Chapter 5: The Sands

  Grains of sand stuck to Rasshun scales, burying him half under a dune, with only his nose and back sticking out. The scorching sun burned his eyes, drying them out. For once, could the sun simply hide its face?

  Elara lay beside him, her heart still thumping. Rasshun sighed in relief.

  Pain ripped through his chest. The length of wood stuck out of his shoulder, splintered and peeling, and blood welted around the wound’s base. An ache vibrated and pulsed underneath the surface, making his vision darken and gray along the edges. He growled.

  He needed metal.

  Rasshun lifted his nose to the air in search for any Ironglass, brass, copper, tin—anything. The air remained dry, devoid of life or energy, and bare of metal. He sighed.

  A trickling noise broke the silence, faint, gaining his attention.

  Water.

  The sound sent a thrill through him, a hope. Swiftly, Rasshun helped Elara onto his back. Her pale skin was reddened and dried, peeling in the heat. She needed water too. When she was secure, he headed for the base of the mountains.

  Fire waved through him with each step, shuddering his muscles and dulling his mind. He fought against the exhaustion, his eyelids dropping every other breath, only to shoot open again with each sharp pain that fired through his chest. He shook his head, rattling his brain and senses. He had to focus.

  Vultures followed him and Elara through the foothills, dark shapes circling in the haze above. None were foolish enough to leave. They knew he would fall eventually. He would drop, fight for a while, but then he would stop. Heat would sear him, and he would breathe his last, then they would have their feast…

  He stumbled, pain creeping up his spine.

  Rasshun growled. Stay awake.

  The valley sloped down, releasing Rasshun from his torment. Sand rolled down ahead of him into a valley of mud. At the center, fed by a short waterfall, a crystal pool of water gleamed in the sunlight.

  Rasshun slid down the hill with Elara on his back, scraping against the sand. He clawed to the edge of the stream, desperation grasping him, and dropped his muzzle into the crisp, cool water.

  The dryness in his mouth gave way to the refreshing waves. Life came back to him, the haze dying away, and the coolness tickled his throat, eating away the soreness. Sunlight danced across the waters, reflecting in his eyes. He slid into the pool, leaving Elara on the shoreline, and eased.

  The water embraced him, a soft, cold caress taking over his body. He fell limp, lying flat on the surface of the waves. Water rushed into his mouth, and his chest and tail thickened as he took in all that he needed. He purred softly and turned on his back to bask.

  All the dangers drifted away from him like grains of sand. Even the vultures and other, smelly creatures above disappeared when he closed his eyes hard enough. There, on the water, he could have floated all day without a thought…

  A groan from Elara brought Rasshun back to himself.

  The human coughed. She spun toward the shore and lapped the water into her mouth with her hands. She hacked up the excess along the shoreline, her cloak turning wet. Rasshun crawled out of the water, his body becoming heavy and his shoulder burning hot once again. He approached her just as she finished her animalistic frenzy.

  She fell back and stared at the sky. “How long was I out?”

  “Only a day,” Rasshun said.

  “Where are we?”

  “The Wastes.”

  Elara shut her eyes and let out a long, heavy sigh through her nose.

  “We’ll need to find a different way, then,” she said. She leaned forward with a grimace. “Before those—lizards—come down, of course.”

  Rasshun came closer, plopping down beside her. “Lizards?”

  She pointed to the creatures flying above. “Stormshards.”

  Memories flooded Rasshun’s head. His own, Father’s, and Mother’s. Stormshards. Not just the Metal, but the dragons. Smaller, sneakier cousins of Ironglass dragons, nimbler and pack driven. Yes, Rasshun remembered well. Father called Tasshun a Stormshard once for being rash. That put him in a fighting mood for several suns after. They were dragons in blood, but still so different from an Ironglass. A songbird compared to an eagle.

  Up, higher than the vultures, a group of seven Stormshards flew in circles, watching Rasshun and Elara with sharp, glowing eyes. If not for their slender tails trailing behind them, they looked only like dark, purple shapes. After a time, the Stormshards turned and headed for the mountains. The vultures stayed.

  Elara placed her hands on a rock to lift herself. Carefully, she anchored her left leg in the dirt and rose with a groan. Halfway to her feet, she cried out, her left foot twisting, and she fell forward and planted face-first into the mud.

  She wiped the dirt from her face. “Great Sun burn me!” she cursed, gripping her left leg. “Must’ve broken it…"

  Rasshun came closer. “Do you…”

  “Back off,” she lashed back.

