War Cry was, as her name implied, a vessel designed for war. She had her comforts, to be sure, but ultimately, the ark had been built to cement the domination of the Great Black Dragon Clan over its domain. She had fulfilled that intent magnificently; during the conquests before the Belicenian Games, the Patriarch had guided the wars from aboard War Cry, deploying dozens of fleets and millions of warriors from all over their subjugated territories, adding three thousand new planes to the Clan in just a few years.
Of course, many of those planes were small and sparsely, if at all, populated, but any talk about inflating numbers, no matter how true, would be met with draconic antipathy.
In contrast, Sweeping Tide was almost more of a palace than a war ark. She was certainly heavily armed and armored, replete with weaponry and fighters to assail her enemies with, but her purpose was to showcase the majesty of the Great Blue Dragon Clan, not to crush the Clan’s foes.
As she walked through its beautiful azure halls, Serana found herself appreciating the comforts afforded by the Blue Dragons. In her Clan, comforts tended to be rather spartan in nature; War Cry was comfortable, but stark in most places where guests weren’t expected. Sweeping Tide was beautiful everywhere.
More importantly, the Blue Dragons were far friendlier than the Black Dragons, welcoming her arrival to Sweeping Tide as if she were a Queen herself, and not a disgraced Princess who’d spent more than two centuries locked away.
‘Not that they’d know that…’ Her father would never have publicized her ‘indiscretion’, and while she was tempted to shout the truth for all the universe to hear, the uncertainty of whether her family was still alive stilled her tongue.
The warm greetings from the Blue Dragons extended deep into the private compartments of the palace-like ark. Servants and attendants from vassal Clans and direct servants abounded—another difference between the two Dragon Clans, since, despite the numerous subjugated peoples beneath the Black Dragons, only Clan members themselves, whether or not their bloodline was awakened, were allowed aboard War Cry.
Beside Serana walked Ryker, her only escort. Her people eschewed grand entourages, preferring their power to speak for itself. She was tempted to use this opportunity to try and escape, but she doubted her father would let her get far. He’d declare war on the entire universe to get her back—a fact that once inspired love and confidence, but which now drew from only hopelessness.
When she left War Cry with her cousin at her side, she didn’t say a word. She had much to say to Ryker, but her feelings weren’t easily put into words. She took some mild comfort in the fact that he seemed as put out by his duty as she was. If they weren’t expected to present a united front, then she was sure that he would be following her at a more respectful distance.
She still wanted to kick his teeth in, though.
“Serana!” a warm, welcoming voice shouted just as she and her escorts walked through a grand set of doors.
She recognized the voice, and sure enough, she soon beheld the familiar face of Jennifyr, one of her closest friends due in no small part to their similar age and position. Jennifyr was the Princess of the Great Blue Dragon Clan, born only two years before Serana herself had been, and she’d often taken something of a big sister role in Serana’s early life. They were equals now, but Serana still found herself relaxing almost immediately as Jennifyr darted over.
Jennifyr was a beautiful woman, which was undeniable by any metric. Her features were rounder than Serana’s, lending her a cuter vibe that often had strangers thinking her the younger instead of the older, but those who made that mistake could earn themselves the ire of a Blue Dragon—the Blue Dragons were friendlier than the Black Dragons, but they still had their pride and wouldn’t hesitate to jump into a fight. Unlike Serana, Jennifyr had manifested the blue scales around her temples that some Clan members sometimes did, making her heritage clear for all to see.
Like Serana, she was dressed fairly casually, opting for a simple blue tunic and long skirt, whereas Serana had gone for a black tunic and pants. Still, her svelte body was displayed enough to speak volumes as to her rough training regimen; her tanned body was filled with corded muscle, which combined with her statuesque height, gave her a strong and energetic air that was the complete opposite of the softer atmosphere that Serana knew other noblewomen preferred.
“Jenni—” Serana began before the taller woman almost barreled her over, the arms going around her neck the only thing keeping her on her feet.
