Dragon War: Chapter 9
On the break for lunch, the conversation picked up again.
The past few hours, my mind had been alive with all the implications of what Solra had said to me. Now that we were lying against Zelkor and Ignimitra, scarfing down our dried meat during the short break from digging, I had the opportunity to ask my questions.
She seemed more open to answering them than before. The pain that had been in her eyes before had receded. It didn’t return when I broached the topic.
“Do you think he knows?” I asked her.
She paused mid-chew to think about my question. “I bet he does. He knows everything.” Then she added. “I’m surprised that he even let me into the Academy.”
I thought it over for a second. “He might have abandoned you at birth, but you’re still his daughter.” I wouldn’t get used to saying that any time soon. “You’re still his blood. Plus, once you’re bonded to a dragon, they don’t really have a choice but to let you in.” I knew that reality all too well.
“That doesn’t mean anything to a man like him,” she spat, the contempt evident in her voice. “The woman who bore his children is living in squalor, persecuted by a system that he works so hard to uphold.”
If I hadn’t been sure that the Headmaster was heartless before, I knew for sure now that Solra put it like that. But it wasn’t surprising.
My laugh was hollow. “He killed his teammates so he could become Headmaster, Solra. That kind of behavior seems pretty typical of him.”
Her eyes snapped to mine then. “Do you know that for sure now?”
I felt Ignimitra’s interest in our conversation, but she didn’t rebuke me like she usually did. Taking a deep breath, I sidled closer to Solra.
“Yes,” I whispered to her. “When Betheka died, she left me some of her journals. I didn’t get to read very many before the attack, but the ones I did read had some information about the days before my father’s death.”
Her eyes widened. “Like what?”
“For starters, my father’s promotion to Headmaster had been pushed back because of some anonymous allegations about his practices in the field. They were eventually trashed, but Betheka said she knew for sure that it was the Headmaster’s doing. He had been interim Headmaster while they worked on selecting a new one, and he didn’t want to part with the post.”
She hung on to my every word, and I took that as an invitation to continue.
It pained me to talk about, but this was the first time outside of my conversations with Ignimitra that I was able to say this out loud. Along with the pain, there was some relief to pass this information along.
“A few days before my father went on the mission, he and the Headmaster got into a spat. My father had been chosen as the new Headmaster, and would be promoted in the next week. The Headmaster apparently threatened to kill my mother and me if my father didn’t turn it down.”
“And he didn’t, did he?” She asked. I felt her hand around my shoulders.
I shook my head.
“He didn’t. Then, they went on that mission and everyone on their team died except the Headmaster. That’s no coincidence. Betheka’s journals said that there was some outrage around it, and he was investigated. But he was interim Headmaster, I doubt there was anybody brave enough to point fingers at him.”
Solra finished chewing her meat, her brain working on what I had just told her.
In her silence, I took a few bites of my own food. The taste was getting old fast.
“You know what baffles me?” she said. “I just can’t understand why he would go to such great lengths to get rid of your father. I get that he’s obsessed with power, but to kill for it, it seems extreme.”
Her words echoed a sentiment that sometimes kept me awake at nights. Betheka’s journals hadn’t answered that question for me either. “Betheka never really wrote about that. She only mentioned my father wanting to make changes about how the Dragon Guard worked, and how a few people really wanted him to be Headmaster so he could do all that.”
Solra squeezed my shoulders. “I wish your father was Headmaster now instead of mine.” She looked down at the ground. “The horrid training, the dragon testing, and now those wretched serums, it’s like he’s created this nasty reality that we can’t escape.”
I sighed. That feeling was all too familiar for me. It was often heavy on my heart.
“I wish he was too,” I said. “My father was brave enough to stand up to him. Now, no one is. Not even the Fire Drakken.”
Solra rolled her eyes. “For all the power they tell us about in school, he seems pretty weak to me.” Her words made me glad that we were out here in the middle of the Terragian forest. If overheard in Pyralis, she would have paid with her life.
“Yet here we are,” I gestured to the wooded land around us. “In the middle of enemy territory, doing what he wants us to do.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Solra’s voice was low.
