Dragoon
On the planet Yand in Ursa Minor. Active thinking in italics. “Mindspeak in italics within quotes.” Dragonlord’s (Drace’s) POV.
I was eight when my grandad, the Dragon of Yand, gave me a dragon egg. Its color was a muted purple, but it was also translucent, now beaming, now darkling, always returning to that purplish-grey hue. It hatched a purplish-grey dragonet I named Lavender. We bonded before she cracked her shell.
When I got my wings later that same year, my mom, the dragon’s bio daughter, took us to the dragon for instruction in magic. He taught us much, and we bonded keenly with him. He became our beloved grandad. You didn’t need to look far to find us. Always at the dragon’s lair.
Everyone called me a prodigy. At nine, my mom, our planet’s Worldmaker, passed the leadership of the world’s Mage Force to me. That same year, our intergalactic enemy, the K’tul, destroyed our outpost on our moon Ios. A Yendal mage boy, an extreme teleporter stationed there, managed to teleport the few survivors to safety. I met him in my home’s infirmary.
He huddled with his sister as medics worked to clean their extensive burns. Yendai are a different species than us Yandar: slightly smaller, non-winged, with exotic luminous eyes and bright auras. The boy looked so small and scared, crying softly over his sister. It moved me to take his hand.
He turned and stared, his reflective eyes filled with tears. He had been trying to absorb his sister’s pain, but Yendai are not empaths; they’re telepaths, and his efforts were for not. We Yandar are empaths. I passed my hand over the girl’s face, transferring some of her pain onto myself.
It assaulted me with searing intensity, causing me to lose my balance, and the boy steadied me. I wrapped an arm around his waist to comfort him as my mom arrived and took charge. From that moment, I knew that this Yendal boy, Rel, who clung to my arm for comfort, would become my lifelong friend and companion.
We became inseparable and took to calling ourselves Dragoons, the worlds’ strongest mages.
When I turned sixteen, the K’tul breached our planetary shield with small atmospheric ships. They fired from the skies, destroying villages and killing everything in their path. Rel returned to Yenda to lead the moon’s Mage Force, leaving me behind to command Yand’s.
My military duties kept me busy. Anticipating an all-out attack from the K’tul, we began evacuating remote communities, mountain villages, and hamlets scattered around planet and moon, bringing the population under the protection of our shielded cities. I led the endless teleportation of civilians on Yand, while Relly did the same on the moon, a world apart from me.
I missed him dearly. We had spent our childhood and teenage years dividing our time between the planet and the moon. My worldmaker mom or sister wormholed us to and from. Everything I did was with Rel—we learned spells together, trained the mages, and got drunk together. I knew his favorite foods and colors, and half of his wardrobe was in my closet. He was flamboyant, a rascal, and filled the world. But now, we were worlds apart.
Thankfully, Rel and I were the strongest telepaths in the worlds, and our friendship was so strong that we could mindspeak each other across the distance. During the next few days of false peace, after each day’s evacuations came to a stop, we would settle for a few hours and talk about random, mundane things. There was nothing more comforting than Rel’s voice in my mind. But even that didn’t last.
Five days after the first attack, four bigger K’tul atmospheric ships, courier class, broke through our planetary shields. Although smaller than the massive K’tul motherships, the couriers were plenty. They could fire from a much higher altitude, and they had celestial cannons.
I led the Mage Force from Dragonslair, the capital of Yand in the East. Half the planet’s population sheltered here, the other half under Riverqueen’s dome in the West. My sister Asimia led the Western Mage Force from there. Mom had gone to help Yenda, as the moon was more exposed to the K’tul approach. She assumed command of the Yendal Mage Force in the West, while Rel led the East from Tradewell.
In horror, I watched the K’tul ships drop into our skies. One of the couriers reached firing altitude over Dragonslair, unleashed its celestial cannons, and filled the heavens with fire.
I burst through the city’s shield with Lav, calling orders to my unit: “First unit. Staggered blast attack.”