  Grinding her teeth, Elara lifted herself into a sitting position. Rasshun stepped closer, ignoring the lingering pain in his shoulder. The grayness in his vision returned.

  “I could carry you,” he said.

  “You, carry me?” Elara asked, “Just give me a stick or something and I…”

  Rasshun stood over her. “We need to be quick. If we don’t move, we will die. Just hold onto me and we will cross the desert faster. Let me help.”

  Elara shook her head. “What about that injury? You’ll drop me in a few steps.”

  “I brought you here, haven’t I?”

  “And it should’ve killed you by now. Come here.”

  Rasshun’s muscles locked, and his nose automatically tested the air. His mind went ablaze, screaming for him to stop. Perhaps she wished to harm him further? Would she make the pain worse? Or…

  “Come on, Rass,” Elara said. She reached for him. “I’m not going to hurt you. I need you after all. We’re supposed to work together until we reach the mountains, remember? Unless you want us both to die out in this blasted desert, come here.”

  Rasshun approached Elara, hesitantly turning his shoulder toward her. The wound grew frigid, tendrils of pain racing through his chest. The wood stuck deep, cutting through muscles and tendon. Rasshun bit his tongue to relieve the pressure. Elara looked it over, handling it.

  “I’ll have to get this out first,” Elara said, “Hold still…”

  Closing his eyes, Rasshun anticipated the pain. Vibrations ran through the wood as Elara’s hands seized it. Cold and fiery pain grew. His muscles seized. His claws dug into the sand, and he bared his teeth.

  Then came the pull.

  Rasshun yelped. The cry echoed through the valley, running up the crags and scaring off the vultures above. He jumped back, dark blood pouring from his shoulder. Elara tossed the jagged piece of wood aside, crimson coating her hands, and rummaged through her bag.

  “Here, eat this.”

  Elara pulled the chunk of Ironglass from her bag, holding it out to Rasshun. The Metal reflected stars on the sand and rocks, gleaming in the sun, its darkness deep and infinite. He felt a pull toward it, his mouth drooling, but he couldn’t take it.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  He whimpered. “Weren’t you going to sell—?”

  “Shut up and eat it!”

  Elara shoved the Metal toward him and he took the chunk, bringing it up to his mouth.

  Ironglass touched his tongue. The taste sent an electrified shiver down his spine, then it ran up, down, and up his spine again. Rasshun snatched the Metal back, gripping it in his claws and huddling over it.

  A rush went through Rasshun, and he couldn’t stop. His body swelled with energy, filling his muscles and seizing his claws. Crunch. He gnawed pieces off the Metal, quickly swallowing so he could eat more. Everything turned gray, his thoughts faded away…

  Then, it was gone.

  Rasshun stared at his claws where the Ironglass had been. He licked the last particles from his claws, the adrenaline leaving his mind and his thoughts coming back. Elara watched from a distance, propped up on a boulder with her left leg at an awkward angle.

  She eyed him. “Done?”

  Rasshun sat down. Skin stitched over the forgotten wound, and scales had grown back, leaving him untouched. Good as new. Pain lingered but faded to nothing more than wisps in the back of his mind. He hardly believed it. He felt strong enough to carry a mountain on his back. “Uh—yes—where do we go now?” he asked, “Is there another pass?”

  Elara nodded. “There is, but it’s blocked by another settlement. We’ll have to sneak through like last time.”

  Rasshun licked the remaining dried blood off his shoulder, going deep into thought. If he went through another settlement like the Unker-yarda, there might not be the opportunity to escape again. Only the High Storm allowed his escape, and Rasshun was certain that it wouldn’t come back. What if the Fire Wheel captured him? Would they kill him?

  Would the Iron Wraith be there?

  Rasshun’s scales stood on end. He turned away.

  “No need for landships this time, though I suppose that is a positive for you,” Elara said, “Our way in will mostly be climbing. Another positive, heh? Should get moving then.”

  Elara lifted off the rock, limping. She stretched her left leg out, gently lowering it to the ground. She stood, and stumbled, her head thrown forward. Rasshun caught her.

  “Grab on,” he said.

  Elara hesitated, but Rasshun persisted. She reached for him, and he raised his back-spikes as handholds for her to take. Slowly, Rasshun started off, leading her up the rocky incline into the sandy foothills. He turned west on Elara’s order, heading along the mountain range.

  Why bring her along? What if she turns against you?

