The procession of dragons flew over the red river, and Amalia remembered the moment she’d done the same.
Fleeing the Brotherhood was the first trial she’d had to overcome on her return to her people, and as she glanced down at the green grass, rolling meadows, and clusters of villages, she imagined what it would be like to return someday and bring the Mages home.
She looked ahead.
That was for another day.
First, she and the dragons needed to reclaim their home and prepare it for the return of the other clans who belonged there.
Her eyes widened at the first glimpse of the Dragon’s Pass.
It was just how she remembered it being during her walk with the spirits. Two massive mountains awaited, with a wide valley in between.
It was the only way into Kjos.
She could see why. Behind each mountain was a drop off into the abysmal lands below their realm. The world of Alsgard was but a floating continent, one of many in the system of worlds above and below. And, to return home, they would be forced down one path, for even flying over it was of no use. The boundary that separated it from the rest of the world was a thick, green veil that stretched from ground to sky.
Her lips parted as she beheld it with awe. Home was hidden behind that veil. It was so close, yet so far.
Amalia held on as Kylan flew to the smooth, black ground and landed. She slid off his back and stretched, looking to the red sunrise. The other dragons followed their example, and landed around them.
The dragons shifted into their human form and beheld the two large doors that stood between them and the realm of Kjos. Behind those doors was what they had come for—their home—their birthright.
Kylan stood beside her, his hand on the small of her back as smoke puffed into the air from a volcano.
"How are we going to do this?" Amalia asked, licking her lips as she watched the fire and lava pump into the crevices of the ground, and the film of magic shrouding the entire island.
A narrow bridge connected the continent of Skal to that of Kjos where the Dragon’s Pass awaited, and the red river rushed beneath.
He turned to her, and she leaned into his chest, the exhaustion of riding for days finally catching up with her. She could only imagine how fatigued he and the other dragons were.
“Here, we are,“ he said. “Once we defeat Drako we can use the key the elves have been keeping safe for us."
Every nerve tension her body as a shard of white ice shot through her. A raspy gasp escape her lips and she shot a look to the left and saw a stone creature approaching.
“Golems,” Kylan said, his brows lifted with surprise as he held her in his arms.
They shot a look to it, as more appeared, crashing along the hard ground with their massive, craggy, rock bodies. It slid along the black ground it’s large stone arms and stone legs moving slowly, scraping against it with each move.
Her face blanched as one of them ran its hand through the river of lava and threw a ball of it through the air.
"Look out," Amalia shouted, running to avoid the path of the lava. She slid across the ground, ducking as the balls of lava soared through the air and ripped through several dragons.
Kylan took her by the arm. “Come,” he said. “We can fly over them, get away from this area.”
She nodded, her heart thumping in her chest like a drum, and ran alongside him as he made the shift into a dragon. It was quick, and effortless, and she was able to grab ahold of him before he lifted them high above Golem territory.
The others did the same, and her heart broke at seeing the fallen dragons laying in pools of lava, burnt beyond recognition.
How many more would die before they were even granted entry into the gates?