I’d seen firsthand the scale of destruction of which dragons were capable of five years ago when Marevar was attacked. But after looking at the dragons fighting in the arena’s airspace, reduced to nothing but raw animal instinct and the need to tear their prey asunder, I was filled with a sense of awe and dread in equal measure. Each dragon was a killing machine, their claws and teeth tearing at their foes, and breathing fire that could melt armor like candle wax.

The people scattered like ants beneath them; many were not fortunate enough. Some were trampled by the dragons as they were smashed into the scenery, others were set ablaze by errant blasts of fire. One dragon had broken off from the rest, and, bloodied and bruised, turned its wrath on the civilians, believing them to be easier targets.

If this was what dragons were capable of unchecked, it was no wonder Ishmar had the most powerful military in the world. A single dragon was worth at least thirty men. It was an engine of destruction that rivaled magic itself. I watched in a stupor as the dragons continued their slaughter, only to be snapped out of it by Alicia who grabbed and shook me. When I turned to face her, she looked to be on the verge of tears.

“Please.” That was the only word that fell from her quivering lips. She ran to Alverd and did the same. Her gaze met Alverd’s, and his face hardened. He drew his sword, and ran down to where Deanna and the rest of the royal family were still standing, dumbstruck. He pushed past them, even Eliza, and disappeared into the dragon kennel beyond. But still I stood, rooted to the spot, staring at the dragons still screeching below me.

Only then did I notice something unusual. I focused my eyes and counted. There were six dragons flying around in the chaos below. One had already fallen to the arena’s floor, its gut torn in countless places by the cruel claws of the other dragons. Yet another was now terrorizing the peasantry fleeing the third floor, and three were having an airborne wrestling match while spewing fire in random directions. The final dragon was limping away from the body of the dead dragon, its wings a bloody mess.

Six. Six dragons before me. Only six members of the royal family still had dragons.

Deanna. Eliza. Shannon. Deacon. Leila. And Marcus.

What could Marcus possibly gain from poisoning his own dragon? According to his insane drivel, he planned to make war on the entire bloody world after he became king, so what good would it do him to sacrifice his most powerful tool in order to do so?

Then it hit me. Marcus was like a sinister chess-master. The one thing that struck me most about him was that he differed from all the villains in all the books I had ever read. He was completely willing to swallow his own pride in order to make us think he was a spoiled, empty-headed prince with no knowledge of battle or politics. No matter what indignity he would suffer, if it furthered his goals, nothing was off limits for him. He was already thinking three steps down the road while his opponent was dealing with the here and now.

And now he had sacrificed his queen to take the king.

The people of Ishmar would see him as a victim. That, in spite of losing what was a symbol of strength, he would rise above it and emerge a stronger, dedicated leader. They would see him as a man who would succeed in spite of the hardship and tragedy of losing his staunchest ally to his traitorous half-sister. The sheer scope, the magnitude of his scheming, finally hit me. It was a fiendishly brilliant plan. Hundreds, no, thousands, of patriotic young men and women would flock to join his armies. They would rally under his banner and declare war on his enemies. Like a plague, they would sweep over the land, consuming everything in their way. I tried to imagine the carnage that would be unleashed if the dragon riders were loosed upon the unsuspecting nations of this world like they were back in Marevar. There would be no war, only slaughter. Not even magic would be able to stop such an advance. What man or mage could stop an army of dragons? Where one dragon would be struck down, it would take dozens of men with it. Even then, ten dragons would replace it. A never-ending tide of fire and ash, raining down upon every country until only one remained. It didn’t take a genius to see what bleak future would come to pass.

It was a good plan. But it didn’t take into account a few things.

Alverd, for example. Or me.

I squinted through the chaos at the King’s private box to see he was no longer present; apparently the imposter had done his job and Marcus’s plan was in motion. I was about to inform Alicia of this development when another group of dragons burst from the kennel.

Riding one of the dragons was the unmistakable golden armor of an Ishmarian prince, wielding a lance with a long silver point. Marcus had taken a spare dragon and was winging his way up to where I stood, but I was more transfixed and horrified by what the dragon held in one of its scaly claws. I saw Alverd’s form struggling against the dragon’s clutches. Marcus steered the dragon up to the parapet where we stood, and landed brusquely, slamming Alverd to the ground. I heard a groan from my friend, but from where I stood he looked more or less intact. Thank the gods.

Almost as an afterthought, the dragon swept its claw across the ground and threw Alverd toward us. He landed in a clattering heap in front of me and I ran to him. His armor had been heavily dented where the dragon’s claws had dug in for a better grip, and long scratches ran across the already scarred plate. Alverd was gasping for breath, but he still had a death grip on his sword. Alicia and I assisted him in finding his feet.

