Page 151 of Of Empires and Dust

They soared over the sea of burning pink, Valerys’s enormous wings spread wide, black veins streaking through snow white. The dragon truly was a powerful creature, particularly for one so young. In all his years, Aeson had never seen a dragon grow at such a pace. Valerys was already the size Lyara had been in her eighth summer, his chest deeper, his muscles denser.

Perhaps Valacian dragons grew more quickly than those native to Epheria. Or perhaps the druidic bloodline affected the bond. He’d only spoken briefly to Calen about what had happened when the young man had first met Queen Uthrían. Aeson knew little of druids, but there were no doubts in his mindthat Ella was of the blood. And judging by the way the Angan treated her, Calen, and Haem – they all were. He’d never heard of a druid being bound before, not even in the old stories. How that might affect the bond, he wasn’t sure.

As Aeson pondered, Valerys plunged through the clouds, and Aeson leaned forwards, bracing himself against Calen. The young man shifted and moved with the dragon as though they had been bonded for decades.

“We’ll set down here,” Calen called out, his voice muffled on the wind as they broke through the clouds, rolling hills and thick forests taking shape beneath them. “Valerys needs to rest.”

The dragon swooped down over the landscape, the tips of tall pine trees brushing against his feet, before alighting near a sheer cliff nestled within the woodland.

Once dismounted, Calen and Aeson unloaded the bags of armour and food that had been strapped to Valerys’s chest, allowing the dragon to take flight again as soon as he was unburdened, setting off to hunt.

Aeson pulled some bread, cheese, cured rabbit meat, some apples, and a block of butter from the food satchel. Since the journey was only a day or so, it made sense not to light a fire and risk unnecessary attention.

“Thank you,” Aeson said while placing the food on a cloth and unfurling his blanket roll. He and Calen hadn’t spoken much since the battle, at least not in private and not about anything of substance. There were bridges that needed mending.

“What for?” Calen didn’t lift his gaze as he shook out his blanket roll, grabbed an apple, and lay down.

“For agreeing to take me to Land’s End. For understanding the need for patience.” Aeson sat with his legs folded, and he gestured towards the bread, butter, cheese, and meat to see if Calen wanted any.

“Please.”

“I know it isn’t easy leaving Tarmon, Erik, and the others to march for Salme without you,” Aeson said as he broke the loaf in half and ripped it lengthways, spreading a thick layer of butter across the inside with his knife. “No decision from this point on will be easy. And if one seems easy, question it.”

He layered the hard cheese and cured rabbit on top of the butter and passed it to Calen, who sat up and nodded his thanks but said nothing. It was the quietest he’d ever seen the young man.

“Sometimes, learning when not to act, when not to charge forwards, is just as important as knowing when to knock down the gates with a battering ram. If we can break the Valtarans free from imperial control, they will be one of our greatest allies in this war. There are few men finer than Dayne Ateres and few warriors more skilled than the Valtaran blademasters. Not to mention, a few hundred wyvern riders is nothing to sniff at. And with any luck, Aryana and the others will reach Aravell in a matter of days. If we can convince them to stand behind your banners, we will finally have the numbers to truly push the empire back. Once that’s done, you’ll be able to join the army marching towards Salme long before any battle.”

“Hmm.” Calen bit off a mouthful of the bread, staring off into the night as he ate.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you this quiet since the day I met you.”

Calen stared at Aeson, those lavender eyes fixing on him. The hardness in his stare broke. “I’m just tired.” Calen laid his food down on the blanket roll. “Everywhere I turn, people are trying to tie strings around me. Everyone knows what Ishoulddo, and they’re not afraid to tell me. I can see it clear as day. Chora, Galdra, Uthrían… you. It’s exhausting.”

“That’s not true, Calen.”

“Don’t lie. I will do what I need to do to protect the people of Epheria. But I’ve no patience for the lies anymore. Speak to me plain, speak to me honestly, and I will do the same.”

Aeson stared back at Calen, their gazes locked. He nodded. “You’ve earned that much.” Aeson allowed a moment of silence to settle between them. “I am sorry for what I kept from you. I understand why you hate me for it. I wanted to tell you Ella was alive, but ever since The Fall, all I’ve done is survive, keep fighting, keep believing that one day,one day, it would all be worth it. I learned to weigh the odds, to weigh what I wanted to do against what needed to be done. Which is something I see you learning too. This very moment is proof of that.”

