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Chapter 31 - Fort Squall

Fort Squall

Reyr flew hard against the eastern wind. It sang in his ears, whistling past him. He battled it with each downward sweep of his golden wings. His breath came in short gasps, searing his chest as if his own fire burned through him. His shoulder muscles screamed in pain, begging him to slow his pace, but he did not listen. He disciplined himself unfairly, pushing harder than ever before, because he could feel nothing but the wrenching cries of his own heart—the sadness he felt from losing Cyrus, the failure he felt from disappointing his king, the fear he felt for what was to come.

Beneath him the ground sailed past. He hardly noticed. His mind was too consumed with King Talon's disapproval. He blamed himself for everything. Before departing Kastali Dun in search of Cyrus, it was he who tried to dissuade Cyrus from going north. No one else had bothered, not the king, not any of his fellow Shields, only he, because he knew then that something was wrong, even if the others failed to sense it.

In the days following Cyrus's death, he often wondered, what if things had gone differently? Many alternatives crossed his mind, and each scenario resulted in a better outcome than the one he now faced.

This pattern of thinking was familiar to him. He did the same thing when Gemma had died. He asked similar questions. What if they never flew north to fight in the battle? What if he ignored the summons for the war? What if they left Dragonwall together, abandoned their honor, left duty behind, and lived only for themselves? She would still be with him. They would still be together. He would still be happy.

It was dangerous to dwell, and though he tried to free his mind of its burdens, it was impossible during the long flight to Fort Squall. What worried him most were his thoughts about Claire. His mind strayed to her as reprieve. Even in his dragon form he could not control himself, and although he was reluctant to admit it—he hated himself for it—he missed her presence upon his back. It reminded him of better times, happy times, when he would fly with Gemma. He should have loathed her for it, for renewing the pain he locked away after his mate's death, but he found it impossible.

He was relieved when far off in the distance, he beheld a fiery glow upon the horizon. The sun was dropping into the Dragonfire Sea, lighting her waters with hues of orange and red. And there sitting at the edge of Stormy Bay, was Fort Squall. Still miniature, perhaps as large as his tiniest claw, its battlements stood tall like a proud warrior. Courage blazed up within his heart.

Slowing his pace just a bit, he breathed a heavy sigh. Smoky tendrils curled from his nostrils. This felt like coming home—it always did. He knew every silhouette, every distinct feature, every tall tower rising up beside the city. Kastali Dun was his home now, but Squall's End and Fort Squall would always be his true home. The fort was in his blood. His fathers and forefathers held it for thousands of years, passing it from father to son. It could have been his, and would have been, had Gemma lived.

Dusk was upon him when his wings brought him close to the glittering city. And to his delight, joyous bugles rent the silent sky. The welcoming heralds of dragons surrounded him as the fort's Drengr swooped in to greet him.

"Welcome, Lord Reyr! Welcome home!" many cried.

Some were too young for him to recognize, others he recognized and knew by name. Many had been companions and friends during his time growing up in the fort. All were glad to see him.

"Reyr!" Davi's voice sounded in his mind. "You did not tell me you were coming! Welcome home, brother! I have missed you." His sentiments were the same, and he felt a pang of guilt for not having visited sooner. Far too often, he found himself caught up in the king's business.

Descending towards the torch-lit courtyard, his Drengr escorts followed close behind. Their Riders were all smiles, anticipating the happy evening to come. Every time he returned home, Davi insisted upon throwing a most lavish feast. He hadn't the heart to tell them—this time there would be no feast.

As he closed in on his destination, he shifted into his human form, landing perfectly on two feet. His Sverak jingled at his side, metal scabbard clanking against his belt. Davi was already strolling happily towards him from an adjacent corridor. Davi wasn't merely his brother, they were twins. Rare, but it happened.

