A Time For Dragons

Chapter Seven -- Gerath

Unbound dragons wanted to connect with worthy Dragons of blood. Gerath heard his uncle's voice again, as he held Madara and blocked her view of Vhaeryn and the great black dragon. He glanced over his shoulder, Vhaeryn was on his knees but he was reaching out for the dragon, which was a good sign. A string unseen tethered his heart and things low inside him to both dragons. He knew it was best not to bond with a dragon if it was at all avoidable. He'd been given the honor of being tested by Rexxas in the flames as a boy, but he didn't emerge the same as he went in. Would it be the same with Vhaeryn? Would this strange dragon's wildness take and twist him?

Shutting his eyes he let out a soft breath, he didn't have time to think about that. He needed to get Madara somewhere safe and away from the other dragon.

"We should continue down the beach. He'll be fine." Even as he said it he could taste the lie, but it was more for her benefit than his. "The worst is over."

The dragon roared and Gerath glanced back again, finding Vhaeryn standing with his hand pressed to the creature's nose. One of those tethers released, but he was all too aware of the dragon down the beach now as his cousin pet his new dragon who skittered and cooed at his touch.

"I need to clean and wrap my foot," Madara spoke as she limped forward.

Nodding Gerath swept her up in his arms, he'd forgotten how light she was, how easy it'd always had been to hold her.

"How's your rib?" He asked, carrying her toward Vhaeryn who was whispering in Vaeldian to the dragon. As they neared he abruptly stopped causing Gerath to snort.

"It'll scar, but its mostly mended." Sadness tainted her words and he wanted to strip her down from her soggy clothes and kiss the wound to show her exactly how much it didn't matter. It wouldn't happen.

"That's good." He smiled weakly and stepped over the glass created by the bonding, stopping in front of his cousin. "You need to take her to the tower or whatever's left of it. She's wounded."

"As are you. Give her to me, I'll make certain she's safe."

Gerath bristled, and glanced at the dragon with its vivid blue eyes which shimmered in the moonlight before turning his attention back to Madara. He couldn't be petty she was right she needed to clean her foot and stay off it. He pressed her into Vhaeryn's arms, she was dozing already eyes glassy with sleep.

"I'm going to walk there."

"Why?" Vhaeryn's eyes narrowed. "We're dragons, we're meant to fly."

"Careful that dragon doesn't take you. Rexxas was tamed for hundreds of years before you bonded, no one has truly ridden this one. And unlike your sister this mount can throw its rider." An uglier smile than the one which curled Gerath's lips had never been seen before.

Vhaeryn smirked. "Your jealousy's showing."

Gerath didn't retort and instead walked for the castle, making the effort not to watch as the rough wind from the dragon's wings pushed against him. Down the beach the red fire of the other dragon continued to intermittently light the night. The screams grew muted, minus those strong few who clung to life. Sighing he watched all over again as he and Elisaer surfaced and a torrent of dragon fire cooked his friend. Revolutions and rebellions always had unintended casualties, and most of his life he'd watch men die while he survived. Never before had it been because of his blood, usually he was merely faster or more observant, something stung about surviving the fires when so many didn't.

Hours passed since he was in the water and still his shoes squished with each step. He felt it again, the pull of the unbound dragon, it was moving. Turning he faced the dragon who'd followed him, watching him from a short distance but not acting aggressive in the slightest. His whole life he'd been warned about Dragon's Madness, and the signs of being prone to it. He noticed them after bonding with Rexxas but told no one.

Andexians were known for their quick temper and having what some called the Dragon's Wrath, but the line was also prone to giving themselves over to their dragons. Dread Ghaeryth wasn't the only one in his line who'd charred a city to dust only the most well-known. During the War of Three Fires, Adaxxas Anedexian succumbed to the madness upon merely hearing rumors of his wife's infidelity. It made him unstoppable on the battlefield, but he raped all twelve of their children into her and kept her locked in a tower until she killed herself. Not even the death of Khaethygar took that rage away. Gerath knew what was inside of him, and as thoughts of Adaxxas and Ghaeryth and the others passed through his mind he wanted nothing to do with that dragon who eyed him from a far. He might win the war for his cousin, but he already knew the cost would be Madara and that was a price he wouldn't pay. He might never have her again, but he could keep her safe from him.

Behind him the dragon shattered, the loud guttural sound echoing through the dark. He turned and screamed at the great beast, letting out a roar of his own that caused the red dragon to jerk back with wide startled eyes. The dragon chirped and cooed at him as though it were trying to speak, Gerath turned his back on it and continued for the city gates.

Where the great gate used to be was nothing more than a charred mass of charcoal and soot covered blocks of melted stone. The damage was maybe a handful of months old, and continued through the whole city. Along the blackened and burnt out shop fronts were signs of just how fast everything happened. In the tavern mugs still sat on the tables beside plates of rotting food strewn with maggots. In the market the meats stalls were gone but the fruits and vegetables were rotted and the herbs molded. Here and there on the sides of building were voids in the char shaped like people.

Blood stained the cobble stones as he approached the palace. The walls of the white gate which once protected the Magistrix and Lord of Lyndaen from the common folk slumped over like a loose white lump of soft flesh. As he climbed over he caught traces of the silver from the old gate melted into the stone. Gerath glanced over his shoulder, the dragon still followed him, though it kept its distance.

Halfway up the steps leading to the palace he paused and looked at the dragon. Could he really give up such power? He passed his fingers through his pale locks as the dragon continued its timid approach. His feet were too heavy to carry on, like his body knew he had a decision to make before he reached the palace. Yes, chances were the dragon would still be there come morning, but that didn't mean it would make it any easier.

If he chose the dragon, he'd have to give up on Madara for good, but he'd fulfill his duty same as every member of House Andexian to House Caeraxan since its founding. The dragon waited at the bottom of the stairs with its head cocked to the side, its bright crimson scale shining in the moonlight like polished rubies. Hesitating he took a slow step down the steps.

Duty is love's headsman. He reached his hand out to the dragon and it roared as Gerath approached before rearing back and bathing him in dragon fire. The bruises sustained in the attack seared away with his clothes as he walked through the fire. Each step brought his mind back to Madara and all he gave up until his hand met with the dragon's snout and the fire ebbed away as power pulsed through him. Everything felt warm and right as he pressed his cheek to the dragon and it cooed at him. The scales were slick under his fingers as he stroked the dragon's long neck.

"Aeryxes," he whispered, speaking the dragon's name aloud as it cooed, nuzzling against him. He'd smoked the gold spices from Xesar, and not even it compared to the blissful euphoria that spiraled through his body. The only thing that came close at all was the memory of having Madara exhausted in his arms her body sweat-slick from love making and smelling of his scent.

Madara. He swallowed and looked at the dragon. Maybe he didn't have to give her up. He locked eyes with the dragon. He wouldn't be like them. No, he wouldn't give in he could have her, keep her safe and burn all those who stood in their path to victory.

The dragon threw back its great head and roared, shaking Gerath's insides even as he crawled on the dragon's back, hugging its neck as it took off, flying for the tall tower where the lone light flickered in the dark.