immutable words. Alight now. I must not tarry, for these Dragons who wait, know not the weakness of my third heart–its deep and abiding weakness for thee, Hualiama of Fra’anior. To know thee has been the highest privilege.
Lia alighted from his paw. May your soul take wing upon the eternal fires of the Dragonkind–dear friend.
Speak my name and be ignited, he replied.
The Dragon’s body began to slither past her with a majestic scraping of hide against stone. The lung-scorching heat suggested she must be so low down Ha’athior Island, the caldera was close. She should use the cover of his movement to find herself a place from which to observe unseen.
The Human girl crept alongside Amaryllion, angling for a curtain of long, trailing vegetation partially covering the tunnel from which the Ancient Dragon emerged. Mercy, in the twin-suns daylight, he was even more gigantic than she had imagined. But that was far from the only sight which launched her heart into the frantic pulsing of an overheated furnace engine. Dragons! It seemed every Dragon from a thousand leagues around must have gathered to honour Amaryllion’s passing on. They covered the cliffs of Ha’athior Island in a living blanket of Dragon hide. Hundreds soared on the thermals above, causing a twin-suns eclipse of the febrile morning air in which myriad Dragon eyes gleamed like living coals in the semidarkness.
She saw Green Dragons and Reds, Oranges and Yellows, and a hundred shades and variations of every colour, here an ultra-rare Grey Dragon and a family of Browns … and Sapphurion! Oh, flying ralti sheep! Hualiama shrank behind a boulder, wishing for Grandion’s concealing magic to supplement the solid rock and a veil of leafy vines.
Lia’s gaze dipped, only to light upon another wonder. A Dragon graveyard.
Who of the Humankind had ever laid eyes upon this sacred place? From above, much of the graveyard was shielded by a ledge protruding from Ha’athior Island’s flank. The ever-billowing smoke of Fra’anior’s fires shielded the caldera floor from view. Below the ledge, a cave bored into Ha’athior’s roots, gaping wide enough for a dozen Dragons to fly into side-by-side. A tingling of magic made pinpricks of multi-coloured light twinkle behind her eyes as Amaryllion’s onyx length crunched over a boneyard, a vast spill of white Dragon bones that lay at the cave’s base. This was the Natal Cave, she realised–the fabled resting-place of the First Eggs of the Dragonkind.
Still the Ancient Dragon’s body poured sinuously from the cave, shaking the Islands like an earthquake, until at last his mighty hindquarters and tail emerged. The Dragon slithered four-pawed down onto the caldera floor. Three-quarters of a mile of gleaming, Onyx Dragon was he, a living mountain. A legend in his own right. And she called this Dragon her friend?
A person’s soul must dissolve into a puddle of awe.
A rush of warmth from her belly presaged the realisation that the Dragons had fallen silent. Magic, thick and profound, curbed even the desire to breathe.
Her friend roared, I AM AMARYLLION FIREBORN, LAST OF THE ANCIENT DRAGONS! I AM … BEZALDIOR!
The Island-Cluster shuddered at the power of his spoken name. Fresh cracks snaked across the caldera floor. Lava fountains gushed upward, some exploding in sheets of fire hundreds of feet tall. Thunder pummelled the skies above. Lia knew that they must have felt this earthquake all the way over on the Human Island of Fra’anior, eighteen leagues distant.
The massed Dragons began to hum, a deep thrumming vibrating the air.
More softly, Amaryllion trumpeted, The age of the Ancients must end, my brethren. A new power shall rise in our stead. I leave thee the blessing of the Ancient Dragons, the sulphurous breath of the Great Dragon Himself.
He exhaled. It seemed to Hualiama that the Dragon’s entire body exhaled, for white-golden fire erupted from his body with the force of a volcanic explosion, three
Lia alighted from his paw. May your soul take wing upon the eternal fires of the Dragonkind–dear friend.
Speak my name and be ignited, he replied.
The Dragon’s body began to slither past her with a majestic scraping of hide against stone. The lung-scorching heat suggested she must be so low down Ha’athior Island, the caldera was close. She should use the cover of his movement to find herself a place from which to observe unseen.
The Human girl crept alongside Amaryllion, angling for a curtain of long, trailing vegetation partially covering the tunnel from which the Ancient Dragon emerged. Mercy, in the twin-suns daylight, he was even more gigantic than she had imagined. But that was far from the only sight which launched her heart into the frantic pulsing of an overheated furnace engine. Dragons! It seemed every Dragon from a thousand leagues around must have gathered to honour Amaryllion’s passing on. They covered the cliffs of Ha’athior Island in a living blanket of Dragon hide. Hundreds soared on the thermals above, causing a twin-suns eclipse of the febrile morning air in which myriad Dragon eyes gleamed like living coals in the semidarkness.
She saw Green Dragons and Reds, Oranges and Yellows, and a hundred shades and variations of every colour, here an ultra-rare Grey Dragon and a family of Browns … and Sapphurion! Oh, flying ralti sheep! Hualiama shrank behind a boulder, wishing for Grandion’s concealing magic to supplement the solid rock and a veil of leafy vines.
Lia’s gaze dipped, only to light upon another wonder. A Dragon graveyard.
Who of the Humankind had ever laid eyes upon this sacred place? From above, much of the graveyard was shielded by a ledge protruding from Ha’athior Island’s flank. The ever-billowing smoke of Fra’anior’s fires shielded the caldera floor from view. Below the ledge, a cave bored into Ha’athior’s roots, gaping wide enough for a dozen Dragons to fly into side-by-side. A tingling of magic made pinpricks of multi-coloured light twinkle behind her eyes as Amaryllion’s onyx length crunched over a boneyard, a vast spill of white Dragon bones that lay at the cave’s base. This was the Natal Cave, she realised–the fabled resting-place of the First Eggs of the Dragonkind.
Still the Ancient Dragon’s body poured sinuously from the cave, shaking the Islands like an earthquake, until at last his mighty hindquarters and tail emerged. The Dragon slithered four-pawed down onto the caldera floor. Three-quarters of a mile of gleaming, Onyx Dragon was he, a living mountain. A legend in his own right. And she called this Dragon her friend?
A person’s soul must dissolve into a puddle of awe.
A rush of warmth from her belly presaged the realisation that the Dragons had fallen silent. Magic, thick and profound, curbed even the desire to breathe.
Her friend roared, I AM AMARYLLION FIREBORN, LAST OF THE ANCIENT DRAGONS! I AM … BEZALDIOR!
The Island-Cluster shuddered at the power of his spoken name. Fresh cracks snaked across the caldera floor. Lava fountains gushed upward, some exploding in sheets of fire hundreds of feet tall. Thunder pummelled the skies above. Lia knew that they must have felt this earthquake all the way over on the Human Island of Fra’anior, eighteen leagues distant.
The massed Dragons began to hum, a deep thrumming vibrating the air.
More softly, Amaryllion trumpeted, The age of the Ancients must end, my brethren. A new power shall rise in our stead. I leave thee the blessing of the Ancient Dragons, the sulphurous breath of the Great Dragon Himself.
He exhaled. It seemed to Hualiama that the Dragon’s entire body exhaled, for white-golden fire erupted from his body with the force of a volcanic explosion, three
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