The Ballad Of A Semi-Benevolent Dragon - Chapter 46: The Dragon Shores Up His Defences
Xiang woke, as he so often did these days, to find Haitao patting him on the face. The water salamander was fond of his children and usually spent his nights in a large bowl of seawater in one of their rooms. Yet despite the fact that Xiang always closed the door of the room he and his wife shared, the water salamander was always there to wake him each morning.
At first he had thought the water salamander was simply slipping into the room via the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. However, the once scrawny salamander had already grown a little pudgy since joining his family, likely due to all of the fish he ate whenever the opportunity presented itself. Perhaps he could fit into the gap, but it would be no easy task. Brother Dragon had told him not to worry. The salamander had grown quite thin at sea, and any excess weight he carried now would soon be used to fuel his growth and power.
The window had been another possibility, but Haitao had managed to get into the room even when the window was closed to ward off the wind and rain of a passing storm. It was his grandfather who had revealed the salamander’s secret. The old tiger-man was often the first to wake, and few things pleased him more than watching the salamander go about his business. His affection was not unrequited either.
Haitao could often be found perched on his grandfather’s head or shoulder, and when his grandfather accompanied the fishermen out to sea to offer his advice and wisdom, the water salamander went with him. Although Haitao could not yet speak, he was still able to share the gist of his thoughts using an odd form of telepathy.
For all his small size, Haitao understood water in a way that none of them could. He could read the tides and the waves, sense fish from afar, and warn them of dangers hidden in the water. He would listen intently while Xiang’s grandfather spoke before offering his reply in chirps, clicks, and croons that the older tiger-man was somehow able to decipher.
“He is a fine fisherman,” his grandfather liked to say after each trip out to sea with the salamander. “Just wait until he’s bigger. He’ll be catching more fish on his own than the rest of us put together.”
It turned out that Haitao was using his powers to create thin but powerful tendrils of water that he could use to open the door. His children had been ecstatic upon finding out and had lavished praise upon Haitao, and the cheerful creature had repaid them by showing them all the ways his powers could be used in childish games and pranks.
Xiang had been suitably impressed as well – and then he had seen just how dangerous Haitao’s power could be when used in battle. His daughter had been playing near the edge of the village when a jungle rat had emerged from the undergrowth. Such rats were no threat to any adult, and they were surprisingly tasty. However, their sharp teeth and vicious demeanour meant they could easily harm a young child.
She had screamed as the rat sprang toward her, and Xiang had turned, a blade of water forming around his claws – only for the rat to fall to the ground, a hole in the middle of its head. Haitao had toddled over, a stern frown on the normally affable salamander’s face. Xiang’s daughter had sniffled and picked the salamander up, holding him close for comfort as she retreated from the edge of the village. Xiang had gone over to examine the rat while his wife tended to their daughter. The hole in the rat’s head was incredibly precise… and there had been water dripping from it.
Haitao had slain the rat with a beam of water – a beam that had also pierced right through the trunk of a nearby tree.
Brother Dragon had chuckled. “An impressive attack for such a young water salamander although I doubt he can use it more than several times a day. By the time he is an adult, he’ll be able to cut a ship in half with only a fraction of his power.”
Haitao was such a small and cheerful fellow, always happy to keep Xiang’s children and grandfather company, so it was easy to forget what he would one day become. As weak as he might seem, Haitao would one day be stronger than anyone in the village. Indeed, he would become stronger than everyone in the village put together.
“Fear not,” Brother Dragon had said. “True salamanders are loyal to the point of madness. Treat him well, raise him as your own, and Haitao will die before he lets harm come to you and yours, and he will guard and guide your descendants for however long he should live.”
And now Haitao was patting Xiang on the cheek, his usual smile on his face as he tried to get Xiang out of bed to begin the day.
“Yes, yes,” Xiang said, pressing a kiss to his wife’s brow and then sitting up. “I’m getting up.” He glanced out the window. “Hmm… you’ve woken me a little earlier than usual today.”
Haitao nodded and then nipped at Xiang’s fingers. He wanted Xiang to follow him. There was something he should see. It was important.
“Just give me a moment,” Xiang said. “I need to dress.”
