Chapter Text
Autumn was starting to fade when Kain decided it was finally time to visit his mother. Skyrunner had regained much of his physical and psychological strength over the past year—or at least enough that the blue dragon was noticeably restless for reasons beyond his own health.
Kain concurred. Skyrunner was ready. They were both ready.
It would be a long flight to Troia, but thankfully the weather was unseasonably warm even in the pre-dawn hour. Together, they leapt off the ramparts of the east tower and set a northwesterly course.
Flight-induced euphoria enveloped Kain; no matter his mood, the sheer joy of cheating gravity never failed to make his heart sing with the dragons’. Suddenly, a sliver of light peered over Baron’s expansive fields and threw their shadows halfway across the kingdom. Boy and dragon flew alongside their doppelgängers for a few moments, and Kain suddenly thought about his jealousy, his temper, the voices inside him that spat scorn whenever Rosa smiled at Cecil instead of him. Did all that bile—all the stuff he promised his mother he’d control—exist in that huge shadow-boy flying at his side?
If so, there’s no escape. I am my shadow, and my shadow is I. Kain smiled a little. But that other me over there—he loves to fly, too. Maybe we can learn to live with each other.
Their shadows shriveled in the strengthening sun. Kain took note of how Skyrunner’s shadow kept its form long after Kain’s own shade had poured itself over the dragon’s back. Big dragons have big demons , he thought automatically.
Faint lines of pain threaded through Kain when Skyrunner jolted over an air pocket. Kain had mostly recovered from his ordeal, but his soul still carried deep bruises that radiated indescribable hurt. He once asked Ser Skyreach when those cancerous aches would subside. His mentor dropped his hand on Kain’s shoulder and gripped it hard enough to leave another mark.
Kain gave Skyrunner a reassuring pat. Bonded though they were, the elderly Mysidian blue would never be Kain’s dragon. Skyrunner had pledged his heart to Ricard, death’s vast abyss be damned. But Kain visited Skyrunner daily, talked to him, groomed him, and frequently took him for flights. In secret, Kain often begged the dragon to perform the loop-de-loop that made him so famous in the skies of Baron during his prime. Skyrunner repeatedly and pointedly refused with an irate shake of his mane.
Skyrunner was Kain’s great friend, but Kain’s own heart was committed to Endir, who flew behind them obediently (to Kain’s relief). The green dragon wasn’t yet strong or experienced enough to carry Kain to Troia, but he had no trouble flying under the weight of the wild goat carcass strapped to his back.
A strong tailwind made short work of the journey, and there was still plenty of daylight left when the travellers arrived. Kain ordered the dragons to land in another clearing that was a short distance from the cabin.
“Follow me,” he murmured to Skyrunner as he loosened the wyrm’s harness and wiped under it with a sheepskin. “Stay some footfalls behind, though. Make sure Endir does the same. He’ll listen to you.”
Skyrunner acknowledged Kain’s authority with a grunt, but in truth, Kain wasn’t feeling very authoritative. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he returned to the cabin, and being adrift caused his heart to hammer against his windpipe. Was Foe’s Blood still there, or had she flown off and rekindled her wild roots? Had someone else claimed the cabin while Kain recuperated in Baron? Would he see his mother’s decomposing body, viciously humbled by entropy?
Kain pushed through branches and brambles. It was a scratchy, thorny business, but he thought it was best not to simply drop two dragons into an unpredictable scenario. Skyrunner huffed a complaint as the branches Kain pushed aside recoiled and slapped his snout, but otherwise the party broke into the cabin clearing without issue.
Kain scanned the area, his heart still pounding in his throat. The cabin looked much the same as the day he’d left Ruth behind to die beside it—but there was no sign of her.
No sign of Foe’s Blood, either…
No sooner did the thought run through Kain’s mind when Skyrunner trilled cheerfully and looked skyward. A flash of crimson soared over the treetops, and Kain waved and shouted happily. It wasn’t the best idea—again, there was no telling how Foe would react to him after their long separation—but he couldn’t contain his joy at knowing she was alive and well.
Foe landed in front of Kain just as he threw himself at her. The Baronian red was short-muzzled compared to most dragons, but Kain still managed to drape half his body on her warm snout. She lifted him off the ground and sent him flying a short distance, but Kain didn’t miss the cheerful grunt she used specifically for him. Laughing—and a bit bruised—Kain pulled himself up and gave Foe’s Blood another, less rowdy embrace. She accepted it.
Skyrunner chirped politely, and Kain stood aside so he could reunite with his friend. Skyrunner touched his nose to Foe’s snout before he happily eased his bulk against her flank. Foe braced herself and pushed back, her innards rumbling with a purr Kain had never heard before. Skyrunner and Foe’s Blood had never mated—Skyrunner was a tame dragon, whereas Foe would only breed wild—but they were soulmates regardless.
