Page 361 of Of Empires and Dust

Master and Apprentice

22ndDay of the Blood Moon

Firnin Mountains – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom

Salara whippedthreads of Spirit through the air around Vyrmír, slicing through Eltoar’s threads of Air that aimed to pull Taran from Nymaxes’s neck. Dark clouds swarmed about them where the sky had previously been clear and blue, claps of thunder booming. There wasn’t a doubt in Salara’s mind that this stormhead was Boud’s work. The druid had failed to mention these abilities when they had found her, but the black clouds had emerged far too suddenly to be natural.

Salara looked through Vyrmír’s eyes, tracing the warmth of each dragon that swirled through the storm, shadows bursting to life amidst the cracks of lightning.

Only five sources of heat darted back and forth through the dark clouds – the largest by a distance being Helios. Rysírix and Lauthín had already fallen, broken and shattered by theblack dragon – their soulkin, Visenn and Falisín, with them. Her master’s soulkin had only grown larger and more savage in the years she’d remained within Lynalion’s bounds. And in the short time since their emergence, he had already slain four of her kin. She could not allow more to fall.

As Vyrmír circled around and prepared to take Helios head-on, Salara stilled her heart, the stormwinds battering against her. Vyrmír roared, defiant, and she roared with him. He spiralled as a stream of fire illuminated the dark clouds, so wide it would have swallowed them whole. He spread his wings and swept upwards as Barathûr, Andrax, Baerys, and Nymaxes all crashed into Helios together, talons and teeth tearing and slashing.

After rising, Vyrmír folded his wings and plummeted. Salara shifted so she stood at his neck, whirling threads of Air about herself to keep from being torn into the sky. With a roar, Vyrmír whipped to the left, and Salara launched herself from his back.

The wind howled in her ears, the clouds swallowing her as she dove, her vision nothing but black and grey. But she did not need her eyes. She saw Helios’s warmth through Vyrmír, blazing like a burning city. And atop the monstrous dragon, she could see Eltoar’s fire burning.

Salara adjusted her flight with threads of Air, holding her breath, feeling each beat of her heart hammering against her ribs.

A flash of lightning illuminated a black shadow so large she could not see its end.

Another push right, then left, adjusting. Something flitted past and skittered off her helmet; a scale torn free. Salara pulled Vyrmír’s mind into hers, drawing on his courage, and his strength, and his will. She forged threads of Earth and Spirit into her bones and flesh, hardening them, whirling threads of Air to slow her pace.

A heartbeat passed and she crashed into Eltoar and ripped him from Helios’s back, her shoulder slamming into his chest. Even with the Spark fortifying her body, the collision punched the air from her lungs and shook her to her core.

She gasped for air, the world whipping past as she spun over herself again and again, her arms wrapped around Eltoar’s chest in an iron grip. He slammed his elbows down into her helmet, sending her head spinning. She twisted around him, coiling her legs about his waist and snaking an arm around his throat, squeezing with all her strength. As they fell, a glowing red pendant came loose from his breastplate, and Salara grabbed the crimson stone and ripped it free before tossing it into the sky.

“Your demon god cannot save you!” she roared, the wind devouring her words.

They came apart just as they broke free from the dark storm clouds that blanketed the sky. The world took shape around her in a moment of strange peace that was shattered when Eltoar crashed into her once more. She grabbed the back of his skull and rammed her helmet into his before lifting her knees to her chest, planting her feet into his stomach and kicking him free.

Above, Helios broke from the clouds, Vyrmír and the others swarming around him, tearing strips from his side, blood trailing. Salara watched in agony as Helios twisted his neck and closed his jaws around Baerys and his soulkin, Indivar.

Baerys was a brave dragon, and fierce, but he was a hatchling next to Helios, and the great black dragon bit him in half, crushing bone and scale both, blood and gore misting into the wind.

No…

Salara’s heart broke as Baerys’s severed body fell and Indivar was lost amidst the carnage. In that moment, the fury reignited within her, and Vyrmír dragged the shattered pieces of her heart together, binding them with fire as he crashed into Helios witha savage rage. Vyrmír was still smaller, but the difference was not as great as it had once been. Helios twisted to snap his jaws around Vyrmír’s throat, but Vyrmír tore at the black dragon’s side and opened a wicked gash through Helios’s scales. He roared and redoubled his attack, tearing at the dragon he had once looked up to as a god.

As the battle above raged, Salara wound herself in threads of Air and bound threads of Earth and Spirit to her bones. Dropping from a height like this was no simple thing. She welled threads of Air into a sphere and slammed them down, wrapping others around herself and pulling upwards, slowing her descent as much as her body could stand.

A shockwave rippled through the ground below her, a cloud of dust pluming upwards as Eltoar made impact.

Salara settled her mind, stilled her heart, then slammed into the earth.

Eltoar drew in a ragged,dust-filled breath, the air around him thick and clouded with dirt and broken rock. In the sky above, Helios’s rage was only surpassed by his sorrow. This was not what either of them had wanted. The last thing this world needed was more dead dragons. Twice, Andrax had left his belly exposed and Helios had not the heart to make the final blow. They had flown together as hatchlings, fought side by side, hunted, and slept. Helios did not want to add Andrax to the list of friends he had laid low.

But it was the sight of Vyrmír’s unabating fury that truly scored their shared soul. Vyrmír was a son to them, as Salara was a daughter.

Helios swept across the sky above, twisting and slamming his tail into the side of the crimson dragon that had fought at the Three Sisters, then unleashed a stream of dragonfire across the smaller black dragon that swept past him. Helios could have ripped it from the sky, but his heart was weak.

Eltoar pulled his mind back, staring through the dust to the western skies. He only hoped that Lyina had reached Voranur. Eltoar understood Voranur’s pain, but the white dragon needed to be protected. The future of their entire race could depend on it.

He walked from the small crater that had formed in his landing, moving through still-drifting dust. He slid his sword from its scabbard at the sound of crunching dirt.

Salara stood before him, her burnished gold plate now coated in dirt and dust. She had shed her helmet, dark hair loose over shoulders.

“I offer you the right of Alvadrû,” she said, sliding her sword from its scabbard, her voice cold and devoid of emotion.

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