February 24th, 3992
It was 10:45 in the morning, a bit later than I hoped but not unreasonably so. Things were a little different compared to last week, with Maggy now in attendance. She sat behind me, an imposing guardian spirit decked out in her tailor-made gold-green armor. She was talking with Batty about something or other before we started. I couldn't hear what they were talking about, but with their happy yellow scales and pretty little laughs, I knew that they were getting along, and made me happier than getting a dozen shrines and figurines.
"Morning, ladies and gentledrake," I began, "I declare that our second weekly Royal Council Meeting to be in session. Today I would like to welcome Captain Majestic of our newly formed Royal Guard. I believe her experience and insight will prove to be most beneficial for us."
"Agreed." Grandeur said. "I would like to motion that we include the Captain of the Royal Guard in all future meetings."
"I second the motion!" Batty declared, smiling and nodding at Maggy. The larger Rainwing returned the gesture.
"Alright then," I said, a bit surprised by this turn of events, "All in favor of making the Captain of the Guard a permanent member?"
Everyone except Flying Fox raised a paw. Everyone turned to him, looking surprised. He looked back at us, his scales turning a confused orange-purple. "What?" He asked. "Wait, do I get to vote here?"
"Yes," I told him, "You're here, you're part of this Council. You get to vote, just like everyone else."
"Oh, okay okay." Fox quickly raised his paw.
"Alright then, the vote is unanimous," I announced, "The motion passes. The Captain of the Guard is now a permanent member of this Council, with all the rights therein. Now, onto our first order of business. Grandeur, Majestic, how has the training of the Guard been going?"
Grandeur stood up. "I have come to the firm conclusion," She began, "That you aren't animus-touched solely because the spirits themselves fear what would happen if you gained that kind of power. With regards to the current state of our forces, I can only say that progress is beyond what even the most optimistic general of Pyrrhia could have hoped for. Majestic has thoroughly whipped our dragons into shape, and there are some who would be willing to serve abroad. The cult of personality developed within the Guard around your royal person, however, is something of a concern I have to the stability of the realm and security of this council. Nonetheless, I can confidently state that the Guard is at least the equal of the other armies of Pyrrhia, if not their better."
"All praise should be directed to you and Captain Majestic." I said, nodding and smiling at Maggy by my side. "You two managed to turn four hundred dragons into the best fighting force the world's ever seen." Maggy turned a bright gold, beaming with pride. Grandeur flashed yellow, accepting the compliment.
"As to your weapons," She continued, "A more wondrous or devastating piece of technology I cannot think of. Just yesterday, a charge of our one hundred best camouflagers failed to clear past just a single rapid-firing crossbow - or 'RFC', as some are calling them - without being darted! A dozen of these monsters could hold all the armies of Pyrrhia at bay with the right placing. Already, some of those on the leaderboard for tactical and strategic thinking have suggested the only way to avoid being wounded by an RFC would be to dig a trench or fly out of range. The wrist-blades are unfortunately not as spectacular, but, when made of sharpened wood steel, and laced with sedative, they can be quite effective with even minor incisions. I must say that the changes that have come to the RainWing armed forces cannot truly be quantified. We have gone from being the butt of Pyrrhia to possessing an army that could sweep aside the whole six tribes united against us, if it came to that. Perhaps it is not without justification that the Guard has built a shrine out of kiwi skins to 'Spirit Xero'. They tell me they are most eager to have you come inspect it."
"Oh, I've seen it." I sighed. "Let me ask you guys something: Should I put a stop to this worshipping business? I'm not sure I want my people getting the wrong idea about who and what I am."
"Yeah," Fox teased, "The last thing we need is for you to get an even bigger head, 'Mr. Super-Genius-Nice-King-Handsome-Dragon-Guy'."
"I don't believe praise is bad if it's earned." Majestic said, holding herself straighter as she looked at me. "Xero, we all know you're just a normal dragon like everyone else. But you have to admit, your achievements these past few weeks have been miraculous, magical even. You've earned their loyalty and respect. It'll keep you humble, so long as you put them first."
