A Night of Dragon Wings - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,83
time than you, Bayrin Eleison. Now sit down and don't be rude. We have a council to attend."
Blinking in amazement, Bayrin landed upon one of the boulders. His tail flicked against the grass below, and a silvery rune glowed upon his perch, warming him. Mori landed upon another stone, and the high priest Nehushtan flew to hover above another. All the stones were now occupied, the stars shone, and the council began.
"An ancient evil has fallen upon our land," said Nehushtan. He blinked, and his great white lashes fanned the grass below. "Thousands of winters have passed since blood spilled in our land, and we were young. We saw the demons of the Abyss rise to crawl upon the earth, and we saw them choose mortal brides. We watched, weeping, as their spawn grew into rotted giants, as the Fallen Ones—the nephilim—roamed the world, neither men nor demons, half-breeds torn in anguish. We watched them burn trees, smash rocks, and feast upon living flesh. We fought them. We slew them. Now they rise again, and we weep, for our sons and daughters have fallen and now fly among the stars."
The salvanae all looked up toward the Draco constellation and sang prayers, for the true dragons—like the Vir Requis—worshipped the stars of Draco.
They too are Draco's children, Bayrin thought. They too are dragons. They are cousins to us Vir Requis—different from us, but sharing our light. He sang their prayers with them.
As they sang to the stars, he looked at Mori. She sat beside him upon a boulder engraved with a crescent rune. She was looking skyward, and the starlight glimmered in her eyes and upon her scales. Warmth filled Bayrin in the cold night. He reached out his tail and coiled it around hers. She looked at him softly and nodded, and their tails braided together in a warm grip.
Other dragons spoke next. Treale spoke of seeing Solina raise these beasts in Irys, capital of her desert realm, and send them to feed upon dragon flesh. Piri spoke too, talking of King Elethor and his camp in the eastern forests where a thousand Vir Requis lived. Finally Bayrin himself spoke, describing Elethor's wrath and plans to invade Tiranor and slay its queen. Only Mori did not speak, but every time the word nephilim was uttered, she gave his tail a squeeze.
The salvanae elders talked too. They talked as the stars wheeled above: of Solina's evil, of the souls of the fallen, of the sadness in their hearts. They bugled to the sky their rage and mourning.
Bayrin listened to them pray, talk, and sing, and slowly fire grew inside him. He mourned too—for his slain parents, for his fallen friends, for his kingdom that lay in ruins. Yet perched here upon this stone, he found mostly rage inside him—a rage against Solina's cruelty and the murder of so many. Finally he could bear it no longer. He released Mori's tail. With three great flaps of his wings, he rose to hover above the henge, and he blasted fire skyward.
"Hear me!" he said. "We have mourned here for hours, and the stars have turned; soon dawn will rise. I'm done weeping! Solina brought death here. She bought blood and misery. I say we repay her in kind." He blasted more flames; they danced against the dragons' scales. "I am a warrior of Draco. You can fight too. Fly east with me to King Elethor and his camp. We'll join our forces there, and we'll fly south as one… and we'll slay this mad queen upon her desert." He sounded his roar. "What say you?"
At his right side, Piri and Treale both snarled, flapped their own wings, and tossed their heads back. Lavender and black dragons, they blew pillars of fire skyward. Heat blasted Bayrin to his left, and he turned to see Mori roaring her own fire. Bayrin joined his fire to theirs. Four flaming pillars crackled and spun and blasted heat, and the dragons of Requiem sounded their roars.
The salvanae looked at one another, and their bushy eyebrows furrowed. They were peaceful beings, wise and ancient and sad, and yet now their lips peeled back, and their fangs shone, and they became terrible to behold. A fire burned in their eyes, and lightning crackled in their maws, and for the first time, Bayrin saw them not as old wise priests, but as warriors.
They tossed back their heads and roared their wrath, and they shot lighting to the stars.