Page 49 of Of Empires and Dust
Voranur howled and ran to his soulkin.
Pure, untempered fury surged through Eltoar from Helios, and the dragon hammered into Vyrmír, sending him careening back even further, wings tangling in themselves.
Three of the other elven dragons alighted beside Vyrmír, snapping and screeching at Helios, while the others lifted themselves into the air and circled.
Eltoar’s soulkin stood over Seleraine and unleashed a roar that shook through the earth, his crimson frills standing on end. Even outnumbering him four to one, the others hesitated. They were nothing but hatchlings in his shadow.
Eltoar rounded on Salara, who stood calmly with her hand resting on her sword pommel. “What happened to yourhonour?”
“I think you’ll find he attacked me first,Master.” Again, she emphasised the word, seeming to find joy in repeating it. “It is not my fault if your traitors cannot control their tempers.”
Salara stared over at Voranur, a look of disgust on her face. He had dropped to the ground beside Seleraine, hands crimson with the blood flowing through the broken scales as he tried to offer comfort. From where Eltoar stood, Seleraine would live, but the wound was deep.
“I can put her out of her misery,” Salara said, motioning to draw her blade as Vyrmír rose behind her, shaking off mud and rain.
Eltoar opened himself to the Spark, pulling threads of all five elemental strands into his body, and summoned his níthral. Tendrils of piercing blue light burst from his hand, coiling around each other until the light-wrought greatsword was fully formed.
Vyrmír unleashed a mighty roar over Salara’s head, his frills shaking, his wings spreading wide.
Eltoar didn’t allow his gaze to shift from Salara even for a second. “Take another step, and your soul will wander the void until time breaks. Do not test me.”
Salara waved her blade at Eltoar in much the way a mother might wag a finger at a child. As she did, the three circlingdragons dropped to the ground behind Helios, each roaring. The Spark thrummed in the air around the Draleid that sat astride the dragons. “Choose your next move carefully, Master. You might strike me down, but even the great Helios, the Black Sun, cannot stand against eight of his kin. I meant what I said. Today is not the day I kill you, not unless you force my hand.”
She turned her gaze from Voranur to Eltoar. “Do you know how hard it was for us to remain in Lynalion’s depths while you hunted your own kind like animals? Every passing day was agony. We are Draleid. It is not in our blood to stand by and do nothing, to let the world burn, to let the rivers run red. Each night I closed my eyes and lay there knowing that while I slept, you hunted my kin. We couldn’t take more of us in. Too many and you would have come looking. We needed you to think us dead. I hated myself for centuries while we waited and waited. If we emerged from Lynalion too early, it all would have been for nothing.”
“This isn’t the way, Salara.” Eltoar released his Soulblade, reaching out an open palm. “There are so few of us left.”
“Because of you!” Salara raised her sword at Eltoar, all semblance of calm vanishing. Vyrmír moved forwards, spittle flying as he roared like thunder, mirroring Salara’s movements. “I loved you. Iworshippedyou.” Her voice trembled, hand shaking as she held her blade. “And you brought us to this. You broke us. Why? Was it worth it? Did you get what you wanted?”
Eltoar once again found himself lost for words.
“I told myself I wouldn’t let you in. Told myself you would hold no sway over me, that I would be steel. But even after all this time, you still make me feel like a child.” She drew a breath, a steadiness returning to her voice. “It’s time you leave. From this day on, you will know what it is like to be hunted. I will kill you all, one by one, and I will burn your empire to the ground.”
Eltoar touched his hand to his breastplate, sensing the gemstone that hung around his neck beneath the steel. It had been a lifetime since he had tapped into Essence, since he had felt its power coursing through his veins. If he called on that power now, he could end everything there and then. None of them would leave this place alive. But as he stared at Salara, Tivar’s words from the temple at Dracaldryr spoke to him.
“He manipulates us, Eltoar. Can you not see it? Can you not feel how that stone twists and turns you? How it seeps into your mind.”
Eltoarhadfelt it… felt Efialtír’s touch stoking his fury, feeding his blood lust.
He looked around, seeing the elven dragons surround Helios, their frills raised, muscles tensed.
He rested his palm against the cold white steel of his breastplate, feeling the Essence pulse. All power came with a price, and Essence was no different.
“Do it.” Salara’s voice cut through the haze of Eltoar’s focus. “Call on your Blood Magic, just as you did back then. Your god’s moon hangs in the sky.” She gestured towards the crimson circle that had found a gap in the dark clouds. “But if you do, neither you nor your soulkin will leave this place. This earth will be your tomb, that much I promise you.”
Eltoar looked from Voranur to Seleraine and back to Salara. He could kill her, of that he had no doubt. But if he did, the others would fall on Helios and Seleraine in a heartbeat. They would never survive such an onslaught.
His mind flickered to Lyina, who waited at the camp near Elkenrim, her heart already broken from Pellenor. He could not leave her alone to face this storm. And then, there was the new Draleid: Calen Bryer. With his soulkin’s hatching, there was once again hope for the future, hope Eltoar had thought he’d all but destroyed… hope that needed to be protected.
Slowly, Eltoar pulled his hand from his breastplate and allowed the power of the Essence to fade from his mind. He took a step towards Salara, his gaze never leaving hers.
She didn’t move.
“You will know the pain soon.” Salara slid her blade into its scabbard, her stare unwavering. “Go, fly back to Lyina. Lick your wounds. And when I kill her and this traitor—” she gestured to Voranur, who was now coaxing Seleraine to her feet “—I will give you the courtesy you never gave me. I will let you mourn, let you weep. And then I will destroy this world you have stitched together from the carcass of the one you ripped apart. I will burn it to the ground, and I will kill everything and everyone your black heart still cares for.”
Eltoar stared into Salara’s eyes, then turned and walked towards Helios, the rain falling around him. Salara didn’t call after him, and neither did he speak. All the words worth saying had been spoken. She was right. Forgiveness was not within his reach. He didn’t deserve it, nor did he crave it. He had earned every word. He had made his choices, and he would face the consequences as he always had.
But that did not mean he would simply bend and break. Everything he had done had been to create a better world.
