5-7

Chapter 5: Regime Change

As Doomwing neared the capital, he realised why the place had looked so familiar in Jarod's memories. He'd been there before. In fact, he'd visited it regularly toward the end of the Sixth Age.

The capital was a hodgepodge of buildings. The largest and finest of the buildings were clearly remnants from the Sixth Age, worn and weathered but still magnificent, a testament to the heights humanity had reached before the Sixth Catastrophe. Much of the magic that had once protected them had faded, most likely because the techniques required to maintain them had been forgotten centuries ago. In keeping with Elerion's tastes in architecture, the buildings made extensive use of sweeping arches, ornate pillars, and slender, soaring towers.

Frankly, Doomwing had always thought it all looked a bit pretentious, but he was a dragon. His kind had never put much stock in architecture because they had never needed buildings to shelter themselves. Their scales were proof against even the most inclement weather, and the fire that dwelt within them shielded them from whatever cold the world could muster. To a dragon, the only thing that mattered was defensibility. A stout fortress with many soldiers, mages, and weapons to defend it was far more pleasing to a dragon's eye than any appeal to aesthetics.

Elerion had called him a boor, and Marcus had agreed with him. Not that it mattered. Dragons had never really believed in democracy. Instead, they prized strength and power. By that metric, Doomwing was clearly in the right because he was stronger than both of his friends. Kagami had agreed with him although he suspected that she had only done that to be obnoxious. It was just like her to say something outrageous to provoke a reaction from Elerion. She was probably the only person in the world who could look at the High King and call him adorable.

It was a pity that he'd been forced to kill her later although, by that point, she hadn't really been Kagami anymore.

The other buildings in the capital were less impressive although there were clear signs of progression. The buildings that were about two centuries old were mostly made of bricks, and there was little to praise about either their strength or their appearance. However, the newest buildings, some of which appeared to have been made in the last decade or two, showed commendable masonry work, and there were spells of the second and third order woven into the stone. It was far from impressive, but the improvement was nevertheless worthy of praise.

However, what truly drew his eye was the large, almost perfectly circular lake beside the capital.

He could remember making that lake. Elerion had whined about not having a suitable lake where he could build a holiday palace, and Doomwing had gotten so sick of his whinging that he'd used his power to carve out a circular crater and fill it with water. Naturally, Kagami had berated him for using his power so recklessly, but that hadn't stopped her from immediately seizing control of the construction crews that Elerion had dispatched. Since he was basically building the palace for her, she saw no reason not to oversee construction personally.

It was a shame she'd blown it up later.

Still, it was nice to see the lake again. He'd almost forgotten it. No. He'd made an effort not to think about it because of all the memories that came with it. There had been a lot of good memories, but there had been plenty of bad ones too. He could still remember the arguments they'd had about what sort of fish they should add to the lake. In the end, he'd let the others decide. It wasn't as though anything they could add would be large enough to sate his appetite since anything big enough would probably eat everything else they put in the lake. Oh well. If he wanted a whale or a kraken, he could always fly to the sea. It wasn't far, not for him.

As he circled over the capital, he realised that the city was in uproar... and not because of him. Soldiers were clashing on the streets, and the large complex of buildings that Jarod's memories told him was the palace was currently on fire. Were they under attack? No. The soldiers were wearing similar uniforms and armour, which meant it was probably an uprising of some sort. But what could have caused it? His lips curled. He had felt the use of communication magic while flying over the border. Being told that a giant dragon was headed toward the capital might have been the impetus that prospective rebels needed. After all, if the king had angered the aforementioned giant dragon, then clearly he was incompetent and needed to be removed.

How amusing. Doomwing was almost tempted to let the whole thing play out, but if he wanted to be a decent emperor, then he'd need decent minions. It wouldn't do if the incompetent king survived at the expense of more competent subordinates.

Princess Antaria cut down another member of the royal guard and looked around to see if her uncle was still alive. Their attempt to oust her father had not gone as they'd planned. For all of his reckless ambition and greed, her father's paranoia had served him well. The twenty members of the royal guard that followed him everywhere had been accompanied by a further thirty, all of them hidden using an artefact that she hadn't known about. Throw in the swarms of regular soldiers and mages her father had at his disposal, and the elite strike force that she and her uncle had counted on to quickly take him into custody had suddenly found itself besieged on all sides.

At some point, some fool had also set fire to the palace. Not only were they badly outnumbered but they were also operating on a time limit. So far, the fire was confined to the eastern wing, but it wouldn't be long before it spread. Worse, the head of the royal guard was a skilled tactician, and he had been slowly but surely pushing their forces toward the fire. They had called for reinforcements from their supporters in the city, but the last she'd heard, they were currently tied up fighting loyalists in the streets.

"Antaria!"

She turned and breathed a sigh of relief. Her uncle was still alive although his armour was dented in several places, and his left arm hung limp by his side. "Uncle."

Another royal guardsman rushed toward her, and she called on her dwindling reserves of magic. The third-order fire spell formed more slowly than she'd like, and it had little of the power she'd been able to muster when the battle had begun. However, it was enough to throw her opponent off balance, and she drove her sword through the visor of his helmet. The strike wasn't perfect, but the enchanted edge of the weapon let her pierce through the steel of his helmet.

She yanked her sword free and bit back a curse as more soldiers poured into the hallway. "Uncle, we are losing."

"I am well aware of that," he said. "But we both knew this was a possibility when we decided to make our move."

"This was our best chance," Antaria replied. "With a dragon on the way, I thought we'd be able to catch my father off guard. Who would have known he'd be more worried about potential rebellion than a mile-long reptile with revenge on its mind?"

"True. But my brother has always been paranoid about treachery since that's how he took the throne in the first place." Her uncle sighed. "Get out of here. We're boxed in, and it's only a matter of time before we're overrun. You know all the secret passages in the palace. You'll be able to get out. Flee the city and try to rally more support. If you're lucky, the dragon will burn this place to the ground, and you won't even have to fight your father for control."

"I'd still have to face my brothers," Antaria replied. "And they are older and have more support."

"They're a lot like your father. I can see them being foolish enough to challenge the dragon."

"Uncle..."

"Just go." He chuckled. "Your father hates me. The only reason I'm still alive is because he knows I'm better at running a kingdom than he is. As long as I was useful, he was willing to tolerate me. But now? Not a chance. I'll kill as many of them as I can before I die, and I might even get lucky and kill him too." He clenched his right fist. "I've never been much of a fighter anyway, but I do know a spell or two that might be useful here."

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"We can both get out," Antaria insisted. "And -"

The ground shook violently, and the combatants glanced about warily. Had one of them done that? Was it an earthquake? Was there a third group -

The ceiling came apart. No. It was torn off and cast aside like a piece of kindling. Gleaming golden eyes appeared above them, and ruby and sapphire scales gleamed in the firelight. It was the dragon.

"Good evening," the dragon drawled, and his voice was like thunder rolling across the plains. "Am I interrupting?"

Her father, who had emerged, most likely to watch her and her uncle die, pointed a finger at the beast. "What are you all standing around for? Kill him! Kill the dragon!"

To their credit, the royal guard moved to obey. A single, titanic claw came down, and a dozen of them were squashed flat in an instant. The others stopped and stared, and her father made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a scream. She would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dire. She hadn't even known he could make a sound like that.

A burst of power rippled outward, and the fire raging toward them died. The dragon smiled, and Antaria almost fainted at the sight of how large his teeth were.

"So..." The dragon's gaze flicked to her father. "You must be the king who thought it was a good idea to send soldiers to attack the people who live in my territory."

"..." Her father tried to speak, but no words would come out.

"Those people owed me tribute... tribute, which your soldiers destroyed." The dragon's eyes narrowed. "You have stolen from me, and I do not tolerate thieves."

"I am a king," her father finally managed to say. "You have no power over me."

