CHAPTER SIX
Shatter
・✦・
Full moon,
Sun in the Northern Serpent,
Year 404,
Kreon's Era
・✦・
"...Yet you behave like an unbred fledgeling, barging into the temple premises unescorted, disturbing our peace?"
The Head Cleric's voice was calm and stern with the wisdom her tenure as the religious head had given her. There was an intensity in her greying blue eyes that forced Hess to drop his gaze and watch the pink canopy of the plum trees covering the mountainsides instead. The cliff outside Head Cleric's Chambers had a beautiful view of the several lakes scattered across the vales, their surfaces shining with the reflected sunlight like human mirrors.
Hess cleared his throat and began, "My apologies, Head Cleric, but it appeared that my humans were misplaced. The Carnelians visiting us today have a rather peculiar taste and consider humans to be delicacies, temple grown ones nonetheless. Surely, my outburst at not seeing my humans was a justified response."
"The Temple remains a sanctuary to all those who need its protection. Your humans had asked for protection and you had requested they be taken care of till your return, you were promised their safety. And to think that we would go back on our word and taint the vow we took before the First Light," said the Head Cleric, her voice placid as the lakes downhill. "Where is this mistrust of yours coming from, hatchling, weren't you raised in this very Temple?"
Like all clerics of the Order of the First Light, her fair hide was decorated with golden constellation patterns. The Head Cleric had the twenty stars of the Human Hunter constellation painted in gold onto her chest with its real life depiction outlined in silver around it. Her horns and spikes had been reduced to stubs by ceremonial filing making her look more like a feathered snake than a dragon.
Hess knew she was right, she had always been more of a governess to their brood than a religious head, even stepping in to feed and groom them in the place of their exhausted mother. He remained silent for some time, his eyes following the southward bound flock of migrating herons.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Head Cleric, I don't trust the power she has over you. The Crown has always made the Temple bend to its will for matters far more pressing than a trivial meal of humans. Perhaps when the new era comes, the Temple would be free from imperial influence."
The Head Cleric's sigh came out in the form of a white puff. The sun was lowering itself towards the west, presenting a pleasant afternoon to the earth.
"Those of the faith are freed by the First Light's grace, hatchling and not by the bloodbath you and your brethren have in mind."
"Bloodbath?" Hess repeated and shook his head. Phlegm plugged his throat for a moment. "You're quite mistaken, Head Cleric."
"Oh, am I? Let me rephrase that; your brother plans a peaceful usurpance of the Crown that may or may not result in several casualties." There was no humour in those lips when she finished, just her seriousness stretching them taut over her fangs.
Hess' reply was prompt, "You stand in an empire forged through conquest, Head Cleric, blood has always been the price to pay. We are ready to shed ours if it means rejuvenation for Korallion, if it means rebirth into an empire that can fulfil its promises of food, shelter, peace and happiness to its citizens."
"The Empire has had three hundred years of peace, Hesperion, it does not have to see a war to sate your brother's ego."
"Ego?" His voice dropped as he leaned forward. "Is exercising his right to the throne as the Imperator's first-hatched sating his ego? Is reclaiming a right lost through dirty trickery sating his ego? Even the ants that till the mud inherit their share of honour from their fathers. The Imperator is no longer the invincible conqueror he once was. And as his fangs grow blunt, her clan grows brazen."
"Aleunor or Hellebor, the land suffers the losses. There are families outside your tightly organised clans- outcasts, orphans, unclaimed bastards, those of mixed heritage who would suffer when caught in the middle of your little civil war, Hesperion."
"Nature favours the strong, Madam Cleric, fetuses who cannot break the shell drown within the egg. The survival of the fittest, the Thalassine Archives call it," Hess stated. "If they fall during the takeover, let them perish. Let the forest fire burn away the creeper strangled trees, what rises from the ashes would be unbreakable."
The Head Cleric's eyes softened, giving him the look he had seen many times, a sadness tinted with disappointment. Hess looked away, determined to not let it melt his resolve. Fangs, claws and talons were made to rip and tear, not to make peace with Hellebor savages. The clergy has always stayed pacifist, useless to do anything but watch the political drama unfold. He knew she wouldn't intervene- she hadn't stepped in when his mother was deposed, she didn't crush the rumors about his heritage, she hadn't lifted a talon when he was dragged by Gleyssier to the battlefront he was just a fledgeling.
The blue scar branding his lower jaw stung. The wyvern soldier's talons had never left his flesh since the confrontation and they tore in with newfound fury each time someone mentioned the war with the wyverns. Thousands of naive fledgelings had to suffer and rot on wyvern land, all for an unnecessary show of power by the Hellebors and his father.
He was one of them, he was a fledgeling who had just learnt how to fly dragged into an impossible war by an adult dragon.