I nodded in agreement, seeing the wisdom in her words. I couldn't always control my subject's actions and beliefs, but I could control my own, and I would strive to make sure that I never bought into the hype they were saying about me.
"Fruit Bat," I inquired, "I take it that our efforts in increasing our food production and stockpile have been... fruitful?"
"Quite." She replied, though she rolled her eyes at my little joke. "By my current calculations, we have enough food that we could field over a thousand Rainwing soldiers. In addition, we also have enough stockpiles of dried and preserved fruit that we can start selling them as soon as you give your approval."
"Mmmm, excellent." I nodded. "What about weapons production?"
"The half-dozen blacksmiths in the Kingdom," Flying Fox said, "Have been forging springs and arrowheads when they aren't making all the other fancy inventions you've taught them to make. We have enough to make enough bows and bolts for all our soldiers, and a healthy reserve on top of that. Are we going to sell them with our fruit, too?"
"It's not out of the question." I admitted. "I made a deal with Queen Scarlet to keep the Seawings from travelling through her lands. As awful as she might be, she's proven to be a dragoness of her word, and as such I have to hold up my end of the bargain."
The others nodded in agreement. "Alright then," I said, after writing down some notes, "If no one has any other issues or reports, let's turn to foreign affairs. Have we heard anything from Agent Sparkling?"
"As a matter of fact," Splendor said, reaching into her bag, "His letter just came in this morning. If it pleases Your Grace, may I read it aloud for everyone in attendance?"
"By all means." I said. Splendor opened the letter, and began reading aloud:
"Your Majestic Holiness,
I cannot blame Your Majestic Holiness for having fled this dreary desert. There is nothing but sand, rocks, and more sand. How SandWings such as YMH can stand living here, I do not know. The only color to be found was the guava, lychee, and mango that I brought as part of my merchant's disguise, along with as much water as I could bear. You would have thought I was a Spirit such as YMH, given how they received me. I could no sooner land than they ripped the canteens off my back and set about taking gulps as if they would collapse into dust that very second. Not that that is not an exaggeration. Even Tempest herself wilts with the heat, and the SeaWings' scales grew dull and grey even in the little time I have spent with them.
Bribing the guards was trivial. I offered two lychees to a pair of guards because after I had offered just one, they had looked ready to kill each other over it. And so it was with a few well-placed pieces of fruit that I was able to buy myself unfettered access to the entirety of Blister's camp, aided by my camouflage.
It is at this point that I must apologize to YMH, for I exceeded by a fair measure Your wise and spirit-ordained decrees, to which I may only hope you are as forgiving as you are benevolent. You must understand, the opportunity was perfect. Smolder had finally challenged Blister for the throne, and, while he was a male, Blister no doubt decided to use the challenge as an excuse to cement her rule. Truly barbarous, I do not understand how one as understanding and civilized as YMH could come from such low roots, but that is for the Spirits to decide. At any rate, after they had gathered for their duel, I arrived close under camouflage, sitting upon a rock not three dragon-lengths away. The fight was intense, but, key for me, both had succeeded in piercing their armor, if only partially, with their stinger tails. With such an excuse, I used my blowgun and fired two darts, both equipped with that particularly lethal bad batch of Batty's. I was quite worried, since they both went stiff and fell over dead within the minute, but luckily the darts were too small, and broken away during combat, to be noticed, and they lack an alchemist such as YMH in order to correctly identify the poison responsible. I remain in the camp awaiting further orders, although I understand the consequences of my disobedience and await to be recalled to face my punishment.
May Your Majestic Holiness have mercy upon me and my soul,
Sparkling."
As she finished reading, I just sat there, dumbfounded. Was this some kind of joke? Was that little bastard trying to mock me? Did he think that this verbal fellatio would somehow mask that he overstepped his bounds in the worst possible way? That proclaiming me a god would somehow cover up the fact that he admitted to killing my best friend?
My claws dug into the wood of the table, my tail starting to curl up in an aggressive stance. I wanted to stab something with my tail. I wanted to set something on fire. I wanted to break something beneath my claws. Something, anything to deal with this anger and grief and pain within me.
"Well, shit." Fox sighed, turning to me. "I'm sorry, Xero. I know you and Smolder were friends."