"You think your title gives you power?" The dragon laughed, and the sound of it almost knocked Antaria off her feet. "Oh, how amusing. Titles don't give you power, little human. No. Power is what allows you to win titles. How do you think Elerion the Valiant became High King? It was power, pure, overwhelming power. That was why the other humans knelt to him, why they offered him their crowns, their daughters, and their kingdoms. And it was why he was never so stupid as to demand my obedience because he knew that for all his power, I could still crush him like a bug."

Her father snarled. "You overestimate yourself dragon." He smiled craftily. "I was warned of your arrival, and I have prepared a suitable greeting for you." He raised his voice. "Now! Do as I command! Strike down the dragon!"

Mages emerged from hidden passages, and they carried with them artefacts taken from the vaults deep below the palace. Anataria's eyes widened. Those were ancient artefacts, amongst the most powerful the kingdom had. Her father had used those to slay a dragon in the past.

"You're going to try to kill me with those?" The dragon rolled his eyes. "I'm insulted."

The artefacts and the mages holding them exploded in vivid bursts of blood and gore.

Her father stared.

"Trinkets and toys," the dragon said. "They are so worthless I wouldn't even add them to my hoard. Now... what shall I do with you?"

Her father dropped to his knees. "Spare me, mighty dragon! Spare me, and I will hand over my kingdom and my crown!"

It was cowardly, but Antaria couldn't blame him. The dragon had destroyed some of the kingdom's greatest treasures with ease, and he was so massive that she couldn't imagine anything being able to harm him. In the face of such overwhelming might, what could her father do but kneel? He had delusions of grandeur, but he also enjoyed living. Of course, if the dragon spared him, she had no doubt that her father would eventually try to stab him in the back the second he thought he could win.

"If I give you an order, will you obey?" Amusement filled the dragon's voice.

"Of course," her father said. "Merely speak the word, and I shall do as you ask."

"Hmm... very well." The dragon smiled again. "Then die."

"What?"

The dragon brought his claw down again, and thus passed Antaria's father, the king who dared to call himself Elerion after their great ancestor. The dragon raised his claw and then flicked it the same way a man might flick his hand after squashing a fly.

"How pathetic," the dragon said. "The real Elerion wouldn't have knelt there. He would have died fighting, as futile as it would have been. Some men, after all, do not have it in them to kneel, while others will sacrifice anything and everything just to live another day." His golden eyes snapped to Antaria and her uncle. "I am told that the king had a younger brother who wasn't completely hopeless at running a kingdom. Is that you?"

Her uncle gulped and nodded. "Yes, mighty dragon. That would be me."

"Good. You are now king."

"... what?" her uncle blurted.

"I am taking over this kingdom. From this day forward, I will be Dragon Emperor Doomwing. This kingdom belongs to me now, and it will not be long before I add others to it. You will rule it in my name as king."

"I... uh... okay?" her uncle replied.

"Serve me well, and you will be richly rewarded. Serve me poorly, and you will die like your predecessor." Doomwing bared his teeth again. "Your name is Enarion, isn't it?" Her uncle nodded slowly. "And you have great interest in science, magic, and lore of the past, do you not?" He nodded again. "I am a dragon of the First Age."

"The First Age?" Her uncle took a step forward. "Then... you have scrolls and books from the past?"

"I have all the books and scroll you could possibly hope for. Serve me to the best of your ability, and I will allow you to read copies of some of them. In fact, I will even grant you access to certain texts to ensure you can serve me better."

"What... what do you wish for me to do?" her uncle asked.

"I have been told that you are responsible for a large part of this kingdom's recent prosperity. I am a dragon. What I wish for is tribute. The more prosperous this kingdom is, the more tribute it will be able to give me. Therefore, your task is to guide this kingdom, my kingdom, to even greater prosperity."

Her uncle took off his helmet, and she could see that there were tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. Who could blame him? The dragon had spared them and instead of demanding they hand over people to be devoured, he had instead ordered her uncle to lead the kingdom to greater prosperity. "I will do as you have asked, great Doomwing."

"Call me Dragon Emperor Doomwing."

"Of course. Dragon Emperor Doomwing." Her uncle made a face. "But there are those who will oppose me. My brother had sons. They will not doubt try to overthrow me."

"Kindly inform them that any and all attacks on you will be viewed as attacks on me." Doomwing's eyes gleamed with the promise of violence. "And there will be no second chances. Only death. They can cooperate, or they can die." He glanced at the remaining members of the royal guard, as well as the soldiers who had, until Doomwing's arrival, been doing their best to kill them. "That goes for everybody else too."

The guardsmen and soldiers immediately fell to their knees and began to pledge their loyalty. It was completely understandable too.

"I also require one other thing," Doomwing said.

"What is it, dragon emperor?"

"Her." Doomwing pointed at Antaria. "I'll be needing her."

Antaria's eyes widened. "Me?" she croaked. "What do you need me for?"

"What does anyone need a princess for?" Doomwing asked.

"Um..." Antaria couldn't help but think of all the stories she'd read about dragons and what they did to princesses. "I..." She looked at her uncle for help. He stared back at her and shrugged helplessly. "Are you going to eat me?" she asked at last.

"..." Doomwing tilted his head to the side. "You're absolutely tiny. You wouldn't even be a snack. No. I'm not going to eat you. I need someone to help manage the villages in my territory. From now on, that's going to be you."

"Oh."

Interlude 1: The Hatchling

Doomwing couldn't help but envy his parents' scales. His father's scales were a deep red that called to mind the horizon at dawn or dusk whilst his mother's were a vivid blue that reminded him of the sky just after the sun had dipped below the horizon and darkness had yet to truly fall. They were big too, so much bigger than he was. They were each roughly seven hundred feet long although his father was perhaps a few feet longer. In contrast, Doomwing was a mere twelve feet in length.

But he would grow. for as long as a dragon lived, they would only grow bigger and stronger, or so his parents had told him. It seemed like only yesterday he had been a mere ten feet in length, and he could still vaguely remember a time when he had been smaller. He ate well each day, feasting on the scraps of kraken, leviathan, and whale that his parents brought him and on the fish, deer, and cattle that he was large enough to slay. There was something satisfying about eating what he killed, something that felt right and honest and true in a way that eating the food others gave him never did.

"Have you finished eating?" his mother poked him with her tail. Had she wanted, she could easily have smashed every bone in his body, yet her touch was firm without being painful. "Your father and I must tend to our duties. We will accompany you to Mother Tree, but we expect you to work hard." Her amethyst gaze burned into him. "Do not spend all your time playing with the other hatchlings and children, and do not waste you time with that layabout god."

"Yes, mother," Doomwing replied. Of course, he had no intention of spending all his time studying. His parents lived high up in the mountains, so his classes with Mother Tree were his best opportunity to meet other hatchlings and children, and Dion was an interesting god. True, he wasn't very powerful or good at fighting, but he was fun to be around, and he seemed to know all about the best things to eat and drink.

"He is a hatchling," his father rumbled. "Let him have his fun. He will be grown soon enough, and then he will have duties of his own to attend to."

"Even so," his mother insisted. "He has a mind for magic, our Doomwing, but it will mean little if he does not study."

"Hmph." His father loomed over him, golden eyes shining like twin suns. "You are smaller than your mother or I were at your age, Doomwing, but your mother speaks the truth. You have a talent for magic than neither of us did. Work hard. Perhaps you will get more pleasant duties because of it."

Doomwing nodded. He had learned that it was better to just agree with his parents when they were in this sort of mood. They were always going on about their duties. He could appreciate what an honour it was to help the gods shape the world, but why couldn't they spend more time actually enjoying what they'd built? It seemed a shame to make so many wonderful things and then never have the chance to savour them. Dion agreed, which is why the god spend so much time coming up with new foods and drinks. Many thought his efforts wasteful when there was still so much to do, but everybody needed to eat and drink, so why not make the experience more pleasant?