She wasn't there for him, she never was.
"What did you want, hatchling?" the Head Cleric asked, closing her eyes and facing the setting sun.
"There is a plot of land in Barrow near the First Crown in my territory that is Temple property. If I could clear the area and move my humans there..."
"You mean the debris and the materials from the Temple reconstruction. It would be difficult for your humans to start a village there, we have moved two of our sacred walls there for storage till the West Wing has been redesigned. And the territory near it is Caelior land, so you cannot trespass."
She paused for what felt like a decade.
"How many do you plan to accommodate?"
"They're only eight two in number, quite a small community. I will keep their numbers in check, see that they don't overrun."
He waited, ticking away time with each flick of her tail as she pondered on the request.
"You may take the land-"
Hesperion let out a sigh of relief.
"I wasn't finished, hatchling," the Head Cleric cut in with an iron glare, wiping the joy off his maw.
"You may take the land and begin relocating your humans, but in return, you will have to run me an errand."
His tail tip curved upwards like a young sprout in equal parts surprise and curiosity. "What can I help you with, Head Cleric?"
The Head Cleric stared at the horizon up ahead.
"Since you'll be near her territory, I want you to summon Ianara Livia Caelior I for me."
The first name didn't feel familiar to him. "I didn't know that the Caelior Matriarch had daughters."
"Ianara is Livia's only daughter. She would lead the Caeliors one day with pride, Aleunor and what a fine matriarch she would be," she said, turning to grace him with a look. Her expression and body language left a lot unsaid. "That would be all, Hesperion, you may leave. Quersis guide you."
Something kept nipping at Hess's mind as he bowed and took his leave from the Head Cleric.
She either knows about my alliance with the Caeliors or she's trying to lure me into courting that Ianara dragon.
Either of those would mean that she's trying to sabotage my plans.
The sun was setting by the time he was dismissed and the humans had settled down for the day. They sat by the waterfall's basin, braiding hairs or weaving baskets from the reeds that grew on its banks. Their hatchlings were playing a game he just recently learned the rules of under the shade of the plum trees, screaming and howling. He looked at them and at the corridor leading outside. Their game would have to wait until he had their homes ready.
・✦・
The nipping in his head only grew stronger as he glided across the Two Crowns to reach Barrow. Rich conifer forests carpeted the lower ranges and the air above them smelled of pines and wildflowers. Herds of deer nibbling on the newborn grass looked up and scattered as he flew past them. A gryphon ambushed an unfortunate moose through the shadowy woods and tainted the pine scent with that of fresh blood. His left nostril twitched as he left the scent behind him.
Barrow was a comfortable spot for any dragon to settle down. The brooks born in the First Crown would give them freshwater and the Bay would give them their fish and salt. The forests had plenty of game and had a hoard of fruit bearing trees and berries.
Not bad, he confirmed his observations as he swooped down and landed on a gentle, grassy plain dotted with lime trees and oaks. It had a slope facing the sea and a beach of black sand that glittered in the setting sun.
Hess walked into the woods covering the northern edges of the plain and found to his delight that the storage cave was barely twenty paces away. The marble busts of several saints of the Order glared at him through moss covered brows. The scattered statues had nests, ant hills and termite mounts built onto their flanks. A short while later he discovered a gryphon feeding her newborn litter beneath the wings of a headless matriarch. The gryphon growled at him as he peeked underneath, fluffing up her feathery crest and drawing out her talons from their pads. Hess quickly darted his eyes around the space, pretending to not have noticed the gryphon and pulled his head back out. The growling died down behind him much to his relief.
That was close, he thought as he trod through the grass and creepers and looked over his folded wings. I'll have to warn my humans before they end up being her dinner.
The Caelior heir's scent hung faintly in the sea breeze ruffling the leaves of the oaks and the birches above his head. It clung on adamantly to the roof of his nose, making him sick to his stomach. The last time he had smelt Caelior scent that intense was on that goddess-forsaken plateau where the wyverns...he quickly pushed the thoughts away with a shake of his mane scales. The weather was growing cooler as evening fell, perfect for long strolls through deep woods. He watched the particles dancing in the sunbeams and let his mind free to play amongst them. For moment, he was that hatchling again, the one who always got into trouble for running off on his own adventures. He was himself.
A shrill cry shattered the silence of the forest. Hess nearly jumped out of his skin in shock, his heart hammered against his ribcage. Caelior scent mingled with the scent of blood bringing back the worst of his memories. The war field grew crystal clear in his mind's eye like it was only yesterday that he had...
No, get a hold of yourself, he thought, shaking his head.
Right then, Ianara Caelior I emerged onto his path with the crackle of fallen twigs under her talons. The bleeding gryphon carcass hanging from her maw left a trail of blood behind her. Hess narrowed his eyes, flared his mane scales, bared his fangs and backed away slowly. The Caelior heir looked mildly shocked at seeing him there. The dragon was quick to drop her meal and assume a fighting stance.
