The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon - Chapter 8: The Dragon Dreams

Chapter 8: The Dragon Dreams

Doomwing had never been especially gifted in the art of dream walking. Personal interest and then necessity had pushed him toward more practical applications. However, the Sixth Age had revived his interest in the field, if only so he could protect himself from the Sixth Catastrophe. Even so, he had only ever become adept enough to defend himself. He had never, even for a moment, considered confronting Kagami in the ever-shifting and turbulent realm that reflected both their dreams and the collective dreams of everyone else with a soul. He was powerful, yes, and perhaps a little arrogant as befitted a primordial dragon, but he was not stupid or suicidal.

For all his might, in that realm, Kagami would have bested him, and that was before she had become the Sixth Catastrophe. After her… ascension, she would have slaughtered him with the same ease he would have shown in slaying some uppity drake. Even Marcus, so much more adept in battles of the mind and memory, had been forced to admit that all he could have done against her was stall for time. Knowing that he could never win a confrontation of that kind, Doomwing had focused his efforts on defence. His crowning achievement was discovering an ancient rune that could drag both him and his opponent out of the dreaming lands and back into the physical world. That rune had saved his life in the final battle and had allowed them to triumph although they had all paid heavily for the victory.

Now, however, he had a use for dream walking. Antaria had proven she wasn’t completely hopeless, so he wished to see how far he could push her. She had the right temperament for physical and magical training, so it was now a question of honing her mind. The issue was the number of hours in the day. Until she became more adept at absorbing magic from her surroundings and circulating it through her body, she would require the same amount of sleep as a regular person. Unfortunately, the time she spent sleeping could not be used for anything else.

That simply wouldn’t do.

If he could learn how to dream walk properly, he would be able to instruct her while she slept. Time did not flow at the same speed in the world of dreams, so he could cram an entire’s day’s worth of learning into her head while only occupying perhaps an hour or two of her sleeping time in the physical world. She would still be able to get enough rest, and he would be able to see if she was capable of learning anything apart from how to stab people or blast them with magic.

The issue was actually learning how to dream walk. There were people he could seek out. One of his fellow primordial dragons, Dreamsong, was a muse dragon. She could weave illusions so convincing that they could take on solid form and substance, making real the things she imagined, if only for a moment. She could also enter the dreams of others and bend the very fabric of the dreaming lands to her will. Unfortunately, they were no longer on speaking terms.

Kagami might have betrayed her and used her teachings to become the Sixth Catastrophe, but Dreamsong had still loved her like a daughter. Even after witnessing the atrocities Kagami had committed, Dreamsong had never been able to raise a hand against her, and she had never forgiven Doomwing for killing her. Oh, Dreamsong understood on an intellectual level that Doomwing had done the right thing, but the heart was not bound by logic, and Dreamsong’s heart had always been softer than her scales.

After the disaster of the Fifth Catastrophe, many of the beast people of the world had scattered and hidden themselves from the vengeful wrath of those they had wronged. The kitsune had been all but wiped out and had only found safety by hiding in a land halfway between the physical world and the dreaming lands. There, they had met Dreamsong, and she had taken them under her wing. Kagami had been her most favoured student, and Dreamsong had been so pleased to see the relationship between Elerion and Kagami blossom into more than friendship. Elerion had no longer been a young man then, but what did age matter to Kagami when kitsune could live for millennia if they were powerful enough?

And Kagami had been strong, far stronger than any kitsune Doomwing had met before or since.

Of course, things had fallen apart in the end. Kagami had fallen prey to her own worst fears and had become the very monster that her people had so often been accused of being. And Dreamsong had retreated back into the dreaming lands with what remained of the kitsune, her attention focused solely on the child that Kagami had left behind, the kitsune girl who was also Elerion’s last child.

What a mess.

