surrounded by smaller structures of similar construction. Though he knew there to be dozens of humans dwelling within the valley, only a few could be seen moving about at the moment. Taking care not to crush the hatchling, Taugomir landed on the outskirts of the settlement. He gently set the hatchling down as a few humans rushed to greet him. They bowed as they reached him, then one of them stepped forward and spoke.

“Great Taugomir, you honor us with your presence after so long. What brings you here?” he asked, his voice rough with age, yet still strong.

“Greetings Wallen,” Taugomir growled, “I come bearing a new hatchling for you.” He gestured towards the hatchling with his snout.

Wallen’s amber eyes widened as he looked at the child, which was gazing at them with a confused expression. It had been some time since Taugomir had personally delivered a new acolyte, and never one so young.

“Who is she, my lord?” Wallen asked, studying the child, who was now amusing herself by pulling up blades of grass.

“I found her alone in a forest in the north. I know not where she came from, but there were signs of conflict in the region and the smell of death in the air. Perhaps that awakened the Blood within her, calling me to her.”

Wallen said nothing as he continued to gaze at the child, running his hand along his short white beard as he did so. Finally, he turned to the two nearly identical women behind him.

“Malya, if you and Q’rinn would be so kind, let us get our new pupil cleaned up and into some fresh clothes.”

The twins nodded and stepped forward. Malya reached down to pick up the child, who for the first time seemed concerned. She looked to Taugomir as one would a parent, confusion painting her face.

“It’s okay, little one,” he growled, “This is your home now.”

This did not seem to comfort her, but she did not protest as the twins carried her towards the stone structures.

Wallen waited until they were out of earshot, then turned to Taugomir.

“There’s something more, isn’t there, my lord?” he asked.

Taugomir remained silent for a moment, then sighed deeply. “The hatchling has the strongest concentration of the Old Blood that I’ve felt in ages. And for it to awaken at such a young age…” He turned his head to look at Wallen. “There is a darkness rising in the land. I believed it to be simply another human conflict, but now I fear it is something more, and the hatchling calling me does not seem like a coincidence.” He raised his head to stare towards the looming spire of the centermost peak. “Watch her closely, Wallen. I don’t yet know why, but there is something about her that feels significant. If the prophecy is indeed at hand, perhaps she is the key to preventing the Great Darkness from returning.”

Wallen bowed his head. “You have my word, great Taugomir. Both I and the Order of the Flame will do everything we can to keep her safe.”

Taugomir bowed his head slightly in acceptance, then pushed off the ground and flew into the air.

*******

Wallen watched him until he passed out of sight, then turned and walked towards the citadel. Taugomir’s words filled his thoughts, and it wasn’t until he stepped into the center structure that he pulled himself from them. He turned down a hall to his left and continued until he reached the twins’ quarters. He knocked, then opened the door after being told to enter. Sitting on one of the beds was the child, now clean and dressed in a simple tan garment. She looked up at him as he entered, a questioning look on her face.

Perhaps she is wondering where Taugomir went, he thought. Amazing that she developed such an attachment to him so quickly.

He walked over to the bed and knelt down before the child, his amber eyes staring into her amethyst. Despite the supposed hardships that had brought her to this point, they were full of innocence. She was not a hardened soul like so many that were among their ranks. Could she really be the key to stopping the prophecy? he asked himself

“What shall we call her, Master Wallen?” Q’rinn asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Wallen scratched his beard as he thought. He’d never had to choose a name for a child before. As he gazed at her, something stirred in his mind. An image of his sister, passed long before her time. And he knew what her name should be.

“Syrinna.”

*******

The months passed quickly as Syrinna became more comfortable with her new home in the citadel. Though she was too young to properly train yet, Wallen made sure to include her in the lessons, hoping that she would begin to pick things up simply by being there. Fortunately, she did not yet appear to possess the pyrokinetic abilities that Draconians were blessed with. Young Draconians already struggled enough to control their fire when the power first awoke within them. At her age, it could be disastrous. Still, she did already seem to possess other abilities common amongst their kind. She was stronger than normal toddlers, appeared to possess better senses, and did not seem bothered in the slightest by heat.

Though the other acolytes accepted her almost immediately into their ranks, she remained leery of them. Perhaps it was a result of whatever horrific event had led to her ending up in the forest, or perhaps it was just her nature. In any case, she remained close to Wallen, quickly developing an attachment to him just as she had to Taugomir. A bond that Wallen quickly felt as well, though whether it was because of his promise to protect her or because they had never had one as young as her amongst them he couldn’t say.

Taugomir did not return during this time, yet his dark words continued to worry Wallen. He had spoken of them with the council, but beyond continuing to train their acolytes there didn’t seem to be anything they could do. None but the ancient dragons knew exactly what the darkness spoken of in the prophecy truly was. Even Taugomir did not know for certain. And so they continued as they always had.