“We don’t.” I nodded my head. But more and more, I wished we did. But how would I even go about escaping from a place like this? It seemed like I was doomed to dying—either in the field for Pyralis, or at the hands of the Headmaster for betraying Pyralis.
“It’s best we get back to work.”
That was my cue.
I stood and picked up my shovel, returning to the mission at hand. My conversation with Solra had given me much to think about, and I’m sure she felt the same.
My mind was alive with thoughts of my future. What would I do if I had a choice? Would I still choose to be a Dragon Guard soldier, or would I do something else?
THE SUN HAD DISAPPEARED behind the tree line when Solra and I finished digging the hole. Splotches of orange light peeked through the thickly wooded forest, bathing us in a golden light that looked too ethereal for the dirt that coated our skin.
Irikai and Egann had finished digging their channel as well, connecting it to the huge ditch that we had created.
All we had to do now was blow the makeshift dam that was stopping the water from flowing into the channel. Once that was done, the gurgling river would dry up to a mere trickle.
“Great work,” Irikai said, hoisting his shovel over his shoulder.
He and Egann had changed out of their uniforms. Their bare chests were smeared with dirt, much like how I imagined Solra and I looked.
But, were those ab muscles I saw on Irikai?
I kept my eyes glued to his face.
“Thanks!” Solra said as she sidled over to him, her shovel held similarly.
“We’d better get back to camp,” Egann said, his voice furtive. This was probably only the second time I had heard him speak, and his voice still didn’t match his look. I expected a much deeper voice for a man of his stature.
“He’s right,” I chimed in. “Vulknor and Lyle should be back soon from scouting the village.
We left shortly after, in a flurry of dragon wings.
WHEN WE ARRIVED, VULKNOR and Lyle were tending to their dragons.
They were still dressed like Terragi soldiers. They had traded their Dragon Guard uniforms for animal skin shirts and pants, with brown leather armor strapped to their chests and shins. The soldiers who had ambushed the Academy had been dressed similarly. So had the soldiers we had rescued Team 17 from.
Which set of Terragian soldiers did they clothes they wore belong to?
“Gather round,” Vulknor shouted, taking a seat on one of the stones at the center of our encampment.
From his tenor, it was a command.
Egann obeyed without a second thought, but I could see it in the eyes of Solra and Irikai that they had the same reservations I did. He wasn’t above us—I was the highest-ranking soldier here—he had no right to speak to us like that. My skin itched from the urge to knock him down a couple levels.
But we silently joined the circle that had formed.
Vulknor seemed thrilled with himself, he wore a wide smile. Lyle was less enthused, but his countenance was still more pleasant than I had ever seen. It had been years since he and I had shared a conversation. Did he still blame me for his brother’s death? If he did, that was pretty stupid, considering he was best friends with the son of the man who was actually responsible.
But wasn’t I best friends with his daughter? The abruptness of that realization forced me to focus on what Vulknor was saying, just to avoid thinking about that.
“The village is worse than what we were told,” Vulknor began, his voice low. “There are hundreds of soldiers there, and even some dragons.”
Lyle interjected then. “They seem to be training them rapidly for some grand attack. Much bigger than even the attack at the Academy.”
My throat grew dry at his words, flashbacks of that fateful morning filling my thoughts. They had already attacked the Academy, which meant that they were going for another target. Probably the Royal City.
“We have to burn it to the ground,” Vulknor said. “And quickly. The element of surprise is our only advantage. Once those Earth Dragons catch wind of us, we’ll be locked in a vicious battle.”
This sounded like we had bitten off more than we could chew. How had Intelligence been so wrong about this? Didn’t they say that we had thinned their numbers?
“How many dragons were there?” I asked, trying to quell my own fears. There were six of us—at most we could take ten dragons. Anymore and it would be a losing battle. There was no sea nearby to dilute their powers.
A flash of annoyance colored Vulknor’s features at my interruption, but he swallowed it.
“About four,” he said. “It seems like only the highest-ranking officers have dragons.” He began loosening his leather breastplate. “But we can handle four dragons, don’t you think?” My shoulders relaxed.
We had handled more than four just a few days ago.