"Ianara Caelior, I presume," Hess said.
"What are you doing in my territory?" she hissed as she swayed her head from side to side, flashing her bloodstained teeth at him. Her muzzle and silver manescales had turned a dull brown from her hunt, her rich teal eyes reminded him of Carnelian lagoons.
"I'm standing on my territory, Caelior," Hess said bobbing his head in response to her threat, trying to dissuade her from a fight. "And I can see that you've helped yourself to my game already."
The dragon stopped the swaying movements of her head and decided to mimic his head bobbing. The surrender came rather quick, making him wonder if Ianara had come into his land on purpose.
"Your borders are growing fainter Aleunor, it's getting difficult to tell."
"Hmm," said Hess. She was right, he hadn't marked this territory in a few years. "You've got more than enough ground to the north to hunt and yet it seems that you love dancing so dangerously close to mine."
Ianara shook her mane scales, let out a trill and laughed. She placed her palm on the gryphon's bashed head, tapping its skull with her talons.
"You're quite irresponsible for a landowner. You almost let the gryphons rid the area of the deer. I just had to step in as a concerned neighbour, hope you didn't mind," she said, cocking her head.
"The Head Cleric has summoned you to the temple."
"Has she now? I wonder why."
"That's for you to find out. Good day, Caelior."
Hess simply turned around and walked towards the storage cave. He didn't need to continue the conversation and entertain her presence on his land anymore if he respected himself. Sure, he did need Caelior grace for his war against the Hellebors but that grace came from her mother the Matriarch, not her. Ianara looked like she was Maestral's age and no dragon would ever be given the responsibility of heading a clan at a naive two hundred and seventy. Cutting her short would only save him energy and time.
His footsteps made a rhythmic crackle of twigs and dead leaves repeating the same quartet. He heard Ianara growl behind him and drag the carcass into her land, eager finish her meal before her long journey to Mons Sterne.
Hess sucked his breath in as he came to a halt before the two walls from the Temple. They were more of large stone tablets carved out from the much larger rock structures holding up the temple. Hess ran the rounded ends of his fingers down the acid chewed edges of the pieces. He wondered how many dragons it must have taken to get the heavy stone tablet to the cave. Exhaustion must have made the builders careless enough to leave them outside at the mercy of the weather.
The edict from the Imperator's room of the temple had lost its mountains and dragon couple but not its star dragon. A torrent of memories broke free within his mind as his eyes scanned its chipped details. He was young when he had tried to visit his father and was almost killed twice within the timespan of a few hours. He couldn't remember the faces of the guard dragon or the fire dragon who had tried to kill him, but the memories of the crushing palm on his chest and the heat of the fire breath were still fresh.
There was one foggy memory that still haunted him, one that he couldn't exactly place as a dream or as reality.
Star dragon, he thought again. No, aether dragon. The word the assassin used was aether dragon. Aether's just the air filling the height at which which no dragons can fly without losing their consciousness a few heartbeats in and plummeting to the ground. It's an archaic term. Why did the assassin say that? Was she sent by the Archives? Or was she a disgraced noble?
He let out a plume of frozen air from his muzzle.
The wall seemed so worn that Hess couldn't help but pity it. He could barely read the runes or the hyms etched on.
What if I resculpted it? He thought to himself. Maybe that would get the Head Cleric to comply easily the next time I ask her for something. Maybe restore her trust in me, trick her into thinking that I haven't left the Order yet. An absolution of my sins. Even if she doesn't bend, I'm sure it would make a few other apex decision makers at the Temple much more pliable for our purpose.
Hess raised his right palm and looked at his talons glinting in the sunlight.
These hands and muzzle are more than capable of carving it out. I'd say that the original was lost to the snow and that the new one was me trying to salvage what was left of it.
The cave's rock walls proved to be a fine surface for him to copy the wall's design onto with the rough scratches of his talons. The sketch was mostly a faithful reproduction; he was rather good at those, in fact his ability to scratch out most things with disarming accuracy had earned him quite the fame at the Archives.
Once he was done, Hess walked out into the clearing, stopped before the wall and yawned to stretch his jaw muscles. His breath organ bubbled within his neck, filled with a potent mixture of ice-birthing fluid and elemental magic. Hess inhaled sharply, steadied his head and then exhaled the air out while releasing the fluid in his breath organ. His hard palate throbbed with power of the blast of ice gushing out of his muzzle and crashing into the the stone wall.
Hess had counted fifteen heartbeats when the first crack of the stone fell on his ears and within the next few heartbeats, the star dragon wall was reduced to a mount of jagged sandstones.
Such fragility, he thought.
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