"Yes," I sighed, rubbing my eyes, "He was... I hoped he'd be the one to turn things around."
"Sparkling certainly overstepped his bounds," Grandeur agreed remorsefully, "But at least he succeeded in his mission. He took out Blister, and now Coral doesn't have a reason to stay."
"There's still Scald and Singe," I pointed out, "And Tanwen is her cousin. If she really wanted to keep the Royal Line going and install a new puppet, she still has options. But at least none of them are as vindictive or cruel."
Splendor turned a light blue, her expression becoming worried. "Yeah," She said, "About that..."
You ever hear someone say "About that..." and immediately get hit with a migraine? "What happened?"
"Well," She said nervously, handing me a few news articles, "Things got worse after the duel. Like, a lot worse."
She wasn't kidding. The very next day, the Scorpion's Den had been turned into a bloodbath. Over the past week, shipments of food and water from the Sea Kingdom had been raided and intercepted by a militia group called "The Coven of the Night King". Having declared for Queen Nightshade, they'd unleashed a campaign of terror upon the Seawings, denying them precious resources, making them increasingly desperate.
You see, dragons are hardy species, able to handle many hardships. Icewings can survive great cold, Sandwings can endure blistering heat and long periods of starvation, Skywings have great flight endurance, you get the idea. Seawings, while having gills and spending much of their time underwater, can in fact go long periods of time without it. However, if water intake remains low for too long, and their hides begin to dry out, they can suffer from a condition known as "water sickness". Deny them water for long enough, and they enter a kind of feral rage, desperately going after anything they can drink or bathe in. This often will include other living beings, especially other dragons.
After spending a month fighting in the desert, when their third shipment of water failed to show, the Seawing troops all rushed to the wells within the Scorpion's Den, only to find them poisoned and contaminated. Someone had snuck in during the night, pouring all manner of deadly concoctions into the water, and by the time the Seawings had realized what had happened, nearly half of their number were puking and seizing, and were dead before noon. Those that survived succumbed to madness, and began attacking everyone and everything in sight, desperate for water and blood. They tore through the town, eventually making their way back to their own camp, and attacked everyone within, including the remaining Princes.
I felt like someone was grabbing and twisting my stomach. Hallowglide's militia was able to come in and put down the insane dragons, but by then it was too late. Scald, Singe and their entire entourage was slaughtered, torn apart like wild animals. Within two months, the entire Royal Family save for Blaze had died.
Of course, things didn't end there. With all the original Royal claimants gone, Hallowglide and Tanwen were already working to make things up with Queen Coral, as well as find a more suitable replacement (Tanwen in particular being considered, as a cousin of the defeated Sisters). At the same time, the town was left undefended, and a militia of three-hundred dragons waltzed in, claiming it in the name of Queen Nightshade. The name of this militia? The Coven of the Night King.
"What do we know about this 'Coven of the Night King'?" I asked, going through my notes. "I don't think I've heard of them before."
Splendor went through her papers, before finding what she was looking for. "Our informants tell us," She explained, "That they're based in the town of Crossroads. Most of the inhabitants are hybrids of one kind or another, though they've recruited several hundred Sandwings after the battles at the Palace and the Den. They're led by two dragons - a Nightwing-Rainwing dragoness named Dusk, and a Nightwing-Sandwing drake named Desperado. They worship an entity called 'The Night King', who seems to be based on the legend of the Darkstalker."
"Darkstalker?" Majestic asked. "Who's that?"
"I don't really know." Splendor admitted. "The most our informants could determine is that he's some kind of boogeyman for the Nightwings and Icewings. Why anyone would want to worship someone so spooky, I don't know, but to each their own. Anyways, Once the Seawings were killed, the Coven basically flew in and took over the Scorpion's Den unopposed."
Great, I thought sourly, My hatchingplace has been taken over by a cult. Well, I guess it's better than being burned to the ground.