And yet, Wallen and the other leaders could not ignore the signs that something was happening. Each month seemed to bring more word from their scouts of increasing conflict in the north, though the full magnitude of the situation eluded them. Some among the council members believed it to be nothing more than fighting among the various kingdoms, but as the reports continued to come in, Wallen couldn’t help but think of Taugomir’s words. Remembering his vow, he maintained a careful watch over Syrinna, determined that no harm would come to her.

*******

They came under the cover of darkness.

Wallen was woken by the frantic ringing of alarm bells filling the valley. At first he couldn’t understand what was happening. The bells had never been used in his lifetime. Most people were content to leave them alone because they were so removed from civilization, and even if one wanted to destroy them, it was nearly impossible to get an army through the mountains undetected. And yet, even before he reached the window to see what was happening, the sound of fighting echoed throughout the valley.

Outside, chaos reigned. Their attackers seemed to be made of shadow, silently slaughtering everyone that they came across. Fires raged, illuminating the darkness, but the flames could not seem to slow their enemy. Already Wallen could see dozens dead, their bodies lying in the grass or amongst the rubble of destroyed buildings.

Wallen ran from the window, stopping long enough to grab his sword before leaving the room. From the floor below he suddenly heard a thunderous crash that seemed to shake the citadel. He sprinted down the stairs into the main corridor, just in time for the entrance to explode inward, spraying rock, wood, and dust over everyone gathered there. Wallen was blinded by the dust, but heard the sound of shouting and clanging metal. He rubbed his eyes and opened them just in time to avoid a slash from one of the attackers. He sidestepped and swung his sword with inhuman speed, only to be blocked almost effortlessly. The being before him was dressed all in black, with only their eyes visible. Eyes that seemed to burn like fire. They pushed Wallen back, then narrowly missed him with another swing of their sword. Wallen backstepped, then from his hand let loose a stream of fire that engulfed his attacker. Though their clothing burned, they didn’t seem to feel it, as they quickly pushed through the fire to slash at Wallen again. Wallen narrowly dodged, then swung his sword under the attackers guard. To his relief, the blade cut through their leather armor into their chest. The attacker remained motionless for a moment, their expression blank, then dropped by Wallen’s feet.

Before Wallen could turn to face another enemy, another thunderous crash shook the citadel, and part of the ceiling near the entrance collapsed. Wallen covered his face as the dust cloud engulfed him, lowering his arm in time to see more shadow warriors enter the corridor, followed by a woman in red. Her face was as white as a skull, contrasted by her shoulder length ebony hair. Wallen suddenly felt fear unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life. Whoever, whatever this woman was, he knew she was behind the attack. And with that revelation came another thought, frantic and unbidden.

Syrinna!

Three of the remaining Draconians charged at the woman as the others fell upon the shadow warriors. She didn’t so much as flinch before raising a hand and sending forth a wave of crimson energy that tore through them effortlessly.

Rage and horror filled Wallen, but he forced himself not to act on the feelings. As much as he hated himself for it, he knew the battle was lost. He couldn’t defeat this enemy. None of them could. But there was something he could do, if it wasn’t too late.

As the shadow warriors cut down the last of the Draconians before them, they turned towards Wallen. Before they could advance, however, he hurled a ball of concentrated fire to the ceiling. A blinding explosion filled the room as what remained of the ceiling collapsed upon them. Wallen didn’t wait to see if it had killed them, though. He darted from the corridor towards the twins quarters. They were gone, hopefully escaped, but most likely killed. Crying on one of their beds, however, was Syrinna.

She stopped crying as she saw him, though fear and confusion continued to fill her face.

“We have to go, little one,” he said softly, scooping her into his arms and running from the chamber.

Whether because she somehow understood the gravity of the situation or because Wallen’s presence comforted her enough, Syrinna remained silent as he ran towards the back of the citadel. From behind them, Wallen could hear the sounds of doors being kicked in as the attackers searched for survivors hiding. He longed to face them, to at least be able to tell himself that he died defending whatever survivors there may be. But his promise to Taugomir echoed in his head, and so he fled with Syrinna, blasting a hole in the back wall and running towards the mountains.

As he reached the edge of the valley, he paused and turned back. Much of the valley was ablaze, and as he watched, the citadel collapsed in on itself. He shut his eyes, forcing the tears back as a knot tightened in his throat. They were all gone, all of his brothers and sisters. Taken by monsters in the night. Despite his best efforts, tears leaked from his eyes down his face. He wanted to howl into the night, to release all of the pain he felt in that moment, but he didn’t dare. Not yet. Not now.

Instead, he turned and continued to sprint into the mountains, Syrinna safe in his arms. Despite the horrors of the night, the enemy had failed. The Draconians lived on. And with this thought to fuel him, Wallen disappeared into the night, carrying with him Taugomir’s hope.