Earlier That Day #2
Mystral lifted her pointed chin. “They remained neutral, for one. Our courts would have been decimated to the last dragon if High Reaches hadn’t remained neutral.
Besides, they took in my brother. I’m sure many of you have kin there, too.
I sent Kemi as a spy to get more information, but she hasn’t returned yet. No one ever suspects an omega.”
Several around the campfire nodded; some muttered among themselves.
Mystral focused her violet gaze on Jimryr. “What about you, Jimryr?”
Jimryr grinned, putting on a front of confidence he didn’t actually feel.
He added a bit of extra drawl to his words, attempting nonchalance.
“You know me. I’m always spoiling for a good fight.
I’ll go.” Several around him groaned. Let them believe he fought only for the sake of fighting, not for justice. Whatever let them feel more secure.
“What are they fighting about this time?” the young beta asked with a put-upon sigh.
Mystral shifted from kneeling to sitting on the dusty cave floor.
“One Thorne brother is king; the Goddess-rejected, greedy one wants to be. From all I’ve heard, a change of leadership would mean the court goes from neutral, with a just ruler, to everyone out for themselves if the other brother wins. ”
Not to mention, Mystral’s brother would lose his security in the royal household.
While she wouldn’t desert her fellow outcasts, she wasn’t above securing her brother an elevated position.
She claimed she’d put him there to glean information, but she’d do anything to see her brother safe after the death of their parents and loss of their court.
As many here would do. As Jimryr would have, had any of his family survived.
Her brother, Teron, would become Mountain Meadows Court’s hereditary king if they managed to restore the lineage. He’d hopefully be better than his father, who squandered lives in his quest for more power, resulting in his death and many of Mystral’s scars.
“I’ll go,” Jimryr repeated. There weren’t enough members of his court left to re-form. He might be the only one remaining. He’d die to keep another from his fate. “I mean, why have we been training if not for actual battle?”
“Me too!” another said, a beta scarcely older than Jimryr’s twenty-five summers.
“You can count on me!” came from an older dragon who should’ve long-since retired from fighting.
An omega ran into the assembly, straight to Mystral and Jimryr, flustered and out of breath, still tying the belt to hold her robe closed.
"What is it, Kemi?" Mystral asked.
“I came as quickly as I could. I overhead Urien Thorne and the mage Gwythyr talking. The court is holding a banquet to honor King Locryn. Urien will most likely strike then.”
Mystral eyed the messenger. “Tonight?”
Kemi nodded. “Yes.”
“Does my brother Teron know?”
“There wasn’t time to tell him. One of Urien’s guards saw me and I had to flee.”
The only outward sign of Mystral’s panic was the loss of color to her cheeks. “Then we prepare ourselves to fight and leave as soon as possible. If there’s no battle, we’ll liberate a few kegs of ale and spend the night drinking.”
Jimryr could think of worse ways to spend an evening. The anticipation thrumming through his veins said they likely wouldn’t be drinking the night away.
Jimryr perched on a ledge beside Mystral, overlooking a valley.
High Reaches stood on the other side, built into a mountain.
His scales blended with the evening background, but once the sun set fully, he’d need to hide behind her—and possibly three other dragons—as his light color made him easy to spot, especially when combined with his bulk.
The scent of roasted meat reached his nose. His belly growled. How long since he’d had a decent cooked meal? Most days he shifted into his dragon form and killed something. His dragon wasn’t nearly as picky an eater as Jimryr’s human form, though he probably should’ve passed on last week’s skunk.
Yuck. Never again.
His dragon rumbled agreement.
Predatory betas lurked in the shadows of the nearby mountains, likely waiting for full dark or some signal.
Malevolent intent rolled off them, nearly visible.
Jimryr would attack now, using the element of surprise, if his team weren’t so outnumbered.
High Reaches should have many beta fighters, but they’d likely divide into factions depending on where their loyalties lay.
And a peaceful court didn’t train daily to fight dirty, not like Jimryr’s makeshift group.
He shifted into human form. Mystral did the same, giving a shiver as the cool mountain air touched her bare skin. Jimryr asked, “How do we know friend from foe?”