Alverd weakly leveled his steel sword in front of him, waving it in Marcus’s direction. The prince looked down at us from where he was perched with the look of a predator spreading across his face. Like a shark, he bared his teeth at us, as if he were about to tear us apart himself. He urged the dragon forward. Up close, I could see that it was easily two times taller than me, all muscle and scale, and fire-breathing calamity given form. I reflexively took a step back, but at such close range, there was no escape from its fiery breath.

Alverd, however, wasn’t ready to back down from this fight. He was still trying to keep his sword arm steady.

“I see you had to bring a dragon into this, you baseborn coward. Why not fight me like a real man? Or are you more comfortable up there, plotting your childish schemes where nobody can hurt you?”

Marcus’s face scrunched up at that remark. “You confuse genius for cowardice. Foolish knights think their notion of honor must apply to everyone. You’ve got guts for someone who’s so obviously out of his league. Or maybe you’re just too stupid to know when to quit? That’s the problem with soldiers. They think they can solve everything with their weapons. Can’t see the bigger picture. ” Marcus gave his mount a swift kick to its side.

The dragon roared and unleashed a jet of scorching heat at us. I reacted without thinking, pushing Alverd aside and swatting aside the blast with my magic-fueled staff. The hastily conjured defensive spell barely held as the giant fireball slammed into the wall behind me, exploding fantastically. As impressive as the feat was, there was no way I’d be able to keep it up for much longer. The dragon shot another fireball at me, which I batted aside, this time feeling the exhaustion in my limbs. Marcus spurred the dragon even closer and the three of us were backed up against the wall at the top of the arena, the only way out was blocked by the dragon.

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I didn’t have the mental fortitude to conjure up another shield. They weren’t my speciality, and to try and erect them on such short notice was not something I could accomplish repeatedly, even if they were being used to block something a lot less intense than dragon fire. I tried to look intimidating, but my shaking knees gave me away. If Marcus struck now, I wouldn’t be able to protect Alverd and Alicia.

Marcus grinned again. “No one is more qualified than me to lead this country. Not Father, not our siblings, and certainly not you.” He pointed at Alicia. “The first thing I’ll do once I take power is to institute a new policy. Anyone who can’t prove their worth will be left to die. As! It! Should! Be!”

Marcus yanked the reins in his left hand, so that the dragon’s head up was level with our bodies. “I knew you would escape if I dangled your gear in front of your jail cell. I wonder if you had to kill any innocent guards to try and stop my plan. At this point, Alicia, with my plan already in motion, I figured there was no harm in hammering home how pointless any more of your struggling would be. I enjoy the idea of you soiling your hands with the blood of your own countrymen just to stop me.”

That bastard prince shrugged arrogantly. “Of course, there was a risk in letting you roam free, even if it was a minimal one. I could’ve taken Eliza’s advice and had you killed a long time ago. But if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to frame Algrustos for this tragedy.” His voice was dripping with mock sadness. “But somehow, you managed things no mage has ever been capable of. You should be dead several times over.”

I sneered. “What can I say? I just love messing up the plans of megalomaniacal madmen like you. I usually manage that at least twice a week, if I’m lucky.”

Marcus laughed at that. “Well I hope you enjoyed it, because now I am officially at the end of my patience. You know how it goes. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Not that he would know,” he jabbed a finger in Alverd’s direction, goading him. Then he looked back at me. “I suppose Eliza should’ve killed you when she had the chance. Her loss.”

Marcus kicked the dragon again; the dragon’s head shot forward and its jaws opened wide, revealing unbelievably sharp teeth. Alverd pushed me aside at the last second. Before I hit the ground, I heard the sound of metal giving way. I knew right then that Alverd was dead. The dragon’s fangs had pierced his armor. I raised my head hesitantly. I wasn’t ready to confront the death of my friend.

However, Alverd was still standing. The metallic sound had been his steel sword being snapped like a twig between the dragon’s teeth. Alverd stared at his once trustworthy sword, a memory of everything he had overcome. I saw the loss in his face as he watched the steadfast symbol of his lifelong dedication to chivalry become useless. The broken blade fell from his hand and clattered to the ground. Marcus sneered from atop his mount, seeing victory in my friend’s moment of anguish.

“Once a knight, always a knight. Like your precious sword your ideology will inevitably fail you. No one will miss your kind once you’re gone.” He leveled his lance, pointing it forward at Alverd like a jouster. “And Alicia! Still fighting even though you have no hope! Now you and your little pet knight can die together! You have no idea how pleased that makes me!”

