Page 424 of Of Empires and Dust
Chapter 97
Lives Never Lived
26thDay of the Blood Moon
Salme – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom
Calen stoodin the fields beyond Salme’s walls, scratching at the scales that ran along the side of Valerys’s jaw, watching as the piles of Urak bodies still burned in the morning sun, black smoke billowing relentlessly.
Tivar and Avandeer stood beside him, along with Varthear. The elven Healers had spent the better part of the morning since the sun had risen tending to Varthear’s wounds. They had offered to do the same for Valerys and Avandeer, but Calen and Tivar had declined. The injured within the city were beyond count, and any wounds the two dragons had taken would heal with time.
In the distance, halfway between the city gates and where Calen stood, two riders moved towards them.
Valerys gave a low rumble and nudged Calen with his snout.
“Stay close,” Calen said, looking away from the burning piles and up into Valerys’s eyes. He patted the dragon’s snout, and Valerys purred. Valerys lifted his head and nudged Avandeer’s jaw before turning and lifting into the air. Both Avandeer and Varthear followed, shouts rising all about as the three dragons swept through the air towards the ocean.
“What are you thinking?” Tivar asked as they watched the three dragons.
“That if we’d not gone north, there would be a lot fewer graves here.” Calen looked over past Salme’s western walls, where the elves of Lunithír were burying bodies in their hundreds.
Closer, near a copse of trees, men and women lifted scores of bodies onto pyres. Even from a distance Calen knew those dead warriors were Belduarans, given to the flames as all Belduarans were.
From Tarmon’s early report, of the fourteen thousand who had marched to Salme’s aid, almost a third had perished in the battle. A more thorough count would come soon enough.Wars are not won. They are ended.Calen ran his hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh.
“And if we had not, every soul within Tarhelm would have perished. Coren and Aldryn would be dead. Choices cannot be viewed in hindsight. That path leads only to dark places.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “That is the burden of being a Draleid. It is seldom that any choice we make will not come at a price.”
Calen nodded but didn’t speak. He knew what Tivar said was true, but that didn’t help. The truth of things was seldom a comfort. These warriors had marched to war with his banner flying above them, and he had not been there. He stood by the decision he had made and knew it was a decision he would haveto make again. But that didn’t mean the guilt would ever leave his heart.
At that moment though, it was Dann and Rist that swirled in his mind. He knew he had to tell Dann what he had seen, but how and when? Their closest friend was alive. That was a thing he would cherish telling Dann. But the rest… that Rist had not only joined the Circle of Magii but actively killed in their name. Or that the man who was their brother by everything but blood had joined the army that murdered Calen’s parents and tortured Rist’s own. Or that it was Calen and Dann who had abandoned him to that fate… At that moment, the conversation would have been a selfish one, its only use to keep Calen from suffering with the knowledge alone. Dann needed to know and Calen would tell him, but these few days were for Ylinda. He could give Dann a few days.
“What you did in Aravell,” Tivar said, stepping closer and looking out of the burning fields. “Thank you. We’ve not had a moment to speak on it, but I wanted to say that.”
“I didn’t do it for you.” Calen looked from the Belduaran pyres to meet Tivar’s gaze. “I am thankful for everything you’ve done. You saved our lives when you came to our aid that night. And I truly believe you when you say you want to make things right, but I did it for them,” he said, pointing down at the city of Salme. “And for all the others who draw breath in these lands. I could never have faced the Dragonguard alone. Whatever rumours and stories spread, I am but one man and Valerys is but a single dragon. I still wish to rip Farda’s heart from his chest, but I will swallow that hate. If it means having you and Avandeer fighting at our side, I will bury my darkest desires, because that is what is required of me.”
Tivar’s breath misted into the morning air. “I am thankful nonetheless. And I will show that thanks in blood and loyalty. Where do we go from here?”
“While the army recovers, we will fly south to Valtara, and I will send word to Alleron Helmund in Drifaien. First we clear the South. Then we look north. But for now, we will go and light the Belduaran pyres, and we will say prayers over the graves of the dead, and we will mourn with the others. And tonight, we will join the celebration.”
“Celebration?”
“In the villages, we do not just mourn the loss of those who leave us, we celebrate their lives. Sometimes that is easier done than others. But tonight we not only celebrate those lives but the fact that the city still stands.”
Before Tivar could say another word, the two riders drew closer and crested the slope upon which he and Tivar stood.
“Haem?”
Haem had slipped from his saddle before the horse had even come to a stop, while Erdhardt sat on his steed with a wide grin.
Calen wrapped his arms around his brother, squeezing tight.
“I thought you might be here.” Haem pulled away and looked into Calen’s eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, little brother. We have searched for the Heart night and day.”
“Your Watchers found nothing amongst Alvira’s possessions then?”
Haem shook his head. “Not yet. They don’t sleep. They barely eat.”
Calen nodded slowly.
