Heart of Flame

XXVII. The Child of Sorcery

Sorne splashed water on her face, taken from the nearby stream in a bowl. She caught sight of her face in the reflection. She hadn't given much thought to what she looked like when she was in Mauléon, since she normally only caught a glimpse in the silver she was shining or the bucket when she was scrubbing floors, though those memories were so far away now that she almost felt that they belonged to some other woman.

Except for the nightmares.

They'd faded over the course of her time in Ash Kordh, of course. It had been more than ten years since she arrived in orcish lands. Possibly more than thirteen, not that she'd stopped to count. Still, every so often came a night that ended with the smell of charring flesh and a girl screaming in her ears. Perhaps it was simply a factor of change over time, but the voice no longer sounded like her own even if the pain very much was.

The human sighed as she shook the water off her scarred hands. "Too quiet," she muttered. "Shame those raiders went down so easy. A lot of run for not much of a fight."

Vridash was sorting through the arrows he'd recovered off the bodies of the dead. They'd caught up with the Talinese raiders not far away from Murdak's hunting camp. She might have left them for Murdak to encounter, but she'd been tracking them for a week and it had become something of a grudge. "Can't expect a real fight from these fancy fools," the archer said. He was chewing on a blade of grass as he checked arrowheads and tested the shafts to make certain they were still sturdy enough to be used again. "If you want, you might be able to chuck a rock at Ice-Fang and get a real fight going."

Áshildr shook her head slightly. "You jest, but there is truth to the problem. A good steel requires a furnace to forge, not a candle. We are battle-hardened, yes, but I am not certain that we are hardened together. Had we more time, I would suggest provoking Genev or Talin into a true campaign rather than the occasional brigands or renegades hunting the border."

"They were a long way from the border," Sorne said, sitting down next to Vridash. She reached back behind her, stroking Nirsal's nose. She shook her head slightly. "Something is different. Usually there's been at least one attempt up into Ash Kordh by this time of year. Why aren't they pushing?"

There was a roar overhead and a dark shape flashed above. Sorne wasn't worried, at least until she heard a second roar that did not belong to Nirsal. "Sor-" Vridash started to say.

The human jumped up and immediately started Khashin, weaving it with Unshiir and then locking without stopping to think. She sprinted after her dragon, Vridash and Áshildr struggling to keep pace at her heels. "Nirsal!" Sorne shouted as she saw the second dragon incoming. There was no way she could keep pace with Nirsal on wing, even with magic pouring through her body. Maybe it was nothing to worry about, just a male coming in to flirt, but this wasn't Nirsal's usual territory and another dragon could have taken exception to the visitor. The two of them were racing towards each other and Sorne was certain there was about to be a collision. She'd never seen Nirsal fight any other dragon, but she had seen two males tussling it out in the sky before. The difference was that drakes fought until there was a winner and queens fought until there was a survivor, if her forays into the lore were any indication of draconic nature.

There was a lot of roaring, but no deadly contact. Instead, the dragons buffeted each other and wrestled in the sky before dropping each other. It looked like dominance play, which was strange to see in a full-grown queen. Sorne didn't quite understand what was going on as she looked up at the two, skidding to a halt in a clearing. She shouted for Nirsal and waved her arms. The dragon wouldn't hear her voice from so far away, but they had incredible vision and were attuned to things on the ground. Granted, it might make her look like food to the other dragon, but Sorne was pretty confident that a drake would choke on her. Possibly literally.