The site chosen for it was a peak of Mt. Silvian, the neighbor to the dragon�s Mt. Cornelius. However, it farther down the slope since the fire-mages had no control of weather like the dragons and therefore could not ward off the vicious storms that swept the upper slopes. The city grew rapidly under these more favorable conditions and was modeled like a smaller Shavasta.
The only difference was that the houses themselves had to be built before the walls were in order to accommodate the growing number of fire-mages who were fleeing their persecution. By the time the walls were ready to be built, a mage from the Order of the Dove by the name of Rotag had received word from unknown sources about the building of the city. The mage had promptly led an army of mages and warriors up Mt. Silvian and slaughtered 100 fire-born men, women, and children and scattered the remaining 150. The city itself was destroyed.
A similar expedition was led up Mt. Cornelius to make sure that no colonies of the dragon-mages were left, but the treacherous slopes and fierce storms of the mountain soon drove the army back down before reaching Shavasta.
Until now, however, dragon-kind had heard very little from their relations other than a few venturous ones who visited now and again. But the trip was long and hard and not many made it. Lora herself was even an honorary aunt to a pair of her dearest friends� daughter but hadn�t seen the girl in over 5 years when the child was 2 years old. The rare yet welcome occurrence of a visit from a dragon-mage was one of the only things that could bring all the dragons in Shavasta out of their homes in the dead of night. Still, despite this happy prospect, Lora could not shake the feeling of anxiety that blanketed her mind.
Circling over the high walls, the blue dragon scanned the ramparts for a place to land. They were so packed with the bulky forms of dragons that she couldn�t even see the color of the stone beneath their scaled feet. Seeing a trio of young dragons clustered together, however, she glided down to hover over them. Their wings were new, the scales still shone brightly in the starlight, untouched by time, and so they much younger than herself. This meant that she had privilege over them.
Lora flew lower and blew a gust of wind at them with a strong sweep of her wings, causing all three of them to look up. Bowing in unison, two of them moved to one side while the third flew off, making just enough room for a comfortable landing space. She blessed the advantages of age while at the same time remembering the disadvantages as her bones creaked when she landed too harshly on the hard stone.
Ignoring the chatter of those around her, Lora peered intently out into the mist that shrouded the mountain city. She narrowed her eyes to get a better view and just barely made out a faint silhouette in the whiteness. Shadowy wings sprouting out of slender black shape pumped the thin air laboriously. Their movement caused the fog to dip and swirl like a flock of birds when a hawk dives into their midst. The body attached the wings was strangely distorted by a bulge that was held in front of it.
�Who is it, Lora?� asked a deep voice which rolled like warm honey despite being husky with exhaustion and lost sleep. The familiar sound soothed her nerves and she smiled for an instant.
�I can�t see, Marius, the fog is too heavy.� The midnight dragon replied mildly. Turning to her mate, Lora noticed with amusement that the two remaining younglings had left, having been displaced by Marius.
Marius turned outward, as well, and squinted in an echo of Lora�s previous motion. After considering for a moment, he took a deep breath and then blew out softly, weaving his power into the sigh. Mist swirled and parted in an unnaturally straight and smooth corridor, the shadowy form flying toward them at its end. The flames hovering overhead cast their light into the now-clear area, turning the inside an eerie red color. Now all the dragons on the wall top could see clearly the features of the visitor�s face.
Milky white skin sheeted with sweat was lined with creases of pain and exhaustion. Long black hair framed the feminine face, beautiful once but now only a picture of suffering. Almond-shaped yellow eyes were clouded but filled with desperation and renewed determination at the sight of the dragons crowded on the walls. A green cloak covered her shoulders and enclosed a bundle carried in front of her and held on to as though to let go was to accept death. One side of the wrapping was stained a dark crimson and the source of the color dripped down off the hem of the robe to disappear into the insubstantial fog below.
Lora drew a sharp breath as recognition dawned on her. A similar sound from her mate confirmed her suspicions. Whispers ran through the crowd like dry leaves in the wind, as those in front relayed what was happening to those behind. A single name was passed from neighbor to neighbor like a mantra.
�Astarra.� Lora breathed, her eyes riveted on the horrible scene before her, unable to move.
heads. They rushed to their friend�s side and Lora lowered her nose to press the woman�s cheek softly.
�Astarra? Astarra, my friend, what happened to you?� the female dragon asked, her midnight blue form melting into the darkness of night.
�Aunt Lora?� A small, childlike voice answered her instead of Astarra�s own, but they were similar, muffled though the first was, �Is that you?� it continued, �Mother, are we here now?�
�Yes, Tavia, love, we�re here.� Astarra answered, her voice coated with pain, exhaustion, and relief. She gave the bundle in her arms a final, reassuring pat before releasing it so that the cloak spilled open to reveal a child of 7 years, her arms wrapped around her mother�s chest. The small girl turned her head, looking Lora straight in the eye with relief and hope, and immediately the female dragon was struck by how much her adopted niece had grown.
Untangling her tanned arms from the cloak, she knelt next to her mother�s prone form and rolled her onto her back, �Momma, the dragons are here. They can help you, momma.� Tavia murmured faithfully, setting Astarra�s head into her tiny lap. Flakes of falling snow dotted her black hair that so resembled her mother�s, making the tresses look like a reflection of the bright stars in the night sky above.
Next Page -->