Arin and Scor made it back to the castle before the sun rose. The guards stopped them at the front gate, but within a minute of talking and explanation, the two could enter the courtyard.
Poor Scor was incredibly tired, longing for a nap. Arin was no exception. The two decided that sleeping in the Dragons’ Den would be best. Inside this tall and wide stable were hundreds of pedestals. Hammocks were strung between some of the towers. Griffins and mini dragons slept in some. Scor took her to his platform. There were pillows, and an empty water bowl.
Arin lied on a pillow, incredibly comfortable. Scor was already asleep. She smiled. Closing her eyes, she fell asleep as well.
There were no dreams, just darkness and rest. She had no idea how much time passed.
Someone shook her awake, ending her sleep. Arin didn’t want to wake, not yet. Whoever it was repeated her name. Over and over.
She opened her eyes. Standing above her was Gage and Igneous. Arin sat up, bumping into Scor behind her.
“You’re alive . . . what a miracle!” Igneous smiled. “We were just about to send several patrols out looking for you.”
“When did you return?”
“Right before the sun, it was early that’s for sure. Both of us were too tired, you probably were asleep too. We just couldn’t stay awake any longer.” Scor sighed, sitting up. “We should probably go talk to Mila, yeah?”
Gage nodded, backing away from the two. “Yes, yes. Hurry before everyone gets ready for nothing.”
Arin stood, stretching her arms. Scor spread his wings, allowing his flightless partner to mount. Several stared at the four, gossiping to one another.
Igneous and Gage showed the two out, gliding to the tall entrance. The sun was high already. Several out training. Mila and his generals were waiting for them.
Scor landed next to Igneous and Gage, avoiding Mila’s gaping stare. Arin dismounted, rubbing her arm. She was going to receive such an awful lecture.
He ran forward and hugged Arin, lifting her off the ground. For the smallest second, she thought she was being attacked. Arim opened her mouth to speak, but was set down again. Mila brushed her hair off her face. The way he stared at her, bewildered to see her unharmed.
“You—you’re okay?”
“I am.”
He hugged her again, sighing. “I am so glad. So glad that you came home safe.”
Hawthorne came forward, “where are your burns? Where were you?”
“Well,” she noticed Oshwa at the back of the crowd, “I fought with you. I lead Croun away and we fought . . .”
“That must have been why there was a delay in the attack. I should be mad but we were able to escape so . . . thank you.” Hawthorne smiled.
“How was she healed though? Her burns, were they not bad?”
“Before the battle, she was already healing. It is odd though, tell us everything that happened once you lead them away, Arin.”
She glanced at Scor before explaining everything. Time to time, her partner would add in some small details, or agree that certain things happened. They told Mila and his generals how Croun wanted her dead, how Dargon saved them from death. How Anolum taught her how to summon white fire. How Scor was taught how to release special lightning.
“So Croun wants you dead now . . .” Mila sighed, “that is incredibly worrisome. Arin, please trust me when I say that you must stay hidden. You barely survived Croun, and next time you may not be so lucky.”
“Sir, Croun thinks she is dead. If she remains hidden and trains . . .”
“I like your thinking, Oshwa. We can think about it more later. We should just be grateful that she is home! True, it is sad that we lost yet another fort but everyone is okay. We can claim it back.”
“Shall we go plan then?”
“Yes. Hawthorne, please tell everyone that the search is cancelled. Oshwa, you will be needed to help us see the future. Arin, Scor, feel free to rest.”
The crowd left. Gage and Igneous followed their partners inside. Arin and Scor remained still, watching the Crimsons leave. Scor tilted his head, clueless about what he should be doing.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“We can just . . . do whatever?”
“Training seems like the best idea. See, they pushed us away again. We almost died. We have to improve.”
Scor sighed, nodding once. “I guess you’re right. What should we—”
“Hey, you two!” a woman on a pegasus swooped down. She had an Other cloak in her arms. Scor noticed it as well, snarling. “No, no, please! Where is Mila, something terrible has happened!”
“How can we trust you?” Scor hissed, revealing his short teeth.
“I’m a spy, I—I,” she slid off her mount, keeping the cloak on the horse’s saddle. She whispered, “I have grave news. I have to report back to Mila but I have no idea where he is.”