His parents took to the skies, and Doomwing followed them into the air. Given his small size, he couldn't keep up if they flew at their full speed, so they slowed their pace to allow him to fly between him. There were few things that could threaten an adult dragon, but hatchlings were far more vulnerable. He was safe as long as his parents were nearby, and he would be safe with Mother Tree and Dion. Dion might not be much of a fighter, but he was still a god, and Mother Tree was stronger than all but the very mightiest gods.

As they flew, Doomwing gazed at the horizon. They were still far away, but he could already see Mother Tree. She was so tall that her trunk pierced through the clouds, and her branches cast shadows for dozens and dozens of miles. She was so large that even his parents could perch upon her boughs, and even the largest of dragons could not come close to matching her size. Doomwing licked his lips. Mother Tree always had the tastiest fruits for the hatchling and children who attended class. They were both a reward to encourage their best efforts and a way of keeping hunger from bothering them. Dragon hatchlings were almost always hungry, and Doomwing spent most of his time eating to fuel his rapid growth.

As they neared the tree, they came across a multitude of other fliers. There were massive eagles as large as his parents, flocks of wyverns, and even packs of drakes although his parents turned their noses up at them. Apparently, drakes were like dragons, only far smaller and weaker. There were also sky whales and sky krakens, and strange, feathered serpents soared through the clouds. Clouds of small birds, fairies, and other creatures flitted here and there, unbothered by their presence because all knew that violence would not be tolerated within the shadows of Mother Tree. Anyone who disagreed would face her wrath.

Once they were close enough to spot the branch where the other hatchlings and children had gathered, his parents turned and angled south to where they would be helping the gods shape a series of islands in a newly created sea. Doomwing folded his wings and dove, landing beside a dragon whose scales were a patchwork of blues, blacks, greys, and silvers.

"You're early today," Stormtooth chirped. She nudged him with her head. "And you've grown bigger too."

Doomwing made a face. "But you're still bigger than me even though we hatched on the same day."

She chortled. "That's because you're small for your age whereas I am large." She puffed out her chest and flared her wings. The sudden gust of wind drew several scowls from a group of young elves nearby, but she simply bared her teeth in a toothy smile. "I'm also a weather dragon. Everyone knows weather dragons are the best lineage."

He scoffed and poked her with his tail. It was still a bit stubby, but he was hoping it would grow long enough to whip things with soon. "At least wait until you're a hail dragon before saying that."

She rolled her green eyes. "A hail dragon? Don't be silly. It'll be a while until either of us has our First Awakening, and you can be sure I'll have mine before you have yours."

Doomwing bared his teeth. "Just you wait. I'll be a nova dragon one day." He jabbed her lightly with his wings. He'd always been proud of them. He might be small for his age, but his wings had always been unusually large. That was why his parents had called him Doomwing.

"A nova dragon? You're a burst dragon now. You'd need to go through Four Awakenings to become a nova dragon, and only three dragons in the world have managed that."

"I'll be the fourth," Doomwing insisted. "Just you watch."

"Yeah. Yeah." Stormtooth padded forward as Mother Tree appeared, a dryad rising up out of the branch ahead of them. Unlike other trees, Mother Tree could make plenty of dryads, and she could hear and speak through all of them. That was how she was able to run so many classes at the same time. "We're supposed to be covering runes today, right?"

Doomwing nodded eagerly. "Yeah. That's what they said last time."

They took up their spots on the branch and waited patiently as Mother Tree checked to make sure everyone was there. Dion appeared soon after, his god-metal body gleaming in the sun, divine runes inscribed upon his skin. He was the same size as an adult elf, but he carried himself with a grace and power that no elf could match. He held a wineskin in one hand, and there was a box of food in the other. Doomwing sniffed the air and sighed. His friend had sealed it to make sure the smell would not spread. Perhaps he would share whatever was in it with him later.

"Now that you are all here," Mother Tree began in a soft, musical voice. "We may begin." She nodded. "Dion."

The god stepped forward. His eyes were gemstones of topaz and garnet, and they both shone with iridescent light as he began to speak. "Today, we will be covering runes. Now, I'm sure you have all heard a great many things about runes. Some are probably true. Others are probably false. Our task today is to provide you with some understanding of what runes are and why learning them would be a good thing."

Dion raised one hand and traced a symbol in the air. The symbol pulsed, and warm, gentle light washed over them. "The world is a story," Dion said. "Written by the gods and those who work alongside them. Runes are the words that make up that story. In the beginning, before the world was made, there were only the Seven Gods, and each of them discovered a primordial rune. It was with those seven primordial runes that they created the world and all the life that now dwells within it. Yet the Seven Gods were not the only ones who could use runes. Divine runes are the runes used by the other gods, and although none are so mighty as the seven primordial runes, they can nevertheless add to and change the story of the world."

Mother Tree smiled. "In time, the creations of the gods learned to use their own runes. These are the ancient runes, those wielded by the oldest and greatest creations of the gods. Dragons can wield them, as can I and my daughters."

Doomwing puffed out his chest and nudged Stormtooth. "Dragons are awesome, aren't they?"

She grinned back. "Of course."

"Below the ancient runes are greater runes, lesser runes, and basic runes that can be used by other creatures who are not blessed with the same level of power," Dion said. "The most important requirement for using runes is that you have a soul because only those who have souls can use runes."

"Why is that?" a young elf child near the front asked.

"The world's story is written with runes," Dion replied. "To use a rune is to change the story of the world. You can think of it as changing fate or destiny. But fate and destiny to not bow to just anyone. You need something special to push against the tide, something that tells the world you're worth listening to. That thing is a soul. It is why only the Seven Gods can use primordial runes. Only their souls have the power to use them. Likewise, only gods can use divine runes because our souls are different from others. Likewise, only the mightiest other souls like dragons or Mother Tree can use ancient runes."

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Dion smiled. "Now, you might be asking why you should bother learning runes when you all can use other kinds of magic." There were nods all around. "It is true that all of you have magic of your own. For some of you, it is almost instinctive, as much a part of you as your arm or your leg. For others, it is something you learn. Such magic is generally divided into orders, with each order being more powerful and complex than the one before. The more talented of you have already progressed as far as the fifth order, but you still have a long way to go. Even a weak god like me can still use magic of the tenth order with relative ease." He paused, and his expression grew serious. "You want to learn runes because they are capable of doing things that other magic cannot. When you use other magic properly, you change the world around you. When you use runes properly, the world itself changes for you. That might not sound like a big difference, but think of it like this. Let's say you're on the beach. You could make a little wave by moving the water around with your hands or flapping your wings. If you were big enough and strong enough, you could even make a very big wave. But could that wave compare to the power of the tides themselves, to the sea itself moving from its very depths all the way to the surface? Of course not. What is the power of even the mightiest individual compared to the entire sea? After all, even the gods who made the sea did not make it alone, and even now, not a single one of them could command all of it without help."

Doomwing listened intently. His parents had told him about runes, but they did not have Dion's flair for speech, nor did they have his easy charm. People liked listening to him, and Doomwing was no different.

"Could you show us the difference?" Stormtooth asked.

"I was hoping someone would ask that." Dion chuckled. "Mother Tree, a target, if you could?"

The dryad sighed and then gestured. Part of the branch rose up into a shape that roughly resembled a tree. "Try not to make too much of a mess."

"As if a mere fire could harm you." Dion pointed. "I'll start off with a simple seventh-order fire spell." The words were accompanied by a flash of light and heat followed by a tremendous boom. A sphere of searing flame enveloped the target. The air burned, and the shockwave of the blast washed over them. The attack would have melted a hill into little more than a puddle of molten rock. As the spell faded, Doomwing peered at the target. It was scorched and burnt but largely intact. "Are you trying to make me look bad?" Dion asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mother Tree covered her mouth with one hand to hide a giggle. "Work hard, children, or you'll end up like him."

