2 • RAEHERYS

RAEHERYS ALAGOR TOOK A PAUSE FROM HIS ASCENT, standing at the stone-carved steps upon the flank of Volcron. The stairs led straight up towards the peak of the volcano where the vast crater grew all the greenery of shrubs and Lilium flowers and Persea trees, gleaming under the sunlight of noon.  

A moment after and Raeherys turned his head to gaze worriedly at the islands in his view, spread out amidst the crystal ocean blue.

The comet, he thought—was approaching day after day to bring destruction upon their realm … the Draconian Realm. All those tropical green forests where they harvest their food, those young dragons flying and playing around the isles, those of his brethren who survived the Red Century War, and most importantly, those dragon eggs, thousands of them, waiting to hatch in the volcano of Aggronar—everything, every dragon in his realm would fall if they would not act now.

Raeherys needed it … the Orb of Phlareus, the Burning Heart of the Phoenix … It’s the only thing that could stop the humans from annihilating their realm. A hundred years had passed since they lost the Red Century War. Only a few dragons survived, no more than a quarter of their population, and settled back into their islands.

Until now, Raeherys made no certain thoughts of when the human empire would arrive to lay siege in Draconos—but he knew the end game was near, now that the Phoenix Comet was half a fortnight away.  

Raeherys didn’t realize standing in the middle of the stairs for too long, not until his eyes caught Mondramyr Gramad, flying his way. The vermilion-red-scaled dragon flapped his broad wings, creating a powerful gust of wind circling, and landed on the stone steps ahead of Raeherys.

The Mondramyr shape-shifted into his human form; his skin now dressed with dragon scales weaved into an armored vest. His amber eyes, glowing from the sunlight, lowered in respect as he kneeled before Raeherys. “Your Grace, if you’d be so kind—I’d like to have a word.” Then he glanced at the two mondras guarding the king. “In private.”

Raeherys made a half turn to the two scale-armored men behind him, then gave a nod of dismissal. They both bowed their heads in response before taking their leave.

Raeherys and Gramad made their way up on the long steps. Two columns of carved dragon statues lined in parallel on both sides of the stairs. Hyborns they were—elite dragons with medallion-gold shade of skin, scales, and eyes. Like Raeherys, Hyborns had been deemed as the most powerful among all dragons because of their multiple heads and the divine blood of Hylos, their God, running through their veins. For thousands of generations, they had ruled and served and protected the dragon realm from the enemies … more so from the humans.  

Climbing the stairs through the Hyborn Pillars signified worship and respect for all the golden dragons that died before. A sacrifice it was, of both time and effort, for those who would choose to take the long stairs rather than using their wings to reach the peak.

“What is it, Gramad?” said Raeherys, the strong gust of wind sending his black hair into a flail.

“I may not be in the right place to say this, My King, but your Lawdras have underestimated our enemies. They’ve never been out there in the human lands. They’ve never seen how vicious they are.” The Mondramyr sighed, his hands on his back. “I’d like to ask you to reconsider, Your Grace. The comet is only days away. It’d be far worse than you think if we only plan to stay here in our islands and wait for them to finish whatever’s left of us.”

“If what you’re asking is for us to strike, I will not allow it,” replied Raeherys. “The Lawdras and I have already discussed the matter. I will not risk any more lives of our brethren, Gramad. This is for the best.”

“For the best?” Gramad stopped and looked at the young Hyborn. “Your Grace, the Lawdras may be old and wise but they know nothing about our enemies … whereas I have seen them with my own eyes, My King. I have witnessed their monstrosity.” His gaze traveled towards the Hyborn Pillars. “Humans can do anything, Your Grace—even things beyond what we can imagine. If we don’t strike them before the comet arrives, they’ll become unstoppable.”

The salty wind, carrying the ocean scent, occupied the brief silence between the two. Raeherys shifted his eyes from the Mondramyr to the islands in his view. The memory about his older brother traveled back to his mind—Aravyr, who had been too stubborn, too reckless of avenging their father’s death. On the previous moon, Aravyr had taken all of what’s left of their mondras and waged another war against the humans.

Raeherys went mad about what his brother had done. They had already come to settle back peacefully in Draconos, but Aravyr only disrupted that and brought another danger to their realm. In the last fortnight, Mondramyr Gramad, with only a few of his mondras, came back in Draconos, barely escaping from those dragon hunters who tracked and chased them all the way to the sea.

They had carried grieving news not only of their defeat but also the death of his brother in that pointless battle—thus making Raeherys the last Hyborn King of the Draconian Realm.

