Novels2Search
Twilight Kingdom Night Nation (stubbed)
Night Nation 1 (Rewrite): Sea and Sky

Night Nation 1 (Rewrite): Sea and Sky

Chapter 1

Sea and Sky

The horizon was painted stripes of blue, turquoise and teal, washing together sky and sea. Candle couldn’t tell one from the other. Not that it mattered. She beat her wings hard, spreading them wide to catch an updraft that sent her spiralling high. Up, up she flew, until the whole world was laid out beneath her. She was so high up the air was thin and cold, rasping through her lungs in great breaths. The upturned bowl of the sky smelt like salt and magic. She grinned into the wind. Sun beat down on her back, and huge mounds of puffy white clouds coasted by.

To her right, the tiny structures of the barbarian camp were just visible where the land dropped into the sea. The buildings looked like toys, their fortifications like blades of grass. The barbarians themselves were busy specks. Behind the camp was the land bridge, and beyond that rose the craggy speckled ridges of the mountains of her homeland. Hills and peaks poked through the flesh of the earth like the knobbled spine of some enormous monstrous creature.

To the west a dark shape lingered, before vanishing into a cloud bank.

An airship? A large one headed north, vast banks of sails extended, silver runes flickering as it travelled up the coast of the continent. Candle changed direction to follow it, curiosity nibbling at her bones.

The barbarian airships didn’t usually fly so high, or in that direction.

Where was it going?. Briefly, she contemplated abandoning her training to give chase. She would hunt it down and rake it with flame and claw till it was nothing but a pile of smoking splinters on the rocks below. Her claws twitched at the thought, and the ghost of an ache pulled at her side - the memory of the wounds she had sustained last time she had fought them.

The violence of her emotion surprised her. Her Ancestors would be ashamed… but no. Candle bared her teeth into the headwind. Some of her Ancestors had been dragons themselves. They would understand. Besides, there was a difference between thought and action.

Preoccupied, Candle nearly missed the incandescent ball of light hurtling towards her.

The air sizzled.

Rolling sideways into empty space, Candle nearly dislocated her shoulder with the abruptness of the manoeuvre. The energy ball sizzled past, humming. It clipped the outer edges of her scales, coating them with soot.

Pay attention! Jotham’s voice boomed in her mind. Idiot teens get fried while they daydream!

The great dragon’s shadow flitted overhead.

Candle swore under her breath. If she didn’t watch herself she would spend the coming evening practising her healing spells instead of painting. Jotham disappeared into a great bank of cloud, and moments later the towering cumulonimbus crackled with lightning. She could hear him laughing through the link in their minds.

Taking a mighty breath, Candle turned from the coast and dove after him.

Blue flame burned at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down, holding it in, saving the precious fires. Where was he?

Inside the cloud it was damp, white and wet. She could barely see what was in front of her own snout, let alone Jotham. One last thrust of her wings sent the mist eddying, but gave her some additional height. The importance of height was a lesson she had learnt the hard way. Once high ground was lost it was hard to regain momentum. Trying to fight with magic during flight was hard enough, doing it twisted around was near impossible. But Jotham was a wily old dragon, and had been known to rise up from the depths with gleaming eyes and surprise fire balls, so she had to be constantly on the alert.

Of course he had the advantage of several centuries of practice. To Candle watching every direction at once seemed an impossible task. But eyes were almost useless here anyway: another lesson etched in soot and burns.

Candle listened, locking her wings. Silent as an owl she coasted softly, so as not to give away her own position. Reaching out with her senses, she felt the mist on her scales, the beads of moisture forming into fat, cold, globules. The unnatural stillness. She felt for the breath of movement that would precede an attack. Nothing. She might have been alone in the clouds, alone in the whole sky, for all her senses told her.

Jotham was almost certainly waiting to ambush her, but she was no longer a novice flyer. It had been days since Jotham had landed a direct hit. But she wanted to do more than evade.

Carefully keeping her wings straight, Candle cast the rune for refraction. The marks scorched lines in the air before her, just for a moment, before vanishing into nothing. Pulling on threads of magic, she manipulated them deftly. Light bent around her form, and then separated out from her. A shadow flew by her side. She looked at it with some satisfaction. Formless and rough, it was nothing like the light painted marvels she could work seated, and at peace, but that was fine. Jotham wouldn’t be able to see the details in the cloud anyway. From a distance it would appear as the shape of a dragon.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She sent it away, down a little, to one side, then down a little more. Right at the edge of her control. Perfect. She just had to maintain concentration. The shadow had no density, being made of bended light, so it did not affect the air currents, or set the mist to swirl. Quickly, clinging to the spell, she checked the white muffled air around her, in all directions. No sign of Jotham. She drew another breath. One more spell, to make the bait. Another rune. She could do it. This one would come easier, a slight thing, well practised.