Curiously, Foe’s Blood was cool towards Endir, even cautious. If she remembered hatching the wyrmling, she made no sign. She was far more interested in the goat carcass strapped on her son’s back.
“Ah, right, of course.” Kain unbound the goat, which slid bonelessly from Endir’s back. “This is for you. Thank you for taking care of moth—”
Foe’s Blood grabbed the goat (coming too damn close to sweeping Kain into her jaws as well) and leapt upwards. A powerful downwind buffeted Kain as Foe took off over the treetops with her prize. Skyrunner followed, though Kain wasn’t sure if the blue dragon wanted his friend’s company or a mouthful of goat.
Maybe both.
Kain smiled to himself and tugged at the harness criss-crossing Endir’s chest. As they walked further into the clearing and closer to the cabin, Kain glanced around nervously, dreading the moment his eyes would sweep across his mother’s grinning skull.
He never saw it. A mercy, to be sure, but also troubling. Ruth Aranea Highwind deserved to rest.
Then Kain spotted an unusual rise of earth and vegetation cradled in the exposed, gnarled roots of a nearby trio of trees. He drew closer and said “Oh!” aloud as soon as he realized what it was: A nest. A dragon’s nest with three melon-sized eggs incubated by a layer of fermenting vegetation.
Kain drew in his breath as he knelt reverently beside the eggs. Then he exhaled in sharp alarm when he noticed the off-white branches mixed with the detritus bordering the mound.
Not branches. Bones.
Kain’s heart started to race again in the presence of his mother’s remains. He fell forward on his hands, but even though he felt weak-headed, he wasn’t afraid. If anything, he was relieved nearly to the point of tears. Only a few slivers of Ruth seemingly remained—maybe wild animals got the rest—but Kain knew she was at peace. Foe’s Blood would never have Ruth guard her brood otherwise.
“I’ve come back, mother,” Kain said softly. Somehow he knew Ruth was with him, entwined within the marrow of her own insect-scoured bones and draped over the eggshells that embraced new life.
Kain sat back on his heels and lowered his head. Endir snuffed at his unborn siblings, and Kain gently pushed away the dragon’s snout. “I’m here,” he continued. “I—did what you asked.
I saved Skyrunner. Sorry he’s not here, he took off with Foe’s Blood as soon as we landed. They were so happy to see each other. You should have seen them. I’ll make sure he says bye before we leave, though.”
Kain had stressed a little on the flight over because he hadn’t been sure what he was going to tell Ruth, but saying Skyrunner’s name put him back on a path.
“I can’t lie, mother. I did as you told me, but I still have no idea what I’m doing. I wish you were here to tell me when your lesson will be done.”
That’s when something inside Kain—some white force that he somehow recognized as the polar opposite of the shadows in his dreams—ordered him to open his eyes, his ears, his heart.
Scour the muck of doubt from your soul. Examine the moment.
Kain breathed deeply and centred himself in the now. He listened to the forest birds warming up their “good night” songs. He felt the earth tremble ever-so-slightly as Endir slipped away and started digging for grubs and truffles. He saw the eggs, each one a treasure chest that carried the promise of a fierce bloodline.
Suddenly, Kain understood—sort of. By saving Skyrunner, he’d repaired the tattered pride of Baron’s Dragoons. They had a long way to go if they hoped for the legion to perform as well as they did in Ricard’s heyday, when the stalls were full and dragons’ wings eclipsed the sunlight over Baron during wartime. But Kain had carried his flame and laid it on the Dragoons’ cold kindling. He’d done his part.
Not that he intended to turn his back on the Dragoons, of course. He had a lot to do.
“I swear…I swear I’ll never give you reason to be ashamed of me, mother. You or father.”
It terrified Kain to hear his own oath pour from his mouth and across Ruth’s resting place. His resolve stood fast against the wash of fear, but he knew in his deepest being that he was a flawed human—potentially more flawed than most.
Then Kain grasped at a memory that suddenly swam past him.
Cecil had visited Kain while he was recuperating in the Dragoons’ barracks, and the young Dark Knight had looked—well, Kain wouldn’t use the word better, but it was clear he was wholly in charge of himself again.
When Kain told Cecil as much, Cecil ducked his head with shy pride. He said, “That fellow in the aviary—Vasvilla? He knows we’re friends, so he asked his brother to mentor me.”
“Wait.” Kain’s surprise gave him enough energy to sit up part way in bed. “Vasvilla has a brother? And he’s a Dark Knight ?”
“Yes. A veteran. He’s very kind. Please lie back down, Kain, Skyreach will kick me out if you get too riled up.”
Kain eased back into bed. “As father would say, ‘It takes all kinds of wyrms to make a flight’. You said he’s kind?”