"You wound me." Dion clutched at his chest dramatically before straightening. "As you can see, a mere seventh-order spell failed to inflict anything more than superficial damage on the target. How about if I use a greater rune of fire?" He gestured, and Mother Tree called up an identical target. Dion traced intricate shapes in the air, and a tangle of crimson light appeared around the target.

And then it burned.

Within seconds, the target had been reduced to ash that spread on the breeze.

"And that, children, is why you should learn runes." Dion sketched a bow, and Doomwing sat up straighter, as did the others. "When I used a seventh-order spell, I was trying to burn the target. When I used a greater rune of fire, the world itself commanded the target to burn. Notice how quickly the target burned and how there was basically no collateral damage. This is what a rune can do."

"So all of us can do that?" an elf child asked eagerly. Doomwing could see the gleam in her eyes at the thought of setting things on fire, a rarity amongst elves, most of whom seemed to dislike fire when it was used for destructive purposes.

"Yes and no. In theory, anyone of sufficient power can learn all the runes that require that level of power. However, the truth is that you will almost certainly find certain runes easier to use than others. For example, our dragon friends will almost certainly find themselves quite adept in using runes related to fire and destruction whereas our elf friends will be better with runes that govern growth, life, and nature. That doesn't mean you won't be able to use other runes, but you will have to work harder to learn and use them. But that's okay," Dion said. "Different doesn't mean bad, and the world would be boring if everyone was the same."

Mother Tree clapped her hands together. "Now, I'm sure you're all dying to give it a try." There were eager nods all around. "Spread out along the branch."

Doomwing found his own spot and readied himself. What rune would they be learning first? Perhaps Dion would teach him that rune he'd used to destroy the target, or maybe one that could alter gravity. In fact, he was pretty sure his mother used a gravity rune to drag him off his little hoard when he didn't feel like moving.

"Since your parents would be upset if any of you blew yourselves up, we will begin with a simpler rune." Dion smiled. "The basic rune for light."

Doomwing's eye twitched as Dion demonstrated. A small orb of light appeared over the god's hand before vanishing. "Now, here's what you need to do. You have to trace the rune and move your magic alongside the pattern. It's like this..."

Doomwing stared down at Mother Tree. The great tree was already burning, but even the combined efforts of the remaining dragons were not enough. She was regenerating almost as quickly as they could hurt her. What they needed was an attack with overwhelming power, one that could damage her so badly that her regeneration was completely overwhelmed. He'd already tried a twelfth-order spell. It hadn't been enough.

Deep down inside, he'd probably known that it wouldn't be.

All he had left now were runes. There was a part of him that rebelled at the thought of using them against Mother Tree. She, along with Dion, had been his first teachers in runes, and she had encouraged him to continue learning, long after others had set aside their studies in favour of honing other forms of magic. And why not? Learning and using runes became exponential more difficult at higher levels. A basic rune was easy enough, but by the time someone got to greater runes, it was like trying to draw dozens of different patterns at the same time while moving their magic in dozens of different ways too. The mental strain was enough to leave even many dragons with a headache. Stormtooth, his old friend, had never mastered anything above a lesser rune, though perhaps she might have if she hadn't died so young.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to reminisce.

His golden eyes flared, and he began to trace the components of an ancient rune. It was the equivalent of drawing thousands of different patterns simultaneously, all of them unique, and all of which had to fit together in exactly the right way and in exactly the right order. The failure of even a single component would result in the ancient rune as a whole failing, which would most likely lead to his brains leaking out of his skull. At the same time, his magic flowed outward, empowering the countless patterns in precisely the right order and with exactly the right amount of power.

His nose began to bleed, and his eyes wept bloody tears. Below him, Mother Tree's attention turned upward. She must have sensed the threat. She began to form her own ancient rune, but Doomwing was faster, and he'd started before she had. Even this wouldn't be enough to kill her, but it would hurt her enough that the others could actually deal lasting damage to her. She reached out to him, her melodic voice pleading for his understanding, for his kindness, for his mercy.

He hardened his heart.

The ancient rune completed.

And the world erupted.

A coruscating beam of raw heat and force lanced down from the summit of the heavens like the spear of one of the long-dead gods of the First Age. It was light beyond blinding, fire beyond burning. Everything it hit, it annihilated. The clouds boiled away. The air burned and blasted outward. And the soil was instantly melted into glass before disintegrating. Only Mother Tree withstood the blast, her great branches sheltering her, her stout trunk standing firm... but only for a few moments.

Before the power of the rune, even Mother Tree could not remain unscathed. Doomwing sagged, tumbling out of the air and crashing onto the ground as he devoted every scrap of power he had to fuelling the rune. The Mother Tree was determined to write her own story, but Doomwing would not let her have everything her own way. The world changed to accommodate his demands, and the beam of light intensified, a cosmic drill that could have burned through the world itself if the Mother Tree hadn't been in its path.

But not even his massive reserves could fuel the rune for long. The beam petered out, and Doomwing forced himself to rise. Mother Tree was still standing, but her leaves had all been burnt, and great chunks of ruined bark fell from her trunk. She was screaming, and he wished to all the gods that had died that he did not have to hear it. Choking on the words, he forced himself to speak.

"Attack!" he boomed. "Now! Hit her with everything you have!"

Dragon fire answered his call, and Mother Tree burned as she had never burned before.

Chapter 6: The Princess And The Tree

Doomwing stared at the princess. She was gawping at him like a fool. "You have twenty minutes to secure a flight-capable mount and pack whatever supplies you wish to bring to my territory."

"Twenty minutes?" Antaria blurted. "But... but I need time to prepare! I have to think about what supplies to bring, which members of staff should accompany me, and..."

Doomwing smiled and leaned forward until his massive jaws were only a few feet from her face. "You are wasting time, princess, and you won't be needing any members of staff."

"I... I won't?"

"The blood of Elerion the Valiant flows through your veins. It might have thinned over the years, but I'm hoping you're not completely useless. I intend to train you as I trained him." Doomwing pulled his head back and chuckled. "Your ancestor was quite possibly the greatest human to ever live, and he still barely survived my training. Honestly, I think it was a combination of power, determination, and sheer, bloody-minded spite that saw him through it. The first thing he did after his initial training was complete was try to stab me. It failed, but it was good to know his spirit hadn't broken."

Antaria's mouth opened and closed, and then she turned and ran from the hall, presumably to pack and find her mount. Doomwing turned his attention back to Enarion. The new king fidgeted and looked very much like he would rather be anywhere else but there. Doomwing could have simply spoken, but he wanted to know how long Enarion would last before cracking. To the man's credit, he managed to last twenty seconds before he could no longer hold himself back.

"Have I done something wrong, dragon emperor?"

"No." Doomwing settled back onto his haunches. A slab of scorched masonry tumbled loose from the broken remains of the roof, and he batted it aside. "I want to know more about the financial state of this kingdom. How does it make money? Where are its taxes invested? What needs to be improved for it to make more money? You have until the princess returns, so be concise."

Enarion took a deep breath. "It's like this..."

What followed was a surprisingly informative summary of the kingdom's financial situation. Apparently, the kingdom had originally made most of its money by selling fish drawn from the lake nearby. That lake was full of magic, probably because Doomwing had used his own power to create it and had chosen to situate over several intersecting magical currents. As a result of that magic, the fish in the lake were larger, tastier, and more nutritious than could be found elsewhere. The difference wasn't much in Doomwing's eyes, but humans were far less powerful than dragons. Even small differences could be very important to them.

Water from the lake had also been used to water nearby fields, and the crops there were similarly boosted by the lake's properties. Of course, those fields had eventually been superseded by the fields under the dryad's influence, right up until some idiot had tried to use magic they couldn't properly control or understand to boost the crop yields even further. They'd failed, and the kingdom's breadbasket was now a dust bowl where only weeds could survive.

