The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon - Chapter 28: The Dragons Meet Again

Chapter 28: The Dragons Meet Again

Doomwing had worked hard to temper his wrath over the years. As a hatchling, he had sometimes been quick to anger, but he had also been quick to forgive. His parents and Mother Tree had all cautioned him against letting his temper rule him. He was clever and cunning, and allowing his anger to rule him would rob him of those gifts.

It had not always been easy. He could still remember snapping at his friend Stormtooth from time to time. She had never been the cleverest dragon, and she had been stubborn and foolish too. More than once, they had gotten into trouble, only for him to become wroth with her. But he had never stayed angry with her for long. They had been friends, and he had known he could rely on her when it really mattered.

Sometimes, he wondered what would have become of her if she’d survived the First Age.

The thought of seeing Dreamsong again stirred several emotions. There was a part of him that despised her weakness. Kagami had been her pupil, and she had viewed her as a daughter, but how could she sit back and do nothing at all in the face of Kagami’s machinations? Doomwing had been forced to make many hard decisions in his life. How dare she refuse to do the same! He had almost died in a battle that would have been far less difficult if she had aided him.

Even now, the thought of his near death and how easily it could have been avoided made his blood burn like liquid fire in his veins. When had he ever abandoned his comrades when they had needed him? When had he ever forsaken those he had sworn to help? When he had first realised that she would not be helping them, his wrath had burned hot. The urge to rip and claw and kill until he was sated had been almost impossible to subdue. Only the knowledge that acting foolishly would get him killed had stayed his hand.

Yet there was also a part of him that sympathised. Dreamsong had been unable to raise her own hand against someone she considered family. It was a foolish decision, driven by emotion instead of logic, and Doomwing wanted to say that he could not understand it. But he could. And it was that understanding that had eventually cooled his wrath to a manageable level.

They had not spoken for more than a thousand years. Perhaps it was time to change that, but not here. No, his lair was full of all the treasures he had accumulated in his life, to say nothing of his recent acquisition of the phoenix egg. Should his rage get the better of him, he did not want to put it at risk. It was better they speak where momentary anger would not result in any great loss.

He took wing and soared out over the seemingly endless fields of rock, ash, and lava. He flew until he came upon a plain of razor rock, the jagged material glinting in the orange light of several rivers of lava. Below him, lizards skulked back and forth amongst the winding alleys of sharpened stone, the braver amongst them emerging to bask along the searing banks of molten streams. In the skies, wyverns and drakes flew, giving him a wide berth as they sought the safety of their roosts and nests.

For a moment, he was gripped by the urge to simply annihilate everything he could reach. But he was no weak-willed hatchling anymore. He was a primordial dragon, and he would not allow his temper to get the better of him. Besides, in the years to come, these creatures might be of use to him and those he ruled over. Slaying them all now would provide only monetary relief while bringing years of regret at squandering potentially valuable resources. Even so, he wanted to do something anything before speaking to Dreamsong.

“If you wish to live,” Doomwing boomed, his voice carrying through the air like thunder. “Then leave this place.”

There was a flurry of activity on the ground below him and in the skies around him. They did not question his words. They simply fled as quickly as they could, running, flying, crawling, and creeping until they were far away. He let them go, and his senses stretched out to determine if any of them had been foolish enough to remain.

None remained.

His lips curled. Yes. These creatures might be useful later. He had expected at least a few to be too stupid to leave. He’d even expected at least one to be stupid enough to challenge him. Instead, they had all taken his words to heart and had fled.

His golden eyes blazed, and he lashed out in all directions with a shockwave of pure telekinetic force. It crushed the ground beneath him, shattering the spires of volcanic stone and pulverising the maze of razor rock into gravel. In the skies, the shockwave parted the seemingly endless clouds of ash and smoke, leaving a column of clear air and open sky that stretched for miles around.

There was a certain joy to be had from wanton destruction, but he quickly clamped down on the urge to do more. He folded his wings and landed with an earth-shaking boom. His claws dug into the gravel, and he exerted his telekinesis again, turning the gravel into a fine powder that was carried away in great clouds as the air his telekinesis had shoved aside rushed back toward him.

