“It’s your turn, Miss Knight,” Sedrik summoned, dripping with resentment.
Swept up in her ruminations, a few seconds passed before Kilena lifted her head with confidence and marched forward into the throne room. She knew by the sound of light footsteps in longer strides behind her that Targath followed.
“Miss Maverick, before we discuss your business I must first ask who you have with you and why you brought him into my castle,” the king requested, submerging into his throne.
“Of course, your majesty,” Kilena respectfully complied, gesturing toward her cursed elf companion. “His name is Targath, and he has not only saved my life twice but he has knowledge regarding the matter I must discuss. He is an ally, that I promise. I trust him.”
“He’s a ruffian is what he is,” Sedrik commented, still sore over his tortured elbow.
“I will allow him to stay as long as he does not draw his weapons,” the king permitted.
Targath curtly bowed his head. “Thank you, your majesty, but I’m more interested in letting Kilena speak than disturbing the peace.”
“The reason I have come is regrettable,” she said, stepping into the opportunity that Targath forged. Every round feature of her aspect turned to steel, conveying the signifance of her words. “I must implore your aid in defending Draconiam from Ivna again.”
The king’s eyes swelled after Kilena made her opening statement. His stunned silence gave Sedrik the chance to interject. “Why should we trust the word of a traitor? She was willing to leave us for dead to protect a dragon, full well knowing the dragons abandoned us when we needed them most.”
Heldric rested his elbows on the arms of his throne, and pressed the pads of his fingers together to form a steeple. Head bowed, he internally deliberated.
“They have not gone. I have spoken with them as I spoke with Frineer. They left because their patriarch was killed during the last war against Ivna, and to this day they blame humans for the corruption of their brood sister. I intend to prove that the fault was not so one sided. Both Ivna and Amodeus were corrupt from the start.”
The king’s soft voice chimed in, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “Is that what happened?”
Furrowing her eyebrows, Kilena asked, “To what are you referring, your majesty?”
“Sedrik informed me that you removed yourself from the order, and a few days later I learned you left the city entirely. I was shocked, and when I inquired was told you resigned because of your failure to confront and defeat the dragon that caused the drought. Days after you left, the rains came. Livestock grew healthy and strong again. To me it seemed like you had succeeded.”
Her voice sang a higher pitch above her usual silvery voice. “Is that the story you were given?” Heldric nodded, confirming her suspicions. Kilena stood firm, and frowned with renewed composure. “The truth of the matter is that I encountered Frineer sleeping in a cave under the mountain and he was unwell. Frineer is the divine dragon of agriculture. His poor health contributed to our trouble, but we also experienced an unusually dry season. I brought medicinal herbs to help Frineer. Roselake’s turn of fortune must have come because he recovered from his illness. As for the reason I left home, when I returned from tending to Frineer and explained to Sedrik what happened, I was ridiculed. They told me I was pitiful and worthless as a knight, and a shame to the Maverick name, which led me to leave.”
“What a wild tale,” Sedrik exclaimed. “Stop vomiting nonsense, woman, no one can speak with dragons.”
“You pompous idiot,” Targath snapped, throat tensed, fixing a murderous, golden glare on Sedrik. “I have witnessed her speak with a dragon.”
“And why should we believe a cursed elf?”
“Because I am three times your age. I have knowledge beyond your narrow sight and I can kill you without weapons if you make me lose restraint.”
“Targath, please,” Kilena urged, well aware her companion’s claims were true. Her sapphire eyes held caution, experiencing for the first time this terrifying side of Targath that Sedrik provoked.
“Order,” Heldric called over them, and paused to watch the two men settle. “Kilena, you claimed Targath has knowledge of your equally incredible claim that we need to take up arms against Ivna once again. I would hear him out.”
Targath relented his scowl against Sedrik, favoring the king of Roselake perched upon his throne with a gentler gaze. He stepped forward to stand beside Kilena, and garnered attention. “For those not familiar with how the dragon war started, allow me to enlighten you. About eight or nine human generations ago Amodeus, the warlock serving your emperor at the time, developed a concoction. It was used to alter a select few’s bodies so they understood dragons, and they became known as dragonkin. As a result, humans formed a stronger bond with their creator, Dotine. Life became more prosperous than ever. Sidenote, they were selfish about it and horded their good fortune for themselves.” Flicking his eyes around the room, he observed the incredulous expressions of Heldric and Sedrik.