Once he had dressed, Xiang followed Haitao out of their house. The village had come along nicely although there was still work to do. All of them had houses now, and wards had been up to protect them from monsters and larger animals although none had managed to get past Roots-Delving-Deep. Only smaller and weaker creatures like the jungle rats could get enter the village, and it shouldn’t be more than a day or two before the wall they were building was complete. In the meantime, the cats and dogs of the village were hard at work. They were gifts from the villagers Antaria ruled over, and they had proven their worth, warning them of approaching threats and dealing with most of the pests.
Haitao chirped, and Xiang chuckled before lifting the salamander up onto his shoulder.
“Such a lazy creature,” Xiang murmured. “Now, what do you want to show me?”
It was still early, so only a handful of his fellow tiger-people were out and about as they made their way down to the beach. They had cleared a path to make travel to and from the beach easier, but Xiang still took a few moments to check the area around the path for any sign of danger. It was well known that predators often stalked their prey for days, learning their habits and waiting for the best time to strike.
Thankfully, there were no signs of any animals larger than the jungle rats, but he made a note to remind the sentries to check the area around the village regularly. An adult tiger-person was more than a match for most regular animals, but a monster was another matter. During one of his jaunts deeper into the jungle to search for valuable plants, he had stumbled across a manticore.
Manticores were vicious creatures with the faces of men, the bodies of lions, and a tail like a scorpion. Some were winged and could fly, but the one he had encountered had been of the wingless variety. Even so, it had been the size of a rhinoceros, and its tail had risen menacingly. He knew from past encounters with other manticores that it could shoot its stinger like an arrow. Such an attack could pierce through solid plate armour, and the venom contained in the stinger could kill within moments.
He and the manticore had stared into each other’s eyes, neither of them moving until the lumbering, heavy footfalls of a tree-folk had convinced the manticore to retreat. It was one of Doomwing’s other tree-folk, and the massive tree-man had suggested Xiang delve less deeply into the jungle in the future – at least until he grew stronger.
As they approached the beach, he realised that something was wrong. At this distance, he should be able to hear the waves lapping against the shore. Moreover, the sea breeze should be stirring the leaves of the trees around him.
But the sea was silent, and not a single leaf moved.
His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Haitao. “Was it danger you sensed?”
The salamander chirped happily and shook his head. Xiang should not linger. He should go straight to the beach.
“You are lucky that you are a poor liar,” Xiang muttered as he hastened toward the beach. “Otherwise, I would be warier.” As sneaky as Haitao could be when he snuck an extra fish or two for dinner, he could never lie convincingly when asked about it.
Xiang reached the end of the path and stepped out onto the beach.
Doomwing was there in the waters of the cove, his massive form gleaming in the early morning light like a living reef of rubies and sapphires. Even now, having seen the dragon many times, it was still difficult for Xiang’s mind to accept that a living thing could possibly be so huge. And for Doomwing to mention that there were dragons even larger than him? Inconceivable. What must it be like to see a mountain take wing and soar through the sky?
But as Xiang’s gaze shifted from the dragon to his surroundings, he finally understood what Haitao wanted him to see.
The waters of the cove were completely calm. No. The ocean as far as he could see in every direction he cared to look was completely calm. He might as well have been looking at a mirror, so still was the water.
Likewise, there was no wind to stir the sands of the beach or the leaves of the trees further back. Even the clouds in the sky had ceased their movement.
“What… what is this?” Xiang asked.
“It is my power,” Doomwing rumbled. The dragon had his back to him as he stared out to sea, and he did not bother to turn as he spoke. “I am a nova dragon. Telekinesis is one of the abilities my lineage grants me.”
“This… this is telekinesis?”
Xiang had encountered telekinesis before. There were several spells that allowed people to move small objects, and he had even worked with a powerful mage who could throw boulders the same way regular people threw pebbles. But this? This went beyond mere magic. This was the sort of display that had led some over the years to revere certain dragons as living gods.
“Telekinesis is the ability to apply force to an object without coming into physical contact with it.” Doomwing chuckled. “As you know, gathering large amounts of magic in one place can affect the environment. Simply having a lot of fire magic in one place will increase the temperature, even without a spell or rune being used. Likewise, gathering large quantities of life magic will cause things in the area to grow more quickly and vigorously. It is possible for dragons to grow so powerful that they can massively affect their surroundings by simply loosening their hold on their magic. As a nova dragon, the form my magic naturally takes is telekinesis.”