Mystral replied matter-of-factly, “I fight whoever Teron tells me to.”
“Good enough for me.” If they came from the same court, or shared some other connection, he might communicate with Mystral mind-to-mind.
No one in his group bore any familial affiliation.
They slowly shifted back to dragon form so as not to draw attention to themselves.
He hid one front foot behind the other. Though all his companions knew of his infirmity, his self-consciousness remained.
The mangled foot didn’t slow down his fighting, thank the Goddess, he’d merely adapted.
The independent dragon’s motto: adapt or die!
A multitude of dragons in human form were gathered together in the stone bowl near the High Reaches castle, making Jimryr miss his court. Oh, to be sitting down to a meal with family and friends. Or even seeing them again.
Family and friends no longer existed on this plane because of someone else’s greed. Yes, he’d fight to keep the same from happening to someone else.
Full dark fell. Some of the crouching betas he thought of as evil flew to the bowl, landing on the outside ledge. Each carried an armed man on their back, who dismounted and charged down into the crowd.
A cry went up. Screams, the clash of weapons. Several courtiers emerged. The dragons still on the ledge made quick work of them. Dragons eating other dragons?
Sacrilege!
An indigo dragon darted toward them, followed by a pale green one, with betas spouting flame in pursuit. More dragons waiting in the shadows launched themselves, making for the indigo and green dragons. Mystral and Jimryr took flight to intercept them.
The indigo dragon matched Mystral. Her alpha brother? The pale green appeared to be an omega. An omega in a fight? Omegas didn’t fight.
Mystral flew past the other indigo dragon, tackling the first beta she came to, giving her brother time to escape with the omega. Who were they? With her attack, she pointed out the enemy.
All questions fled Jimryr’s mind as he engaged with the next dragon, locking talons and spinning the other dragon upside down in a flurry of wings as they grappled.
Jimryr let go and latched onto his opponent’s leg.
The dragon shrieked, thrashing to pull itself free while trying to regain balance, only damaging itself further.
Jimryr let go of the leg and swiped at the nearest wing, easily ripping gashes into the thin membrane.
The dragon tumbled toward the ground, flapping its useless wing.
No time to watch the end. Hard wing strokes pushed Jimryr skyward. More dragons came, bugling a welcome. That they didn’t attack Jimryr, Mystral, and their fellows must mean the mysterious brother Teron had sent out an alert that help had come.
More dragons approached. Larger. Spouting fire.
A chill swept through Jimryr. This couldn’t be! Some of those were alphas! Alphas weren’t supposed to fight. Apparently, no one followed the rules anymore.
One by one, the alphas turned their fire on hapless betas.
Some escaped with a scorch, while others…
a green dragon ignited, screaming as it plunged toward the earth.
A brown dragon dove beneath, breaking its fall.
The fire must burn, but the darker dragon slowed its descent and carried the green one to the lake below. Both plunged in.
Jimryr watched until the two surfaced, the brown helping the green to shore.
The alpha set the wounded in its sights and plummeted.
Oh no. Not on Jimryr’s watch. Injured dragons weren’t to be attacked; they were out of the fighting. He shot downward, ready to intercept. Why, he didn’t know. The injured dragons likely wouldn’t survive the alpha’s fire. He’d seen the results of such attacks before among his own court.
Just because alphas weren’t supposed to flame betas didn’t mean such attacks never happened. He closed in. One of the wounded had taken human form, trying to help the other.
The vow Jimryr had taken upon joining his court’s defensive forces still held, even if the court didn’t. He’d protect the wounded, giving his life if necessary.
The alpha spread its talons, fierce amber eyes fixed on its prey.
Jimryr flapped his wings, gaining speed.
He rammed the alpha with all the force he could muster, jarring every bone in his body.
The alpha crashed toward the lake below.
It roared, recovering its balance before hitting the water, and opened its mouth. Fire boiled out.
Jimryr braced—he wasn’t fast enough to evade. Goddess! he cried. The surrounding air shimmered. Heat blasted his scales.
The flames never reached him.