Raeherys returned his glance to the Mondramyr. “This is not just about the Lawdras, Gramad. Our people—“

“Our people will die—all of us will die if we do nothing, Your Grace,” Gramad interrupted. “Don’t make the same mistake … the mistake that killed your ancestors … and your family …”

Raeherys snapped, his golden eyes suddenly filled with rage. “The same mistake?” he said with a hard emphasis. “You think I’m making the same mistake? Do you even what their mistake was? For hell’s sake, Gramad, let me inform you … Ignoring the counsels of the Lawdras. They never listened to the Lawdras. And look at where they are now … dead.”

Gramad studied him carefully. “Is that the only mistake they had done?”

Raeherys could feel his boiling blood deep in his chest, as he found himself recalling his father. He had always looked forward to King Sevyrion’s return from making peaceful negotiations with the humans; to end the war, and obtaining the Orb of Phlareus in exchange for their gold and diamonds found in their isles. However, his excitement turned into sorrow when he learned his father had been ambushed on the way by those wicked, merciless dragon hunters.

Raeherys had always looked upon his father before. But now, he believed nothing from him. Despite the Lawdras advising against King Sevyrion’s plan of going south to the human empire, they’d been only ignored. He never listened to them. And that mistake had killed him. It killed Aravyr too, his older brother … a fool … a brute who only wanted war and blood and flesh. They should have taken the advice of the Lawdras. As the oldest and wisest dragons in the Draconos, they had always known what was right for the realm.

Raeherys vowed not to make the same mistake after all of what he had seen.

“That’s not the mistake I was referring, Your Grace,” said Gramad, frowning.

Raeherys darted his sharp glance at the Mondramyr. “Then what?”

Gramad looked through him in the eyes and said, “Simply … underestimating the humans all this time. That’s what killed them. They had forgotten the Golden Rule of Draconians—not to trust our enemies … especially those humans. If you don’t want to follow your ancestors to their grave, then you should consider my advice … as the mondramyr who battled in the war and witnessed how humans fight.”

Raeherys let go of his clenched fists. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I can’t just make any decisions without the guidance from the old.”

“But you’re the king. You have the power and freedom to—“

“That’s the point,” Raeherys cut him off. “I’m a king. And a king must have no mistakes … even a single one I cannot afford to make. I’m only a hundred years young, Gramad. I am expected to consider the Lawdras with every choice I make.”

Remembering what his father had told Raeherys before going to negotiate with the humans, those words echoed back inside his mind, “Promise me, son … promise me you’ll do the right thing …”

At first, Raeherys didn’t know what the ‘right thing’ meant … until he learned about his father’s death, he finally understood. It was the Lawdras. They always knew what was right all this time. And he ought to follow whatever advice and counsel they had for him just to avoid his fear … to avoid making mistakes that could cause worse trouble for his people.

“You cannot rely on them forever, Your Grace,” the Mondramyr spoke in a lower voice. “Time will come, I’m certain, that you will have no one else to depend on but yourself.”

“I’ll hear no more of this. You’re dismissed.” Raeherys walked past Gramad. But then he paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. “Continue unloading those ships we took from Ormir. Burn them down after. We don’t want those hunters using anything to cross the sea.”

Raeherys continued his climb to Volcron’s Peak—his thoughts still occupied by what Gramad had said. He, too, wanted to end the war and conflict by taking the orb—the orb which the humans stole from the dragons a very long time ago. It’s what caused the Red Century War—ended by the humans claiming victory.

And now that Aravyr had sparked another conflict between the two realms, Raeherys needed the orb. He wanted to take it back from the empire before the Phoenix Comet would reach its peak. However, the Lawdras advised against it, not wanting to risk any more lives after all of what they’d lost.

As for what they had suggested, the best option that they could do now was to stay in their isles and sink the ships from Ormir to prevent the humans from reaching their isles.

See? They were right. They had always been right. Raeherys breathed out with a bit of triumph—but it all faded when his eyes caught the statues of his father and his brother ahead. They never got the justice they deserved.

Raeherys frowned. Wasn’t it his job to avenge them as the last Hyborn? Eventually, he wouldn’t know, his own dragon statue would stand next to his brother on the line …

And it might be the last statue the realm would have, he feared …

Sometimes, Raeherys wondered what each of the Hyborns would do in his situation, knowing that the comet was approaching. Would they still be foolish enough to declare war and force the humans to give them the orb? Of course, they would. But Raeherys knew better. His entire existence of one hundred and eight years had made him wise enough.

Raeherys decided; he would open this matter in his discussion with the Lawdras later. His anxiety of the human empire’s unknown capabilities had always been troubling him from his sleep every night.

He believed they still needed to do something other than destroying the ships from Ormir …

It’s not enough to save them.  

No … it would never be …