Page 56 of Daghel
And as I stare at her for a long moment, I see a glimpse of the queen that she will one day be, and a smile curls my lips with satisfaction. Good. Inclining my head to her, I give Driskal a silent command and he bursts into the air with a triumphant bellow.
It is time to head home.
Epilogue
DAGHEL
Peace falls over me as we fly over the mountains. The ice sings to me, mingling with the hum of the wyverns as the gathols fly freely all around me, sending an ancient power awakening and renewing as it rushes through my veins. I always favored this power and to feel it again brings me a greater feeling of bliss, but none of it compares to my wyva snug in my arms, her fur cloak wrapped around and our pup growing beneath my palm as my hand rests over her belly.
I sing to my pup and mate as I curl around them so that my cheek brushes Anya’s head, and I feel her smile against my neck. The ice and wind no longer chill her, and nightmares no longer plague her. This is just part of the peace I hoped for. I have even more dreams now, however. Greater ambitions than merely ruling as high sovereign over my mountains.
I wish to see my pup grow, whether wyvern or orc, to enjoy a happy mortal life as is fated for all my young. My mother had once warned me that there would only be two that I could bring into my immortality: my bonded and my mate, but in truth I am pleased to know that my young can enjoy the warmth and simplejoys of a mortal, if long-lived, existence and breed a great many others as time passes with its ancient crawl for beings such as us. I wish, too, for the clans to flourish as they once had in my youth before they became stained with corruption and the hunger of the ambitious.
I wish to see peace return, and with it the simple joy that belongs to life within the brutal cold landscape of our mountains. The risen cliffs of the Fang Peaks yield to the greater mountains, and these open up the monstrous Sonrana, Koronda, Veskula, and Bugura Mountains that form the interior of the great mountain chain that we call the Cold Mountains.
“Do you think we will be there soon?” my wyva sighs and I grunt softly in agreement.
“You will see it when it rises amongst the mountains. It is the most beautiful of places with great hearths and halls, and private quarters rising from its spires so that never is a wyvern banished away into far off rookeries but can still live in such simple comforts as they wish,”Driskal rumbles happily.“Of course, they have been vacant for hundreds of years, so consider it the gift of an opportunity to renovate.”
“Thanks,” she replies wryly as she snuggles into the fur of my cloak with a chuckle as Driskal’s cackle echoes merrily over the mountains. “It is beautiful, though,” she sighs.
“A beauty I will preserve forever, all for you,” I whisper as I brush a kiss to the top of her head. “These mountains are yours, my love.”
Anya shifts in my arms, turning slightly so that she can admire the mountains passing around us. Her sigh of happiness warms my heart as my gaze shifts once more to the embrace of my home. For, the interior mountains tower higher and broader, with peaks that pierce the clouds far above us as ancient glaciers sweep between them with large breaks of open land. It is ancient and seemingly endless and whispers a greeting to me, calling mehome as the Black Tower rises in the distance and the welcoming call of wyverns from the nearby clans greet us as we pass overhead.
Word travels fast. Durethikal has returned to the Cold Mountains with his bride. And the war for the clans has begun.