Yet that battle had been different. We had only won because of our proximity to the water. But here, we were in the middle of a wooded land. Their wooded land.
“What’s your plan of attack?” Irikai spoke up. “You can’t possibly think cutting off their water supply is enough now that you know there are so many soldiers and dragons there.”
It might not have been the best way to ask the question, but it was a valid one.
Vulknor swatted him away. “Lyle and I were there,” he pointed to his platinum-haired friend. “We saw it. They have dragons, but their soldiers are uncoordinated. We will strike a few hours before dawn, when their sleep will be the deepest.”
I chewed my lip, mulling over his words.
I couldn’t help but think that Vulknor was rushing into this, and that if I had been team leader, I would have approached it differently. The element of surprise could only do so much. Team 17 hadn’t seen it, but the Earth Dragons who had attacked the Academy made missiles out of the earth. One well-placed shot could maim one of our dragons—or worse.
But we had already come this far—we had dug the channel and the huge pond, and they had scouted out the land—it only made sense to continue. But I would not be going in blind. There was too much at risk.
Picking up a twig from the ground, I got up and scoffed the earth that lay in the center of our circle till it was smooth.
Handing Vulknor the stick, I said: “Draw the outline of the village.”
“I’m the one in charge,” he retorted, grabbing it from me. “You don’t have to tell me what to do.” He was staring daggers into me with those poisonous green eyes.
“Are you going to draw the map or not?” Solra cut in, her hazel eyes filled with the same disdain.
In the waning sunlight, with their faces furrowed like this, I could see the similarities between them. They had the same defiant jaw and high cheekbones. Even their hairline was the same, though Vulknor’s was cleaner because of his close-cropped haircut.
My stomach sank a little at the realization.
I could tell there was an insult at the tip of Vulknor’s tongue, but he shelved it in favor of doing what we asked of him. Which was fortunate for him, because Solra looked as if she was ready to maul him.
The five of us watched as he drew boxes in the earth. A long line that stretched from one end of the map to the other seemed to be the river. Eventually, with periodic input from Lyle, his depiction of Vadhzo became intelligible.
It was a crescent-shaped settlement. The biggest structures were on either end of the settlement, with the smaller houses bunched together closest to the river. There were fields on either side of the river.
Much of their activity seemed centered around the river.
“We’ll split into two,” Vulknor began speaking again. “My team will approach the city from the east, yours from the west.” He drew lines in the dirt mimicking our flight path. “We’ll toast them up quickly.” When his eyes met my face there was a twinkling in them. “It shouldn’t take us more than ten minutes to burn them all to a crisp.”
He made death and suffering sound so cavalier. But what could I expect from I?
“Where do the dragons sleep?” Solra asked.
Lyle gestured to the two big circles Vulknor had drawn on either side of the river. “Right there. They sleep out in the open, right next to the river.”
“If we put our all into it, we can injure them before they realize what’s happening.”
We spent the rest of the evening discussing the plan. Vulknor and Lyle seemed wholly convinced. Was it because I hadn’t seen the village why I seemed so skeptical? The more we discussed it, the less sure I felt.
Eventually, I gave up on trying to feel better. I already had a multitude of conflicting feelings dealing with. Maybe it was the war itself that was my problem, and maybe I was still shaken up from the attack on the Academy.
After the plan was finalized, we shared another tasteless meal of dried meat and I took another uncomfortable shower. We only had a few hours to sleep before it was time to make our move.
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually miss charcoal, Ignimitra said.
I was inside my tent, staring up at the canvas ceiling. She was close-by, I could tell. I could almost see her through my mind’s eye, curled up around the tent.
Who would’ve thought this day would come, I chuckled. Are the food pellets that bad?
She snorted. They aren’t bad or good. There is no taste, nothing to enjoy. At least charcoal had a taste.
Sighing, I rolled on to my side to face her. When we get back to Tartaris, you’ll have charcoal. I was trying to be positive. We should be back in three days.
Ignimitra scoffed. Until we’re sent on another mission.
There was no comeback for that. I could feel what she did, and I knew what she was thinking. My beautiful dragon was growing tired of our life, and fast. Not like I could blame her. So was I.
The conversation ended there, but my mind stayed awake.