When Calen didn’t answer, Aeson let out a long sigh and set his bread down. “You are right.” He clenched his jaw. “When you first heard the Calling, when Valerys hatched for you, all I cared about was that a dragon had entered the world and a Draleid had been bound. I couldn’t have given a single fuck who you were, or what you wanted, or what pain and loss you would go through on this path. I would have dragged you across a thousand miles of hot coals or through the void itself if it meant turning the Lorian Empire to dust. I had spent four hundred years in pain, why should I spare you any? What was your pain next to the things I’ve seen?”

Calen stared back at Aeson, disbelief in his eyes.

“You want honesty and I’m giving it to you. In my eyes, your pain, your loss, your suffering was nothing compared to that of the millions who perished in the great wars after The Fall. I had seen the hearts cut from a hundred dragons. I had seen mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters butchered in front of the ones they loved. I had waded through literal rivers of blood. I had grown cold and apathetic towards everything but seeing the empire burn, seeing Fane dead, and seeing a new world for Erik and Dahlen.” He shrugged. “You and Valerys meant hope. That wasall I cared about. When a person…” Aeson’s throat tightened as he thought of Lyara, as he thought of the shattering of the best pieces of him. “When a person becomes Rakina, the apathy just consumes you. And the only way to keep going is by finding a purpose so singular and powerful in itself that you cling to it and it pulls you forward. This rebellion was my only purpose for a long time. Then along came Naia and Dahlen and Erik, and for a time I felt almost whole again… until she, too, was taken from me.”

Aeson allowed a tear to fall, feeling its cold path as it rolled down his cheek. He would not hide it from Calen.

“When I met you, my soul had been shattered and my heart had been ripped from my chest. Dahlen and Erik were everything. They still are. In truth, you were an inconvenience. Half of me only cared that the egg had hatched, but the other half of me loathed that it had hatched for you – one who cared little for the war we were fighting, one so young with so much to learn. One who cared for nothing but his own tiny little world. A selfish child.”

Ever since Aeson had first met Calen, the young man had been dominated by his rage, consumed by his loss. But now, as he stared into those lavender eyes, he saw no anger, only understanding.

The thump of Valerys’s wings echoed in the night. Calen kept his gaze fixed on Aeson as the dragon emerged over the treetops and alighted behind him, the body of an elk in his jaws. Valerys dropped the carcass, blood and innards slopping against the ground.

“You proved me wrong,” Aeson said as Valerys’s talons pressed into the soft earth on either side of Calen. “You have become everything that I should have been, Calen. Everything that I was meant to be before The Fall took that life from me. That is the reason I kept Ella’s survival from you. Because ifI’d told you, then you would have gone to her, and you would have been right to do so. Because that is what a Draleid does. They protect the ones they love. They protect those who need them. Before you and Valerys rose to challenge Jormun and the others, you said, ‘We’re meant to be guardians, not survivors.’And you were right. I’ve not been a guardian in a very long time.” Aeson paused for a moment, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth to keep himself centred. “The truth is – hard as it is to admit – my presence matters little. My name carries weight amongst those who know it. But it means nothing to the common people or to the factions that are rising. My words will not convince them to stand together and fight as one, to throw down the temptation of consolidating dropped power while the world is in flux. But you… Calen, you are a leader. I’ve seen it. People are drawn towards you. Even Erik would die for you, die beside you. My son believes in you. That is why I want you to stay and talk with Aryana Torval and the others. Whether you want it or not, your will alone can change the hearts of those around you, and with Valerys at your side you are the light they will look to.”

“You think too much of me,” Calen said, letting out a sigh. “Which is not something I ever thought I’d say.”

“I’ve never spoken to you of the journey to find Valerys’s egg in Valacia. But when I was given the egg, do you know what I learned? Valacian dragons don’t require the bond to hatch or to keep their fire. Varyn never took it from them. Some lie dormant for hundreds or thousands of years, hatching for reasons entirely unknown. The man who gave me Valerys’s egg said that it came from the most ancient of Valacian lines. Valerys had slept for over eight hundred years. Until he found you.”

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