Jennifyr lifted her easily, practically crushing Serana against her. “It’s been too long, my dear sister!” she almost sobbed. “How could you have kept yourself from me for these past couple centuries?!” Sea green eyes, narrowed teasingly, turned on Ryker. “Have you been keeping this vision of beauty from me?! I’ll kill you if you have!”
Ryker smiled uncertainly and simply replied, “No.”
Serana resisted the urge to snort and instead used her own strength to separate herself from Jennifyr. Despite the difference in height and obvious physical strength, they were the same tier.
“It has been too long,” Serana said with the warmest smile she’d worn since she’d last seen her husband.
“Come in, come in!” Jennifyr enthusiastically said, waving them further in where their conversation couldn’t be overheard. “We have so much to catch up on! Like where you’ve been!”
“That answer is as boring as it is unsatisfying, I’m sure,” Serana replied. As much as she hated her confinement and her father for doing it, she still cared about her Clan and didn’t want to sow discord with their brother Clans. “I’ve been home training. After that war with Kamran, we’ve been ensuring that no such challenge would ever be considered by any of our enemies.”
“That bastard…” Jennifyr whispered as the three of them finally stepped into true privacy, entering an extravagantly-appointed room without servants. “The audacity of that attack still boggles my mind! How did he ever think it would work?”
“It did damage,” Ryker stated. “We’ve recovered in the centuries since—as much as we could, at any rate…” He cast a sad look Serana’s way; her mother wasn’t the only one lost in that brief, but intense, war. “Kamran lost his entire force and welcomed peace. If the Storm Lands were closer, we would’ve razed his realm to the ground, and without a Storm King to guide them, the rest of the Storm Lords, belligerent though they are, would’ve stood by and watched Kamran’s deserved end.”
“The other Clans would aid you in that,” Jennifyr stated. “I know our Golden counterparts were practically baying for blood even just a few years ago.”
Serana smiled, knowing well the loyalty of the brother Clans to each other. However, she wasn’t sure her father had the mettle to lead such a war, given his reaction to the death of her mother…
“War will come in its time,” Ryker said, disagreeing with her unstated opinion. “The peace is only temporary; our Patriarch has not forgotten the insults levied and the blood spilled.”
“I hope he hasn’t,” replied Jennifyr seriously. “Kamran’s force was destroyed utterly, but most expect a harsher response from the Black Dragons. That Kamran was allowed to walk away is something that many still wonder about…”
“He’ll meet his deserved end when the time is right,” Ryker insisted.
“I’ll kill him myself,” Serana declared, drawing looks from the other two. “I will make sure that he is repaid for every drop of blood, every lick of flame, every errant spark that our Clan expended in that war.”
That statement elicited a brutal smile from the Blue Dragon. “I’d expect nothing less from you, dear sister.” Companionable silence settled for a couple seconds, and Jennifyr decided to change the subject. “While on the topic of the belligerence of Storm Lords… did either of you hear about an upcoming duel that the Gale Queen herself arranged?”
Serana rolled her eyes. “Why should we care about some duel? The Gale Queen is no one who concerns us unless she challenges our power…”
“Serana, dearest sister, where is your sense of drama? Listen to this: I heard that a pair of Storm Lords attacked the Gale Queen’s own cousin on a pleasure yacht! The Gale Queen involved herself and reserved a huge theater for her cousin to teach them a lesson!”
“This is of no matter for Dragons,” Ryker flatly said. “Let the Storm and Gale Lords fight amongst themselves. Let them think themselves important enough for our attention. What they think doesn’t matter.”
Serana found herself agreeing, as much as she instinctively wanted to disagree with her cousin. There was nothing about this duel that interested her at all.
“Little Nyra decided otherwise,” Jennifyr said, as if hearing that might change their mind.
“I welcome our Golden sister to visit us on War Cry,” Serana stated. “Or for us to visit her on Thunderscale. I have no desire to parade myself before the gawking masses. Let them wonder at the majesty of the Black Dragons.”
