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  A Kingdom Scorched

  Linn Tesli

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2018 by Linn Tesli

  This novel is entirely the work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons or creatures, living, dead, reincarnated, undead, or otherwise, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-82-93420-15-6

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  For my friends

  May your days be filled with wonders, and may the spirit of magic touch your soul in any and all events of life.

  Contents

  1. THE FALL OF DRAGONS

  2. THE AWAKENING

  3. PRINCE OF FIRE

  4. HALF BREED

  5. MADNESS

  6. INHERITANCE

  7. LEGACY

  8. A HISTORY OF DRAGONS

  9. A HISTORY OF EARTH

  10. ENEMIES ALIGN

  11. DEATH OF A QUEEN

  12. FIRE BORN

  13. FIRE AND ASH

  14. HAUNTED

  15. NIGHT MARA

  16. DEAD RISING

  17. ELFEN LYCONIS

  18. SUMMONING A DRAGON

  19. DRAGON´S DEN

  20. PREY

  21. PEARL

  Thank you for reading!

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  1

  THE FALL OF DRAGONS

  Over a millennium past

  - Rhonja -

  “Your dragon is out of control, Vaedex.” Queen Georganna put her palms flat on the marble table in the council room.

  “He’s confused. It will pass.” Vaedex crossed his arms over his chest.

  “And if it does not?”

  Beams of moonlight twinkled through the arched windows, reflecting off the black armor of the Êblazons standing guard by the doorways and darting off the white marble of the walls. Rhonja massaged her temples. It was hard to believe that half of Lycobris was currently on fire. Still, the emotions of her fellow Elementals weighed on her, almost suffocating the air from her lungs.

  King Chaz paced the room, creating spirals of wind at his feet, while Queen Vannja had her forehead buried in her hands. Her pain was evident by the unusual shivers on Rhonja’s skin—she sensed all of it. The Queen of Water finally lifted her head. Her face was blotched; tears kept streaming from her eyes like tiny waterfalls.

  Rhonja had no words to comfort them. However, she was High Queen, and she had to address what neither of them wanted to. The dragon Fyrax had become a danger to Aradria, and Vaedex refused to see reason. She locked eyes with the King of Fire, and the truth was revealed through his spirit.

  “You did not?” Disbelief and sorrow collided inside her.

  Vaedex slumped in his seat, shaking his head. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “You released your dragon from your bond without consulting us!”

  The candlelight flared, and the azurite cape billowed around the King of Air as he spun towards Vaedex. “How could you be so selfish?”

  Rhonja stood. “For Êmblanyea’s sake, will you sit down, Chaz!” She turned back to Vaedex.

  He pulled a hand through his golden locks. “I...”

  Rhonja shook her head. Vaedex seemed like a stranger, yet she had known him for millennia. “Fyrax did not know either before it was done. Do you even realize the situation you have put us in? No wonder Fyrax has left villages in clusters of cinder. He must feel utterly confused and betrayed.” Their dragons depended on the bond between them and the Elementals. When severed, Fyrax would have lost a piece of his being. When a spirit is torn, there’s no telling what might happen.

  “I’m so sorry.” Vaedex’s voice quavered. “He was unhappy. I only wanted him to feel free again.”

  “No. You wanted to feel free and, since that wasn’t possible, you decided to let Fyrax loose to satisfy your desires. As if you could live out your fantasy through him. You are an Elemental. There’s no escaping it.”

  Water splashed from Vannja’s hands, sending a gushing stream across the table, which slapped Vaedex in his face. “Fyrax desolated an entire Siren village in an attempt to attack Jormundra. He cannot even tell his kin from an enemy anymore. You have ruined everything.”

  The King of Fire wiped his face with his palm; the moisture sizzled, turning to steam.

  Rhonja felt their pain as her own. It was as if all the warmth that Vaedex and Vannja once had for each other had faded into a cold whisper, promising the beginning of a brutal winter. It would be hard for them to rekindle their affection after something like this. However, it had always been a matter of time before the elements of fire and water would cease to harmonize. They were not meant to coexist.

  ”I understand your suffering,” Rhonja said. “All of us do. However, what has happened cannot be undone. Now, we need to decide what to do next.” She snapped her fingers, and a Spiritguard approached the table. “Send for the shaman.”

  The Êblazon inclined his head and left the council room.

  “Do we need to kill Fyrax?” Queen Georganna asked.

  “No!” Vaedex leaped to his feet, and a tendril of flame snaked out to wrap itself around his body. “No, this is on me. It’s not his mistake.”

  A trickle of sweat ran down the nape of Rhonja’s neck as the room increased in temperature. “You cannot reforge your bond if he is not willing. He’s not in his right mind. I’m afraid we will have to disable him somehow.”

  The doors opened, and Gaija sauntered inside. “You called, Your Highness.” Her crimson gaze flitted from one Elemental to another. Slivers of silver had begun showing in her otherwise raven-black hair.