Xiang did his best to burn every word into his memory. Doomwing had likely forgotten more about magic than even the greatest experts amongst the beast-people had ever learned. Indeed, he could only imagine how much most mages would be willing to pay to listen to him speak about magic.
“When you have as much magic as I do, controlling it is key. For example…”
The wind roared to life, and the seas raged. Overhead, the clouds spun madly, and the sand kicked up in a blinding spray that forced Xiang to cover his face.
“That is what occurs if I loosen my hold over my magic and do not control what happens when it leaks into my surroundings. It is the nature of my magic to want to move things, and that movement can easily be chaotic and destructive. Yet… if I control the magic leaking into my surroundings…”
The water stilled. The wind died. The clouds stopped. And the sand fell silent.
“If you ask a mage what mastery means, you will receive many answers, many of which will be long winded. My answer is simple. Mastery of magic means overwhelming power wielded with peerless control. I can smash a mountain to dust or pick up and write my name upon a single grain of sand.”
Xiang swallowed thickly. He had known that there were others stronger than him, but even after meeting Doomwing he had not realised just how impossibly cavernous the gap was between those like himself and those like Doomwing who stood at the summit of power.
“Thank you for demonstrating,” Xiang said, bowing. “May I ask what else you intend to do?”
Doomwing spread his wings, and the beach and jungle were bathed in red and blue as his wings caught the light. “This place is part of my territory, yet it does not possess the same defences as other parts of my territory. In the past, it did not need them. But now that you and your people live here, I will extend to you the same protection that others in my lands enjoy.”
“That… that is a mighty boon you offer,” Xiang said. “And we are most grateful.”
“You are stronger than most tiger-men,” Doomwing replied. “But you have only just begun your journey to attaining true power. Can you sense the magic that flows through the earth, the sea, and the sky?”
Xiang nodded. “Somewhat. But my range is not great, and I cannot perceive the flow of magic as clearly as I would like.”
“Good. Then what I am about to do should aid you. Sit. Close your eyes and allow your magical senses to extend as far as possible. Even if you cannot actually reach them, seek the currents of power that flow through the earth, the sea, and the sky. You have an affinity for water magic, so you will likely have more success with sensing the magic of the sea.”
Xiang sat down and closed his eyes. Haitao hopped off his shoulder and settled onto his lap. He could feel the salamander’s magic moving in lazy circles and found his own magic matching the salamander’s pace. The world behind his closed eyelids went from dark to beautiful as the magic in his surroundings slowly came into view.
Vivid currents of power coursed through the sand beneath him while other currents stretched out into the sea like roads of light and force. Above him, he could only vaguely glimpse the magic that flowed through the sky, but what he saw was splendid – rivers of magic flowing through the clouds and soaring up to vanish beyond the summit of the heavens.
But there was something else, a power that permeated the area, that saturated every grain of sand, every drop of water, every gust of air. It was Doomwing’s magic, a mantle of power that seemed to envelop Xiang’s whole world, as solid and unbreakable as a mountain yet as fluid and agile as the wind. It sank into the earth below him, the sea beyond him, and the sky above him.
“Your magic…” Xiang whispered. “It is… everywhere.” His eyes widened. “You’re saturating the currents of magic with your power!”
“Yes.” Doomwing chuckled. “You should thank Haitao. Salamanders have a natural ability to perceive the magic around them, and they can share some of that sight with those they have chosen.”
“What… what are you doing?” Xiang asked.
“The wards around your village work by binding magic into anchors like wooden posts. That approach is not altogether dissimilar to spell-stones or the various forms of magical script that exist. I could make wards of my own using alchemy to create anchors of far greater quality and durability. However, what need have I for anchors when I can manipulate the very currents of magic?”
Xiang’s brows furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
And then Doomwing’s power flexed.
In the past, Doomwing had spent many years working on the creation of increasingly powerful and sophisticated defences. He had developed wards of every kind and had experimented with all manner of magics, materials, and theories. He had explored countless runes and spells, all in the hopes of creating the best defences that he could.