“In his own way. He’s teaching me how to channel the dark, and how to walk the Paths without getting too sick, angry, or sad.” Cecil’s eyes looked beyond Kain. “He’s also teaching me how to find my mote.”
“Your…mote?”
“My ‘mote of light at the crossroads’, Cecil said. "I‘ll try to explain. See, Dark Knights get their powers from the Paths." He paused for a beat. "I…don"t know how to describe the Paths, exactly, but they"re kind of like—like roads that twist and turn through all the bad parts of us that we try to forget.”
Cecil looked away from Kain and took a shuddering breath. “There are things on the Paths, things that hate me, but can’t escape from me. They surrender because they have to. I take their hate, I take their—"
Cecil paused again. “No. I think I take my hate back from them…? Kain, I’m so sorry, I’m making a big mess out of this—"
“It’s fine. Keep going,” Kain said shortly.
“All right. To make things quick, I get my Dark Knight skills by fighting those animals inside me. The deeper I go into myself, the more power I can bring out—but if I go too far down, I’ll lose my way and ‘Follow the Devil down the crossroads’.” Cecil shrugged weakly. “That’s how the other Dark Knights say it, anyway.”
“What happens then,” Kain asked as a chilling image of Rosa’s father arose in his mind. He knew perfectly well what happened, and he didn’t blame Cecil for looking away instead of answering him.
“You still haven’t told me what the ‘mote’ thing is about,” Kain reminded him. “Something to do with those crossroads?”
“Right!” Cecil brightened, then quickly looked away again. This time, however, Kain caught a glimpse of a blush rising up Cecil’s neck and pooling in his cheeks.
“When I first started training as a Dark Knight, I used to get too close to the crossroads,” Cecil continued. “I managed to find my way home every time, but some part of me was always forced to stay behind. I got sick. Then I got…tired. Just tired. I could hardly move. Then there was a day when Ser Baigan couldn’t wake me up—"
This time Kain did sit up completely, his fury muting the pain that screamed through his body. “What are they doing to you, Cecil?! How dare—”
“Shhh, quiet, please be quiet!” Cecil hissed. “Gods, Ser Skyreach is going to kill me if your wounds open back up. Anyway, I’m done talking. But just want—I just want you to know you’re my mote of light, Kain. You and Rosa. When I can’t see behind me but I know the crossroads are in front of me, I think about you guys. When I talk to the Dark and my body starts to freeze, I know the pain is worth it if it means I can learn how to protect you. Then I think about how summer will come again someday and we’ll all get to play again. That keeps me from being swallowed up.”
“We never did catch many fish in that nasty moat,” Kain chuckled weakly. He wasn’t sure how else to respond. He still wasn’t clear on what being Cecil’s “mote” entailed. All Kain knew was that he, Cecil, and Rosa had already spent their last carefree summer day together, and they never knew it. They hadn’t marked the end of their childhood with anything beyond their usual “good night,” and a forever unfulfilled promise to play again the next day.
Kain had no idea why the realization stabbed at him so suddenly, but he understood it on a primal level. He wasn’t sad so much as he was awestruck. He wisely decided not to share his premonition with Cecil, who seemingly sustained himself with the promise of golden days and warm nights.
A mote of light at the crossroads…
Kain shepherded his thoughts back to the present. The shadows in the clearing were getting longer; they were on the downhill side of the afternoon. Kain was prepared to spend the night. He initially hadn’t relished the idea of sleeping anywhere near the cabin that had snagged his mother’s soul, but the sight of Foe’s clutch put his heart at ease.
Foe’s Blood returned to the clearing alongside Skyrunner. Kain gathered some tinder, and both dragons flopped onto the ground and watched with what Kain perceived as amusement as he struggled to light the campfire.
The spark from Kain’s flint and steel finally caught, and the little flame grew as it ate voraciously at the pile of dry twigs, leaves, and branches. The heat and light were more than welcome; night came early under Troia’s dense canopy. Endir joined them shortly and threw himself down with a sigh that sounded tired, but happy.
Kain sat with his back against Foe’s crimson flank. He let her natural warmth seep through his aching muscles. He sleepily observed the ring of dragons around him. His brethren. His motes.
“Thank you,” Kain said aloud. “All of you.”
Be strong, Foe’s Blood returned in a whisper to Kain’s heart. I love you.
Kain heard the voice of his mother’s dragon as clearly as a church bell on a clear dawn. The smile that crept across his face was so big, so bright, Endir looked at him with concern.
“It’s all right,” Kain assured him. “Guess you’re not used to seeing me smile, huh?”
Kain laced his fingers behind his head, leaned back against Foe’s Blood, and laughed out loud. Now Endir looked panicked.
“Maybe I should do it more often,” Kain said as he looked deeply into the campfire’s cooling embers. He eased his eyes closed.
“Maybe I should do it more often.”