  Rhonja gestured for the shaman to sit and Gaija took a seat next to her.

  Even though Rhonja smiled at the shaman, she knew that in her eyes were the images of blazing fires. “We have to find a way to stop Fyrax from destroying any more of Aradria than he already has. Vaedex has severed his bond with the dragon, and I fear Fyrax is too far gone.”

  Gaija’s eyes widened, and her irises were replaced by grey fog. The Elementals stirred in their seats as the shaman’s gaze returned to normal. “I can only see two ways to stop him,” she said. “Neither of which is comforting.”

  Rhonja sighed. At least there was more than one option.

  “The first is the obvious one. You kill him.”

  Vaedex opened his mouth in protest, but Gaija waved a hand in front of her. “However, killing a dragon is not an easy feat. Also, I would not advise you to choose this option as he is still linked to the other dragons.”

  The King of Fire relaxed his shoulders and returned to his seat, the tendril of flame still twisting carefully around his body.

  A spark of hope settled in Rhonja’s heart.

  “The other option,” Gaija said, “is to bind Fyrax’s spirit, sending him into a deep sleep. So if you ever found another way, you could return his spirit to him.”

  A gust of wind whipped up, making tapestries slam against the marble walls, sending the purple drapes sweeping across the windows. “What will happen to the other dragons if we choose this option?” Chaz hovered above his seat.

  “They’ll go to sleep, too. For however long Fyrax is bound, the five of them share the same strengths and flaws as you do. Their life source is connected on an Elemental level due to the alliance you forged with them.�


  “And their eggs?” Vannja asked.

  “The same.”

  “They are connected to us as well,” Georganna said.

  “Yes, but not like you as Elementals are to each other. It won’t affect you in the same way. However, I do implore caution. Doing this will mean leaving a part of your own spirits dormant. You’ll not be as strong as you once were. The outcome is unpredictable and might very well lead to your undoing. However, if you do nothing, Aradria will surely crumble.”

  Vaedex looked at Rhonja with pleading eyes. ”I know I’m not entitled to ask this sacrifice of you, but I beg you! Please, don’t kill him.”

  Vannja rubbed her nose, then wiped her eyes. ”Neither option is favorable. However, from what I gathered, if Fyrax dies, so will the other Elemental dragons. I could not bear it. I will never forgive you for this, Vaedex.”

  Georganna and Chaz both nodded their assent.

  Gripping the armrests of her chair, Rhonja took a deep breath. “Then it is settled. We shall take Fyrax’s spirit. May Êmblanyea save us all!”

  Vannja blew her nose into a handkerchief. “But how? Can we bind a dragon to a diamond, like we did with the Êblazons? It doesn’t seem plausible.”

  “No, you’re quite right,” The shaman said. “The spirit guards were dying warriors, humans. The dragon is an immortal creature.” Gaija’s irises were replaced by a haze of gray yet again. “You’ll need a bigger vessel. The vessel has to be alive, someone with an affinity for magic and strength of will. Someone who is loyal to the Elemental rule and is already promised a long life.” Gaija shook her head, returning to normal.

  “Could it be one of us? Could I be the vessel?” Vaedex asked.

  The King of Air folded his hands on the table. “Do not be so unwise, old friend, though I appreciate the gesture. It would upset the balance if any one of us carried such a burden.”

  “I have an idea,” Rhonja said. “But it is with a heavy heart, and he will have to do this willingly.”

  The room echoed with Gaija’s cackling laugh. “Yes, Your Highness, perfect choice.”

  The morning breeze danced in Rhonja’s hair as she stepped onto the tower walk. Êvina city was stirring below. The slate rooftops spread out above the limestone housings. The distant chatter from the market, typically held on the last day of every week, was joyful. A bunch of kids ran through the wide cobbled streets from one entertainment to the next. A pair of jugglers had a group of younglings spellbound by a street corner, whereas a fire-eater entertained both old and young in the middle of the town square. The smell of spices blended with the scents of burning meat. Rhonja sighed and returned her attention to the task at hand.

  Pyralis stood further down the tower walk. His ebony hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and his green cape swung gently around him as if welcoming the gentle wind. The wizard tilted his head at his painting. The easel faced east, toward the rising sun.

  “Pyralis,” Rhonja said.

  “My Queen.” Pyralis turned. A drop of orange trickled down the handle of the brush he was holding and continued over the back of his hand. His gentle green-brown eyes were as inviting as always.

  “There is nothing quite like nature herself as a model.” Rhonja smiled.

  Pyralis arched an eyebrow and pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose, a speck of orange paint smeared on his cheek. “I’m sure you have not sought me out up here for my art.”

  “Nothing much gets by you, my friend. I have come to ask of you a sacrifice of great importance, and a burden I would not put upon you unless I thought it vital.”

  Pyralis put his brush down and followed Rhonja to the edge of the tower walk. He leaned against the white stone, looking out over the city. “Anything you ask is mine to give.”