“Our brother Clans, as much as we love them,” added Ryker, no shortage of judgment in his tone, “your predilection to show yourself before the rabble is something we find… confusing.”
“It can be fun to watch them fight,” Jennifyr said in an enticing tone. “I might go myself. Nyra could use the company; she’s at that age where she needs some good female companions around her; her brothers have already started convincing her that blood and battle are all that she should care about.”
“Are they wrong?” Serana pointedly asked, a sly smile working its way across her face.
“There’s so much more to life than that!” Jennifyr insisted.
“Like what?” Ryker challenged.
“How about love?” Jennifyr retorted. “I’ve heard that you are being considered to succeed Uncle Fargrim, instead of my dear sister! If that’s true, you’d have to consider your match well, leaving no room in your life for something that all hearts yearn for! You’d lose it without ever truly knowing it! Unless… you already have a paramour?”
Ryker scoffed as Serana’s heart seized. “No,” her cousin said almost dismissively. “Those worth a Black Dragon’s time are few, so much so that I have yet to find one. I have enough time to find one, though, since my good cousin is still slated to succeed my most-blazing uncle.”
“Sure,” Jennifyr replied sarcastically. More seriously, she turned her beautiful green eyes to Serana and asked, “How about you? I’ve heard that your father has been seeking potential marriage alliances. My father has been a little critical of him for that, honestly…”
“Outside alliances are hardly unprecedented,” Ryker immediately shot back, even as Serana’s tongue turned to lead and her heart sank into her stomach. She didn’t even know how to approach that topic, especially with Ryker present…
“For the Clan Princess? It’s a little less precedented…” Jennifyr said. “What is your father looking for, dear sister?”
“Security,” Serana replied. “Allies. Losing Mother was… hard. I think he’s thinking of me without thinking of me, honestly. I have expressed disinterest in such matches, but he’s insisted. He wants me to be safe, and he’s forgetting about me being happy.”
“I’ll speak with my father,” Jennifyr declared. “If anyone can bring Uncle Fargrim around, it’ll be him.” Her green eyes narrowed again, and she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Though, I’ll admit, if Bennu-of-the-Flaming-Wind was one of my choices for consort… I’d be tempted.”
“I’d rather lie with a goat than that fried bird,” Serana said.
“Have you ever seen him?” Jennifyr asked. “He’s… beautiful. Too beautiful. It should be a crime to be that damned beautiful.”
“I’ve heard that he’s prickly and arrogant,” Serana riposted. “Any relationship he had with a dragon would end in his death.”
“But he’d be good for a quick lay, though,” said Jennifyr lustfully.
“Jenn!” Serana responded, scandalized.
“Finally!” Jennifyr exclaimed as she leaned back and laughed. “You’re giving me nothing, dear sister! I shouldn’t have to talk about Bennu to get this level of reaction from you!” She turned her eyes upon Ryker once more. “It must be because you’re here. Ryker, my brother, I love you, but you have to leave.”
“I can’t just—” Ryker’s protestations were immediately cut off.
“I said leave! We have girl stuff to talk about! Go on! Go!”
Ryker didn’t want to be there in the first place, and though he’d been given the perfect excuse to leave, he still glanced at Serana, his expression conflicted.
“Go, cousin,” Serana said. “We’ll catch up with you later.”
“Jorlun is here,” Jennifyr said, referring to one of her male cousins, and one more interested in martial pursuits than anything else, making him a kindred spirit to Serana’s own cousin. “He’s been in need of a decent sparring partner for a while.”
With that one extra push, Ryker sighed and got to his feet. “Very well. I’ll leave you ladies to your ‘girl stuff’. Serana, if you need anything…”
“I should be saying that to you, Cousin,” Serana said.