I saw Alicia go and stand behind Alverd, bracing him as he fought to keep his footing. The princess looked smaller than ever before, despite radiating an aura of pure defiance.

Damn it! If this is how I was going to die, then I sure as hell aren’t going to die quietly. I went to stand beside my friend. I stared Marcus in the face, and let loose the little theory I’d left stewing in the back of my mind. No point in holding it back now, anyway.

“It’s fitting that you kill Alicia yourself, huh? I guess that’s fair, considering that the King favored her over you, you heartless zealot.”

Marcus’s face contorted in pure rage. I grinned smugly. I knew it. I had not only hit a nerve, but I’d done so with a salt-tipped harpoon. I continued, egged on by my success. “I guess the King realized that a man like you would only lead Ishmar to ruin, and it’s not hard to see why. It’s true that you’re clever. I mean, you had an almost airtight plan. But the one thing you couldn’t hide was your ambition. I bet your father knew you would destroy Ishmar with your blind greed. Couple that with the fact that your sister is a better choice thanks to her selfless love for her people, and it’s fairly obvious that the King wanted her to assume the throne.”

Emboldened by my words, I stepped forward. “Why else would the King allow Alicia to travel to the Nest with such a heavy escort? Why else would he give her the chance to regain a dragon to compete in the Tournament, despite such low odds of success? Why else would he allow her to train as a berserker before the required age? Because he wanted her to succeed. He just didn’t count on the fact that you would kill anyone in your way to make your plans come to fruition.” I smiled at Marcus accusingly, daring him to refute me.

“But it didn’t stop there. You’re so sick and twisted that you had to go further than that. You had to tarnish the thing your father loved most about Alicia: her pure soul. You forced her to kill Edgar to save him from what you would do to him. You forced her to take her own brother’s life to spare him, because you knew it would hurt your father even more to know that your sister had become just like you. Isn’t that right, Marcus?”

Alicia’s voice broke behind me. “I’m ashamed to call you my brother. What Kuro is saying sounds too insane to be true, but somehow I still believe it. You’re sick, Marcus, and I’ll never forgive you as long as I live for what you’ve done to us all.”

I went back to heckling Marcus. “See? Even Alicia can’t condone your crimes, and she, more than anyone, wants to see the good in you. But I guess living with your daddy issues for as long as you have finally cracked the shell off the nut. So how does it feel, First Prince? How does it feel to have everyone know that your father was going to cheat you out of your so-called ‘birthright’?”

He glared at me with absolute hatred, then burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. He gave me a look that suggested that he had finally completely gone around the bend. “You mages think you’re so smart? Do you feel brave now, spellslinger? My father is dead. My siblings will soon be dead. You’ll be dead. What difference does it make? I’ve won. Do you hear me?! I WON!”

With a brutal kick to his dragon, Marcus lunged forward with inhuman speed. The dragon hurtled forward, jaws agape, with Marcus ready to thrust forward with his spear. I waited for the moment when either his lance would run me through or when his dragon’s teeth would clamp down on me. I closed my eyes and threw up my arms, not willing to look as death swooped down upon me.If I was going to die, I sure as hell wasn’t going to watch, dammit. Instead, I heard only the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath accompanied by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

I opened my eyes.

Standing before me was Alverd, his cape billowing impressively in the stinging wind. In his hand was the Sword of Evros shining brilliantly in the sunlight, stained in dark red blood. He had thrown aside the golden shield he had picked up in the vault to wield Evros with both hands. The head of Marcus’s dragon lay on the ground behind me, bleeding copiously; its jaws flopping open and closed like a fish out of water. The corpse of the dragon fell to the ground, throwing Marcus off, who landed in a heap. The corpse continued to twitch and shudder, its wings beating furiously.

Marcus emerged from his dying dragon, slowly regained his balance, and stared in uncomprehending awe at the glistening blade in Alverd’s hand. I could hear Alicia gasp in relief, maybe because she was impressed, from behind me, and I felt a rising courage as Alverd pointed Evros’ bloodied blade at Marcus. Even from where I was standing, I could feel the strength and conviction behind his stance.

For once in my life, I wasn’t jealous. I was so incredibly enamored with this blazing embodiment of justice, this righteous avatar of retribution, that it simply took my breath away. I watched as Alverd stepped forth out of the shade of the arena walls and further into the sunlight. As he did so, he spoke the only words that needed to be said, in true heroic fashion.

“Not while I’m still standing.”