  She folded a hand over his, and he met her gaze. Her brilliant irises now held an image of the ruby dragon in their core. There was no point in hiding her objective.

  He placed his other hand over hers. “How can I help with this?”

  “We must stop him. The Elementals and I have decided to extract his spirit and place it in a host until such time as we might find a better way.”

  “A host? Like in a gem of some sorts, like with your guards?”

  “Not quite. We need something other than a diamond, or rather someone with breath.”

  In her eyes was an image of himself.

  Pyralis drew his hands back, gripping the edges of marble. ”I’m not worthy.”

  “You are fierce. This would give you longevity and powers beyond your imagination. You have no other family, but you are strong, and you are wise.” She placed a hand on his shoulder, knowing he understood.

  Pyralis shifted his eyes. ”I’m honored that you trust me with such a task.”

  ”I will not lie to you. It very well might kill you. If not, the dragon’s spirit will inhabit you until such time as we deem it safe to extract it, or more likely, until your dying breath.” Rhonja studied him for misgivings, but she found none.

  The wizard cleared his throat. ”I can only hope your faith in me is not misplaced.”

  “None outside the High Council may know. But Pyralis, you will be our Keeper of Dragon Spirit. Our vaktir ith Draykaer sjèlen. May Êmblanyea watch over you.”

  2

  THE AWAKENING

  A millennium later

  - Gaija -

  Gaija soaked in cascades of perspiration from the heat. Scalding fire seared her skin as the agonizing screech issued from below, a burning sensation of sizzling lava torturing her mind.

  The tips of his wings ascended from the burning river. Before Gaija could avert her eyes, the creature stuck his prehistoric head above the surface. He twisted his neck, and the flames that lived inside him escaped his enormous jaw.

  In her mind’s eye, she watched as the giant ruby dragon emerged from the waves of blazing fire.

  There was no longer a shadow of a doubt. The second coming of dragons was finally upon them. Gaija reveled in the accomplishment.

  Long had her intentions been to awake them and, with Pyralis’s death, the ruby dragon of Lycobris was free to roam Aradria once again.

  As a Wy-alfen-Iliath – a Wild Elf – she had always worshipped fire, and the dragon was the single most potent symbol of her devotion. With the dragons returned, her kin might once again grow into power. Lycobris could rise to become the land for which it was meant to be.

  The second coming of dragons had been her vision all along.

  Her eyes returned to their usual crimson, and she met the bobbing head of the enlarged squirrel at her side who was nipping at a pinecone.

  ”It’s begun?” Rhastoc asked between mouthfuls.

  ”Yes, my friend, it has.” She gleamed.

  ”Now what?”

  ”Now, we go find ourselves a dragon.” Her lips parted, and the sound of shrill laughter echoed off the white marble walls of her chamber.

  Rhastoc dropped the pinecone and ran up the length of her feet, around her waist, and onto her shoulder. His bristly tail wrapped around her neck. She absently stroked his head and turned to stare out the arched window.

  Lycobris lay far in the distance to the south, in a different land, but the fires that escaped Vulkan Mountain this night reached far and high. Even from the south-west towers of the castle of Èvina, you could not miss the vibrant shades of orange, or the steam and black smoke rising from within the mountain’s belly.

  A knock issued from behind the door and Rhastoc jumped from Gaija’s shoulders to land on the frame of a painting, which portrayed the immense vision of Vulkan Mountain. As the door swung open, he bowed to Gaija, then flung himself into the art, departing the room as he disappeared into it feet first.

  ”The child is coming,” Ayva said with a trembling voice.

  Gaija turned to look at her High Queen, who stood panting in the doorway.

  “About time,” she muttered.

  “We need you there.” The High Queen shimmered like tiny gems
were embedded into her skin. A silky white dress hugged her slender body, falling to the floor in light layers. Becoming queen had suited her. It was as it should be, and Everine had played her part in securing Ayva’s leadership to perfection.

  With Everine in labor, Gaija feared Ayva might falter when she discovered the truth about the dragons, while at the same time having to care for her mother and her coming sibling. If it had been just any child, there would not be as much reason to fret. As it was, a half-breed between a human and an Earthling was unheard of – making the fact that it was related to an Elemental, their new High Queen, even more challenging.

  ”Let’s not waste time then. Shall we?” Gaija stepped forward, passing Ayva through the doorway.

  They walked with quick steps down the long corridor to Everine’s chambers. Howling cries filled the space as they moved closer. The Êblazons – Her Majesty’s guards – stood by the door, their sleek obsidian armor in sharp contrast to the white walls. They seemed, as always, unfazed. The spirit guards allowed Ayva and Gaija passage, bowing respectfully as the two women walked inside.

  The air was thick, and the smell of blood and medicinal herbs crawled into Gaija’s nostrils. The white room was sparsely furnished, with a small marble desk and matching chair below the window, accompanied by a nightstand beside the large bed in which Everine lay heaving for breath.