The Kingdom Razed by Dragons Page 30

  “You may be right,” Persephone said and furrowed her brow. “But the councilmembers are so old. What if their poor hearts can’t take the bad news?”

  “I really hope they’re not that frail,” Thatcher said, his left eye twitching. “And I purposely came to find you instead of anyone else because you’re the closest one to the phoenix matriarch. Convince her to drive the intruders away.”

  “But her young just hatched,” Persephone said, biting her lower lip. “I don’t think she’ll be willing to leave their side to deal with…”

  Thatcher waited. “To deal with…?” he asked, imploring Persephone to go on. But she held up her hand instead.

  “Yes, matriarch,” Persephone said, placing one hand on her ear. “This is Persephone speaking.” She paused. “Oh, silly me. Of course you’d know who you were sending a message to. I wasn’t thinking.” She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Uh-huh. Yes. Yes. No, I haven’t seen a baby phoenix leave your nest.” A few seconds later, her face paled. “No! There’s no issue at all! I’m sure your baby just went out for a little walk, err, flight.”

  Thatcher’s eyes bulged, and he seized Persephone’s shoulders. Spittle flew onto her face as he shouted, “What do you mean there’s no issue at all!? Tell her about the undead!”

  Persephone’s mouth fell open, and she blinked a few times. “Oh, um, matriarch. There might be a tiny issue with the forest—a minor one, really. There seem to be a few souls who’ve been given a second chance by Gaea who’re appreciating the beauty of nature in all its glory.”

  Thatcher’s expression darkened as a tired-sounding voice rang out of Persephone’s forehead. It sounded ancient yet young, fierce yet gentle. And it said, “Persephone, really? Speak clearly, you nitwit.”

  Persephone flinched and bit her lower lip. “Skeletons have invaded the forest.”

  Thatcher and Persephone held their breaths, waiting for the matriarch’s response. A few seconds later, a massive pillar of flames rose up in the distance. Even from within the tree, they could feel the heat from the flames. “Watch over my children,” the ancient yet young voice said as a blazing blur flew over their heads. A dozen feathered, chirping bundles fell from the sky, gliding down into the hollow tree.

  One of the baby phoenixes cried out, “Ah! It’s Percy! Everyone, scatter!”

  Thatcher turned towards Persephone as all the phoenixes rushed out of the tree in different directions. “Do they not like you?”

  Persephone bit her lower lip as her face turned red. She hung her head and muttered, “I tried bathing them once. In the river.”

  “Dear lord,” Thatcher said, staring at Persephone, who was avoiding his gaze. “It’s a miracle how this colony hasn’t collapsed yet. Did I make the right choice in moving here…?”

  ***

  Tafel hummed as she approached a deep pit in the ground. It was ringed by pointy red rocks, looking much like a gaping maw. As she got closer, wailing sounds crept into her mind, but she dismissed it as the sounds of the wind. The baby phoenix standing on her horns peered over her head, blinking at the abyss below. It opened its mouth and chirped. “Um. Scary.”

  “Scary?” Tafel asked, rolling her eyes up to look at the phoenix. It was as round as a ball, engorged with as much lava as it wanted to drink. “I think it’s quite relaxing, no?” She crouched by the edge of the hole, and a glowing red eye stared back up at her. A deep growling sound sent chills down the baby phoenix’s spine. It shivered as Tafel extended her arm towards the bottom of the pit. “How was it, Spitty? Did the tears taste good?”

  “Good!” a raspy voice replied.

  Tafel flinched and nearly dropped the blade she had just picked up. “Did..., did you say something?” she asked the phoenix on her head. The phoenix rapidly shook its head back and forth before burying itself underneath strands of her hair. Tafel bit her lower lip as she drew the purple sword out of the pit. “Spitty?”

  The eye on the sword blinked. “Yes?”

  Tafel furrowed her brow. “The book said you’d see an improvement after consuming the tears of those in despair,” she said. “It never said anything about you learning to speak.”

  The sword let out a strange grunting noise. “Improvement. I can chant your spells for you,” Spitty said. Tafel tried to find the source of the sound, but she couldn’t. Perhaps it was similar to Mr. Skelly’s ability to talk without his skull. “Can also chant the same spell as you to double cast.”