Almost without thinking, his telekinesis shaped the clouds of debris into familiar shapes. It was tempting to continue putting aside their meeting, but he had delayed long enough. He knew Dreamsong better than most. If she had mustered the courage to seek him out, then rejecting her would simply lead to her retreating into seclusion again.

He reached out with his magic and examined the wards he had put over his territory. He had woven them into the earth and sky, anchoring them to the towering peaks that dotted the land and to the great reservoirs of magma that lurked below the surface. Gently, he manipulated the wards to loosen the defences in the area around him.

And then he sent a shockwave of his power rippling from the physical world into the dreaming lands. It was crude, but he had never been skilled in dream walking. However, Dreamsong would not be able to miss it, and she would see it for what it was. Not an attack, but an invitation to speak.

But would she accept it?

Dreamsong had not expected Frostfang to be as polite to her as he had been, but having hatchlings and taking a mate had seemingly mellowed his icy heart. She had come bearing gifts, which might have swayed him too, for her gifts had been chosen to aid the hatchlings in their growth. While she was not the wealthiest of her fellows in terms of material riches, her ability to crystallise memories and dreams was a gift that none of the others could match. She had given them memories and dreams made solid techniques and experiences that would stand the hatchlings in good stead and save them years of toil.

Frostfang had always been thoughtful, and he had acknowledged that although he thought her actions foolish, there was no changing them now. He had been more interested in securing her assistance in the event of future conflicts and in making agreements to have her pass on additional useful techniques to the hatchlings when they were old and skilled enough to use them.

She had been relieved. Frostfang could be cold at times, but he was not one to bear a grudge if compensation was offered. Doomwing was another matter. The nova dragon could be almost as sentimental as her at times, which meant appeasing him would not be a simple matter of making promises and offering gifts.

It was a question of trust.

He had trusted her, and she had betrayed that trust.

She was fortunate that Ashheart had been asleep during the Sixth Age. Doomwing had been enraged by her refusal to fight, but he had not pushed the matter any further. Ashheart would not have taken her refusal so well. The tectonic dragon had little love for traitors, and only his inability to face her on even footing in the dreaming lands would have prevented him from dragging her into the battle by her tail.

She would need to speak to him later. If she was lucky, she would have Doomwing with her. Regardless of how Ashheart felt about her lack of action, if Doomwing forgave her, then he would leave it at that. He trusted Doomwing’s judgement although he would undoubtedly keep a closer eye on her, lest she abandon them in their hour of need again.

A sudden shockwave of power rippled through the dreaming lands, and she turned her attention to the disturbance. It was Doomwing. She could not possibly mistake his power for anyone else’s. He had loosened the wards around part of his territory, making it possible for her to travel there from the dreaming lands.

Was it a trap?

No. If Doomwing wished to harm her, he would simply devise some ridiculous magic to blow up significant chunks of the dreaming lands without ever exposing himself to harm. It sounded impossible, but she had learned not to doubt the other dragon. He had a knack for accomplishing the impossible when it came to magic.

This was an invitation, and it was not one she could easily refuse.

“Will you go?” It was Hikari. She had come to discuss matters regarding Frostfang.

“Yes.” Dreamsong uncoiled, scales gleaming a thousand different shades of purple as her power stirred in earnest. “If I do not show myself, I do not know when I will receive another invitation.”

“It could be a trap.”

“We both know it isn’t. That’s not the sort of person he is.”

Hikari sighed. “Be careful. And flee back into the dreaming lands if it goes poorly.” She paused. “Do you want me to go with you?” It went unspoken that she would be of little help in an actual fight, but she might provide a decent distraction should Dreamsong need to flee.

“No.” Dreamsong shook her head. “This is complicated enough already. I do not think your unexpected presence would help matters.”

“I see.” Hikari inclined her head. “Then be safe and good luck.”