Arin trusted her. She seemed honest. The fear in her expression was authentic. “He just went inside with his generals to plan on retaking a fort.”
“Thank you so much! You may want to come with me, you need to hear this. Everyone here needs to hear this.”
She began to run to the doors. Arin and Scor followed, anxious by this. Fear clenched her heart, something, involving her, was happening. Was Croun planning something?
Inside, the group was not far ahead. The spy called out to them, begging for them to stop. They did, facing her.
“Mila, sir!” She fell at his feet, trembling. “I am Honawa, a spy, sir. I—something has happened, sir!”
“A spy? Is this the season report?”
“No. I want to tell you just . . . I am afraid of other spies lurking around.”
Mila helped her stand, “we continue to the meeting room as planned. Except now, we should listen to this spy’s sad story.”
The group continued, allowing Arin and Scor to join them. They climbed to the seventh floor. Scor barely fit in the staircase, wings tightly pressed against his ribs.
The spy said nothing as they climbed, merely trembling and whispering to Mila. Oshwa kept glancing back at Arin, worried. Did he know? Without his sphere could he know something like this?
Finally, they reached the top, Arin and Scor out of breath. The two hurried after the group, none of them were exhausted after such a climb. A Crimson hurried ahead and opened a door for everyone, bowing his head. Arin and Scor caught up, not wanting the gentleman to wait on them.
Everyone took a seat at the long table. This was the same place where she had the War Council meeting or whatever. Scor looked around, awed by its size.
The spy was offered a chair, allowing her to rest. All eyes rested on her. Honawa swallowed before speaking. “Sir . . . something terrible has happened. I was p—placed at the front lines. All was well, no one suspected anything! Then, a few days ago, Croun made an order . . .” she sighed, breath choppy.
“Settle down, I’m sure you’ve been through a lot.”
“Croun . . . he released everyone from their duties. Not a single soul was left. We were all forced to pack our bags and fly home that very night!” Everyone straightened, staring at her with open mouths. Oshwa frowned, folding his arms and sitting back. Arin focused back on the spy. “I made a risky move and flew back here immediately. I was discovered but managed to escape.”
“That was very brave of you. What of the other spies?” a Crimson asked. He looked familiar, only his identity concealed.
“They are trapped with the Others. I could only save myself . . .” she looked down, “I’m sorry.”
“If all forces were pulled back that makes them vulnerable! We could strike and—”
“I would dare dream that they would be so open. I believe you, Honawa, but . . . Croun doing such a move . . .”
“Sir, if I may,” Oshwa cleared his throat. “Honawa, I believe you. I truly do, but you are missing something. Something so small, I do not blame you.”
“Oshwa, please be blunt.”
“There is a conflict between the spirits. The Abyssals have sided with Croun. The regular spirits are still neutral,” his lie flowed so naturally, Arin was stunned. “Croun plans on using Abyssals now, that is my guess.”
“They are spirits though! What could they do to us?”
“Mind control, I know that much. Perhaps more. Remember what happened with Coyasko.”
Some gasped. Arin rubbed Scor’s head to ease herself.
“I have never heard of this Abyssal talk while I was there. Are you sure?”
“I trust Oshwa,” Mila assured, “but we cannot rush into this situation blindly. You must find a way to learn without your sphere, Oshwa.”
“Of course, sir. I will work on it after this meeting.”
“All of you be on guard. These Abyssal monsters could strike at any time. Honawa, we thank you for your services. You may join our forces or retire now.”
“I’ll have to think about it, sir.”
Mila nodded, looking back to Oshwa. “Please find an answer for us soon. We are counting on you.”
“Arin will help me. Together we will find the path to victory.”
Me? Did he just say my name?
“I trust that. This meeting is adjourned, we will plan on retaking the fort when we have more information on these Abyssals. Do not tell others about this update. We can have no panic.”
Everyone stood, chairs grinding against the stone. Mila walked around the table, being the first to leave. Shortly after his departure, everyone cleared out. No one was talking.
Arin, Scor, and Oshwa were walking together. The soothsayer lead the two somewhere.
“Why do you need our help?” Scor trotted next to Oshwa.
“Arin used to have visions. You two are the Fire of Truth. I’m sure you will be of good help.”
“Well, uh—where—?”
“We are going to the sanctuary. There I believe we will find our answers.”