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Authors: Marc Secchia
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than worthy of some of Nak’s effusive poetry. No wonder Dragons loved to fly.
She slipped off her shoes with a pleased sigh and stowed them in her starboard saddlebag. Even the wind on her bare toes felt lovely. Crescent Isles mud? That would have been perfection itself.
He said, “I didn’t make you cry, did I?”
Wretchedly perceptive Dragon senses! “I was remembering Zardon.”
“And you’re moved by the draconic need to avenge?”
She considered this. “Partly. Partly the wish to save my friends, or as many of the Lesser Dragons as possible. Partly the wish to prove myself. To prove my humanity … er, my dragon–how do you say that? Dragonicity? Dragonishness? Anyways, to prove that I will use the powers I’ve been granted to the best of my ability, for the greater good.”
“Noble thoughts,” the Dragon commented without levity or mockery. “You’re a jungle warrior. Do you see yourself as animal? You threatened to undo me with your animal powers, as I recall.”
“That was a bluff–well, not entirely. I suppose I am closer to the animal kingdom than some. Master Ga’am advised me not to fear a lack of humanity, but to turn my savage upbringing into a source of strength. Ay, he called me a savage. He didn’t mean it badly, I don’t think.”
The Dragon disagreed with a choked-off roar.
Pip patted his shoulder with her bare foot. “Thanks, Silver.”
He added, “In Herimor you’ll find many creatures that imitate Humans and Dragons, and many more varieties of Shapeshifters than you seem to have north of the Rift. We call these the many manifestations of life, for Herimor philosophy equates life with magic. In recent decades the Dragon Shapeshifters have risen to prominence above the other races. They rule the pyramid of power. And the Marshal himself is a White Dragon of great power and guile in battle.”
Odd how his Dragon spoke more formally than his Human manifestation. Pip had the impression he might even be quoting from scroll-lore.
“He’s a Star Dragon?” she inquired.
“No, but I have heard it said that he has legendary powers–Kinetic ability, for example, by which he levitated his Island, coupled with shielding capable of protecting us all during our perilous journey across the Rift. He seemed able to source power from the Rift storms themselves. Would you like to hear the tale?”
“Would a Pygmy love to fly?”
“Ay,” he chuckled.
Rumours of Marshal Re’akka’s discovery of a First Egg triggered an invasion by his bitter, lifelong enemy, Marshal X’arth, who at the head of an army of veteran Dragons razed seventeen Islands almost unopposed. Then, without any warning whatsoever, the proverbial Island flipped on its head. Re’akka rose. In his White Dragon manifestation, he rose against eighty-five powerful Dragons armoured for war, and singlehandedly struck half of them down with his opening blow. The balance, he ensorcelled with what Silver later came to realise was the Shadow-beast’s help, and lured them inside his Island of Eridoon.
X’arth’s defeat–a swift and punishing affair–so alarmed the other Marshals of the Northern Kahilate region of Herimor that they assembled six Dragonwings supported by six armies of Human troops, Heripedes and Jagok lizards. En masse, they laid siege to Eridoon Island.
Silver added, “We did not realise that the initial conflict had depleted Re’akka so severely. Then, he had only a fraction of the strength he possesses now. And had we understood his debilitation or his plans for the future, we might have risen to overthrow the Marshal. But he was cunning. Devious. He directed us to defend the Island, and a bitter, attritional siege it was. Months long. Battle after battle. Horrific injuries–you don’t want to know, Pip.”
The food shortage became so critical, some Dragons resorted to cannibalism. Pip gasped reflexively. Dragons eating Dragons? She had never imagined …
With the forces of the rival Marshals
She slipped off her shoes with a pleased sigh and stowed them in her starboard saddlebag. Even the wind on her bare toes felt lovely. Crescent Isles mud? That would have been perfection itself.
He said, “I didn’t make you cry, did I?”
Wretchedly perceptive Dragon senses! “I was remembering Zardon.”
“And you’re moved by the draconic need to avenge?”
She considered this. “Partly. Partly the wish to save my friends, or as many of the Lesser Dragons as possible. Partly the wish to prove myself. To prove my humanity … er, my dragon–how do you say that? Dragonicity? Dragonishness? Anyways, to prove that I will use the powers I’ve been granted to the best of my ability, for the greater good.”
“Noble thoughts,” the Dragon commented without levity or mockery. “You’re a jungle warrior. Do you see yourself as animal? You threatened to undo me with your animal powers, as I recall.”
“That was a bluff–well, not entirely. I suppose I am closer to the animal kingdom than some. Master Ga’am advised me not to fear a lack of humanity, but to turn my savage upbringing into a source of strength. Ay, he called me a savage. He didn’t mean it badly, I don’t think.”
The Dragon disagreed with a choked-off roar.
Pip patted his shoulder with her bare foot. “Thanks, Silver.”
He added, “In Herimor you’ll find many creatures that imitate Humans and Dragons, and many more varieties of Shapeshifters than you seem to have north of the Rift. We call these the many manifestations of life, for Herimor philosophy equates life with magic. In recent decades the Dragon Shapeshifters have risen to prominence above the other races. They rule the pyramid of power. And the Marshal himself is a White Dragon of great power and guile in battle.”
Odd how his Dragon spoke more formally than his Human manifestation. Pip had the impression he might even be quoting from scroll-lore.
“He’s a Star Dragon?” she inquired.
“No, but I have heard it said that he has legendary powers–Kinetic ability, for example, by which he levitated his Island, coupled with shielding capable of protecting us all during our perilous journey across the Rift. He seemed able to source power from the Rift storms themselves. Would you like to hear the tale?”
“Would a Pygmy love to fly?”
“Ay,” he chuckled.
Rumours of Marshal Re’akka’s discovery of a First Egg triggered an invasion by his bitter, lifelong enemy, Marshal X’arth, who at the head of an army of veteran Dragons razed seventeen Islands almost unopposed. Then, without any warning whatsoever, the proverbial Island flipped on its head. Re’akka rose. In his White Dragon manifestation, he rose against eighty-five powerful Dragons armoured for war, and singlehandedly struck half of them down with his opening blow. The balance, he ensorcelled with what Silver later came to realise was the Shadow-beast’s help, and lured them inside his Island of Eridoon.
X’arth’s defeat–a swift and punishing affair–so alarmed the other Marshals of the Northern Kahilate region of Herimor that they assembled six Dragonwings supported by six armies of Human troops, Heripedes and Jagok lizards. En masse, they laid siege to Eridoon Island.
Silver added, “We did not realise that the initial conflict had depleted Re’akka so severely. Then, he had only a fraction of the strength he possesses now. And had we understood his debilitation or his plans for the future, we might have risen to overthrow the Marshal. But he was cunning. Devious. He directed us to defend the Island, and a bitter, attritional siege it was. Months long. Battle after battle. Horrific injuries–you don’t want to know, Pip.”
The food shortage became so critical, some Dragons resorted to cannibalism. Pip gasped reflexively. Dragons eating Dragons? She had never imagined …
With the forces of the rival Marshals
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