Dreamsong let the currents of dream, desire, and fantasy sweep her away from the shadow of Mother Tree and into the fraying fabric of the border between waking and sleep. It would be easy for the inexperienced or unwary to be swept away, either thrown out into some random place in the physical world or else dragged ever deeper into the dreaming lands. But Dreamsong was neither inexperienced or unwary. She rode the currents and then bent them to her will, seeking the junction between her domain and the physical world that corresponded to Doomwing’s location.

She arrived to find herself in clear skies. Some great force had driven back the endless clouds of ash and smoke that spanned the horizon, leaving only the open sky above her. Below, a great section of the twisted volcanic landscape had been crushed flat, nothing but fine powder remaining of what had once been a morass of jagged rock and soaring stone.

And waiting below her was Doomwing.

He was resplendent in the orange glow of a dozen molten rivers. His red scales were a deep, luminous ruby whilst his blue scales were a vivid, piercing sapphire. He was roughly a mile long, and although his form lacked the sheer size and bulk of Ashheart’s, there was no mistaking the carefully controlled deadliness that lurked within.

Doomwing was renowned for his magic, but he had no reason to fear an opponent who closed in. He was swift, strong, decisive, and cunning, and his claws and teeth were as sharp as any dragon’s. Even amongst their fellow primordial dragons, perhaps only Ashheart would not baulk at facing him in close combat. Doomwing might not be the strongest or the fastest, but he was no slouch in either area. Against an opponent who was stronger, he would turn the battle into a contest of speed. Against someone faster, he would make it a battle of strength.

His golden eyes narrowed as she landed, maintaining a respectful distance between them. She was all too aware now of the differences in their posture. He stood proudly, utterly confident in his power and ready and willing to give battle at a moment’s notice although he had no intention of seeking it without reason. She, however, was coiled in on herself, not afraid, but wary. She made a conscious decision to adopt a more confident posture, and she saw the faintest glimmer of something in his gaze.

It was tempting to reach out with her telepathy, to find out what precisely that emotion was, but that would have been unbelievably rude. Instead, she contented herself with studying the injury he’d taken. It was almost completely healed now, with the remaining damage being mostly cosmetic in nature. To this day, she had no idea how Kagami had obtained a spear made of god-metal with functional divine runes upon it. And she had even less idea how Doomwing had not only survived the spear but also broken it and used its power to strike down Kagami.

“It has been a while,” Doomwing rumbled.

“It it has,” Dreamsong replied. “Are you well?”

For a long moment, he stared at her. “Am I well? A strange question coming from you.”

The words stung, but there was truth in them. “I would like to apologise.”

“Is it forgiveness you seek?” Doomwing asked. “When you refused to aid us against Kagami, there was a part of me that hated you, that wanted little more than to tear you limb from limb. That part of me was very loud indeed when I got stabbed by that spear of hers.”

Dreamsong barely managed to keep from flinching. “I understand.”

“But another part of me understood your decision. She was your daughter your family in all but blood.”

“She was,” Dreamsong said, and she hated how heavy the grief in her voice was despite the thousand years that had passed. “But that was no excuse. I should have acted.”

“Yes, you should have.” Doomwing’s voice was flat, but his gaze burned. “Even so I understood why you could not act even if I could never make the same choice as you.”

Despite the situation, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. “What do you mean?”

“To kill someone you love is not an easy thing. It is a weight as heavy as the world,” Doomwing said. “I too have faced that choice, and there will always be a part of me that wishes I could have made the same choice as you as foolish and pointless as it would have been.”

Was this about Mother Tree? Dreamsong knew he and Mother Tree had been close. Of all the dragons of the Second Age, perhaps none had known her better than Doomwing. That was why he had led the battle against her and had devised the strategy that had eventually laid her low.

No this could not be about just Mother Tree. There had to be more.

“Did I ever tell you how I achieved my Second Awakening?” Doomwing asked.

She shook her head. “No. You’ve spoken of your other Awakenings, but never that one. It seemed odd, but” Awakenings were generally considered private affairs. It was rude to ask about them unless invited. Doomwing had occasionally mentioned his other Awakenings, but not once had he ever mentioned his Second Awakening to her. She had asked Dawnscale about it once, in the days before the other dragon had left. She had simply shaken her head and warned Dreamsong to never ask about it if she valued her friendship with Doomwing.