They rocketed after me into the skies. We intercepted the enemy ship at an incredibly high altitude. We had drilled extensively on high-altitude aerial mage combat, but this was higher.
In tight formation, we targeted the ship and struck it with all our combined strength. It felt impossible to breathe. We held our breaths and blasted. As I winged frantically, gasping for air, my thoughts shifted to Rel, who could only hold his breath for eight minutes.
“Focus, Drace,” Lavender shouted in my mind. “Relly can breathe after.”
We got the courier’s attention. It turned about and targeted us. Fires streaked across the sky, dancing all around us. We dodged haphazardly, blasting non-stop, struggling to stay in formation and combine. Instead, the living inferno engulfed us and blew us apart. From below, I could hear the booms as the city’s shield deflected the blasts that got past us. It was already a mess.
Mages’ personal shields were failing all around me. The air became hot and noxious—it was impossible to breathe, maneuver, and blast all at once, let alone maintain formation.
“Hold,” I yelled in my group’s heads, “a few more moments.”
The next unit rose to relieve us. I had never felt so good to see Constantine, my second. He burst through the city shield with his mages, blasting as they cleared altitude.
“Dive,” I yelled to my group, “regenerate your shields.”
Then to Constantine, “It’s hot, be careful.”
And to the moon, “Rel, remember to breathe!!”
I spent the next five minutes with my group under the city’s dome, regenerating our personal shields and filling our lungs with oxygen. Then, back to the skies to relieve Constantine.
We fought crazy rounds like that, hearts in our mouths and fires in our hands. To my horror, the courier dispatched landing ships. We targeted them, but many passed us and put boots to the ground.
“Here they come, Hawk,” I yelled to my brother, who was commanding the Flyers in the field below, waiting for my cue to launch. “I’m sorry, man.”
“I see them,” he replied. “Can you pass us out of the shield?”
“I’d have to lower it.”
“Leave it.”
A second courier dropped. Now, we had to fight two couriers when half of our force had perished, and the rest suffered from hypoxia. There were too few of us for a staggered attack, but we still needed to refill our lungs and recharge our personal shields.
“Lavender, ready? I asked my dragon. “You and me?”
“Bring it!” she replied. “Remember to breathe.”
As Constantine and the remaining mages ducked under the dome to recharge, my dragon and I hung in the heavens and continued to blast the K’tul ships. My brain danced on its own, directing my actions. I don’t know how I moved so fast or blasted twelve mages’ worth of fire. My dragon combined with me beyond that normal spell. We had joined.
I had never seen Lavender fiercer or more savage. As the second courier ship aimed its full firepower at us, we dodged in maddening spirals and impossibly continued to blast it. But suddenly, Rel’s screams pierced my brain.
“Drace! Breathe!”
I was falling! Already at a much lower altitude, I was dropping like a stone.
“Drace, Drace!” the screams persisted from the moon.
I caught a downbeat of my wings. I took a breath.
“Lavender, breathe!” I shouted.
She was gasping beside me. Our lungs had exploded. We hovered, hugging each other mentally, replenishing our oxygen.
Then right back into the battle.
“Drace! Breathe, breathe!” Rel still screamed in my head.
“I’m good, Rel. You breathe, too!”
Constantine and the mages rocketed through the shield to join me. So few!
“Hold your fire,” I yelled to them. “To me, combine.”
They spread out to cover the space, combining their personal shields to envelop me as mine had been shredded. In sparse formation, dodging fires, we advanced and encircled one of the K’tul couriers. We turned with it, teased it, deflected its cannon blasts.
We held our fireworks for a few moments, building our charge until we had a roaring inferno on our fingertips. At my signal, we discharged onto the courier, sustaining the blast… one more heartbeat…
It exploded spectacularly, showering the heavens with smoldering debris.
Then down under the city’s dome to breathe again. I frantically touched Relly’s mind, but he didn’t respond. I went crazy. I had already gotten in trouble when he was the one who couldn’t hold his breath.
