A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,2

dragons burned, and in the pain of death, their magic vanished. Three more bodies tumbled.

"Mori!" her brother cried from the inferno. Flames engulfed him, white around his silver scales. His wings churned the fire, showering sparks like exploding suns. "Mori, run! Hide!"

"Orin…," she whispered, trembling, clutching her hands behind her back.

"Mori, run!" he cried as the phoenixes tore into him. Their beaks thrust, woven of hardened fire. Their claws dug into him. Their flames surrounded him. Orin Aeternum, Son of Olasar, Prince of Requiem… lost his magic, turned from dragon to burning man, and fell from the sky.

Something tore inside Mori. Her heart shattered. A pain splintered in her chest and shot through her. A cry fled her lips, and before she knew it, she had shifted into a dragon. Golden scales clinked across her, her wings flapped, and she flew into the southern fire.

"Orin, where are you?" she cried, swooping through flame. The fire blazed around her, so hot she could only squint, and her scales felt ready to melt. Three phoenixes dived toward her, each larger than her. Their shrieks tore at her ears. They clawed at her scales, and Mori screamed, tumbled, flapped her wings, and howled. She soared, knocked by them, and rose through an inferno of heat and sound and rage. Everywhere she looked were blazing eyes, beaks of fire, talons that lashed her. She soared higher, burst between them, and swooped again. She had to find her brother. She had to find her Orin, her dear Orin, her hero, her only chance for life. She knocked between phoenixes and falling dragons, crashed toward the earth, and saw him lying in snow.

His clothes smoked. Singed black, they clung to his melted flesh. Half his face was a burnt ruin, red and black and blistering. His skin peeled. He gazed at her with one good eye, and his lips worked, trying to whisper, trying to call to her.

"Oh, Orin," she whispered, horror pounding through her. He was alive. She could still save him. She lifted him with her claws, as gently as she could, but he cried hoarsely and his eyes rolled back.

Was he dead? Had she killed him? She had no time to check. The phoenixes swooped down, an army of wrath, and Mori took flight. Fire bathed her. She shot through flames, wings churning smoke.

I'm the fastest dragon in Requiem, Orin always said so, I can do this. She screamed and emerged from the flames, her brother's limp human form in her claws. The phoenix army on her tail, she flew over the walls of Castellum Luna, down into the courtyard, and landed by the doors of their hall.

They cannot enter, she told herself. They're too big. She placed Orin upon the flagstones, shifted back into a human girl, and pushed the doors. They creaked open, revealing a hall full of trestle tables, tapestries, and spears.

The phoenixes shrieked behind her. Their heat blasted her. Mori raced into the hall, dragged her brother inside, and saw countless phoenixes descending into the courtyard. She slammed the doors shut as they landed, sealing their fire outside.

"Mori…," Orin whispered, voice hoarse. "Mori, leave me… fly north. Fly to Nova Vita."

Mori pulled a lever, dropping the doors' bar into the brackets. She stood panting. Could the phoenixes break the doors? They were thick and banded in iron, built to withstand fire and axe. And what of the other dragons? Stars, were any still alive, and had she doomed them to death? She trembled.

The phoenixes screeched outside. Their light glowed under the doors, and tongues of fire reached around the frames. They began slamming at the doors, howling. Mori whimpered with every jolt.

I must go deeper, she thought. Into the dungeon. The door there is small, too small for them.

She leaned over Orin, and her breath left her. Tears filled her eyes. Half his face was gone, melted away. Half his body was a wound of welts, smoke, and seared cloth clinging to flesh. Mori gagged, for a moment able to do nothing else. Then she steeled herself. The phoenixes were lashing at the doors. She had to save her brother.

She looked at the eastern wall. A small door stood open there, revealing a staircase that plunged into shadow. Mori tightened her lips. The dungeon of Castellum Luna lay down those stairs. The place had always frightened her—she would imagine ghosts lurking in its shadows—but today she would seek safety there.

"Come on, Orin!" she said, placed her arms around him,

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