But of course, that wasn't the end of the tragedies befalling my people. So many Sandwings had already been caught up in the war, and now the various armies and factions were looking to bolster their numbers with civilians and even young dragonets. Children that didn't willingly join one force or another were getting ripped from their mothers' arms, handed a spear or crossbow, and sent off to kill others. Recruitment was happening so often and so quickly that the Kingdom was running out of able-bodied dragons. Indeed, estimates had it that there were only 300 dragons of fighting age left within the Desert, and if the fighting continued, the Sandwing Tribe might be facing a population crash.
On top of all that, Queen Glacier of the Icewings called for a conference with Queens Scarlet and Moorhen, inviting both to her palace. While no one knew officially the reason as to why, it was likely that she was looking to legitimize her annexation of the northern border region, and maybe even take direct action against Nightshade and her forces.
I fell back into my throne. I felt like I'd been flying for hours and hours, absolutely drained, physically and emotionally. How did it come to this? How had things spiraled so far out of control?
Because you did this. Burn's voice echoed in my mind. Because you're just as much a villain as I am. More, even. I only harmed the dragons in front of me, but you've ruined the lives of thousands. Where's your glorious utopia now?
"Do we have any other news?" I griped, "Anything positive, perhaps?"
"Well," Splendor said, "We just received a letter from the Nightwings. The messenger said it was written by Queen Battlewinner herself."
The Council made noises of polite interest. I motioned for her to go ahead and open it. The letters sent to the other Queens earlier in the week had produced mixed results: While Scarlet had agreed to block the Seawings from travelling through her kingdom, Moorhen had outright dismissed my efforts for an alliance. Maybe Battlewinner would prove to be more reasonable? They were always the smartest tribe, after all.
Splendor read the last letter aloud, and my blood ran cold:
"To the Late Burn's lackey,
You have a lot of nerve to write to ME as an equal. To think that a bunch of lazy, horny jungle-lizards handing you a crown of flowers makes you a peer to a royal line dating back thousands of years and rule the greatest tribe in all of Phyrria is the gravest insult I can ever think of! You, a commoner from a crime-ridden cesspool, who abandoned your Princess and fled your home with your tail between your legs, just happen to fly into a jungle, and these pathetic excuses for dragons hand over their kingdom to the first foreigner even slightly better than themselves?
As if that wasn't despicable enough, we found one of your "merchants" snooping around the Sandwing Palace last night. It didn't take too much work to get them to break and tell us everything we needed to know. So let me give you our counteroffer: You can surrender your kingdom to us, or we can come and take it from you. Know that I'm not without mercy: If you surrender yourself quickly, I can make you my Court Scientist alongside Mastermind. He's taken an interest in your work, and has begged me not to send my assassins to take your 'kingdom' and your pitiful life.
You have five days to respond, before I send my soldiers after you. Any dragon that's caught resisting us will be terminated with extreme prejudice. Their blood will be on your claws, not ours.
Expect Us,
Queen Battlewinner of the Nightwings."
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I looked over to the nearby window, and for a moment I considered jumping through it, and flying as hard and as fast as I could. Maybe I could reach the Mud Kingdom before the Nightwings got here.
Was it cowardice? Yes, absolutely. But one must remember, back in those days, the Nightwings were viewed less as a Tribe, and more like a force of nature. They had already defeated the Seawing Army AND one of the Sandwing Armies. They could READ MINDS and SEE THE FUTURE, for Spirits' sake! How could I hope to beat them with my meager Rainwing Army?
I felt all their eyes on me. They expected a clever plan, some wise words for how Science and Reason would triumph over Superstition and the Supernatural. I had nothing. How could I defeat an enemy that could see my thoughts and know my plans before I make them? And what of my Kingdom, my subjects? My friends?
They're all going to die, you know. Burn's voice echoed in my mind, oily and poisonous like stinger venom. Do you really think that a few fancy toys and one month of training is going to make these lazy, fruit-eating fucks beat the most powerful force in all Phyrria? You will fail them as you failed me, Xero. They're lambs, stupidly following you to the slaughter. All because you were a liar and a coward and a traitor.
"Xero?" Maggy asked, coming into my peripheral, "What would you have us do?"
"Your Grace," Grandeur added, "What are your orders?"
Batty just looked at me, wide-eyed, her scales a fearful pale-green and white. Images of my first dream came to mind, of the Village on fire, of all them being burned and torn apart by black-scaled death.