Nevertheless, the kingdom's early kings had done a good job of defending its territory and securing important trade routes. The kingdom had access to several ports to the south, along with a number of trade routes to the west. They also made a fair bit of money transporting and then selling the extra crops that were produced in Doomwing's territory, which would explain why the previous king had been eager to seize those villages. There were also half a dozen productive mines scattered throughout the kingdom's territory that produced reasonable quantities of iron, copper, silver, and gold.

However, the true source of the kingdom's wealth lay in the wise investments that Enarion had made over the past few decades. He had used the kingdom's treasury to invest in various merchant companies, mercenary groups, and guilds. He hadn't always picked the right ones, but he had been diligent in doing his research. As a result, he had won more often than he'd lost, and the kingdom had made substantial quantities of money while acquiring influence that stretched beyond its borders. That had probably fuelled the previous king's ambition too.

Enarion's plan was to modernise the kingdom's financial system, turning it into a place where it was easy to own and operate a business, thereby attracting more merchants, mercenaries, and guilds. It was a strategy that Doomwing had seen several times in the past. The merchant kings of the Fourth Age had used it to become the richest people in the world, save for dragons like himself, with their extensive economic links to other countries making it almost impossible for anyone to attack them. Until millions of undead had shown up.

Zombies didn't much care for coin.

"You have done well with what resources you have," Doomwing said. Enarion practically collapsed in relief. "I will watch your performance closely. If you continue to do well, I may even give you some of my funds to invest."

"You honour me, dragon emperor!" Enarion stammered. "I will do my best."

Good. The man seemed to understand what it meant for a dragon to entrust their gold to someone else for investment purposes.

Antaria hurried back into the hall. "I... I'm back!" She was panting heavily. A winged unicorn trotted along beside her, and the stallion's saddlebags were already full. "Am... am I late?"

"No. You are roughly twenty seconds early." Doomwing's lips curled. "And of course you have a winged unicorn."

"What's wrong with a winged unicorn?" Antaria asked. The stallion at her side nodded his head and flared his wings in a threat display. Doomwing rolled his eyes and matched the gesture. The sudden rush of wind would have sent them all flying if he hadn't used his magic to hold them in place.

"Unicorns are uppity, judgemental jerks," Doomwing said. "Who spend far too much time worrying about the virginity of other people."

Antaria's face went a brilliant shade of red. Her dark hair was a sharp contrast to the golden blond that Elerion had sported, but her violet eyes were much the same. "What?"

"You don't know? A unicorn will only allow a virgin to ride it."

"..." Antaria's eye twitched. "I was under the impression that they would only allow those pure of heart to ride them."

"No. Pureness of heart has absolutely nothing to do with it."

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"But... but how do they even know if you're a virgin?" Antaria asked. Her gaze went to her stallion who very deliberately looked away.

"Innate magic, if you can believe it, not unlike how hydras can regenerate." Doomwing scoffed. "Yes, you might be thinking, what sort of stupid innate magic is that, but the gods of the First Age could be very capricious. I should know. I met the Mother and Father of Unicorns. Both of them were pretentious, judgemental, and utterly hypocritical. Neither would let anyone ride on them unless they were a virgin, but they had no qualms about breeding like rabbits."

Antaria covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe I'm only just learning this now..."

"Blame your unicorn. He could have told you."

"What? Unicorns can talk?" Antaria grabbed the reins of her unicorn and glared into his eyes. "Is that true?"

"They can't physically talk, but they can use magic to communicate their thoughts although it's possible that your unicorn simply doesn't know how."

"I did find him when he was very young," Antaria replied. "His parents were eaten by a dragon -"

"Probably because they taunted the dragon for being a virgin or for being promiscuous. They're judgemental enough to hate both and stupid enough to think they can outrun a dragon in the air."

Antaria had the gumption to scowl at him, which was actually quite refreshing even if she wasn't nearly as good at trying to kill him with her eyes as Elerion had been. That fool had actually paid a gorgon very handsomely to see if she could teach him to use his eyes to attack people. "It was awful. He couldn't have been very old at all. I begged my father to let me keep him, and he's been with me ever since." She paused. "Wait... my maid and his stablehand both used to be able to ride him, but last week..."

"They weren't able to ride him anymore?" Doomwing chortled. "It seems that your maid and that stablehand are closer than you might think." Doomwing almost smiled. Ah. This was actually quite fun. It reminded him of the time Marcus had played a prank on Elerion by switching his usual horse out with a unicorn hidden beneath an illusion, only for the young man to ride the the unicorn without skipping a beat. The look on his face when he'd found out had been almost as funny as the look on his face when Marcus had dragged him off to a brothel. "Anyway, your unicorn will do for now, but be careful."

"Of what?"

"There will be a lot of travelling to be done in the future. You have not earned the privilege of riding on my back, so you will need your winged unicorn to carry you. Do not do anything that might jeopardise that."

Antaria made a choking sound. "I... I would never!"

"You do plan on having children someday, I imagine. Find a different mount before then."

Doomwing took to the air. "Enarion, I will be providing you with a means of contacting me soon. Do your best and know that I will be watching." He turned to Antaria. "Follow me. We have a tree to pick up."

"A tree?" Antaria squawked. "What! Slow down!" She urged her unicorn on. "Come on, Swiftstride, we have to go faster!" The unicorn grumbled and did his best to keep up, but Doomwing was no mere hatchling. There was nothing in the world except another primordial dragon who could match him in the air even if he had no intention of flying at full speed. "Wait!"

"Unicorns," Doomwing muttered. "As slow in the air as they are on the ground." He gestured, and magic washed over Swiftstride. "There. That should give you the speed to keep pace and the stamina to stay in the air for the rest of the journey."

"What kind of magic was that?" Antaria shouted as she and her unicorn fell into formation beside him.

"Two spells of the seventh-order. I could probably have gotten away with using spells of the fifth-order, but humans can't fly. It would be a hassle if you fell to your death before you had a chance to serve me."

"Uh... thanks?" Antaria pressed herself against her mount, the wind rushing past threatening to pull her hair out the bun she'd tied it into. "What's this about a tree?"

Daphne had expected the dragon to return. Dragons were many things, but they were not oath breakers. However, she had not expected him to return with a princess.

"Please, tell me you didn't kidnap the princess," Daphne said.

"Would she be riding on her own mount if I had kidnapped her? No. I merely gave her an ultimatum, and she chose to comply."

"That's the same thing as kidnapping!" Daphne cried. She sighed. "Never mind. How were you planning on transporting me?"

"I could simply use my claws to dig you out of the ground and carry you."

"Please, don't. And please don't forget that you're going to be bringing my friends along with me." The various animals who relied on her to survive had all gathered in her branches. "You said you'd protect them too."

"In that case, my magic will have to do." Doomwing lifted one claw. "Make sure that all of your friends are with you and that you have nothing else you wish to bring."

Daphne did a quick check. Yep. All of the animals were there. Strangely enough, they seemed more eager than scared. They must have realised that the blight that had ruined the once fertile fields was slowly but surely closing in. "I'm ready."

"Good."

The dragon's magic stirred, and a sphere of power surrounded her. It was large enough to completely encompass not only her tree but a decent chunk of the courtyard as well. The sphere rose up into the air, and Daphne tried to keep her expression calm as Doomwing began to fly east, the sphere floating along beside him. She managed to stay calm right up until she made the mistake of looking down. She'd never flown before, so to see how high they were and how fast they were going as the ground blurred past beneath them...

"Ah!" Daphne screamed. "Ah!"

"Stop screaming!" Doomwing growled. "You're completely safe."

And then the sphere began to spin around, twirling in circles around him and then doing loops in the sky. Somehow, despite the insane way the sphere moved, her tree remain perfectly at ease, as if they were still on the ground. Rather than comforting her, her animal friends were instead shouting encouragement and asking if the dragon could do other tricks.