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And now, he was speaking of it.

“I remember the day my parents died,” Doomwing said. “It was the day we dragons went to war against the Broken God.” He stared into the distance, at a time and place that now only existed in fleeting dreams and fading memories. “They told me to hide, to find somewhere safe should the worst occur. I promised them I would, but I followed them in secret.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “I had already experienced my First Awakening, and I could not believe that anything could stand against us dragons when we gathered all our might.”

Doomwing’s eyes shone. “It was beautiful, Dreamsong. It was so beautiful. The skies were filled with dragons, so many you could not count them all. From horizon to horizon, as far as my eyes could see, in whatever direction I cared to look, there were dragons. Scales of every shade and colour, wings of every size and shape. It was the most splendid thing I had ever seen, and my heart swelled when I saw my parents. They were a part of it. They were there amidst all the others.”

Dreamsong had not been there that day. She had not seen that sight. She had not yet experienced her First Awakening, so she had hidden as her parents asked, huddling in a cave in a mountain range far from the fighting. Her parents had left her with plenty of food and several treasures to help her grow, and they had nudged her with their snouts and then left. She had never seen them again.

“The greatest of our number were there too,” Doomwing said. “The oldest and mightiest of our kind, dragons who had been crafted by the Seven Gods themselves. I wanted to be just like them.” His voice did not shake, but his claws curled into fists. “At the head of them all was Sovereign Flame. He was like a star shining in the sky, his flames so bright and hot that I could not believe he could lose. And alongside him were Tempest Claw, Paradox Fang, Night Storm, and so many others”

Doomwing took a deep breath. “It was so beautiful, and when I saw the Seven Gods marching into battle in the distance, I knew we would be victorious, for who could stand against so many and prevail?”

Dreamsong knew who could. They all knew.

“Even when I saw the Broken God, I could not believe that we could lose.” Doomwing’s voice came out in a hiss. “He was a wretched thing, an abomination of corrupted god-metal whose mere presence was wrong in a way that words cannot describe. He loomed in the distance, as large as the Seven Gods, and the very world recoiled from his presence.” He took a deep, deep breath. “I remember seeing him throw the Seven Gods aside and then I remember the flash of un-light that followed, a radiance that corrupted instead of cleansed, that consumed instead of revealing. And then I remember falling and burning” He stared down at his claws. “I never thought a dragon could burn until that moment. But I burned, and so did all the dragons around me. They burned, and they fell like dying leaves in an autumn wind, and all that beauty, all that glory all of it was gone, cast aside as easily as you or I might cast aside a pebble.”

Doomwing shook his head as if to clear away the memories. “When I woke up, I was dying. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. All around me were dead and dying dragons. You cannot imagine what it was like. The dead lay sprawled about in great heaps, their scales broken, their forms mangled. The dying cried out for help or mercy or death. I cried out too. I cried out for my parents, for Mother Tree, for my friends but they were not there.”

Dreamsong was silent. What could she say to that? She had felt the moment the Broken God had attacked, for it had shaken the very mountains around her despite the great distance between them and the battlefield. And by the time she had emerged from her cave, little had remained of those dead dragons. Their bodies had been utterly destroyed in the increasingly destructive battle between the Broken God and the First Gods.

But Doomwing had seen their bodies. He had been there amongst them.

“I don’t know why, but I knew I had to seek out my parents. I couldn’t fly. My wings were broken. Instead, I crawled. With broken limbs and shattered claws, I crawled. It wasn’t far. The distance was perhaps several times the length I am now. It felt like forever to me. And on a hillside, I found them.”

