111. From Ashes We Stand
Chapter 111
From Ashes We Stand
30 th Day of the Blood Moon
The Glade – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom
Calen knelt in the rain, his hand pressed to the wet soil before him. Above, grey clouds wept as the skies themselves joined him in mourning.
He drew slow breaths, staring at the third sapling he had planted behind the lavender.
Haem was gone. Calen had barely had him back, and now he was gone. Truly gone.
A dark shadow loomed over him, the rain stopping as Valerys extended his wings like an awning to shield him. The dragon leaned over Calen, a low rumble in his throat as he pressed his snout to the ground, ash and brittle leaves shifting beneath his breath.
Calen gasped at the river of emotions that flowed across the bond. Everything from love to loss to despair and myriad others in between. But most of all, a deep appreciation ripped at Valerys’s core. Haem had given him back his soulkin. Haem had been strong enough to reach through Valerys’s grief and centre his mind when his world was spiralling. Were it not for the brother he had barely known, he would be completely and entirely alone. Haem was gone, but his sacrifice had meant the preservation of Valerys’s entire world.
Valerys owed Haem everything, and he would protect that gift with a fury the likes of which Epheria had never known. Kaygan would burn beneath an ocean of dragonfire. His soul would scream for eternity.
The dragon leaned his neck up into the rain and roared with such force that Calen’s bones shook. And with the roar, Valerys pushed memories of Haem’s words through their shared soul. “You always stood back up. And I was so gods damn proud of you every time. I need you to stand back up again, little brother.”
Calen buried his hands in the sodden earth before him, tears mingling with the rain that dripped from his hair. “I will never stop,” he whispered. “I promise. Never.” His voice trembled. “We will kill them all. We will end this war no matter the cost. You will not die for nothing.”
Calen’s jaw trembled, images of Kaygan flashing through his mind. He curled his fingers into a fist, grabbing a handful of wet dirt. He stood and looked down over the small sapling where he had laid Haem’s body. “I didn’t say it to you enough, but all I ever wanted was to be like you. Strong, kind, brave – calm. I won’t fail you, I swear it. If I can be half of what you were, I’ll be lucky. I love you, brother. With all my heart. And I’m sorry for any moment I made you feel otherwise. Wait for me. This war needs to end.”
Calen drew one last, long breath, dropped the dirt slowly back to the ground, then turned and walked through the ruins of his old home amid the blackened husks of long-burnt houses.
The column of purple and white banners had ground to a halt just ahead, waiting. It stretched off into the distance, thousands strong.
Tarmon, Dann, Vaeril, Lyrei, Therin, and the others waited at its head. Queen Tessara sat astride her Dvalin Angan mount, rain splattering against the black hooded cloak drawn over her head.
Dann slid from Drunir’s back and looked into Calen’s eyes. He didn’t speak. Tharn sat on a horse a few feet back, having decided to stay by his son’s side.
All of them still stared at Calen as though he were some kind of apparition. And the soldiers looked at him with awe in their eyes.
“We march for Valtara,” Calen called out. “We crush the Lorians gathering at the Hot Gates, then we burn every trace of them from Epheria.”
Valerys alighted behind Calen, the rain swirling in the draft of his wings. Calen grasped Dann’s forearm. “You have always been a brother to me. I love you like my own blood, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. I will be from now on.”
Calen would not die again without saying those words.
Dann nodded slowly, his grip tightening around Calen’s forearm. “I thought I lost you.”
“I know…” Calen let out a heavy sigh. He pulled Dann into an embrace, then mounted Valerys. The white dragon let out a low whine as he gazed back at the saplings, then roared and lifted into the air.
Calen looked down at the column of soldiers as they started into a march, banners bearing the white dragon flapping in the breeze. This path was never what he had dreamt of, but it was his now, and he would not shy away from it. Gods and demons warred over the world he loved, and he would burn them all to save it.
As Valerys twisted in the air, Avandeer and Varthear rose from amidst the column, swirling about the white dragon, matching his roars. Valerys angled his wings and swooped down so that he soared over the marching soldiers. A pressure built within him, burning in their shared soul, bound anew by Varyn himself. A raw power surged within them and Valerys unleashed a river of bright purple dragonfire into the sky, luminescent mist drifting from his eyes, cheers and clanging steel sounding below.
“Aldryr ar orimyn, Valerys,” Calen whispered, allowing Valerys’s power to surge through him. “Denuvír latuá v?ra vidim rakaril.”
Fire and fury, Valerys. These gods will know fear.
The End of Book Four
Of
The Bound and The Broken