  Rasshun shook the questions from his mind, and let his instincts guide him as memories floated in:

  -

  Rasshun stood on the shelf, looking into the tunnel above. At any moment, Father would come through the flight-entrance, and Rasshun would be waiting for him, just as every evening. Father had been out longer and longer each day as of the past dozen suns. Rasshun wondered why.

  “Waiting for Father?” Tasshun’s voice echoed.

  Rasshun’s scales rose. Tasshun loomed in the shadows, curled around a stalagmite. His sharp eyes pierced the dark, two pale blue lanterns hanging in space, trained on Rasshun alone. His claws tapped on the stone, gleaming.

  “Father said not to fight me,” Rasshun said. He took a step back toward the ledge. If anything, Mother was there. She would save him if all else failed.

  “His words mean nothing,” Tasshun said, “Besides, that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Do you fool me?”

  “No,” Tasshun said, “I came to offer something.”

  Unwrapping his tail from the base, Tasshun lifted himself to the top of the stalagmite. His scent took on an utter glee, tickling Rasshun’s nose.

  “You are a wyrm, Rass, not even as an insult. It is what you are,” Tasshun began, “Without Father or Mother’s help, you would surely die out in the sands. Even if you survived that, once we are in the mountains, without the care of them, predators would feast on you.”

  “I could survive on my own…”

  “Not without a strong defender,” Tasshun continued, “So, I offer this: serve under me, as my brother and servant, and do as I say, and in return, I offer defense, food, and, eventually, mates. If you serve me, I will defend you.”

  A shock waved through Rasshun. He stepped toward the ledge. Tasshun, extending guidance? Offering the one thing he loathed more than anything, to help Rasshun? The offer sent a thrill through the young dragon, but he knew better. Tasshun was tricking him.

  Tasshun came down, standing level with Rasshun, just three strides ahead of him. “We would be brothers in full. Together. Standing as kin together. Just bow to me, and we can be partners!”

  Rasshun’s head dipped. He stopped himself.

  “Father wouldn’t like this…”

  Tasshun stood taller. “I don’t care about Father. He is old and weak, and he doesn’t understand our kind the way we do. Dragons fight, dragons survive, dragons thrive. Without bloodshed, there would be no dominance. No leaders. No training against men!” he growled, “Let him die, but let us thrive together. We are brothers, aren’t we?”

  Rasshun stared at Tasshun, his scales prickling as if he had slept on a pile of sand for too long. Perhaps he was just a wyrm. Perhaps he would never grow wings or breathe fire. Perhaps he would even die alone. But he would be the best wyrm in the world, just for Father.

  Rasshun rose, standing at Tasshun’s eye-level. “I won’t serve you, Tasshun,” he said, “I’m not a defenseless wyrm.”

  Tasshun hissed. His tail lashed around, and his scent grew unbearable. Rasshun jumped back, bracing himself for the inevitable attack.

  “Tasshun, stay away from your brother!” a voice boomed.

  Mother, keeping Rasshun’s sisters at bay with her tail, lifted herself up high enough to lean over the shelf with her neck. Tasshun fell back. His eyes widened and dilated.

  “You disappoint me, Tasshun,” Mother growled. Her voice grew grave, losing its singsong air. Rasshun shrunk. “I believed you would have learned by now. I thought you would have given up this reckless game. I even defended you from Father’s wrath! Now you speak poorly of him and I, and try to taint Rasshun as well? Go, before I bite the rest of that tail off!”

  Tasshun backed into the dark, his sharp eyes tainted with pain.

  “Mother—I…”

  “Go!”

  His eyes sharpened, pupils turned to knives.

  “I will be back!” he growled, “I will be stronger than any of you! I swear on my scales!”

  Tasshun slipped away, melding with the shadows. Mother watched him go, her claws scraping against stone. Rasshun sat down and let out a long-held sigh.

  “Tasshun intends to kill me, doesn’t he?” he asked.

  Mother let out a snort of smoke. “No,” she said, “Tasshun wishes to please Father, no matter what he claims, and to harm you or I is a disgrace in Father’s eyes. Tasshun’s instincts may guide him to kill, but they will hold him back as well.”

  “I don’t trust him, Mother. How can I trust someone like him?”

  “You are brothers.”

  “I don’t believe we are brothers, Mother. The way he speaks…”

  She ran her claws along his back, settling his spikes down. “If not brother, then nestmate. To trust, you must listen and understand, then fix your sight on a goal. ‘The rival of my goal is my friend if we share the same want in the end’, so a great dragon once said.”