But before Kagami had gone mad, she had given Doomwing a gift. After all, they had been friends. It was a spell book, one that contained a number of powerful spells related to dream walking. He had accepted it happily back then but had never had the time to learn its contents. After she had become the Sixth Catastrophe, he had been wary of opening the book, lest the contents turn out to be a trap. However, with Kagami long dead and his injuries mostly healed, he was confident that he could open the book without putting himself in danger. If it turned out to be a trap, he would simply destroy the thing. If, however, it turned out to be a genuine gift, the spells within would solve his problems.

Landing on the shores of the lake where he liked to nap, Doomwing called the book to him. It was a small thing, sized for a person instead of a dragon, but his powers were more than up to the task of handling it. A minute burst of power unlocked the seal that held it shut, and he readied ancient runes for protection, destruction, and returning himself to the physical world. He did not fully commit to them – even he could not use three ancient runes of this calibre lightly – but their partially completed forms would allow him to act in an instant if the book turned out to be dangerous.

The book opened, and he stared at the first page.

It was a simple message written in Kagame’s familiar hand.

“To Doomwing,” he murmured, reading the message aloud. “You’re terrible at dream walking, so I decided to put a few spells you might find useful in this book. I would have included the greater runes or ancient runes I know, but Dreamsong said you suck too much to actually perceive those properly. I personally think she might have been a bit too harsh, but she has known you longer than I have. I also remember the last time you tried to interrogate someone using telepathy. You made their head explode. If you do ever get around to learning these spells, please find someone to practice them on, preferably someone you wouldn’t mind killing because I do not want you accidentally blowing up the head of someone important and then blaming me. With much respect and a smidgen of affection, Kagami.”

His lips twitched, and he began to laugh. “You always did have a sharp tongue.” He used his power to flip through the book. No trap was sprung, and the greater runes of scrying he used to examine the book intently detected no hidden spells or concealed runes. It was a spell book, albeit an extremely well made one. For rather than describing the spells and the way his magic had to be controlled to use them, it contained memories from Kagami that showed her demonstrating and explaining each spell. “It seems you were still yourself when you gave this to me,” Doomwing mused. “I should share this with Marcus the next time I see him.”

Doomwing settled down to begin learning. With this sort of spell book, it shouldn’t take him more than a day or two to learn the spells. The most difficult of them was a twelfth-order spell, but that was well within his abilities. The main issue would be practicing on living targets. Hmm… he could use the mirror to find contact Enarion. There were bound to be a few rebellious idiots who nobody would miss.

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Antaria was doing her best impression of a mudskipper as she dragged her exhausted body back toward the house that Doomwing’s construct had created for her next to Daphne’s tree. It was a simple thing made of earth that he had shaped with his magic. The rooms inside were basic and filled only with the supplies that she’d brought with her. The bed was slightly better. After throwing herself on Daphne’s mercy, she had convinced the dryad to make a bed for her out of living wood, which was far more comfortable than the stone bed that Doomwing had originally made, especially once Antaria had improvised a mattress stuffed with the feathers of some giant bird… thing that Doomwing had told her to kill.

Well, it was more like Doomwing had told her they were going for a training run only for his construct to mysteriously disappear right as a giant bird monster had swooped down to attack her. Antaria had only been training with Doomwing for a few days, but she had already noticed massive improvements in her strength, speed, and endurance. What should have been a laborious fight had ended with her bludgeoning the beast to death before immediately focusing on whether or not it would taste good because Doomwing had made it very clear that she would not be allowed to rely solely on Daphne to provide food for her.

No.

He wanted her to hunt her own food and thereby put her lessons to good use. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was using his construct to kidnap monsters to throw at her, but she had no proof, and he certainly wasn’t going to admit it. On the upside, the bird had proven to be quite delicious, and the magic that still flowed through its flesh had only added to the taste and the benefits. Humans might not have the knack for absorbing the strengths of those they ate that dragons did, but they could still benefit from consuming the flesh of monsters if that flesh was cooked properly and the human had received the right training.

