Blood of Dragons by Daniel Arenson

Author:Daniel Arenson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Daniel Arenson
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

ORYN

He flew over the wilderness, a midnight dragon, seeking hope in the dawn.

When Oryn looked over his shoulder, he could no longer see Nova Vita. He wondered if the city still stood. Dawn rose around him. He had been flying for hours, crossing many miles, heading north. For all he knew, by now Nemoria might have reached the capital, destroyed it like Altus Mare.

Wait for me, Miya, Oryn thought, holding her jewels in his claws. Don't die yet.

The image flashed through him again—Reean attacking the gods, letting him flee, then screaming, torn apart, devoured.

Oryn grimaced, the pain rising through his throat.

I should just keep flying. Fly for days, for months, fly to the edge of the world.

He had faced death countless times, had hung from a noose only days ago. But he had never felt this: pure terror, filling him like poison. It was not merely his death that sprawled across the land.

This was the end of the world.

"Only you can save our asses, Fira," Oryn said to the wind. "Only you've been able to hurt the goddess."

He scanned the wilderness, seeking the place. Miya had given him no map, only vague instructions. To find the escarpment, and beyond it a hillside shaped like a bearded old man. Oryn could navigate effortlessly through the labyrinth of Altus Mare's alleyways and tunnels, but to him the wilderness all looked the same. Just endless trees, a monotonous carpet of birches, white with snow.

Just fly into the distance, said the old voice inside him. You have the crown jewels! Now flee for your life! Retire as the most legendary thief in the world.

Oryn grumbled.

"What use is infamy when all those who adore me are dying?" he answered. "Am I to be legendary among squirrels and beetles?"

At least you'll live, the voice countered.

"And everyone else will die."

So what? said the voice. Let them die. You've never cared about anyone else, and nobody has ever cared about you. So to the abyss with them.

"That's not true." Oryn's eyes stung. He hated when that happened. "Reean cared for me. She died to let me escape."

So keep escaping! Give her death meaning.

"And then let Miya die too?"

He thought back to the princess of Requiem. She could have ordered her guards to slay him. Yet she had given him her jewels, had given him his life, had sent him on a quest for hope. Berinor, meanwhile, had flown off on a suicide mission. The old king was not coming home. Oryn was sure of that.

"Only I can still save Requiem," Oryn said. "And still save Miya. Well … only Fira can, if you want to get technical. But I'm the one looking for her! And that's what counts."

When the voice protested inside him again, Oryn let out a roar, silencing it. That voice had led him to the noose. He would listen to it no more.

He flew onward, seeking the escarpment. He had never seen the place, but every boy in Requiem had grown up hearing the tales. Oryn didn't have fond memories of childhood.

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