They locked into an embrace while others watched, grinning to behold the happy moment. When they pulled apart, Davi clapped him on the back. "Next time, brother, do not wait so long to visit!" His eyes danced. "We will feast well tonight!" he said to those near enough to hear. In a quieter voice he added, "I heard about Cyrus. Are the rumors true? Is he really gone?"

Unable to voice such a devastating confirmation, he merely gave Davi a brief nod. Word traveled fast when the Drengr lent themselves to it. It was very likely that the sweep team he encountered before entering the forest had backtracked close enough to relay the news.

"And a human girl from beyond?" Davi whispered. "Is it true then?"

"Let us talk in private," he said. Davi agreed, escorting him to the fort leader chambers. The study they entered, which now belonged to Davi, had been used by their father during his younger days. The moment he entered, the familiarity brought memories flooding back. One in particular came to mind, the day he burst in to tell his father that Gemma had become his mate. His father's proud expression was one he would always cherish.

Davi took a seat comfortably behind the desk. The position suited him—though he would not have thought so in years past. He admired his brother for stepping up to the responsibility. Davi never anticipated this outcome. When they were younger, Davi often boasted that he and Emmy would fly off into the sunset. They were eager to explore distant lands and discover new peoples. How it must have killed them to settle down.

He took a seat opposite Davi. "I must be on my way shortly," he explained, hating his business-like tone.

Davi looked both surprised and disappointed. "You have only just arrived," he said. "Surely you can spare a little time. We are all tense. Many could use a bit of merrymaking." It was true. Even Davi looked worn and tired—much like how he felt.

"We certainly could," he said, sighing reluctantly. "But I must return to Jovari and Koldis. We must make haste to reach the capital." He paused to recall King Talon's words. The king mistrusted Claire. He seemed certain that she was guilty. This left him in a very tight position. At last he said, "The news is true. Cyrus is dead, and a young woman from beyond flies with us to Kastali Dun."

Davi's expression softened. "I had hoped to find the news false," he admitted. "Tell me, how did it happen?"

Reyr shook his head. He did not know. He hated not knowing. The sooner they got answers, the better. But would King Talon choose answers over his own selfish need for justice? "I wish I knew the cause with certainty. Poison seems likely. Alas, this woman is the key. She possesses the answers we seek." He proceeded to tell Davi of all that had happened since Cyrus's departure north. The fort leader listened quietly.

When his recounting reached Belnesse, Davi swore. "It cannot be true! The entire city is gone?" he cried, eyes wide.

"It's...gone."

Davi fell silent. Together, they sat in the dim light of his study. They said nothing in their mutual need for quiet consideration.

At last, Davi spoke. "So much death and destruction. Tell me of this Mikkin. You trust his word?"

"I trust it completely." He relayed everything Mikkin had told him. "I have no reason to believe ill of the man. I saw the burned city myself."

"Surely it was a mere cooking fire run astray."

"Cooking fire," he grunted. "If only. There were no survivors aside from Mikkin. This was no mere accident. It was intentional. Dragons live among us once more."

Davi dropped his head in his hands and groaned. "So rarely do our sweep teams venture that far north. There has never been much need to with the mountains protecting us like a barrier. It is the coast we focus on." Davi sighed deeply. "If what you say is true, then I have failed them. I have no one to blame but myself." It was difficult news to bear, especially for Fort Squall's leader. Those of his territory were Davi's responsibility. "How was I supposed to anticipate a wild dragon attack? Dragons are legend now, nothing more."

"So we thought..." He shook his head. He too struggled to accept the idea. "None of us could have anticipated this, brother. Blame yourself if you will, but it is a mistake any one of us could have made."

Davi flashed him a look of helplessness. "More than forty thousand years have passed without a single sighting," he said. "Do you know what this means?"

"It means that the days of old are coming back to haunt us. It means that if we do not do what is necessary, many will die."

Davi picked up a quill from his desk, twirling it between his fingers. When he next spoke, he continued to gaze absentmindedly at it. "The wild dragons banded together to burn Belnesse. Wild dragons never organize for a common cause—not since the days of Rage. What do they want?"

