A Dawn of Dragonfire - By Daniel Arenson Page 0,40

to greater darkness, and the book seemed so heavy in her arms, Lyana wanted to lie down, to place her head against the floor, and to sleep until this nightmare ended. But she kept walking—for Mori's eyes full of grief and hope, for the memory of Orin, for her family, for all those who prayed and wept around her.

I am a soldier, she told herself. Whatever horror dawn brings, I will face it. She walked through blood, fear, and pain, head high and heart trembling.

ELETHOR

He stood in the wine cellar, arms crossed and head lowered, staring at the cobbled floor where centuries of boots had trodden. Dozen of oak caskets rose around him, holding wine from Requiem's vineyards. If we go to siege, he thought, at least we can get royally drunk before the Tirans break down our doors.

He had chosen this cellar as his war room. My father ruled among columns of marble and gold; I think caskets of wine are a far wiser choice for a king. He did not know how long he'd live to rule. Perhaps future poets would sing of the Drunk King—Elethor Aeternum who was crowned in darkness, reigned from a wine cellar, and died the next day.

He sighed and turned around. Lyana and Mori stood there, staring at him with solemn eyes. Their ancient codices lay on a scarred table between rolled-up maps, mugs of wine, daggers, and a helmet. Around them stood the rest of his inner council: Lord Deramon, a bloody bandage covering his neck; Mother Adia, her eyes solemn and her white robes splashed with blood; and their son, Bayrin, ash in his red hair and fire in his green eyes.

They want me to fight, Elethor thought. Even Mori. He couldn't help it; he laughed bitterly.

"You can't be serious," he said and slapped the old books. "A magical disk that can extinguish sunfire? A Starlit Demon? My nurse told me such stories at bedtime—until I was about nine and stopped believing them."

Bayrin raised an eyebrow and whistled. "Well, there's a trick. I never believed in phoenixes either, until about ten thousand of them nearly burned my backside to a crisp." He clutched the hilt of his sword. "I don't know if this Stardisk or Moonlight Demon are real, but I'd rather go find a fairytale than surrender to your old flame, El—literally an old flame, in this case."

Face still ashy from the battle, Lyana glared at her brother. "It's the Moondisk and the Starlit Demon, you dolt. And it's not about what you'd rather do. It's about our best chance of saving lives. You might want to go on some adventure in the great outdoors, not caring if the Tirans kill us all in the meanwhile, but I'm sure Elethor cares." She looked at him and sighed. "At least I hope you do, El."

He looked into her green eyes and saw the fear in them. They were all afraid, he knew, even grizzled Lord Deramon.

What would my father do? Elethor thought. What would Orin do? They would rally the troops. They would never surrender. They would fight at all costs. He closed his eyes. And they are dead, while I survived.

He dug his fingernails into his palms. It wasn't fair. He didn't want to be king. He didn't want to make these decisions. He had never asked for this, for any of this! He was only Elethor, the young prince, the sculptor. How did he end up here, bearing the yoke of monarchy, his people depending on him, waiting for his decree? He opened his eyes and looked at them, one by one. A gruff warrior. A priestess. A friend. A betrothed. A sister.

He let his eyes linger on Mori, his dearest love, the last living member of his family. She stared back at him, eyes soft and damp, face so pale. She was a frail, pretty thing, and more than anything Elethor wanted to protect her. If I surrender to Solina, what would become of my sister? Of Lyana and Adia? Of the other women who hide in these tunnels? Elethor was no soldier, but he knew enough of war and conquest. Solina's men would plunder our halls, eat our food, ravage our women. They would spare our lives, but they would make those lives miserable.

And what of him? If he accepted Solina's offer, he would need travel south with her, rule by her side in Tiranor. She still loved him; he'd seen that in her eyes, felt it