  “Oh, that’s pretty neat,” Tafel said with a nod. “Did anything else change?”

  “No,” Spitty said, its eye half-closing. “But, please, change my name.”

  Tafel tilted her head. “You don’t like Spitty?” she asked. “Then how about Sharpy?”

  “Dangerous copyrights,” Spitty said. “Something else.”

  “Dangerous what?” Tafel asked, raising an eyebrow. “Then … Swordy?”

  “Something that doesn’t start with S and end with Y,” Spitty said and sighed. “I am not a pet.”

  “You’re awfully picky, aren’t you?” Tafel asked with a scowl. “Picky?”

  “Ends with a Y.”

  Tafel sighed, and she prodded the phoenix hiding in her hair with a finger. “What’s a good name for this sword?”

  The phoenix popped its head out of her hair. “Is it male or female?”

  Tafel’s expression darkened. “It’s a sword.”

  “Then name it Chi’Rururp,” the phoenix said. “It means sword in phoenix.”

  “Huh,” Tafel said and blinked. “I guess it makes sense for phoenixes to have their own language. So why do you know this one?”

  The phoenix shuddered. “Percy taught it to me.”

  “Percy? Who’s that?”

  “A bad person! She tried to drown me, so I ran away!”

  “Chi’Rururp sounds nice,” Spitty said. “Address me as such from now on.”

  “Alright, Chi’Rururp,” Tafel said as she strapped the sword to her back. “The next step is to shave a red-headed elf. The longer the hair, the better the effects.”

  “Percy has red hair!” the phoenix said. “Shave her. She’s always hanging around Mom like a sticky piece of poop.”

  “You really don’t like this Percy fellow, huh?” Tafel asked, tickling the phoenix’s belly with her finger. “But if she’s always hanging around your mom, won’t your mom get angry at me?”

  “No.” The phoenix wiggled its body and shook its head. “Percy annoys Mom too.”

  Tafel hummed and nodded. “That’s good then. Now—”

  “Tafel! There you are,” a skeleton said as it burst through a patch of shrubs. “Hurry back to the main camp; a phoenix is on its way. It might have already arrived. Normally, we wouldn’t be this concerned since we’re already dead, but Alice isn’t. Unless things have changed during the time it took me to get here. Ah, but if Alice died, then she and the leader could…, Tafel?” The skeleton looked around, but Tafel had already disappeared in a flash of silver light. It clacked its teeth together before running back in the direction it came from. “You could’ve teleported me as well, you know?”

  Back at the camp, a silver ring appeared on the ground by Alice’s tent. Seconds later, Tafel materialized above it along with the phoenix, who was trying to maintain its balance. Flames engulfed the surroundings, but surprisingly, the trees and grass weren’t on fire. The flames seemed to have a mind of their own, leaving the forest untouched but burning the air inside of it. Above her, a massive red bird glided around in circles, occasionally letting out clear cries.

  “It’s Mom,” the phoenix chirped. It flapped its wings, but it was too fat to get off of Tafel’s head. “Water weight! Too heavy.”

  “Emile! Is that you?” an ancient yet young voice asked. The phoenix in the sky swooped down, landing in front of Tafel.

  “Mom!” the baby phoenix said and hopped up and down. “This is Tafel. She’s really nice. Can you make her my sister?”

  The phoenix matriarch blinked b
efore glaring at Tafel. “What did you do to my baby!? He’s so round!”

  Tafel coughed and adverted her gaze. “That wasn’t me.” She lowered her head. “It’s nice to meet you, matriarch. Emile’s told me a lot about you.”

  The phoenix matriarch squinted and leaned closer to Tafel. “What are you? A mix between elves and a fairy?”

  “Mom!” Emile said, flapping his wings while puffing his chest out. “Stop ignoring me!”

  “I’m a demon,” Tafel said. “There’s none on this continent, so it’s not a surprise you’ve never seen someone like me before.”

  The phoenix matriarch nodded. “A different continent,” she said. “I’m also not from around here.” She sighed and shook her head. The air continued to burn while the tents housing the captive elves were set ablaze. The elves screamed, but they stopped when they realized the flames weren’t going to hurt them.

