RAEM
He stood in the charred rooftop gardens—the same place he had stabbed his father—stitching the wound his daughter had given him. His lips were tight, and sweat dripped down his face as he worked, sewing his arm shut.
The trees, bushes, and flowerbeds lay burnt around him. The broken lattices rose like blackened bones. Once this had been a garden of life, a place of solitude and peace. The dragons had come. The dragons had burned. The dragons had torn his life apart, torn his children from him.
Two of those children—Laira and Sena—now flew in the north, diseased creatures. His third child, his youngest, he had taught too well.
"Issari is like me," Raem said softly into the ashy wind. "A traitor to her father. And so she will suffer."
He violently thrust the needle into his arm, savoring the pain. He was sewing the last stitch when the palace shook. Dust flew. Bricks toppled into a courtyard below. Raem leaned over the roof's edge and sucked in his breath.
A white dragon crashed out of the palace doorway, shattering bronze and stone, and soared into the sky.
Raem stared, silent.
A cloud of demons burst out of the palace like black blood spilling from an infected wound. They began to fly in pursuit, but the white dragon turned and blasted fire. The inferno blazed across the demons and crashed into the palace, forcing Raem to step back into the charred gardens. Sparks landed upon him, searing his skin; he was still shirtless after his visit to the cistern. When the flames died, he saw demon corpses upon the courtyard below. The white dragon was already flying toward the coast.
Light caught the dragon's palm, shining against something metallic. Raem knew that light.
An amulet of Taal.
"Issari," he whispered.
Before he could take another breath, the roof crashed open behind him. Through a cloud of rock and smoke, Angel ascended, shrieking. Claw marks drove down her stony chest, leaking lava. Rings of fire burst out from her.
"Your daughter!" she cried, voice a storm. "Your daughter is diseased!" She landed before him, wings knocking down charred trees, and clawed what remained of the roof. "You have forbidden me to leave this city, and now she flees. Send me after her!"
Raem was surprised.
Not surprised that Issari was a dragon.
Not that his city crumbled around him.
Not that his wound dripped, a failed assassination attempt from his dearest daughter.
Raem was surprised that, despite all these things, he found himself feeling remarkably calm, even casual.
He cleared his throat. "Yes, my dear Angel, it seems she is a dragon. And yes, I have forbidden you to leave this city."
The Demon Queen screamed. Her fire blazed, a great pillar upon the roof. The palace shook. Demons who flew above, balls of slime, burst under the sound wave of her scream, falling down in tatters.
"Send me after her!"
Calmly, Raem turned to look toward the coast. The white dragon was now over the water, fleeing north. A second beast was flying in the opposite direction, heading from the sea toward the city. As Raem watched, a great oily vulture—larger even than a dragon—flew toward the palace, a rider upon its back.
With a shriek, the roc landed on the palace roof. A Goldtusk hunter spilled off its back, barely landing on his feet. He was a tall, hirsute man with beads threaded into his beard. Three fingers were missing from his hand, the wounds fresh, and a gash ran down his chest. His skin was ashen, his eyes sunken. Blood stained his tattered fur cloak.
"I seek King Raem!" the man said, wavering, looking so weak he barely acknowledged the smoky, fiery Angel.
"You have found him," said Raem.
The hunter gripped Raem's arms. "The rocs . . . many dead. Zerra . . . slain. Laira, that maggot of a harlot . . . took over the tribe. The dragons have a kingdom now. Requiem, they call it. All is lost. All . . . lost . . ."
With that, the man collapsed. He breathed no more.
Raem stared at the dead man, at Issari who was barely visible upon the horizon, at the ruin of his palace, and at the panting, sneering Angel.
And he laughed.
His laughter seized him. He could not stop. Angel shrieked again, beating her wings, and Raem laughed so much he had to wipe a tear from his eye.
"Do you see, Angel?" he said. "Do you see the pain of children? Never breed, Angel. Never bear a child."
She ripped out a chunk of roof and tossed it aside. She lifted the dead hunter in her claws, raised him to her lips, and hissed.
"It is time," she said. "Time to eat human flesh. Time to grow. Time to kill dragons."
Raem looked down upon the city. He saw no living souls. All his people—once proud and strong—hid in their homes.
The dragons destroyed my city, he thought. And so be it. Let blood fill these streets.
He nodded.
"A thousand men and women I give to you. A thousand meals. Fly through the city with your demons, Angel. Feast upon them. Grow large. Grow strong. And then . . . then we fly north. To Requiem."
Angel howled in joy. Her jaw unhinged, her maw opening wide like a python about to swallow a pig. She stuffed the dead tribesman into her mouth, gulping him down, chewing, swallowing, until her belly extended like some obscene pregnancy. Her limbs grew longer. Her head ballooned. She laughed as she grew taller, sprouting to twice her old height, then growing even further. She spread her wings wide like midnight sails.
"Rise, demons of the Abyss!" Angel shouted. "Rise and feast upon the flesh of Eteer!"
She beat her wings, rising, ringed in fire, a woman of stone and lava the size of a dragon. From the palace windows and doors, they burst out, a thousand abominations of the Abyss. They spread through the city streets. They crashed through the doors of homes and shops. And they fed. And they grew.
Screams and blood filled the city of Eteer that day.
Raem watched from the palace roof, a thin smile on his lips.
Before him, the demons grew, extending like boils about to burst. Globs of flesh. Scaled creatures of hooks and horns. Unholy centipedes of many human heads and limbs. All rose before him, growing to the size of dragons. They hovered before the palace roof, swallowing the last bits of human flesh.
It was an army of darkness. It was an army to purify the world.
Upon the roof, Raem raised his arms. He shouted out for them all to hear.
"I have fed you, my children! And you have grown strong. Now we fly! We fly north. We fly to Requiem. We fly to kill dragons!"
They shrieked, howled, sneered, laughed, roared. Their voices rose into a single cry, a thunder that shook the city, that shattered towers, that sent burnt trees crumbling. Raem's mount—the twisted woman broken, cursed, and stretched into a bat—flew toward him. Once the size of a horse, the deformed creature was now as large as a dragon, and the blood of men stained her lips. Raem mounted the beast and stroked her.
Hiding the sky behind their wings, leaving a trail of rot, the demon army flew across the city and over the sea, heading to the land of dragons.
Join the Daniel Arenson's mailing list (you'll receive a free ebook as a gift): DanielArenson.com/MailingList
If you enjoyed Requiem's Song, please review the novel online. Thank you!