We're not ready for this. I thought dreadfully.
No, you're not ready. A different voice - Smolder's voice - chided me. Not with that guilt weighing you down. Tell them what you need to, and clear your mind.
My paws balled into fists. I knew what I had to do, but Spirits damn it I wasn't going to tell all of them.
"Why don't we..." I started, rubbing my muzzle, "Why don't we take a quick break. Maggy, Batty, Grandeur, please stay. Everyone else, you may leave."
"Everyone else" being Fox and Splendor, they gave the dragonesses curious looks as they walked out. When it was just the four of us left in the meeting, I buried my face in my paws.
"Ladies," I sighed, staring down at the table because I couldn't bear looking any of them in the eye, "I haven't been completely honest with you. There's a reason why I came here, why I fled the desert."
I told them everything. Not just the stuff about Burn and her depravity, but what happened to Oasis. What I did to Oasis. How I framed an innocent dragon for a ghoulish crime and started this horrific war. How I'd killed another dragon on my boss's orders, and then flew away from everything I'd ever known like a coward rather than face the justice I deserved.
"...I shouldn't be your King." I finished. "I only bring death and failure in my wake. Either one of you would be a better Queen. I'm not... I'm not worthy of their loyalty." I closed my eyes, awaiting the judgement I knew I had coming.
"...Xero," Maggy began, "With all due respect, that's the biggest load of self-pitying crap I've ever heard." I looked up at her, surprised.
"You didn't have a choice with what you did," She continued, her scales an indignant pale orange, "Burn would've killed you if you failed. Blister would've killed you if you didn't fight back against the Guard. You would've died if you didn't leave when you did. Don't beat yourself up for doing what you had to do to survive."
"Maggy..." I started to say.
"We know you became King on a fluke." She cut me off, her voice stern. "If you were some kind of scumbag who wanted to bully and abuse us, you'd be gone and we'd go right back to having volunteer Queens taking turns. But we see how seriously you take this job. We see all the good you're doing. You respect us, and that's why you have our loyalty."
"She has a point, Your Highness." Grandeur added. "As much as I hate to admit it, you've done in weeks what I've tried my whole life to do. Not every Rainwing Queen has been able to rally the Tribe with projects like you have. You may not be one of us, but you've given them direction and structure without trying to change who and what we are. You don't know how much that means to us, and to me." The old queen's scales turned a deep blue, in what I had to assume was the color of humility.
"You're not a bad dragon, Xero." Batty insisted, taking my paw in hers. "A bad dragon wouldn't care about the things they've done, or how they got to power, and they definitely wouldn't care about their subjects as much as you do. When we gave you your crown, you could've spent your time eating fruit, or sleeping all day, or taking mates, but instead you taught us how to defend ourselves. Somehow, you got our Tribe to dedicate itself to project after project, and showed us what we're capable of when we put our minds to it. You might've started the war, but you will save our Tribe, and in our eyes that makes you a hero."
"Maybe you don't believe in yourself," Maggy said, placing a paw on my shoulder, "But we do. So believe in us, as we believe in you."
I stared back at these three dragonesses, these three Queens, who had such faith in me. I realized then and there I couldn't abandon them, not now. It didn't matter if I thought we could win or not, because I had a responsibility. I had to be strong for them, for Fox and Splendor, for everyone in the Rainforest.
They were hoping for a miracle, and I damn sure was going to give it everything I had to pull one off...
A/N: Special thanks to Temeraire for writing Sparkling's letter.
The death of Blister and Smolder was very much a surprise to me. I had hoped that he would stick around and cause chaos for both sides, another candidate I could theoretically support. I even had a vague idea of rescuing him and Blaze later on, setting up a court-in-exile, maybe even arranging a political marriage with Blaze. Alas, it was not meant to be. :(
Finally, Desperado of the Coven was actually my secondary character in the game. While Xero was going off having jungle adventures in secret, this guy was my excuse to still be involved in all the combat and intrigue within the Kingdom. If you want to know more about him and the Coven, please go check out Xerophilous Saga: Side Stories, and the new chapters told from his perspective.