  “Mom!” Emile said, flapping his wings.

  “Anyways,” Tafel said, clearing her throat. “May I ask why you’re burning everything? Are you here for your child? He decided to follow me one day; I swear I didn’t kidnap him.”

  The phoenix matriarch cocked her head to the side. “Other than my son, do you know any other phoenixes?”

  “Mom….”

  “Yes, my stepdaughter-in-law,” Tafel said and pursed her lips. “And her daughter. Kind of.”

  “Hmm, I see,” the phoenix matriarch said with a nod. “I actually came here to purge the undead. I think I got most of them.”

  Tafel looked around. A dozen charred skeletons littered the ground. Most of them? she thought. You barely burnt any and they’re not even really dead. She bit her lower lip. “Yup, looks like you got most of them,” she said. “I don’t see any around. Did you see a human by any chance? She wears glasses, has brown hair, and is a little on the short side.”

  “I didn’t,” the matriarch said, shaking her head. She glanced around, and the elves prostrated themselves before her. “Well, it looks like my work here is done.”

  “Mom!” Emile shouted. “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!”

  The phoenix matriarch heaved a sigh. “What is it, Emile?”

  “Can you make Tafel my sister?” Emile asked as he sat on Tafel’s head, his little talons sticking out over her forehead. “She’s a good person. I like her. Take her home, please.”

  “We’ll see,” the phoenix matriarch said and furrowed her brow. She glanced at Tafel. “I’m going back to my nest. Would you like to come along?”

  “Of course!” Tafel said with a smile. The time she spent manipulating the baby phoenix wasn’t wasted. “I’d be happy to.”

  Moments after Tafel was whisked away by the phoenix matriarch, a skull and a head full of brown hair popped out of the ground. Alice turned towards Mr. Skelly. “You’re going to let her leave just like that?” she asked after spitting out a clump of dirt.

  “It’s her choice; she’ll be fine,” Mr. Skelly said. “Besides, if she dies, she can join us in being fleshless.” Hundreds of skeletons climbed out of the ground and seized the elves that had been freed mere moments ago. “But it looks like we’ve overstayed our welcome in the forest. There wasn’t even a chance to talk to that bird before she tried to kill me, how unreasonable. I guess we’ll have to breach the dwarves’ defense with a different method now that the south has been closed off to us.”

  25

  Erin pouted as she hovered in the air in front of Lindyss’ face, close enough to be a nuisance but far enough to avoid being swatted. The fairy queen’s eyes narrowed, and she hummed, creating a sound like a swarm of crickets chirping. The sound started off low but grew louder over time; however, Lindyss acted like she hadn’t heard it, flipping the pages of the book on the table in front of her at a constant pace. From nearby, a dwarven girl looked between the two while biting her lower lip, but in the end, the only thing the dwarf could do was return to her job and restock the library’s bookshelves.

  Lindyss sighed as she reached the last page of the book. Before Erin could react, the corrupted elf leaned forward, swatted the fairy queen down into the book, and attempted to close the back page. “Gah! You murderous woman!” Erin shouted as she slipped out at the last second. “Who raised you!? Didn’t your parents ever teach you manners?”

  Lindyss ignored the stares coming from the nearby dwarves as she pushed the book to the edge of the table and stood up. She wandered towards a section in the back of the library while the dwarven girl took the book Lindyss left behind and stowed it onto her pushcart. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people?” Erin asked, darting in and poking Lindyss’ cheek before darting back out.

  “I’m an orphan; no one raised me,” Lindyss said and swatted at the fairy.

  Erin blinked, and her wings froze in the air behind her. A second later, her eyes lit up as if a lightbulb had appeared over her head. “That explains everything!” she said. “Why didn’t you say so sooner, you numbnut?”

  Lindyss rolled her eyes as she arrived in a dimly lit area beneath a massive staircase that led up to the second floor. The dwarves weren’t good at using mana, so anything related to it had been stowed away in the worst spot of the library. A small orb of light appeared above Lindyss’ fingertip, illuminating the book covers. She murmured to herself as she ran her finger down the spines of each book, enunciating each word slowly. It had only been a week since she learned how to read dwarven.

