ManyardButler

“Why should I trust you?” said Gabrielle. “Would you rather trust your three ‘allies’ back in your ship?” Chirakila retorted.  “If so, then why are you here?  Alone?  Did Olokuvon, Vithan and Tilanna come to your aid when I was throwing your own explosives at you?  We can offer loyalty more lasting than any currency based on favours.” It was clear that Chirakila knew nothing about what went on in SwanSword before Gabrielle left for battle; yet Gabrielle had to admire the Dragon’s soothing tone, her Machiavellian confidence. “Who are you?” said Gabrielle.  “The Serpent in the Garden of Eden?” “Whatever that means,” said Chirakila, “I hope it is a complement, Mouse on Storm Mountain.” SwanSword had never mentioned anything about a Mouse on Storm Mountain.  Was it a fable of some kind?  Anyway, Haloken had spawned countless cultures over the past twenty-one thousand years, and Gabrielle had spent only three hours learning about any of them.  Perhaps her biochip was ready to be reedited –

On the walkway, Dahal pointed and traced his finger along the crowd of hostages. There was no doubt that some of them were clairvoyant enough to know what he was doing and planning. Evidently, the message had spread telepathically throughout the crowd, for dozens of hostages were retreating to get out of his line of fire. The four Dragons closed in on the panickers, stalking and herding them away from the edge of the Hall. Dahal found that he did not need to point for long. The target was obvious, as was the thought behind her stare. Those red and blue stripes would have stood out all the way to Panument, especially on a body that had more flesh than half of the Human hostages, and more muscle than all of them. Alathaka crouched still as she watched Dahal Savathar fly down from the walkway, levitating directly towards her, his manic blue stare fixed upon her. She closed her eyes. I accept my fate, she told herself. Mother of Creation, accept my soul. When she opened her

We are all born pure, thought Dahal Savithar, and then the world defiles us. I shall rejoice in expunging the filth that is the world. Far ahead, across the ocean, was the place where the fire was going to be lit. As he stood on the prow of the Chalivon, his blond locks and dark blue longcoat billowing in the ocean breeze, Dahal could see no trace of Kesalzhin Island – at least, not with his Human eyes. His ability to scan the auras of Humans and Dragons from great distances, through sea and stone, was not his strong point – he usually left that task to others. Nonetheless, he could feel something over the dusky horizon; a cluster of life, like stars seen through smoke. This scanning accomplishment, however, meant little more to Dahal than the petty limitations of his Human physical senses. He set his standards far higher. His mind’s mastery over matter was a source of far greater pride, but greater still was the privilege of exclusive knowledge. How many mortals in

Tilanna saw them coming. For now, there were still a few kilometres of stone between her and them, but the distance was rapidly closing. She quickly analysed their auras, and did not like what she saw. She herself was adept in almost every psionic talent. But each of these seven pursuers were adept in at least two things, and what she sensed from the leading Dragon was too frightening to think about. Tilanna had felt this way before. When she had been a child, still developing her prodigious powers, she used to go for walks in the forest near her hometown. Alone. She had believed that the gods and her own powers would protect her. However, back then, her only fully functioning powers were telepathy, scanning and illusionism. Her awesome powers over matter and the minds of others did not come to fruition until her adolescence. Furthermore, she was soon to discover that the gods did not protect those who were foolish and arrogant enough to put them to the test. When she

Olokuvon leapt from the tunnel base. His throat screamed in Draconic, but Vithan caught the unmistakeable image in the telepathic shockwave. Alathaka. Instantly Vithan reached out and halted the Dragon in midair. He levitated to the struggling Olokuvon’s level, keeping his arm outstretched, his fingers clawed. The gesture was symbolic; yet essential for visualising the invisible net of psychokinetic force he needed to restrain the writhing, clawing, thirty-ton Dragon. It was agonizing. It felt as if someone had stabbed his palm with an icicle that penetrated all the way to his elbow nerve. It felt as if a rat-sized Dragon was clawing on the inside of his skull, searing his entire system as it grated the bone. He also felt the very real trickle of blood under his nose, the price of straining his mindpowers to near-suicidal limits. There was no way he would last another minute. The roles were reversed. The Dragon was effectively in the Human’s pocket, and the experience