  She touched her nose to Rasshun’s, exchanging scents. Rasshun shut his eyes, a warmth filling him and killing the worry gripping his chest. Mother spoke gently, as if handling eggshell: “Leave Tasshun be. Hope that he makes the right choice. If he comes with trust in his heart, let it grow, don’t bite it. There is hope still left in him, or anyone else you meet.”

  -

  Ahead, held in the embrace of the mountains, Al-Anyra awaited.

  A complex of towers and structures built up the mountainside, layering over one another. Bridges, ladders, and stairwells connected the platforms and towers, creating a mess of wood and rope that Rasshun couldn’t follow. The inner city built up the slope and valley between the mountainsides, a rippling wave of buildings, all glowing with sandstone and glasswork. Below, dozens of landships nestled under a cloak of smoke, docking and porting.

  At the top of the valley, a long metal wall stood between the ridges, blocking off the pass. Rasshun wondered what the Fire Wheel was doing, and why they blocked the way into the mountains. Did bandits or smugglers often come and go through those places? Or was something else waiting on the other side?

  He settled himself knowing that he would soon find out.

  Rasshun and Elara lay on top of a sand dune, south of the settlement. She fumbled with a splint on her leg, made from a gnarled stick and some ripped cloth from her cloak, growling to herself for tying it too tight.

  She let go of her splint with a sigh. “I can walk right in without question,” she said, “But you’ll be the hardest to get up there. You can climb, of course…”

  “Yes, why?”

  “That’s what you’ll need to do. That, and one other thing…”

  “What?”

  Elara dropped her hood and looked away from him. “You can climb most of the way, but—there’s a door. That gate. It’s heavily guarded by the Fire Wheel, so I’ll have to open the door quickly, otherwise—well, you get the idea.”

  Rasshun looked at the obstacles ahead. The sloped walls, the insurmountable towers, and the dark gate waited for him. He wondered how much strength it might take just to reach the top—his muscles burned already—and no matter how hard he climbed or how far he got, if Elara didn’t open the door—if she ran off without him…

  He would be a slave to the Fire Wheel.

  A shiver ran down his spine.

  Rasshun turned to Elara. He searched her eyes and tested her scent. What could she be hiding? What was she planning? Her face held no contradiction, and her scent remained as mysterious as ever. Her eyes remained sharp. Focused. Like Tasshun.

  “The rival of my goal is my friend if we share the same want in the end.”

  Rasshun shot up to his feet, releasing the air from his lungs in a sigh.

  Elara stared at Rasshun, bewilderment shining in her eyes as he pulled on a golden scale on his nose, twisting and turning until a sharp pain ran through his snout and the scale pulled free, leaving an empty space between his nostrils. Outstretching his upturned claws, he handed the scale to her.

  “I trust you, Elara.”

  The human stared at him, the scale lying in her hand. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came. Digging into her pocket, she produced her dice and tossed them into the sand. Her lips parted, teeth baring in that simple, amused way.

  The dots—six and six—added up to twelve.

  “Woo, luck is on our side this time!” she crowed. She swooped the dice up and leapt to her feet. “Here, take these…" She handed the dice to Rasshun.

  The dice shined black in the sun, the wood glowing like glass. They reeked of ash and a sharp tang Rasshun guessed to be mead. But it didn’t displease him. Rather, Rasshun liked the scent. He eyed them and took a step back.

  “Your dice? Why give them to me?” he asked.

  Elara shrugged, pushing the dice toward him again.

  “The same reason you gave me this scale,” she said, “Hold onto them until I open that door.”

  Rasshun stared at the dice for a moment, smelled them, then took them in his claws. Elara produced a little handheld sack hanging from a string and—with Rasshun’s acceptance—she put the sack around his neck and placed the dice in them. He ran his claws along the fabric, a strange warmth filling his chest.

  “Now, enough of this,” Elara said. She took a step on her right leg, grimacing in pain, but she still managed to grin. “Let’s get moving.”

  Rasshun’s tail swayed, energy filling his muscles. He halted himself. “How will you climb up the towers with your injury?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry, I have my ways.” She gave the knife on her belt a tap. “Just wait for me. You’ll be surprised for sure!”

  With that, Elara stumbled down the dune toward the settlement, dragging her right leg along. Her form disappeared in the heat rays of the sand, melding as though she had been nothing but a ghost. Rasshun’s muscles tensed.

  He clenched the dice in his claws and his scales settled.

  Once his prisoner, now his friend.

  Perhaps even after the goal has ended.