Awel, the first she had learned, long ago next to a stormy sea.

Awel for wind, with a seriph modifier to make it a breeze, instead of a gust. Useless in combat, apart from in matters of deception. Candle drew the rune, and set it loose on her shadow.

The mist stirred, fluttering, mimicking the stir of beaten wings.

A heartbeat later, a gleeful ball of flame ripped apart the clouds, aiming straight for the shadow’s heart. Candle didn’t wait to watch it pass. Opening her mouth, she let loose a torrent of blue flames, raking the clouds above.

Ow! Said Jotham. Well done.

And then she was dodging a hail of ice bullets.

She tumbled, and dove, losing height by the moment but keeping her wings free. Candle burst the clouds into full sunshine, blinked and banked sideways, firing off a single plume of fire right into Jotham’s face as he exited the cloud pile a moment later. His laughter followed her across the wind.

Racing and fighting they swooped lower.

She was flying over land now, Trees and shrubs zipped by at breakneck speed. Candle had lost track of the direction they were travelling as they flew. That was dangerous in itself. If she lost enough height she could fly smack bang into a mountain top. Fighting efficiently was a complicated affair.

Still, she had landed a hit on her mentor.

Candle dove sideways to avoid another plume of flame. Jotham was right on her tail, no doubt determined to bring her down a peg or two after receiving a face full of fire. She flew hard, shoulders straining. It was impossible to outdistance Jotham; he was bigger, older, and stronger, and arguably wiser. But she was small and tricky. At least she liked to think so.

Seeing a ravine she darted into it, pulling her wings in tight.

As she suspected, the move caught the larger dragon off guard. He swore, pulling up at the last minute. Could he even fit? Extended, his wingspan was enormous.

Language, she said, using his confusion, not to fly, but to sink down to the very bottom of the ravine, folding herself up. Unable to see or hear her, he would assume she would fly on, exiting at the top of the mountain. At least that was what she hoped.

She swallowed a giggle. There was a little stream gurgling along the bottom, and she swiped it merrily with one talon as she passed, refreshing her ability to cast. She left a great gouge in the mud with her passing. It felt nice, squishing between her reptilian toes. Hesitating at the ravine entrance she paused, listening. No sign of him. She hopped up, and out, more bird than majestic predator, splaying one wing wide to balance.

It was now early afternoon and difficult to draw enough magic for more runes, but she was able to extract some from the stream, and from between the cliff walls to cast refraction once more. This time she kept the light on herself, wrapping her body in the dull greys and browns of the sun burnt fell below. Camouflaged, she set off once more.

Feeling smug she coasted over the low valleys.

It had taken a while, but now the mountains were almost as familiar from the air than they were from the ground where she had spent the first sixteen years of her life. A lifetime ago. In truth it had only been months.

She was near Gwavas now. Hopefully any watchers would have as much luck spotting her as Jotham. The refraction trick didn’t make her invisible, but it was close. However, the spell would only last till she dried. Any moment now with the warm air licking her scales. But what harm could it do to look? She hadn’t been back to Gwavas since… well since the battle against the barbarians.

Mind made up she flew north, skimming the low grass.

Riding a powerful updraft she swept up the clifface of the Spear, and came to a rest at the very peak. Grabbing the rock with her talons, she stared out across the valley below.

From this very spot she had watched the advance of the barbarian airships.

The broken pieces of the airships were now gone, the bodies removed, long burned on pyres and their spirits safely sent to the Night. It had been weeks since the attack, but the valley bore the scars. Cracks ran the length of the castle from foundation to spires. Large parts of the outer walls had caved in, and the outbuildings were still a tumbled down ruin. Huge boulders and burn marks marred the grounds.

Candle’s shoulders sagged, drooping a little as she searched for her friends amongst the men and women labouring below. There didn’t seem to be that many of them. What were the Ancestors Own doing, if not rebuilding their base?

Jotham landed beside her with predatorial grace.

Are we taking a break?

Candle didn’t reply, her eyes locked on the fortress before them.

That was a pretty good move, he said. I lost you for a whole two minutes. Although I did notice you landing like a dysfunctional chicken.

She ignored him, continuing to search. For a while they sat in silence and watched the valley together.

How about I teach you a new rune? Said Jotham.

Candle turned her head in surprise. I thought I knew them all by now?

No, no, no, said Jotham. All that you are ready to learn. A fraction of what there is in the universe. At home though, not here. He cast a distasteful glance over the buildings below.

Candle wavered, but the lure of magical knowledge won out.

Fine, she said, shaking out her wings. About to leapt into the air, she stopped instead. Her sharp eyes focussing on a familiar grouping below. Right after I talk to Jory and Pasco and Delen-

Not a good idea, little cousin, yelled Jotham. But she had already jumped.