He grimaced, likely remembering their younger days. She was older than him and had taken up the role of big sister to him, making sure that he was properly educated and trained. She’d been pretty rough in making sure that he fulfilled their family’s expectations, but she did love him, despite his role in taking her from her husband and son. Finally, he sighed once again and made for the door.
Once he left, Jennifyr sat down next to her and snuggled in close. “So, dear sister, now that he’s gone, is there anything on your mind? I couldn’t help but notice a bit of tension between you two…”
Serana opened her mouth, the temptation to tell her kinswoman everything nearly overpowering. But the words wouldn’t come. It had been more than two centuries since those days with Artorias and their little Leon. Aeterna, despite being part of the Divine Graveyard, wasn’t a plane with much in the way of resources to catapult them to the higher-tiers. The likelihood that they were now gone was… too heavy a thought to tackle head-on. She couldn’t speak of them now without confronting that possibility.
So, she just said, “It’s been a rough couple of centuries. I’m just glad to see you again.”
Jennifyr clung more tightly to her. “Once this duel is over, you need to meet Nyra. Not even fifteen years old and already sixth-tier! And she’s been jumping with excitement at the idea of finally meeting you!”
“I’d like that,” Serana said, smiling at the idea of meeting a young, boisterous Gold Dragon. She couldn’t have Artorias or their Leon with her, but Nyra might fill at least a tiny part of her too-empty heart…
“We’ve also received invitations to other gatherings, if you’re in a social mood. Or just want to show off…” Jennifyr gave her a sly smile; crashing parties were one of their favorite pastimes growing up. As dragons, few could deny them anything, and putting some arrogant lesser mages in their place could be a good way to kill some time.
“Anyone interesting or in particular need of an attitude adjustment?” Serana asked with a sly grin.
Jennifyr listed, “Lady Ashe, daughter of Anax Trebis. First-Daughter Jocasta. Princess Miuna. Tillis Marian Eschaton. All have reached out. So have others, but these are the only ones that caught my eye.”
“I’ll think about it,” Serana said as she started cuddling up with Jennifyr, the two now leaning on each other.
Their conversation then turned to far less consequential matters, but Serana found herself enjoying it much more because of that. When it finally came time for her to leave, she did so with a lighter heart than she had when she and Ryker arrived.
---
“I sent invitations, but I don’t expect them to be here,” Miuna said apologetically. “I’m honestly not even expecting them to show up at any of my parties. I still have some levers to pull, but the Great Dragons have always been aloof; even the ‘most personable’ ones are being judged against the others…”
“It’s fine,” Leon said. “I never expected much from them, given what I’ve heard. And… I didn’t want to meet my mother in a place like this, anyway…”
He nodded to the enormous theater before them, titanic in scale yet seemingly not enough; since the Gale Queen herself had arranged this duel, even on such short notice, thousands of Lords and hundreds of thousands of their powerful subordinates turned out to watch, Storm and Gale Lords most numerous for obvious reasons. He’d prefer their meeting to be more private, so he was quietly grateful that he could focus on the match instead of his mother. However, if he left Belicenion without making contact with someone in the Great Black Dragon Clan, he’d never forgive himself.
“Let’s focus on the matter at hand,” he said. “We’ll talk about dragons later.”
“Right,” Miuna replied. “Then I’ll say this, Leon: good luck. I know that you’re a skilled warrior and that you’ve fought against those above your tier before… but I don’t trust the Gale Queen to make this fair.”
“The Sun King is overseeing this,” Leon pointed out. “His reputation will be on the line with so many Lords present.”
Miuna frowned as she stared through the one-way glass that separated them from the enormous theater stage. She’d take a position in one of the uppermost boxes soon, but she had decided to visit Leon backstage in one of the private staff observation rooms.
“You have my wishes anyway,” she said.
Grateful, Leon simply said, “Thank you.”
With that, Miuna gave him a shallow smile and took her leave. It was almost time for the duel to start, and he now had to coordinate with Ingrid. No matter what else, Mikaela was thirteenth-tier, and to ensure their victory, they were going to have to work together…
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