"See? You're completely safe."

"Ah!"

Not far away, the princess could only wince and shake her head. "And I thought I had it bad..."

Chapter 7: The Dragon Has A Plan

Dawn broke as they neared the first village that Doomwing had visited. As always, his blood sang as the sun crested the horizon and began its ascent, its passage marked by rays of orange, pink, crimson, and gold. Long ago, when he had been a mere hatchling, curious but ignorant of the world and his place in it, he had asked Mother Tree how dragons were made. She had scratched his scales and stared off at a past that only a select few could remember.

"I was there when the first dragons were brought into the world. With fire and wind the Seven Gods made them. For their scales, they drew strength from the towering peaks of the world, the lonely mountains that stand unyielding in the face of time and wind and rain and sorrow. That is why your scales are strong, why you need no shelter to protect you, and why only the mightiest of weapons can do you harm. Their teeth and claws were made in the image of the spears and swords of the Seven Gods. That is why you need no weapons. Your teeth and claws are greater than any you might be given. For their wings, they called upon the sky and the boundless horizons no one may reach. That is why the skies welcome you, why no mortal creature can catch a dragon in full flight. And for their hearts, the Seven Gods took the fire of the sun and set it within their chests. That is why no dragon need fear the cold, why no dragon knows cowardice, and why no dragon will ever kneel."

Doomwing had been so very young then, and he had puffed out his chest and flared his wings. He had been proud to be a dragon, and he could not imagine a world where his kind did not fill the skies and soar unchallenged from horizon to horizon. And then the Broken God had come, and he had seen firsthand the day that all the might and splendour of the dragons had faltered. There had been so many of them, gleaming scales of every shade and colour, the beating of wings like a thousand storms rolling across the sky.

Only the oldest of them had stayed aloft in the face of the Broken God's wrath, and they had answered the laughter of the Broken God with roars of fury. They had died, all of them, those dragons who the Seven Gods had made with their own hands. But they had not died easily, and the rents in the corrupted god-metal of the Broken God's body had never healed, endless scars torn into his divine essence by those he considered beneath him. Dragons had not felled the Broken God, but the wounds they inflicted had shown he could be hurt, and what could be hurt could be killed.

Doomwing shook his head to clear away the memories. Now was not the time.

"Are we going to land at that village?" Antaria asked.

"No. But we will be landing nearby." Doomwing gestured with one claw at a place perhaps a mile and a half from the village. "There."

"Is there any particular reason?" Antaria was looking more than a bit bleary eyed. She was clearly not used to travelling for so long at such high speeds.

"Dryads require good soil and clean water to grow. However, to reach their full potential they require ready access to magic. That place is the intersection of several major currents of ambient magic. It is why the fields in this area are so fertile."

Daphne stirred. She had spent the past hour or so hunched over in a ball and refusing to even look at the ground. As a dragon, Doomwing found her reaction pathetic. However, she was a tree, and trees were not accustomed to flying. In his entire life, he had only known one dryad who had loved the skies, and she had perished at the end of the Third Age. It had been a good death, glorious and proud, worthy of even the greatest of dragons, flying headlong into the very teeth of the Third Catastrophe. But it was still a death, and he still missed her and the splendid city that had once soared through the clouds.

"So... we'll be landing soon?" Daphne smiled weakly as one of the raccoons hopped down to pat her on the head. The raccoons had actually been far more impressive. They seemed to find flight invigorating, and Doomwing was wondering what would happen if he gifted them with relics that allowed them to fly. If nothing else, it would be amusing.

"Yes. I will plant you once we land, and then we shall discuss my plans."

"Does that include your plans for me?" Antaria asked.

"Yes." Doomwing smiled toothily, and the princess quailed. "Fear not. You will not die if you can meet my expectations."

The princess blinked. "What... what if I can't meet your expectations?"

"Do your people still prefer to burn dead royalty upon funeral pyres, or do they bury them in the ground now?"

"..."

They landed soon afterward, and Doomwing motioned for Antaria and her unicorn to move aside as he dug his claws into the earth. He tore a great clod of soil up out of the ground and brought it to his face. It was good soil, rich in nutrients and magic. He let the soil tumble back to the ground and then used his magic to carve out a suitable hole to replant Daphne's tree.

"You've done this before," Daphne murmured.

"I helped kill Mother Tree, but I did not hate her. Many of her daughters required aid in the years that followed. Once I could be sure they had no intention of repeating her actions, I did what I could to help them." Doomwing lowered Daphne's tree into the spot he had prepared for her. "She helped care for me when I was a hatchling. I am not so ungrateful a wretch that I would forget that debt." He raised a claw and conjured water, infusing it with magic and allowing it to rain down on Daphne's tree and the soil around her. "How is it?"

The dryad's eyes were closed, and she gave a low hum of contentment. "The soil is much better here, and there is plenty of magic. That water was excellent too." Her gaze turned distant, and he could tell that she was reaching out for the currents of magic that flowed through the land, her roots eager and hungry. "The currents of magic are definitely impressive, but they seem..."

"Messy and clogged?" Doomwing chuckled. "That is to be expected."

Antaria walked over, and Swiftstride followed behind her. Doomwing would give the unicorn credit. He had been ready to use a spell to restore the unicorn's stamina, but the stallion had flown though the night without complaint. Now, his breathing was only just returning to normal, and sweat shone upon his skin. The gleaming white of his horn had dulled, but it would regain its lustre with some rest.

"Could you explain more about the currents of magic?" The princess made a face. "Um... I know what they are, but you must know more about them than me."

"Not bad. You are at least willing to admit your own ignorance."

"Hey!" Antaria scowled. "Please, don't call me stupid."

"I did not call you stupid. I called you ignorant." Doomwing snorted. "Ignorance is caused by a lack of knowledge and can be remedied by providing that knowledge. Stupidity, however, is caused by a lack of intelligence and is far more difficult to fix."

"Oh." Antaria blinked. "Um, thanks, then... maybe?"

"It was both a compliment and an insult." Doomwing ignored her spluttering and began his explanation. "The currents of magic that flow through the land are caused by a variety of different factors. Those are not important right now. What is important is that you can think of these currents as being similar to the arteries and veins of a body. And just like arteries and veins, they can grow clogged and dirty. When that happens, both the quantity and quality of magic that can be drawn from them is reduced. You, princess, have probably not noticed this because humans are generally unable to absorb magic from their surroundings without training. However, dryads are different. They must absorb magic from their surroundings to grow."

"Wait... are you saying that I could absorb magic from my surroundings if I had training?" Antaria asked.

"Well spotted. Yes, but we will get to that later. As it is, there is more than enough magic here for Daphne to grow, and she possesses sufficient skill and power to purify it to her standards. However, she will grow faster, thereby increasing my tribute more swiftly, if she has access to larger quantities of purer magic. That is why I will be returning to my volcano shortly. I will begin cleansing the currents of magic starting from my lair and then working through my territory until I reach this area. This should, if my estimations are correct, more than triple her rate of growth. It will likely take me a few weeks."

"You can do that?" Daphne asked. "I could purify the currents around me, but my range would be limited to a few miles at most. It would also take me years."

"Why do you think so many people have called them dragon lines throughout history? Dragons are extremely adept not only at absorbing magic from their surroundings but also at influencing the magic in their surroundings. I am a primordial dragon. My lesser kin could never hope to accomplish in centuries what I can do in weeks."

"Oh. Thank you." Daphne bowed. "It means a lot."

Doomwing leaned over and turned his head, so he could stare into her eyes. "I am doing a great deal for you, dryad. I expect great things in return."

"Eep." Daphne squeaked. "I'll do my best."