It turned out that the reason so many people died after eating monster flesh was because their bodies didn’t know how to handle the sudden surge in magic that came from the flesh. Without the ability to circulate and purify that magic, that power would rupture the channels that carried magic through the body, resulting in swift, horrible death. Of course, Doomwing had only told her that after she’d started eating, resulting in another frantic session of magic circulation. He had later revealed that he had several spells capable of making her vomit if she had proven unable to circulate her magic well enough, but that had only increased her ire. One of these days…

Now, though, with her training for the day complete, she dragged herself toward her house. Daphne had been told to instruct her on the intricacies of farming, and the dryad had proven to be incredibly knowledgeable on the subject. Antaria had never given much thought to farming, but the subject was oddly fascinating, and not just in terms of how food was grown but also in how the logistics of transporting it effectively could make or break a kingdom. It helped that Daphne’s lessons didn’t feature potential death if she didn’t learn fast enough, but perhaps helping the nearby villages improve would not be as onerous an ordeal as she had thought.

A panicked neigh from overhead drew her attention. After sitting the first day out, her loyal unicorn Swiftstride had been subjected to his own training. Apparently, once Doomwing’s construct tired of beating her up, he was happy to beat the stallion up instead. Swiftstride’s training was focused on improving his speed, agility, and endurance in the air. It involved flying an elaborate course through the sky, complete with burning rings, summoned creatures to harry him, and a twelve-feet-long draconic construct who delighted in firing bolts of lightning whenever the unicorn wasn’t performing as well as expected.

Swiftstride had attempted to rebel precisely once. At which point, Doomwing’s construct had summoned a lightning elemental and ordered the creature to chase Swiftstride around until he’d practically fallen out of the sky in exhaustion. Doomwing had labelled his performance worthy of a flying donkey and had upped the intensity even more. Under normal circumstances, Antaria would have done her best to help her loyal mount. Now, though, she saw the time Doomwing focused on Swiftstride as time he wasn’t focused on her. But once she and her unicorn had both improved, they could get revenge together.

“Do you want any help?” Daphne asked. The dryad looked down at Antaria, a raccoon clinging onto her back like a monkey.

“Don’t.” Antaria continued to crawl toward her house. “If you help me, he’ll only add extra tasks to my training to make up for it.”

“If you’re sure.” Daphne tilted her head to the side. “But if you want, I can start the lesson now while you’re still crawling back.”

“That would be fine, thanks.”

That night, Antaria crawled into bed. She missed the baths she got to take in the palace, baths with hot water, maids to attend her, and all the cosmetic luxuries she could dream of. Her current bath consisted of taking a dip in a nearby stream after putting up several third-order spells to warn her about intruders and observers. She had neglected to put those up on the first night, and Doomwing had responded by herding several huge wild boars toward her. She’d been utterly exhausted at the time, but she’d still managed to kill them, albeit she’d been forced to drown the last one since she’d lost her sword at some point in the fight, and her knuckles had hurt from punching one of them to death. Oh well. The boar meat had tasted decent enough.

Circulating her magic and absorbing magic from her surroundings as she’d been taught, Antaria felt herself slip into an almost meditative trance. She was still better at circulating magic and absorbing magic when she wasn’t doing anything else but having to fight random monsters on a daily basis was rapidly improving her ability to do both under pressure. Sighing, she let sleep claim her.

A dream of green fields and blue skies awaited her, a place free from dragons who confused attempted murder for teaching, a place with hot springs, comfortable beds, and food prepared by professional chefs instead of charred over a campfire while the aforementioned dragon tried to remember recipes from centuries ago.

“Get up.”

She blinked. Why was Doomwing’s construct in her dream. “No.”

The construct padded over and then yanked her up onto her feet. To her horror a chair appeared beneath her, and the rolling fields and open skies gave way to a large library.

“You spend too much of your time sleeping and slacking off. From now on, you will spend at least some of that time learning.”

A book appeared on the table in front of her and words began to appear in the air behind Doomwing.

“Today, we will be discussing logistics and why it matters. I will not have some fool ruling in my name. Elerion was a farmer’s son, and he still managed to learn enough to be a great king. You are a princess. Assuming your education hasn’t been completely awful, I expect you to do better.”

Antaria stifled the urge to scream.