A Forge of Valor . Морган Райс
life. A part of him no longer wanted to live either.
Another part, though, burned with rage, was desperate to kill those humans, to avenge his father and destroy the land below him. He did not know where he was, yet he sensed intuitively that he was oceans away from his homeland. Some instinct drove him to go back home; yet he did not know where home was.
The baby flew aimlessly, so lost in the world, breathing flames on treetops, on whatever he could find. Soon he ran out of fire, and soon after that, he found himself dipping lower and lower, with each flap of the wing. He tried to rise, but he found, in a panic, that he no longer had the strength. He tried to avoid a treetop, but his wings could no longer lift him, and he smashed right into it, smarting from all the old wounds that had not healed.
In agony, he bounced off it and continued flying, his elevation continually decreasing as he lost strength. He dripped blood, falling like raindrops below. He was weak from hunger, from his wounds, from the thousand jabs of spears he had received. He wanted to fly on, to find a target for destruction, but he felt his eyes closing, too heavy for him now. He felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness.
The dragon knew he was dying. In a way it was a relief; soon, he would join his father.
He was awakened by the sound of rustling leaves and cracking branches and as he felt himself smashing through treetops, he finally opened his eyes. His vision was obscured in a world of green. No longer able to control himself, he felt himself tumbling, snapping branches, each snap hurting him more.
He finally came to an abrupt stop high up in a tree, stuck between branches, too weak to struggle. He hung there, immobile, in too much pain to move, each breath hurting more than the next. He was sure he would die up here, tangled in the trees.
One of the branches suddenly gave with a loud snap, and the dragon plummeted. He tumbled end over end, snapping more branches, falling a good fifty feet, until finally he hit the ground.
He lay there, feeling all his ribs cracking, breathing blood. He flapped one wing slowly, but could not do much more.
As he felt the life force leaving him, it felt unfair, premature. He knew he had a destiny, but he could not understand what it was. It appeared to be short and cruel, born in this world only to witness his father’s death, and then to die himself. Maybe that was what life was: cruel and unfair.
As he felt his eyes closing for the last time, the dragon found his mind filled with one final thought: Father, wait for me. I will see you soon.
CHAPTER SIX
Alec stood on the deck, gripping the rail of the sleek black ship, and watched the sea, as he had been for days. He watched the giant waves roll in and out, lifting their small sailing ship, and watched the foam break below the hold as they cut through water with a speed unlike anything he had ever experienced. Their ship leaned as the sails were stiff with wind, the gales strong and steady. Alec studied it with a craftsman’s eyes, wondering what this ship was made of; clearly it was crafted of an unusual, sleek material, one he had never encountered before, and it had allowed them to maintain speed all day and night, and to maneuver in the dark past the Pandesian fleet, out of the Sea of Sorrow, and into the Sea of Tears.
As Alec reflected, he recalled what a harrowing journey it had been, a journey through days and nights, the sails never lowering, the long nights on the black sea filled with hostile sounds, of the ship’s creaking, and of exotic creatures jumping and flapping. More than once he had awakened to see a glowing snake trying to board the boat, only to watch the man he was sailing with kick it off with his boot.
Most mysterious of all, more so than any of the exotic sea life, was Sovos, the man at the helm of the ship. This man who had sought Alec out at the forge, who had brought him on this ship, who was taking him to some remote place, a man Alec wondered if he were crazy to trust. Thus far, at least, Sovos had already saved Alec’s life. Alec recalled looking back at the city of Ur as they were far out at sea, feeling agony, feeling helpless, as he witnessed the Pandesian fleet closing in. From the horizon, he had seen the cannonballs crack through the air, had heard the distant rumble, had seen the toppling of the great buildings, buildings which he himself had been inside but hours before. He had tried to get off the ship, to help them all, but by then, they had been too far away. He had insisted that Sovos turn around, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.
Alec teared up at the thought of all his friends back there, especially Marco and Dierdre. He closed his eyes and tried, to no avail, to shake away the memory. His chest tightened as he felt he had let them all down.
The only thing keeping Alec going, that shook him from his despondency, was the sense that he was needed elsewhere, as Sovos had insisted; that he had a certain destiny, that he could use it to help destroy the Pandesians somewhere else. After all, as Sovos had said, his dying back there with the rest of them would not have helped anyone. Still, he hoped and prayed that Marco and Dierdre had survived, and that he could still return in time to reunite with them.
So curious to know where they were going, Alec had peppered Sovos with questions, yet he had remained stubbornly silent, always at the helm night and day, his back to Alec. He never, as far as Alec could tell, even slept or ate. He just stood there watching the sea in his tall leather boots and black leather coat, his scarlet silks draped over his shoulder, wearing a cape with its curious insignia. With his short, brown beard and flashing green eyes that stared at the waves as if they were one with them, the mystery around him only deepened.
Alec stared out at the unusual Sea of Tears, with its light aqua color, and he felt overcome with an urgency to know where he was being taken. Unable to stand the silence any longer, he turned to Sovos, desperate for answers.
“Why me?” Alec asked, breaking the silence, trying yet again, determined this time for an answer. “Why choose me from that entire city? Why was I the one meant to survive? You could have saved a hundred people more important than me.”
Alec waited, but Sovos remained silent, his back to him, studying the sea.
Alec decided to try another route.
“Where are we going?” Alec asked yet again. “And how is this ship able to sail so fast? What is it made of?”
Alec watched the man’s back. Minutes passed.
Finally, the man shook his head, his back still turned.
“You are going where you are meant to go, where you are meant to be. I chose you because we need you, and no other.”
Alec wondered.
“Need me for what?” Alec pressed.
“To destroy Pandesia.”
“Why me?” Alec asked. “How can I possibly help?”
“All will be clear once we arrive,” Sovos replied.
“Arrive where?” Alec pressed, frustrated. “My friends are in Escalon. People I love. A girl.”
“I am sorry,” Sovos sighed, “but no one is left back there. All that you once knew and loved is gone.”
There came a long silence, and amidst the whistling of the wind, Alec prayed he was wrong—yet deep down he felt he was right. How could life change so quickly? he wondered.
“Yet you are alive,” Sovos continued, “and that is a very precious gift. Do not squander it. You can help many others, if you pass the test.”
Alec furrowed his brow.
“What test?” he asked.
Sovos finally turned and looked at him, his eyes piercing.
“If you are the one,” he said, “our cause will fall on your shoulders; if not, we shall have no use for you.”
Alec tried to understand.
“We’ve been sailing for days now and have gotten nowhere,” Alec observed. “Just deeper into the sea. I can’t even see Escalon anymore.”
The man smirked.
“And where do you think we’re going?” he asked.
Alec shrugged.
“It