And he had failed.
The fundamental problem with long-term magical defences was that they required an anchor to function. Most of the time, that anchor was something physical, such as a post, a pillar, or even a slab of rock. That meant the defences he could employ were limited by the anchors he could use. Yes, he could simply weave defensive magics that did not rely upon anchors, but those were not as durable as those that used anchors. That was usually not a problem in combat since defensive magic typically only had to hold out long enough to ward off an attack. The body itself could also be used as an anchor if necessary.
But if he wanted to defend his lair or another important location, then he wanted defences that would stand the test of time and which would not require his presence to work properly. Otherwise, he might as well just stay there the whole time.
Other mages were content to continue relying upon anchors. Indeed, his fellow primordial dragons dealt with the issue by using increasingly powerful anchors that could not only handle more and more magic but which were also more and more durable. In fact, many of them employed a strategy that Doomwing himself had devised – use an entire mountain as an anchor.
But even that had its limitations.
Magical defences could either draw upon the power used to cast them or upon magic from their surroundings. The former was quite convenient for short-term use, but it was limited when it came to long-term applications. When someone used their magic to cast a spell, their magic would naturally disperse into the environment over time. The better a mage’s control, the longer that would take, but it would still eventually lead to the spell decaying and fading away. Using magic that was designed to draw on its surroundings was much better for long-term usage, but it was often tricky to maintain that connection over long periods of time.
Runes suffered from a similar problem. Without someone around the maintain them, they often stopped working. There were ways around that, of course. The existence of rune weapons was an example of runes being made relatively permanent through the use of appropriate materials. However, even materials of that quality would struggle to hold ancient runes for long without some kind of restorative procedure. Doomwing had solved that problem in Marcus’s sword by using sanguine-steel, a material that could drink blood to restore itself. For obvious reasons, however, that wasn’t an option most of the time.
In the end, it came back to a question of materials. Doomwing was the greatest living alchemist – and quite possibly the greatest non-divine alchemist ever – and he still hadn’t been able to find or create a material that suited his needs.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
And then he realised that he’d been going about it the wrong way all along.
Why was he using a physical anchor at all?
If he was going to use the magic in the environment to fuel his defences, then why not use that same magic as the anchor?
At first glance that was impossible. But the more he’d thought about it, the more it had made sense. Magic permeated the world. It flowed back and forth, and the largest and densest movements were referred to as currents. In other words, magic wasn’t some formless, shapeless thing.
So why couldn’t he take those currents of magic and form them into the runes and spells he needed? After all, the geometry of runes and spells defied common sense. He could make the most complicated rune and spell formations and still avoid bottlenecks, dead-ends, and tangles with enough effort.
His first attempts had been disastrous.
Actually shaping raw currents of magic in the way he desired had worked – but the shaping hadn’t lasted. He simply couldn’t control the magic in the world around him as well as he could control his own magic. Yes, dragons and other powerful creatures could alter the flow of magic on a large scale, clearing blockages and improving the purity of power, but what he needed was the ability to make much greater changes over much smaller distances – and to have those changes last when the flow of magic naturally tried to return to its original form.
So why not make the magic in the world around him the same as his own magic?
And that was why he was saturating the area with his power.
With each breath he took, his power flowed into the earth, the sea, and the sky. It sank deep into the currents of magic around him, and he felt his connection to those currents strengthen. A lesser dragon’s telekinesis was restricted to affecting wholly physical objects, but Doomwing was a primordial nova dragon. His telekinesis could affect even magic. It was a skill that he had sharpened to an absurd degree because it let him use magic that he wouldn’t normally be able to even with his incredible level of control. For example, his affinity for light magic was not especially high, so he shouldn’t be able to control light magic well enough to use the more powerful healing spells. And yet, by using runes to convert his magic into light magic and then using his telekinesis on that light magic, he was able to approximate the effects of some of the most powerful healing spells in existence.
Eventually, on the verge of madness, he had achieved his goal. He had learned how to use his telekinesis on the currents of magic that flowed through the world – and have the changes he made endure over long periods of time.
It was the answer to his problems.
