HERESY
The white robbed guardian who’d taken the Crasher’s crew to the surface and escorted them to a large amphitheater showed this was to be the site of their meeting and excused himself. Akamori watched him leave, and Amara couldn’t help rib him.
“You want to fight him, don’t you?”
Akamori shrugged, “Well, yeah. Why not? How often do you meet a guy that makes an entrance like that?”
“Rarely.” Amara conceded.
Akamori turned his attention to the grand amphitheater before them. Cut into the stonework of the spire itself, it looked more like a cave than anything constructed. Shaped by earth magic if Akamori had to guess. Something contracted? Or maybe a gift?
Each opening in the wall led into darkness. The openings were all uniform, with none any larger than 20 meters. Considering they descended the spire into the basement level, it was possible those tunnels all branched out into private offices if dragons had need of such things. While the squad waited, runes began glowing on the edges of each of the openings until glowing eyes lit up in each of the tunnel openings. Soon, twenty dragons crept into the light that shone down through the hole in the ceiling. The two rows of ten cut an intimidating visage before the squad. Akamori felt infinitely small just now.
A blue wyrm with golden eyes crept forwards, head held confidently high as he sized up the squad like a hawk eyeing a group of field mice. To their credit, the squad held firm, defiant and mildly annoyed with the theatrics on display. Captain Morwen, especially, whose primary interest was Theferis and a potential alliance between the Federation and the dragons. After a moment of intentional silence on behalf of the dragon, Morwen spoke first, niceties be damned.
“I am Captain Morwen of the Mage Federation,” she announced.
A deep rumbling chuckle rumbled up the dragon’s long through. His head shifted to lower closer to their level, the gesture seeming to take effort. They were beneath him. “It doesn’t matter what your name is, little elf. Or why you’ve come.”
“Then why are we here?”
Akamori saw Morwen’s hands clench into fists behind her back for a moment before relaxing again.
“Because my peers and I are trying to figure out if we want to eat you now or see if you can amuse us.”
“If your boredom is your only priority, then allow me to continue. At best you’ll have your amusement. And at worst, you’ll have a mouthy meal.”
The dragon’s scaled lips quirked. His head shifted as he studied Morwen, as if just now seeing her. “Very well. Continue, child of the trees.”
“As I was saying. We’re here on a diplomatic mission. We wish to seek your audience to bid for an alliance with the Mage Federation.”
Hushed whispers and occasional chortling issued from the dragons in the back. The large blue dragon still held the floor, and thus dominated Morwen’s attention, however. If she failed to get through him, this might be a wash. Somehow, she had to get through to them and find some commonality. But her options were limited. She glanced back at Akamori, a slight frown on her features.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head no. He understood what she was about to do next, and for that, she was thankful. Even if it didn’t make it any easier to do.
“I’ve also come to return some errant children home. I have in my squad, Akamori Shinjo, and Amara of Hoshun’s Temple of worship.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, the whispers ceased, and all eyes locked on Akamori. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and his hand slid unconsciously to Thanaton’s hilt. Well. That answered one of her questions. So they knew.
“Judging by your reactions, I’m going to assume you already know who he is. Which saves me the time of explaining who he is.”
The blue dragon’s head shifted quickly to just a few feet in front of Morwen. His teeth as long as her shins and pointed like swords. “HERESY! You! Silence, you slant eared tree child. Why have you brought a kinslayer here? Least of all, the one who killed Ashkatoph!”
The blue dragon bellowed and carried on, but it did not convince Morwen of its authenticity. This felt too contrived for her taste. More theatrics. She wasn’t certain, but felt confident that were it not for a lack of information, they might have tried to devour Akamori on the spot. A new dragon pushed forward, one less assertive than the blue one.
“Keimut, please. Every story has an explanation.”
“None is needed! He’s a kinslayer! That alone is worth his death. We should feast upon him now.”
“Come now, you know mother would disapprove of such hasty actions.”
“And what other actions might you suggest?”
A figure rippled into existence right next to Akamori clad in a formfitting black outfit. Akamori instantly recognized his attacker. She smelled the same as the day she attacked him. Why had he only just sensed her now? It should have been impossible to evade his senses. Maybe it had something to do with her outfit?
“I have a suggestion, if the council would hear it?”
“Rider Astri. Please. Speak. This matter has weight for your house most of all.”
“Indeed. Considering it might mean its eradication. Thus. I propose we send him on the Death March and allow Mother to be his judge. If he dies during the trial, you have your blood. And if mother deems him worthy, then her will is irrefutable.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
The dragon named Keimut’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He turned to the other dragon. “Fine. We’ll go with the Rider’s suggestion. It matters little since he won’t make it to mother for his judgement to matter Azil.”
“Of course Keimut.” She bowed her head to him deferentially.
Morwen was beginning to understand who the key players were just from the little interaction they had so far. But she was dramatically out of her element here.
“Tree child. You will be given quarters here in the spire. I will summon you to discuss your proposal further after I’ve taken your measure. Now go, before I change my mind.”
Akamori blinked. “Do I even get a word in this?”