"I can only assume their desires are the same as before."

Davi looked up at him. "They have come back to claim ownership and dominion over Dragonwall?"

"So it would seem, unless we can think of a more likely purpose driving them."

"What does King Talon say?"

As far as Reyr knew, King Talon did not know. Wild Dragons were not discussed during their abrupt conversation. The news would likely come as a shock, especially considering everything else taking place within Dragonwall.

Davi read his mind. "With Gobelin raids to the east, Vodar sightings across our northern territories, and pirate attacks along the coast, dragons can mean only one thing. Our kingdom is close to war. You must tell him, Reyr. We must prepare our defenses."

He agreed. "You will do what needs to be done here, I presume?"

"Aye. Would you expect anything else?"

He shook his head. He trusted Davi's leadership to its fullest. He was about to say so when the door behind them burst open. They both turned to find Lady Emmy. She stood stock still, her face pale. The two of them rose, and for a moment they all fell silent, gazing upon each other.

Emmy was Davi's mate. She knew all that Davi knew. The minds of mates were melded, and it became clear to Reyr that Emmy's features mirrored everything Davi kept hidden. They were afraid for Fort Squall, afraid for their people, and afraid for their lives.

"Wild dragons brought nothing but death and destruction upon our people," she whispered from the doorway. "Our sole existence was to rid the world of them. You cannot possibly believe they are back." She looked at Davi, as if begging him for comfort where there was none.

Davi and Emmy had every right to be scared. They all did. Wild dragons had far less to lose compared with their Drengr cousins. It left his people at a disadvantage. The dragons had no riders to protect. They lacked the humanity that afforded better judgement. Everyone knew that dragons were bloodthirsty warmongers who thrived on death and destruction, though the bards would have people believe otherwise.

"They will feast on our undoing," Emmy said, walking forward as Davi took her into his arms. She was resilient—a perfect mate for his twin.

It did not take long for Davi to comfort her before they found themselves sitting and talking like they used to do, discussing strategy and trading news. Aside from everything else, the fort was doing well for itself. Even now, searches were underway to accommodate its need for support.

When they discovered his hunger, Emmy had serving staff bring meals up for them. He ate in a rush. "It is a shame you must go," she said. "Your nephew will be sore over it. He talks often of you."

"His search goes well, I take it?"

"Aye. Quite well." Davi was beaming as he discussed his beloved son. "Still no mate yet, but he is young. I am confident."

Reyr nodded. "He will find one. As you say, he is still very young."

At last, he took his leave, much to the disappointment of all, but he was too eager to return to his companions. The idea of them alone and exposed to the Vodar, should the wraiths return, left him uneasy. He especially disliked being away from Claire. He felt that it was his responsibility to look after her now. With her being many leagues away, he could hardly do so.

He flew all night, and well into the following day, trekking south. As it was before, the wind was not in his favor. At the end of the day, as the sun crept towards the horizon, Jovari reached out to him.

"We have made camp along the Flat River. There is a grove of trees south of Weldon. We will wait for you here."

Weldon. He knew of the town. "I should be there by nightfall. What of Claire? No problems while I was away?"

"Of course not. Claire is in good hands. After some time with her, we have decided that she isn't all that bad." Something in Jovari's tone was different. Had he finally warmed towards her?

With an extra burst of speed, he pushed himself onward. At last, after darkness had fallen, he spotted a small glowing campfire nestled amongst a grove of trees. Breathing a sigh of relief, he descended.

"Welcome," came the voices of Jovari and Koldis. He transformed before landing, surveying their camp. In truth, his gaze searched for one thing. It was only when he saw Claire sitting beside the fire looking serenely up at him, did he allow himself to relax. She was safe. They were all well.

"We've got stew," Claire said as she stirred a pot over the fire. Eagerly he went and took up a seat. He was just about to spoon some of the broth into his mouth when a familiar voice blasted into his mind. It was the king, and he was eager for news. 

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