The currents of magic themselves had become both the anchors and the embodiments of the defensive magic he wished to use. As long as those currents existed, his defensive magic would persist. Moreover, by essentially inscribing his defensive magic into the currents themselves, they could draw on the full power of the currents without suffering from the limitations imposed by a physical medium. It would take someone capable of doing the same thing as him to do undo such defences, and that was assuming they could overcome the additional safeguards that Doomwing could weave into the currents themselves.
Admittedly, the process was relatively time-consuming, power-hungry, and mentally taxing, but the result was worth it: defences of unparalleled might and longevity that were basically impervious to tampering or disarmament.
This was the reason his lair was considered the most heavily fortified location in the world. His earlier encounter with the squabbling denizens of the sea had shown that this place was not immune to interference from outside forces. Moreover, the tiger-people were not yet strong enough or numerous enough to repel all of the trouble that might head their way. Even his doppelganger might be forced to retreat if a more powerful denizen of the deep appeared. But with the defences he was creating, this area should hold against almost any assault long enough for Doomwing himself to arrive and deal with the problem.
Returning his full attention to the task before him, he lost himself in the familiar toil of working magic of the very highest level. Few things could exhaust him like this, but few things were as rewarding either.
By the time he was finished, night had fallen, and the moon was out. It was the middle of the night. Someone had tried to contact him with a long-range communication spell, but he had set the matter aside since he could not afford to be interrupted while he was setting up his defences. Based on the magic involved, it had been Firetail, the old drake who served Regal Flame. Had the matter been urgent, Firetail would have tried to reach him more than once. Instead, the drake had let the matter drop after a single attempt. It could not be that urgent then.
Turning to the beach, Doomwing’s eyes gleamed.
Xiang had collapsed onto his back. The tiger-man was utterly spent, and Haitao had settled onto his chest in much the same state. They had both done their best to follow the changes throughout the day and into the night. They lacked the ability to truly perceive what Doomwing was doing, but just the glimpses they had been able to catch had offered considerable enlightenment. Xiang, in particular, had vastly increased his ability to perceive magic in the surrounding area while Haitao could now manipulate the magic in his surroundings over a much larger area.
Now… should he contact Firetail to see what he wanted to speak about, or should he leave it until morning?
He called Brother Dragon over. He might as well introduce the doppelganger to Firetail. As an expert in long-range communication magic, it was quite possible that his doppelgangers would be speaking to Firetail in the future. It was best to introduce them now to avoid any confusion.
Taking a moment to compose himself, Doomwing gathered his magic and then cast a long-range communication spell of his own. Although Firetail generally restricted his spells to audio communication only due to his relatively small magical reserves, Doomwing had no such problems. His spell would allow them see and hear each other with ease. Of course, it would be more taxing than using his mirror, but such spells had served as the basis for the mirror’s creation in the first place.
Regal Flame was in the middle of a discussion with Firetail when she felt it – that unique combination of oppressive magical power and unearthly precision that belonged to only one dragon. Firetail fell silent at once, seemingly entranced by the magic that was forming around him.
Regal Flame could not blame him.
Even for a dragon, her magical sight was considered incredibly keen, and the communication magic taking shape around him was a master work, something that even a dedicated specialist like him would have taken Ages to craft. And yet Doomwing had developed it out of irritation, annoyed at what he perceived as flaws in the long-range communication magic that had existed at the time.
Magics such as this formed the foundations of his infamous mirror, an item that defied common sense and was capable of peering into even the most well-guarded domain. One of their fellow primordial dragons had demanded he surrender the mirror, citing its potential for abuse. Doomwing’s response had been characteristically blunt.
“If you want me to hand it over, then you are welcome to try to take it from me.”
Ashheart had laughed, knowing full well that the dragon in question had neither the power nor the courage to face Doomwing in open combat.
Doomwing’s words had been accompanied by a dazzling threat display – those vast wings of his flaring as he called upon his magic to make the very air itself roar. To seize the air with his telekinesis and then make it shake with enough force to mimic thunder was a clear statement of his intent.