"See that you do. I will also try to find tree-folk to act as your guardians." Doomwing grumbled. "I don't know where any are, but I can probably ask Marcus... he probably knows. And if not, I can use the mirror. It'll be a hassle, but I should be able to find some... never mind." He straightened. "In the meantime, I will ensure that you are properly defended."

He tossed a dozen greater runes of protection at Daphne.

"There. There is now absolutely nothing in my territory other than me that can harm you. And if anything strong enough comes, I should be able to sense it and respond in time."

"You just used a dozen greater runes..." Daphne swallowed thickly. "It was a struggle for me to maintain two to keep the blight away and keep my animal friends fed."

"I would have used ancient runes, but as you are now, being in their presence for extended periods of time would have done permanent damage to you." Doomwing turned his attention to Antaria. "And as for you..."

"As for me?" The princess fidgeted. She was so worried about him that she barely seemed to notice the enterprising squirrel that had climbed onto her and was rummaging through her pockets in search of food. Almost without thinking, she reached down and pulled the squirrel away before tossing the rodent back to Daphne who was splitting her attention between basking in her improved living conditions and worrying at his expectations.

"The three great enemies of a ruler are weakness, ignorance, and naivety. There are others of course, but those three have, from my observation, been responsible for the downfall of many rulers. As of now, princess, you are weak and ignorant. As for your naivety? Well, we shall see about that soon enough. Fortunately, there is an easy cure for your problems. Strength and knowledge."

Antaria nodded. "I see. So you will be training me to acquire strength and knowledge."

"You will need both not only to survive but also to administer my lands as effectively as possible." Doomwing reached out with his magic. He ripped another clod of dirt out of the ground and imbued it with a small fraction of his power. The dirt quivered and then began to change, giving way to red and blue scales and wings that were slightly too large compared to the rest of the body. "Since I will be going to my volcano to begin altering the currents of magic, I will be leaving behind a shard of my power to conduct your education."

Antaria said nothing for a moment before jabbing one finger at the draconic construct he'd made. "What is that? It's... it's adorable! Look at how stubby the tail is, and the wings are too big! And look at that face! It's not scary like yours!"

Doomwing gave a low rumble. "Since you are a but a hatchling about to begin proper training, I thought it fitting that the shard I left behind take on the form I had when I was but a hatchling. But do not underestimate it. Even the sliver of my power that animates it would be sufficient to crush your kingdom."

The little dragon shook itself, and Doomwing was once again greeted by the familiar but vaguely annoying sensation of being in two bodies at once. He'd gotten up to a lot of mischief after first learning this ability although it wasn't really as useful in battle as it might seem. The absolute focus and concentration required to use ancient runes and the most powerful magics meant that splitting his consciousness between multiple bodies was usually a terrible idea.

"I will be in charge of your training," the little dragon said, and Antaria jerked back, perhaps startled at his deep, earth-shaking voice coming out of a construct that was only twelve feet long. "Do not think I shall go easy on you. If anything, this makes it easier for me to be hard on you since I do not have to worry about accidentally crushing you by stepping on you."

Antaria gulped. "So when will my training begin?"

Doomwing took to the air. "I will return once I have dealt with the currents of magic."

"As for your training," the construct said. "It begins now!"

Antaria had endured what she believed to be gruelling training since she'd been a little girl. She was a princess, so she had access to the kingdom's finest warriors and mages to tutor her. However, she was only now realising that their training had not been nearly brutal enough.

The dragon construct had broken her sword with a single stout bite within the first ten seconds of the fight starting. It had broken her arm a moment later, and she had used what little healing magic she knew in a desperate attempt to make the limb useable again. The construct had apparently taken that personally, and it had spent the past ten minutes pummelling her without mercy. She was fairly sure one of her legs was broken, and if she didn't have at least a few broken ribs, she would be shocked.

Daphne was watching the entire thing in silent horror but had made no move to intervene, perhaps worried that she might have to join in as well. Her animal friends, though, were cheering Antaria on although she had a sneaking suspicion that the squirrels were using nuts to bet on how much longer she would last. Those little bastards...

A final blow thumped into her, and she had a wonderful view of the sky before gravity decided to reintroduce itself and she landed in a broken heap.

"Hmmm..." Doomwing's voice came through the construct, utterly at odds with its adorable appearance. No. It wasn't adorable anymore. It was all a lie, a way of tricking her into thinking the construct was harmless, so it could mangle her. "You aren't completely hopeless. I was expecting you to plead for mercy several minutes ago."

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Antaria glared at him balefully. "Would you have given it?"

"No. But the fact you didn't ask speaks well of you." The construct padded over and gave her a poke in the stomach with its stubby tail. "Even so, I have learned a lot from this fight. You take after your ancestor in some important ways."

"I do?" Antaria tried to sit up and then thought better of it. "How?"

"Elerion was actually quite bad at magic," Doomwing said. "In fact, he really only excelled at one type of magic."

"Attack magic?" Antaria really hoped it was attack magic. The idea of throwing lightning or heaving fire at her enemies was certainly tempting, and if she happened to blow this construct into powder that was simply a coincidence.

"No. He was awful at attack magic to the point I thought he was pretending to be that bad since I had a hard time believing anyone could be so hopeless at it." Doomwing chuckled. "The magic he excelled at was what many termed enhancement or amplification magic. In essence, he took the innate qualities of things and enhanced or amplified them."

"That sounds... interesting."

She must not have done a good job of hiding her dismay because Doomwing laughed. "In many ways, it is quite boring. He could barely muster a fireball, and throwing lightning was more likely to make his opponents hair stick up than actually electrocute them. But he could make himself orders of magnitude stronger and faster than a normal man, and he could take a blade of steel and carve through solid rock like it was paper."

Antaria's eyes widened. "That doesn't sound too bad, actually." She paused. "And it might explain why I've struggled to learn any attack magic but have always been okay with the spells for hastening movement and boosting strength."

"Those spells are pathetic. I will be teaching you better spells along with whatever runes you can learn."

This time, Antaria did sit up. "Runes? Like what you used on Daphne?"

"No. You lack the power to use even a single one of those runes. But even the least of runes will still be more effective than whatever magic you already know." Doomwing's construct leaned over and nudged her with its head. "But we have a lot of work to do first, particularly with regards to your magical reserves."

"I think I have decently large magical reserves," Antaria replied. "My tutors always said so."

"Your tutors knew nothing." Doomwing had the construct jab her in the stomach with its claw. Thankfully, it was the blunt side of the claw, or her guts would have spilled onto the ground. "Hmm... you're tolerating the pain from your broken bones quite well."

Antaria made a face. She had been doing her very best to keep movement to a minimum until sitting up. Now, though, she was starting to get woozy. "If you could at least help me with that..."

Magic washed over her. However, instead of being fully healed, her body was instead filled with a series of aches and pains, albeit less severe than they had been.

"Your body will not improve if I heal you completely," Doomwing said. "Leaving a certain portion of your injuries intact will help you grow stronger and push your body to adapt. Surely, you are familiar with using magic to strengthen your body. Doing that while you are injured will push your body to strengthen itself."

Antaria remained silent. She had heard of the technique, and she could even use it a bit, but what he had described didn't seem to match her experience.

The flat stare of the construct was telling. "Show me your version of the technique." She did, and the construct somehow managed to snort. "No wonder you're so weak. What you are doing is incorrect. Simply surging magic into the part of your body you want to strengthen is a good way to rupture your organs and ruin the channels that carry magic through your body. It is, admittedly, easier to do and reasonably effective at lower levels, but it is not what you will be doing from now on."

Antaria squeaked as raw power flooded through her veins. She was vaguely aware of a dull roar filling her ears and her vision tunnelling and then going white before awareness returned, and she felt currents of power flowing back and forth through her body.

"There," Doomwing said. "Can you feel that?"

She nodded slowly. "I... I can."