“Rel?” I called again.
“Drace?”
“Oh, thank the gods. What are you doing?”
“Breathing. I got another minute to my next go. Did you get your courier?”
“Yes. You?”
“Yes! And your mom got two more, haha. Boom!”
His imitation of three K’tul ships exploding in the skies burst vividly in my head, complete with trailing fireworks and flaming debris. Flamboyant rascal. But it made me smile.
“Save your breath, silly,” I told him.
“Who’s silly?”
Constantine’s mindvoice sharply pulled me back from the moon.
“My liege, we need you,” he screamed in my head.
“Hold your formation, Constantine; I’m coming,” I replied.
“Rel, be careful,” I sent to the moon.
“You be careful, Drace. Breathe! Don’t make me come get you,” Rel replied.
As I rejoined the battle in the skies, I realized that our desperate
heroics were not enough. We needed much stronger power: my mom’s worldmaker strength. She got two couriers on the moon, but why not a bigger bend? She had to destroy the motherships that deployed the couriers! What held her back?
Suddenly, my mom’s wormhole signature rang clear. She was returning to Yand! My heart lifted, but only for a moment. Just as abruptly, cold, gut-wrenching fear seized my body. I lost contact with her! Frantically, I tried to reach my sister, but she was gone too!
Cold sweat ran from my brow. More down my back. As the planet’s two worldmakers were lost, we and the worlds were lost.
At that same moment, Rel’s mindscream, filled with horror, shredded my mind.
“Drace!”
“Rel!” I yelled back, desperate, feeling the moment’s helplessness clench my heart.
I was so far from him with no way to reach him. I could teleport anywhere on Yand but not to the moon.
“Answer me, Relly! Please!”
“The shields are down!” came his shrill reply.
A loud explosion behind me. Fire landed inside the dome, raking the military field. People ran aimlessly, screaming in panic. I scrambled to regain my bearings, but chaos surrounded me at every turn. Bodies were blown to bits as screams filled my ears.
“Drace, take charge!” Lav yelled, throwing a shield over me.
“Drace, Mom and Simi nulled each other,” Hawk shouted in my mind. “Regroup the mages. Fight on. I’m mounting an aerial.”
I turned to my mages, but they were in chaos. At my wits’ end, I mindcalled the Dragon of Yand.
“Grandfather, help us! Please!”
I held my breath. One heartbeat.
Two.
On the third, beyond all hope, a roar echoed from the skies. It was my beloved grandfather, the dragon, answering my call!
Lavender shot up to meet him, and I launched after her.
“Get ready, Dragonlord,” Grandad commanded. “On my mark, blast the white fire.”
That would be lightning.
He drew one of the couriers’ fire and returned it with his own onto the metal hull. It took all my flying skills to stay aligned with the dragon at that altitude, waiting for his signal. In spirals, dives, and curlies—it was all I could do to fly. Could I also blast? Without a breath?
“When I come about, Dragonlord,” the dragon boomed.
He came about, bringing the K’tul ship over me. Its blast cannons trained at Grandad but then turned to me with incredible agility.
“Now!” the dragon’s voice thundered in my head.
I loosed a stream of lightning straight into those canons as they blasted me. My lightning laced around them, spilling onto the courier’s metal hull, as Lav spewed more lightning from her mouth. I imagined K’tul screams as our lightning spread to the ship’s vitals, crippling it, shorting its controls. It could no longer blast us. Impotent, it yielded to the dragon’s fires, bursting into a giant fireball, blinding all who beheld it.
I dropped to a lower altitude and breathed.
“Lav, breathe!” I yelled to my dragon, then in everyone’s mind, loud enough to deafen all the way to the moon, “Use lightning blasts.”
Below me, Constantine rallied the mages. The dragon unleashed his fire onto the second courier, the mages tight-winging beside him, blasting their combined lightning. Lav and I mirrored the attack on the ship’s other side. It, too, blew in a blinding fireball and a deafening boom.