Regal Flame had moved the meeting on to other matters, if only to spare her fellow primordial dragon any further embarrassment. Dreamsong might have spared a care for the other dragon’s feelings, but Doomwing was not nearly as merciful. He had worked hard to make the mirror, so he would view any attempt to take it with hostility. Besides, any suggestion that he would abuse its powers was an attack on his honour and his ability to keep the oaths he had sworn.
As the magic around Firetail neared completion, the drake shivered.
“The spell will not finish unless I give permission,” Firetail said. He smiled faintly. “He could force it to completion, but he is giving me the option to refuse if I wish.”
“He respects you,” Regal Flame replied. “So he is treating you courteously.”
“Shall I accept?” Firetail asked. “It is rather late now…”
“Accept,” Regal Flame replied. “We did try to reach him earlier, but he must have been occupied. He is most likely reaching out now to ensure that he has not missed anything important.” She paused. “You remember what we discussed, do you not?”
Firetail bit back a chuckle and nodded. “I do, my lady. I am to inform Doomwing of your intentions to visit his domain to observe the changes he has made to it.”
“Excellent.” Regal Flame moved away. “I shall remain silent, so do not mention me.”
“Wait!” Firetail cried. “I might have reached out to him with a spell that permits only audio communication, but his spell –”
An image of Doomwing appeared before them. He was in a cove, the waves washing over his scales as the moon’s silver light shone down on him. His scales gleamed, luminous shards of red and blue.
“Firetail,” Doomwing rumbled before his gaze went to Regal Flame. “Regal Flame.”
“Ah.” Regal Flame momentarily froze. Of course his spell allowed them to look upon each other while speaking. That was one of the reasons it was so much more complicated and powerful than the spell Firetail had used to reach out to him. She’d known that – after all, she’d watched the spell form around Firetail – and yet that detail had somehow slipped her mind at the crucial moment. “Greetings, Doomwing. You are looking… well.”
And he was. The last time she’d seen him, he had looked half dead. The god-metal spear had left a gaping hole in his chest, and his body had been covered in countless lesser wounds as well. Only his iron discipline and unyielding will had kept him conscious despite his injuries, and she had wished so very much that he would have let her help him. Yet the same fierce pride that made him who he was had also driven him to reject her aid. It was frustrating and endearing at the same time. He was so very draconic.
He stared at her for a moment and then nodded. “My injuries have healed, and my strength has returned in full. I trust that things in your domain are going well.”
“They are,” Regal Flame replied. “Although there was much to do after the Sixth Catastrophe.”
“Indeed. I was not able to respond earlier since I was shoring up the defences of my territory.”
She had seen the defences around his lair, and she could understand why he had felt safe retreating there despite his wounds. Even now, she had yet to work out how he had managed to create those defences. The magic that protected his lair was seemingly woven into the very currents of magic themselves, something she would have claimed was impossible if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. But how had he managed it?
“I asked Firetail to contact you because I wanted to visit your realm to see what improvements you have made to it. Frostfang mentioned that you were taking measures to properly develop it. I did not wish to arrive unexpectedly.”
“Your consideration is appreciated,” Doomwing replied. “Although you are always welcome in my lands, my subjects would be quite… startled if you arrived unexpectedly.”
Regal Flame couldn’t help but smile. That was practically a standing invitation to visit – which was no small thing, considering how reclusive he could be. It might simply be because she was perhaps the most reliable of his allies after Ashheart, but still… it was nice to know he thought well of her.
“Firetail,” Doomwing said. “It would seem that your old wounds have settled.”
“You can tell?” Firetail asked curiously.
“The magic we are using to communicate allows me to project analytical and divination magic to your location.”
“Impressive as always,” Firetail replied. “And, yes, my old wounds have settled somewhat.”
“If you intend to use the method I originally suggested to deal with them, then notify me first,” Doomwing said. “I have thought of several additions that would increase the chances of success.” His attention went back to Regal Flame. “You mentioned Frostfang earlier. I take it he has visited.”
“He is still in my domain,” Regal Flame replied. “And we have agreed to a trade – my flame for his cold. Will the additions you have thought of still require Frostfang’s cold?”
“Yes. However, the additions will increase the chances of success significantly although I will have to handle them personally.”
“Personally?” Regal Flame asked hopefully. Was he thinking of coming to her domain? That would be even better than visiting his.