Flame kindled in Doomwing’s jaws. “I dragged myself to them. They were still alive, Dreamsong. Somehow, they were still alive. When they saw me, they wept. I had never seen them weep before. They had thought me safe, and there I was, dying alongside them.” He stared up at the sky and the twinkling stars overhead. “I remember thinking that it wouldn’t be so bad to die beside them, that at least, I wouldn’t die alone. I I didn’t want to die alone, surrounded by strangers. If I was going to die, I wanted it to be with people I cared about. And I was dying, Dreamsong. That attack it had ruined all of the channels that carry magic through my body, along with most of my bones and internal organs. I still don’t know how I managed to reach my parents, but I did.”

His voice was cold. He could have been talking about the weather. But his eyes. He did not weep, but there was sorrow in them deeper than she had ever seen before.

“But my father he didn’t want me to die, and neither did my mother. So they asked me a question. They asked me how close I was to my Second Awakening.” Doomwing’s jaw clenched. “I told them that it didn’t matter, but they insisted. Do you know why?”

Dreamsong nodded slowly. “A Second Awakening would have been able to heal your injuries.”

“Yes,” Doomwing said. “And my parents knew that. But I wasn’t very close to my Second Awakening. It hadn’t been all that long since my First Awakening. But they wanted me to live, and so they asked me to do something for them.”

Dreamsong felt a shiver run through her. She had an inkling, a vague suspicion, but she dared not voice it. “What did they ask you to do?”

“Did you know that a dragon’s heart contains an absolutely massive amount of power?” Doomwing said. “But cannibalism is rarely practiced since a heart unwillingly taken will rebel against whoever takes it. There are ways around that, of course, magics and rituals that can be carried out. But I didn’t know any of them and neither did my parents. However, a heart willingly given well that’s another story, and a far, far rarer one.”

Dreamsong wanted to wretch.

“No dragon would ever give up their heart to another. Why would they? It would mean death, and no dragon wishes to die. But my parents were already dying, and so was I. My father and mother had both experienced their Second Awakenings. They were strong, or so I thought. They asked me to take their hearts, to use their power and achieve my own Second Awakening. They wanted me to live, Dreamsong, even at the cost of their own lives.”

Doomwing dragged in a deep, deep breath. “The strictly logical part of me knows that they made the only reasonable choice. We were all dying. All three of us. There was no way they could save themselves, but they could still save me if they gave me their hearts. There was no guarantee that I would achieve my Second Awakening, but better probable death than certain death.” Doomwing chuckled softly. “I was so stupid. I couldn’t understand what they were saying or why. My father had to explain it to me. He talked about it like it was the most normal thing in the world, like the three of us weren’t just dying there.”

Doomwing stared down at his claws. “But you know he and my mother were too badly injured to tear out their own hearts, so he asked me to do it instead.” He stared at her. “My own father asked me to tear out his heart and eat it before doing the same to my mother. Do you know what it was like to hear him say that?”

Dreamsong was silent. What could she even say to that?

“I wanted to say no. I wanted to say that I was happy to die beside them. But I wanted to live. I wanted to live because if I died, who would avenge them?” Doomwing roared. “They were my parents! I loved them! I thought they were the greatest dragons in the world! And there they were, dying on some nameless hillside. I could have borne it if they had fallen in a battle worthy of story and song, in honourable combat with their teeth and claws stained with the blood of the enemy, their fire scorching the armour of their foes! But to die like that? To be cut down like sheep by a foe who didn’t even know their names? Unbearable! It was unbearable! They were Flareroar and Riftclaw! Their names should have been known throughout the world. Instead, they were dying, and the one who’d killed them hadn’t even spared them a glance!”

Doomwing snarled. “I did as my father asked. With what remained of my strength, I tore his heart from his chest and ate it. He died screaming, and my mother praised me for being able to do it. And then I tore her heart from her chest and ate it too, and she died screaming just like he did. The last thing either of them ever felt was my claws tearing them apart!” His snarl turned into another roar. “They gave me their hearts, and it was their power, what little of it that remained, that allowed me to reach my Second Awakening. I was healed, and they were dead, and the Broken God was still alive. That was the first time I knew what real hate was.”

Dreamsong shuddered. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that he had done what was necessary, that his parents had asked him to do it. But the words were like ashes in her mouth, and she could not speak them, not with the rage and sorrow in his gaze.