Astri shook her head. Long black hair braided together behind her, shaking gently. “It was best you didn’t. Angering them now could have upset them enough to trigger their predatory instincts. This buys us time and places your survival purely on your shoulders.”
“Morwen turned to regard Astri for a moment. “You must be Akamori’s unknown assailant. I get the impression your suggestion was to help him. Why the change of heart?”
Astri kept silent, and Morwen got the hint. Astri’s secrets weren’t for Morwen to know. This was a family matter then. Very well. She couldn’t begrudge the lieutenant that. After all, he’d nearly died for her own family matters. Seemed only fair that his own should be next in line for his head.
“I’ll take your silence to mean it’s complicated. Very well. I’ll leave him in your care, then.”
Morwen was mindful of the fact they were still within earshot if any dragons wanted to be nosy. If any of them suspected they would cannot honor whatever this death march tradition was, it wouldn’t bode well for their other missions. Whatever complication they’d inadvertently stumbled into, she’d have to trust that Akamori would see his way through. That didn’t mean she didn’t have misgivings about the way things were already shaping up. It had Ominek’s scales all over it.
After a few more moments of awkward silence, she finally nodded to Astri. “Right then. We’ll be off.”
As the squad turned to leave, SGT. Sirsir paused and turned back to Akamori. Morwen could see the unspoken words of protest in his expression. “Actually, I’m gonna stick with the Eltee. Make sure he doesn’t get himself into any more trouble than he already is.”
Morwen gave an assenting nod. She had no protests and turned to Akamori who just shrugged.
“Welcome to the party I guess.” Akamori said sheepishly after a recriminating look from Astri.
Morwen led the squad towards the main exit of the Spire, their escort in white robes resuming his role. Morwen turned back to Akamori one last time, a pinch of anxiety gripping at her gut. She wanted to use her ability to see possible futures, but her lack of expertise with it meant she couldn’t see that far ahead yet. She’d only mastered the ability to see moments at worst, minutes ahead, tops.
As the mid afternoon sun’s daylight spilled in through the Spire’s main entranceway, Morwen whispered a prayer of protection to the Lady of Light to guide their way in the darkness’s uncertainty ahead. For an instant, she felt warm and tingly, like she’d just managed a soft buzz on light wine. And then the sensation was gone. She continued walking, not giving it another thought.
Akamori shifted uncomfortably on the heels of his boots next to Astri. Sirsir’s large form rounding out their odd looking trio. Without a word, Astri broke into silent stride, swiftly marching ahead of them at what for her appeared to be a casual pace. For Akamori and Sirsir however, it was almost a full jog. The two men glanced at each other and carried off after her.
Emerging from a smaller entrance in the spire’s rear from what amounted to a peasant’s entrance, Akamori and Sirsir followed Astri down a beaten dirt path that descended a steep hill with narrow paths that wound down to ground level. Below them, a small village of modest huts made of mud and straw dotted the landscape as the familiar sight of farmers working fields greeted him. The Dragon Rider’s had long been a staple of draconic military might. Now they were relegated to little more than crop farmers and land workers. Akamori’s father often told him tales of the last Dragonsong war where the riders piloted massive mechanical spell armors to do combat alongside their dragons. Honshu had no Rider mechs, their parts long since stripped and appropriated for other uses. He’d half expected to see some here at the heart of what remained of the old seat of power.
“This was not what I was expecting.” He muttered.
“Why not?” Sirsir asked from behind him as they carefully navigated the path down.
Akamori shook his head, unable to put his finger on why. It just felt off. “I don’t know. My father told legends of this being the heart of an empire that lasted generations. But look around. These are farmers, not warriors. This place hasn’t seen glory in a long time.”
Sirsir nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t seem like they’ve risen too high in society, though.”
“The Dragons do not view the Riders as equals. Always chattel among the dragons. They horde us like treasures. Most of those you see here belong to Keimut. But do not let our modest lifestyle fool you. We may not have much, but we’re every bit the warrior as your family on Honshu, if not more. The branch families were selected and deployed because the host families stood the most to lose. Your family was chosen because it was unremarkable on the battlefield. They viewed Honshu as… punitive assignment.”
“What about you? How do you feel about the branch families now?”
Astri gave Akamori to stern look before softening an octave. “Your defense on the ship was more than I’d expected from the last survivor of Honshu. You acquitted yourself decently.”
“In other words, when you couldn’t eighty six the Eltee, you cut tail and ran because you knew you’d bit off more than you could chew. It’s ok to be honest. Ain’t no one here gonna judge. Least of all me.”
Akamori gave Sirsir a flat look.
“What?”
“I wasn’t judging her that hard.”
“We’re here.” Astri said, stopping at a mud hut that the two assumed belonged to her. She wove a quick dispel spell and a series of interlocking runes shattered the barrier magic, allowing smooth entry. She brushed aside a modest azure curtain and gestured for them to enter.
“You have tonight to prepare for your death.”
“No pressure.” Akamori joked.
Astri didn’t smile as she followed them inside.
“Tough crowd,” Akamori sulked.