“You think I would want to live in a world built on the graves of every dragon? Brother, you have lost yourself to a darkness from which there is no return. That’s why I’m here,” she stated boldly. “I’m going to stop you before you undo the entire realm.”
Alijah puffed out his chest. “If you directly challenge me, Sister, you will perish.”
Inara didn’t move, her muscles tensed. “I came into this world with you. If I have to leave it with you, so be it.” Athis raised his mighty jaw and exhaled a sharp breath, expressing his agreement.
The air became thick with tension. If just one of them was to suddenly move, the battle would begin and the snow would quickly turn red with blood.
“Just leave,” Asher called, turning all eyes to him. “There will be no fighting today. He’s a survivor. He knows when the odds aren’t in his favour.”
“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or not,” Alijah responded.
“I wasn’t talking about you,” Asher replied gruffly, his gaze shifting to Malliath. “You’re facing two dragons and their Riders, with twenty mages at their back. You’d probably kill most of us,” the ranger accepted, “but you’ve lived too long to die here, like this. So just leave.”
Alijah looked to respond with harsh words but his ear was turned back to Malliath for a moment, their conversation their own. “Some diplomacy from the Outlander,” he said instead with a tone of surprise. “I suppose all the deaths can wait. Enjoy the reprieve. Until the next time.” The half-elf looked briefly at each of them before returning to Malliath’s side.
His ascent to the saddle lacked the grace expected of one with elven blood in their veins. Vighon scrutinised him again, wondering if there were unseen injuries plaguing his foe. The answer would continue to elude him, for Malliath beat his wings and took to the sky in a maelstrom of snow. Shortly thereafter, the Reavers turned on their heels and began marching, taking The Selk Road south.
Vighon took what felt like his first breath since mounting his horse outside the keep. He sheathed the sword of the north, extinguishing its flames, and acknowledged those beside him. Gideon followed Malliath’s flight intently with the look of profound thought.
“What is it?” the northman asked.
Gideon maintained his distant watch. “I’m not sure.”
Leaving the old master to his thoughts, the king turned to Asher. “That was a hell of a hunch,” he remarked.
Asher’s response was more guttural than any recognisable language.
Satisfied with the ranger’s disinterest in any conversation, and eager to greet Inara, he faced the Guardian of the Realm. “Your timing will be worthy of history’s note, I’m sure. You certainly have my thanks.”
“What exactly were you going to do?” Inara questioned. “Try and kill both of them with just your sword?”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Vighon was pleased to see Inara’s judgmental expression soften to mirror his grin.
Despite the onlookers, both came together in a tight embrace. As always, her superior strength was made apparent and he did his best to squeeze her with all his strength. “I missed you,” he whispered in her ear.
Inara pulled back and offered him a warm smile. “We have much to discuss,” she announced, taking the others in and bringing Gideon back to the present.
Vighon reassumed his role as king, straightening his stance. “You mean like the destruction of magic?” he posed.
Inara fixed his dark eyes with some intensity. “That and more,” she promised cryptically.
“We should return to the keep then,” Vighon decided. “We cut off our diviner to Faylen and the others when Alijah arrived. They will be deeply concerned.”
“They survived Qamnaran!” Inara reasoned with glee. “I would hear of my grandmother’s prowess on the battlefield.”
The king called for horses, instantly torn by the knowledge he held. “Inara…”
Gideon stepped forward, concern etched across his face. “Inara,” he intoned. The Guardian of the Realm followed her old master’s gaze to Asher, who appeared to be on the verge of fainting.
“What’s wrong with him?” Vighon questioned. He instinctively reached out to help steady the ranger, but Adan’Karth beat him to it, as if the Drake had sensed his distress from afar.
“It’s complicated,” Gideon said, before peering inside Asher’s satchel. “It’s nearly time,” he added, looking to Inara.
She nodded her understanding, which was more than Vighon could do. “We should get him somewhere warm and dry,” Inara stated quickly.
“And somewhere they will feel safe,” Gideon specified.
“They?” Kassian echoed, towing a horse.
“We need to get Asher to the keep,” Inara ordered, helping the ranger towards Athis. “We can get there quicker.”
Vighon watched Asher stagger away, clearly in need of assistance from Inara and Adan. “What in all the hells is going on?” he demanded.
“I will explain everything,” Gideon promised. “Let us make for the keep and with haste.”
The king noted Kassian’s raised eyebrow and simply shrugged as he mounted his horse. “There’s always something.”
As Inara and Adan escorted Asher through the courtyard of The Dragon Keep, the majority of its inhabitants were turned to the sky, transfixed by the sight of Athis’s return to the heavens. It suited the Guardian, pleased to simply weave through the crowd and enter the keep without a fuss.
It had been some time since her last visit, but she remembered the halls well and led the trio to the guest quarters in the west wing. Whenever she could, Inara scrutinised Asher, partially held up between herself and Adan. The ranger was already sweating, matting his hair to his stubbled cheeks. Whatever strength remained in him was focused on gripping the satchel and keeping his feet moving.
“What’s happening to him?” Adan enquired as they reached the first quarters.
Though Inara had never experienced the birth of her companion, she was receiving information from Ilargo and Gideon via Athis. “Breaking the egg is stressful for the hatchling,” she explained, relaying the words of others.