I digress. This brew wasn’t developed for noble means. Ivna used her elf form to visit Amodeus, but to truly cooperate he needed to understand dragon tongue. So while humans enjoyed peace, the two plotted. What we don’t know is who corrupted who during their discussions, or if they were both already hungry for power. Then Amodues and Ivna incited war, and dragonkin were your elite warriors. On the backs of god dragons, they rode into battle and all of them died, but at least one had a child.” Targath briefly flashed an index finger. He held a stiff posture, matching his tone that tried to remain impartial. “The dragonkin trait carried on through generations, and is renewed in Kilena. It might have always been present in her ancestors, but she was the first to actually discover this trait. Kilena claimed war is coming, and this is why. Ivna was not defeated by the final dragonkin who gave his life, but she and Amodeus have been slumber in the elf’s old homeland to recover their strength. For those wondering how I know, well, the fae have continued worshiping her and receiving her blessing. They have now awakened because one of her offspring was killed by this very knight standing before you.” With a wave of both hands, he gestured beside him to Kilena.
“We both have come face to face with Amodeus. His power is incredible and terrible,” she stated in solemn remembrance.
The king asked, “What do Amodeus and Ivna hope to achieve?”
“The same as before. Utter destruction. Corruption will spread across the land, cursing all life and bringing ruin,” Targath bluntly answered, almost unapologetic.
Kilena added, “Roselake is but my first of many destinations to unite Draconiam against Ivna. I will never let her succeed, even if it costs me my life.”
Heldric drummed his fingers against the arm of his throne in contemplation, and then his aged eyes fixed upon Sedrik. “And how do you feel about Miss Maverick now? It seems to me that by shaming her into leaving her home she has achieved a fate greater than she could have ever achieved by remaining in the Iron Rose order.”
Kilena’s gaze flitted away from the king to Sedrik, etchings of embitterment marking his expression. “I never thought about it that way,” she said with a timid but tepid smile.
“Absurd,” Sedrik bellowed. “You cannot seriously be considering this as true. Allow me to take some men and scout for confirmation of their claims, your majesty.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he politely declined with a palm held up to pause Sedrik. “You have already proven to me how little your word can be trusted. Kilena, on the other hand, has always done me an honest service. Her father would be proud.”
Kilena’s smile broadened with a hint of sorrow glistening in her eyes. She graciously said, “If only he could heave heard those words.”
In contrast, Sedrik’s voice hashly objected. “I won’t stand for this!”
Targath’s patience snapped, and he pivoted toward the Iron Rose knight. “Quit being childish. Are you that upset about Kilena being a better person than you?”
Provoked by his taunt, Sedrik drew the longsword from his hip in a flourish that swiped toward the cursed elf’s torso.
“Enough! Enough of this,” Heldric demanded.
Targath quickly reacted with reflexes born from years honing battle skills to perfection. After twirling aside, he gripped Sedrik’s wrist then twisted and disarmed the man of his sword, eliciting a yelp as bone neared the breaking point. Triumphant, Targath exclaimed, “Kilena is a better person than any one of us.”
Kilena’s widened eyes locked on the cursed elf. A protracted moment passed as heat ascended through her neck, and she turned away. Her quiet voice mingled with gratitude and doubt. “Targath…”
He released Sedrik’s wrist in the same instant he batted the sword away with the side of his boot to the chorus of metal skittering against stone. The ensuing tense silence was sundered by a screeching roar, muffled by the stone walls surrounding the throne room. A shadow darted across the colored glass panes, and Kilena rushed to the nearest windowsill. “Utiss!”
Golden eyes piercing Sedrik to deter further hostility, Targath asked, “Kilena, what’s wrong?”
“She’s battling a cursed dragon!”
Sedrik’s glaring expression cracked with mocking laugher, chin tilted toward the ceiling in triumph. “Ha. Do you see? She brought danger to our very doorstep.”
Heldric pushed out of his throne in alarm. “Who is Utiss?”
Armor clinked as Kilena marched toward Targath, snatching his wrist in her gloved fingers. “Utiss is the youngest god dragon which I rescued from a sorceress. We need to go help her!”
He fell into step to match her pace, accompanying Kilena out through the great hall in haste.
“Well go on, don’t just stand there! Find a way to help them,” the king ordered Sedrik.
Sneering, he noisily retrieved his sword by snatching up the hilt in his fingers. The tip dragged along stone with a screech, and then he sheathed the blade. “I’ll help all right,” he mumbled, advancing out of the room. His shouts, a call to arms, brought guards, eager to follow his orders hastily to his side. “Gather the heavy bolts! Prepare the ballista!”
Kilena Shrelack 