  “You still haven’t found what you’re looking for?” Erin asked, frowning at the sight of Lindyss browsing through the section at a snail’s pace. “What are you looking for anyway?”

  “Ways to improve someone’s mana recovery,” Lindyss said, continuing to browse the books. “There’s lots of ways to increase someone’s mana pool, but that just delays the inevitable. If Vur wants to maintain the form of a dragon fulltime, it doesn’t matter how much mana he has if his recovery can’t keep up with the usage rate.”

  Erin furrowed her brow. “How can a heartless woman like you do so much for someone else?” she asked. “That boy wasn’t even an elf. You’ve been here for a week already! People are meant to live outside in the sun, not inside a library, rotting away like a dead pumpkin.” She shook her head before sighing. She flew over Lindyss and pointed at a book above her. “This one. Try it.”

  Lindyss tilted her head and stared at Erin for a second before grabbing the book she recommended. She ran her finger over the words, reading out loud, “How to build a ladder.”

  “No!” Erin shouted while Lindyss glared at her. “You’re reading it wrong! How do you even translate the characters for build and ladder incorrectly!? The characters look nothing like a builder or ladder!” Erin flew out from underneath the staircase, returning moments later with a dictionary. “Look! Try again!”

  “Please, don’t shout in the library,” the dwarven girl said and lowered her head.

  “Polymorph!” Erin shouted, pointing at the poor girl, transforming her into a rabbit. “No one tells Erin Koller what she can or can’t do!”

  “Oh,” Lindyss said while blinking her eyes. “You’re right. It’s actually increase and internal recovery, not build and ladder. I guess I have to discard everything I’ve learned over the past week.” She sighed before taking both the dictionary and the book, heading back to her seat. Her brow furrowed as a rabbit hopped out of her way. “Animals are allowed in the library?”

  Erin shrugged. “Beats me,” she said and hovered after Lindyss, ignoring the tears forming in the rabbit’s eyes. “And you didn’t answer my question. Why are you doing so much for that boy? Don’t tell me you love him or something sappy like that.”

  “He’s like the child I can never have,” Lindyss said, pushing the fairy away from her face with her palm. “Why are you so nosy? Don’t you have better things to do?”

  “It’s a fairy’s nature to be nosy,” Erin said with a nod. “As for better things to do…, I don’t because someone drank my fountain!”

  “Make another
one,” Lindyss said and rolled her eyes.

  “That takes years,” Erin said while pouting.

  “Sounds like you have it rough,” Lindyss said as she sat down, placing her books on the table. “Poor you. Then why are you hanging around me instead of going off to work on building another fountain?”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of procrastinating?” Erin asked. “I should be building that fountain, but I’ve found something much more entertaining to do.”

  “Bugging me?” Lindyss asked, opening her book and frowning at the dust cloud that came out of it. She swept it away with a flick of her fingers, summoning a gentle breeze. “How very entertaining.”

  Erin shook her head as she landed on the edge of the table. “I don’t get why that boy even wants to become a dragon. No one likes turning into something they’re not. It’s like how you only used four of your limbs when I turned you into an octopus.” Her brow furrowed. “I just don’t get how he learned to fly so quickly. Humans don’t have invisible wings they’re hiding from us, right?”

  Lindyss raised an eyebrow at the fairy queen. “You didn’t notice his dragon imprint?”

  Erin blinked. “His what?”

  “Like I thought,” Lindyss said with a nod. “Fairies are useless.”

  “I was tired! And out of mana! And really angry at the time!” Erin stood up and stomped her feet against the table. “But don’t tell me he was really imprinted by a dragon.” She bit her lower lip as Lindyss ignored her, resuming her studies. “Hey. Hey. Was he really?”

  Lindyss sighed. “You were also in a car with him for two whole weeks. Your excuses mean nothing.”

  “He was asleep for thirteen and a half days,” Erin said. “And there was a huge dragon already behind us being pulled along like a dead log! How am I supposed to notice a dragon imprint under those circumstances?” She scratched her head and took her seat on the edge of the table again. She muttered to herself, “Then wouldn’t he be as strong as a real dragon when polymorphed into one?” She shivered at the sight of the faint smile that appeared on Lindyss’ lips.