Cheers erupted from the field below us. But before we could catch our breaths, two K’tul motherships dropped into our skies. They blocked out the sun and cast us into darkness. One descended to firing altitude and loosed devastation on us, the military field, the city, the world.
My mind’s ears filled with screams from all over planet and moon. In no more than a heartbeat, the city burst into flames. It burned; everything burned. The dragon took severe hits and fell from the sky.
Impossibly, my brother and his Flyers launched after the mothership, filling the skies with wings and arrows. In formation, like a living blanket, unit after unit surrounded the ship, shooting non-stop.
But what could explosive arrows do against the thundering hulk of metal more giant than the city itself? The Flyers’ formations failed; the K’tul cannons blew them apart. Hawk rallied the Flyers, reformed them, and resumed the attack with whatever strength he had left.
Lav and I flew before them, throwing what shields we could their way, lightning flying from my hands, our eyes, her mouth. The Dragon of Yand rose again, then Constantine and the handful of mages.
The second mothership dropped to altitude, opened fire on the city, and there you had it. We continued to blast hopelessly—those of us who could still fly, who could still blast. I dodged in erratic spirals, desperate to breathe, blasting mindlessly. My body a lighting channel, my hands seared and smoking.
One by one, our mages fell from the sky. All that was left in the air were the two dragons and me. And impossibly a last unit of Flyers led by my brother Hawk.
My hands burned. Despair filled my heart. On its own, it turned to Rel. Would I ever see him again?
A K’tul fireball struck my personal shield, knocking me off my marks. Lavender flew under me to break my fall, and we tumbled together in wild twirls. I struggled to right myself. As I fell, the city fell. There was no other defense left. It was me, and I was failing.
Suddenly, a loud voice boomed in my brain, “She lives, my boy!”
It was the Dragon of Yand, my beloved grandfather. In the same instant, the city shields were restored!
It was my mom! She had regained her power. Through our bond, I watched her streak into the sky with her sword, Bite This, raised to the sun. Frantically, I mindcalled the troops and civilians alike, broadcasting my command across the planet and the moon to all who could hear me.
“To cover all! Constantine, Hawk, a bend is coming. Rel!”
We dived to the ground, shielding our eyes. Above us, my mom bent the sun, unleashing a violent flare tsunami. She turned the flares into lightning and loosed them at the K’tul spaceships, targeting them one by
one. One by one, they exploded, burst in our skies like so many fireworks.
“Rel?” I called to the moon.
“I’m good,” the moon replied, “you?”
Oh, I could kiss him. But he sounded so… beat up? Injured?
“Drace?”
“I’m good. The K’tul ships?”
“Your mom blew them out of our skies.”
“Are you hurt, Relly? Don’t lie to me.”
“No.”
“Liar!”
“I’m good, silly, but… it’s a mess up here. Go find your mom.”
“Go, Drace,” Constantine added aloud. “I’ll take charge here.”
I teleported Lavender and me to my mom’s location. I arrived just in time to witness a wormhole with her signature closing.
My mom’s bend essentially ended the war, but thousands of K’tul troops remained stranded in its aftermath. They had mages among them, some powerful elites. Many battles followed, spilling into the tight streets of our cities. We fought with both magic and swords—hand to hand from door to door, structure to structure, ruin to ruin.
Yand had suffered devastating damage. The K’tul had reduced our cities to ruins and the countryside to rubble. Throughout this chaos, my mom the Worldmaker was missing. My sister Asimia lay wounded in the tatters of our home’s infirmary. She told me that after Mom destroyed the K’tul space fleet, she left our world to avoid another null. But where had she gone? I wanted to find her.
As bad as it was on Yand, the devastation on the moon was even worse. Yenda’s military struggled to defend the cities, despite the king personally leading the remnants of his Cavalry. It was sheer chaos. The mind screams from Rel for help escalated and drove me mad.
