Daughter of the Dragon

Chapter 24: The Champion (NEW)

Valant waited for the perfect moment to release the reserve. The enemy's left was in trouble, relentlessly pushed back by silver-clad Knights fighting on foot with lances and shields. It was time. Dalan nodded to the color sergeant. The sun-and-dragon standard was lifted high, and the four hundred gold-cloaked knights of the reserve spurred their heavy warhorses forward and over the edge of the reverse slope. Slowly at first, then faster and faster as they crested the top and started flowing downhill. A final spurt of speed and they struck the gap between the enemy center and the retreating flank like a thunderbolt.

The color sergeant turned to face his commander, banner pole pointing unwaveringly at the sky. "Listen to me, Valant," the man's slow, rasping voice cut through the din of battle. "What you are experiencing is not real. It is a fragment, the shadow of a memory belonging to another. The battle you see was fought—and won—fifteen hundred years ago. It took place in the fields around Stelmond. They even erected a stele there after the war. The one you found in the river, remember?"

Valant hesitated. The sergeant was acting out of place, but the name 'Stelmond' had a familiar ring to it. Valant should know what it meant, but he couldn't. And what was this about finding a stone in the river? Was this a trick of the Shadow, trying to distract him at a crucial point in the battle? Valant looked around, looking for signs of enemy mages or spies. But no, nothing was amiss. The color sergeant was there, banner fluttering overhead. Belfalass was as eager as ever, ready to take to the sky. And the Brazen were assembled to the rear, ready to strike the final blow.

A beautiful young woman in a green dress, blonde hair streaming beneath a golden circlet, walked through the wildflower meadow. She stopped next to the great dragon, stroking its muzzle. "Come back to me, Valant," she said, smiling.

"Darya?" What was the Alderman's daughter doing here in the middle of a battle? Shouldn't she be fetching water? The soldiers would need water, and lots of it, after fighting under the midsummer sun for hours. And why did she carry a dragonbone bow? There were no dragonbone bows in Stelmond.

Another woman, darkly beautiful and wearing a sky-blue dress, joined Darya by Belfalass' side. The dragon didn't seem to mind her presence, nuzzling its silvery snout against her chest.

"Meika?" The healer's daughter, here? But why was she dressed like a princess? She even had a tiara set with sapphires on her beautiful head and a neckline so scandalous it made Valant's heart skip a beat.

"The stele, Valant. Remember the stele," Meika said.

Valant remembered. A black stone with golden runes, broken in half. Half buried, half underwater. Cold and slippery, like a trout.

"Focus!" the color sergeant demanded.

"I'm trying!" Valant shouted from atop Belfalass.

"Remember who you are: Valant, the Orphan of Stelmond, not Dalan, Warlord of Light. Focus!" The sergeant let go of the standard. It remained upright for a moment, but then the wind caught it, sending it tumbling to the ground.

"The banner—" Valant began but was cut short by Belfalass' deafening roar, then he was thrown from the saddle, and everything went black.

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Valant was on his back in the manor's courtyard, staring up at the blue summer sky framed by walls and towers. The sun was well past zenith but still burned fiercely. A few whispy clouds slowly drifted from rooftop to rooftop. "It's not working," Valant declared, still on the ground. "This is the fifth time today, and I still need just as much help breaking free."

He popped up on one elbow and looked at the girls, Meika in blue and Darya in green, just like in the dream. They were less regal-looking in life, modestly dressed and without jewels, but still a beautiful sight in the summer sun.