“I intend to visit the plateau,” Doomwing said, and his expression turned grim for a moment before. “Now that I have recovered, I need to add another monument.”
“Ah.” Regal Flame managed to keep from wincing. She had heard a rough explanation of what had happened from Dreamsong. To once again have to strike down someone he considered a friend… “When do you expect to arrive?” She would have to prepare an appropriate welcome.
“I expect to go there soon. However, there is a matter I must attend to first.”
“Is it something else in your domain?”
“No.” Doomwing sighed and looked, briefly, like a much younger dragon who had been caught with his claws in the hoard of an older dragon. “I have to help Ashheart rebuild his lair.”
“It was destroyed during the Sixth Catastrophe, wasn’t it?” Regal Flame asked. “I remember receiving reports of its destruction, but I wasn’t overly concerned since Ashheart himself was encased in a mountain at the time, and you had already moved his hoard to a safe location. What exactly happened? Why would the Sixth Catastrophe destroy it?”
“She didn’t. I did.”
Regal Flame blinked. “What?”
“The Sixth Catastrophe was trying to utilise the power beneath it, so I set a trap for her. Unfortunately, she was able to escape, and his lair was destroyed in the process.”
“You blew up Ashheart’s lair?” Regal Flame almost laughed, but though she managed to keep from laughing, she could not completely conceal her amazement and mirth. “I know that he recently awakened. Have you told him?”
“He is aware of what happened,” Doomwing said stiffly. “And he has informed me that he is going to his lair. He wants to rebuild it. While I have no doubt that he will do an excellent job, the least I can do after blowing it up is to improve its magical defences. I will also be transporting his hoard to him since there are many things I cannot send through my mirror.”
“You must be glad that he is awake and well again,” Regal Flame said.
“I… yes. He is my friend, and he was harmed as part of a plan I conceived.” Regal Flame moved to speak, but he continued. “Regardless of the necessity and the eventual success of my plan, the fact remains that his wounds are my responsibility. If I wish to claim credit for success, then I must also accept responsibility for failure.”
“You are too hard on yourself,” Regal Flame said. “As I am sure Ashheart will tell you.” She noticed something move at the very edges of the illusion. “Doomwing, is there someone else with you.”
“Ah. Yes.”
A small, winged figure stepped forward, and Regal Flame stared. Red and blue scales. Overly large wings. The resemblance was unmistakable.
“Is… is that a hatchling?” Regal Flame stuttered. “I… I was not aware you had any hatchlings. Have you… taken a mate?” Surely, Frostfang would have mentioned Doomwing having hatchlings and a mate. The other dragon was thoughtful, and he had to know that she would appreciate being informed of such details. “He… he looks just like you.”
“A hatchling?” Doomwing blinked. “No. I do not have any hatchlings.”
“But…”
“This is Brother Dragon,” Doomwing said. “He is a special doppelganger I made with my magic. He and the others I have made are vastly superior to normal doppelgangers and are more than capable of carrying out a variety of important tasks in my absence. With how much work my territory requires to develop the way I intend, creating them was the best option.”
“A… a doppelganger?” Regal Flame almost sagged in relief. “How interesting. You shall have to tell me more about it when you arrive.”
“Of course. I do not know if I will be able to teach you how to make them, but you are one of the few I would trust with the method.” He scowled. “If I taught Stormbringer, she would probably use them to throw even more animals into that pool of hers.”
“That does seem like something she would do.” Regal Flame could admit that throwing animals into a Pool of Ascension could be enjoyable, but she simply couldn’t understand how Stormbringer could devote so much time to it.
“I will contact you again when I am finished helping Ashheart.” Doomwing paused. “Did Frostfang mention the communication device I gave him?”
“He did,” Regal Flame replied, trying to keep the eagerness and greed out of her voice.
“I shall have yours prepared by the time I arrive,” Doomwing said. “Was there anything else you wished to speak of?”
“Nothing that cannot wait until after you arrive,” Regal Flame replied.
“Then I shall take my leave.”
The magic faded, and she and Firetail were once again alone in her lair. The drake looked at her.
“That went well.”
“It did,” Regal Flame said. “It really did.”