“I wanted to join the battle again, but I knew that if I did, I would die. And my parents had wanted me to live. My vengeance would have to wait until I had the strength to take it. Instead, I looked for others who might have survived. I remember Stormtooth had told me she would be fighting. She had been so proud, so ready to do her part against the Broken God. I found her. She was already dead. Her scales were turned to dust, her flesh to ash, and only her bones remained. But I recognised her by her teeth. She had always been so proud of them. She was my best friend, and all that was left of her were her bones.” Doomwing shook his head. “She had been closer to the Broken God, you see, so his power had struck her even more heavily than it had hit me or my parents.”

“But not everyone was dead,” Doomwing said. “I helped those I could, and I wondered why I hadn’t learned more healing magic. But there was little I could do for them. I think I think I must have tried to help several hundred of them. Only a handful survived. And then the Broken God fell. I saw it in the distance. It cost the First Gods their lives, but he fell.”

“Doomwing” she finally managed to speak, but it took all she had to simply speak his name.

“It was Mother Tree who comforted me afterward. It was her boughs that held me, her words that soothed me, her presence that made me believe we could rebuild. But you know how that ended.” Doomwing exhaled, weary. “So believe me when I say that I understand what it is like to have to kill what someone you love. You were faced with that choice, and you could not bring yourself to do it. I did. And there will always be a part of me that wishes I had not been able to do it, that I had been able to die alongside my parents instead of killing them with my own claws. It was necessary. It was the only way. It was something they asked of me. But that does not change what happened. It only explains it.”

His gaze drifted to her once more. “Do not ask for my forgiveness. It means little in the end. Instead, do better. I live now because others were willing to die for me. I cannot will not allow their sacrifices to have been in vain. My parents loved this world. They died trying to defend it. If I must die doing the same, then so be it. I have made my choice, and I will stand by it to the end whatever that end may be. You made your choice, now all you can do is live with the consequences. You spared Kagami, and it cost many their lives. If you cannot bear to be confronted with that choice again, then make sure it never happens again. Save as many lives as she took.”

“” Dreamsong took a deep breath of her own. “Hikari is planning to bring the kitsune back into the world.”

Doomwing’s eyes blazed. “And is she like her mother?”

“No,” Dreamasong replied. “She is better. She carries her father’s dreams of peace and prosperity but with none of the madness that consumed her mother. She and the kitsune will come with open hands, seeking friendship and cooperation. They will come as equals, not as conquerors or rulers.”

“Then you have already begun to atone for your mistake.” Doomwing peered at her. “The guilt never truly goes away, but in time it grows dull, and there are days when it is almost gone. Your guilt comes from being unable to do what must be done whilst mine comes from doing what had to be done. Others may hold your mercy against you, and there is a part of me that does too. Yet the young dragon in me, the foolish, nave hatchling who thought his parents were the greatest dragons in the whole world will not fault you for your choice. That dragon would have preferred to die beside his parents rather than use their deaths to survive. That dragon would not have been able to strike down Kagami either. Mercy mercy is not always a bad thing.”

“So what now?” Dreamsong asked.

“We move on,” Doomwing said. “I am trusting you when it comes to Hikari and the kitsune. I was wrong to trust you with Kagami. I hope that I am not wrong again.”

“You won’t be,” Dreamsong said. She paused, uncertain if she should speak her next words. In the end, she decided to say them and risk his wrath, if only because it might provide him comfort too. “You know, when you used to come to the dreaming lands, there were two shadows that always followed you. I did not recognise them at the time, but”

“I know who they are,” Doomwing said. Fondness filled his words. “My parents were stubborn fools, right up until the end. It is not surprising that their wills should linger even this long after their deaths.” He turned away. “We have spoken long enough. You should go.”

It was a dismissal, plain and simple, and it stung. But as she too turned to leave, he spoke again.

“I have business to attend to, but we will speak again when it is concluded. Bring Hikari next time.” He paused. “And do not seek out Ashheart on your own. If you must speak with him, come to me first.”