"Grasp that feeling. Carve it into your memory." That torrent of power that had overwhelmed her was gentler now, moving her own magic back and forth through her body in rhythmic cycles. "Keep your attention on that feeling." Slowly, the power withdrew, and her magic began to fall still. "Do not let your magic stop moving. Copy what you felt before. Circulate your magic through your body."

Antaria didn't bother to question him. Instead, she grasped onto the reins of her magic and began to push it around as best she could. It was hard - like trying to wade through mud - and the motion felt so clumsy and weak compared to what she'd experienced, but her magic began to move, awkwardly mirroring what she'd felt before. "What... what did you do to me?"

"For those who have never circulated their magic before, the very idea of it can seem foreign. However, it is something that naturally occurs for creatures like dragons and dryads who frequently absorb magic from their surroundings. Humans, though, are adaptable creatures. Once you are shown how to do it, the more talented amongst you can manage to do it on their own. Congratulations." Doomwing's voice was dry. "You are not completely hopeless."

"What... what does this do?" Antaria asked. "It feels... good." And it did. The aches and pains in her body were being soothed, and her mind no longer felt dull and fuzzy.

"Circulating your magic in this manner serves several purposes. The most immediate purpose is that it quickens healing while promoting growth and development. This will allow you to handle training that would kill normal people."

"What... what if I hadn't been able to do it?" Antaria asked although she had a sneaking suspicion of what he would say.

"It is fortunate that you were able to learn it so quickly." Doomwing's construct paced around her in a slow circle. "The second reason is going to become apparent right about... now."

Antaria gasped and then paled as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She was suddenly cold, and her limbs began to tremble. "What's happening?"

"Magical exhaustion. When you circulate your magic like this, it is consumed to heal your injuries, improve your body, and so on. Because your reserves of magic are so small, it's hardly surprising that you've already exhausted them." The construct shrugged. "Of course, magical exhaustion of this level is several times worse than regular magical exhaustion, so you will likely fall into a coma or die in the next ten minutes."

"What?" Antaria shrieked. "Magical exhaustion isn't supposed to do that!"

"Magical exhaustion caused by spell usage usually occurs before your reserves can truly run dry. Circulating your magic allows you to completely empty them if you're not careful."

"Why... why didn't you warn me?" Antaria was seeing double now, and she was vaguely aware of several squirrels exchanging nuts.

"Because Elerion always learnt best when he was on the verge of death, and I want to see if you are the same." Doomwing chortled. "And because when your reserves are almost completely empty, it becomes easier for you to feel and absorb the magic around you."

"What?"

"Humans do not naturally absorb significant quantities of magic from their surroundings. It's just how you are. But they can learn to do that. What you need to do is to reach out with your senses. Focus on feeling the magic around you. You're probably feeling cold right now. Ambient magic will feel warm. You need to focus on that warmth. Imagine it flowing into you. Think of sitting in front of a camp fire and warming your hands. Imagine that heat and energy filling you like water emptying from a jug into your cup."

Antaria tried to do what he said. She really did. But she couldn't feel anything except the cold. She was shivering now, and she was certain her lips were blue. A few of the raccoons looked like they wanted to help her, but the construct stretched one wing out to bar their path.

"Do not interfere," Doomwing said. "And do not say a word, Daphne. I have told her enough. If she cannot grasp it now, then she may never be able to do so. This is not something to be thought about and intellectualised. It is to be experience and felt."

Antaria fell onto her back. The edges of her vision began to darken. She tried to get up, but her limbs refused to obey. She felt heavy and light at the same time. Was she dying?

"Open your mind," Doomwing's voice seemed to come from far away. "Stop trying to see the world with your pitiful human eyes. Magic does not come from flesh and bone. It comes from the soul, and it is with your soul that you must feel the world around you."

Her soul? Antaria became aware of something inside herself, a small, flickering, faltering light. It was like a candle in the long and hungry dark, but it was her candle, her light. Her eyes were closed, but she saw it clearly. And then, as the darkness closed in on her, she saw more candles in the dark. One by one they appeared, so faint she was only sure they existed because of the absolute darkness that surrounded them. But then she saw another light, brighter, not a candle but a campfire. Were these souls? Who did they belong to? What was... her attention went north, and there she saw a star, blinding and bright.

And then, from the darkness, came rivers of light and flame, currents of power born of the land and all the things above, below, and within it. Several of those rivers intersected beneath her, and a shimmering mist of magic rose up. She reached for it desperately, greedily, clawing at it with frantic hands and trying to inhale it with deep breaths.

So much of it escaped her. So much of it simply passed through her. But she caught some of it, and it flowed into her, rushing through her body in burning rivers of power that turned her veins to fire and threatened to set her soul ablaze.

"Circulate it through your body," Doomwing growled. "You must circulate it through your body to purify it before absorbing it into your reserves. Otherwise, you will injure yourself."

"It hurts..." Antaria said. "It burns."

"You can hurt and burn, or you can embrace the cold of death. Those are your choices."

So Antaria burned, and she circulated the magic she'd pulled from her surroundings through her body as best she could. Gradually, ever so gradually, it changed, and after a while, it settled deep inside her, flowing into the pool of power she recognised as the source of her magic. The pool was all but empty, but it filled rapidly until she felt a stretching sensation, like a muscle being pulled taut.

"Enough," Doomwing said. "Stop absorbing magic. Now."

Antaria cut off her connection to the magic around her. If anything, it was easier to cut it off than to absorb it. Then she opened her eyes. Daphne was wringing her hands nearby, a healing spell flickering in and out of existence. Doomwing's construct simply stared down at her.

"Acceptable," he said.

Antaria made a choking sound and did the first thing that came to mind. She kicked the construct in the side with all the strength that could muster.

"Ah!" Antaria wailed. "My leg."

"Congratulations," Doomwing drawled. "You broke your leg. Let this be a lesson to you. Always determine the durability of your foe before kicking them." The construct took a step back, and healing magic washed over the broken limb. "In recognition of your efforts, I will heal your injury instead of making you fix it yourself."

"How kind," Antaria said.

"I am known as a generous soul," Doomwing replied. "Now, tell me, do you sense any changes in the size of your magical reserves?"

Antaria peered back inside herself and gasped. "They're... they're bigger!"

"Yes. This is the other reason that you must learn how to circulate magic and how to absorb it from your surroundings. Humans can produce magic naturally. This magic exerts a sort of 'pressure' on their reserves, expanding them over time. However, humans actually have reserves that are quite flexible. Pressure that would cause an elf's magical reserves to explode and kill them will not kill a human. Instead, a human's reserves will grow in response to that pressure."

"But then... how do elves have so much more magic than humans?" Antaria asked.

"Elves live far longer than humans, so even if their reserves grow more slowly, they can eventually grow much larger. Humans can, with the right training, increase their reserves quite rapidly in comparison to other species although, by the time they reach their peak, they will generally have smaller reserves than the strongest elves. But there are exceptions. Elerion's reserves of magic were enormous even by elven standards, which allowed him to do things with his magic and runes that other humans could only have dreamed of."

"Then all of this training..."

"We will grow your reserves of magic. That in turn will allow us to push your physical training to inhuman levels while also allowing you to perform increasingly powerful magic." Doomwing gave rumble of amusement. "It will, of course, be agonising, and the pain you have experienced today will be nothing compared to the agony you will feel while learning more advanced techniques." He paused. "Knowing that, do you wish to quit? This is your one and only chance."

Antaria got to her feet and then raised her foot to kick the construct again before thinking better off it. Instead, she waved her hand at Daphne, and the dryad handed her a tree branch. Taking the branch she brought it down on the construct with all the strength she could muster.

"What makes you think I'm going to quit!"

Doomwing bit back a smile as he continued his journey northward back to his volcano. Antaria was doing her best to pummel his construct with a tree branch and her newly enhanced strength and was accomplishing absolutely nothing.

Even so, he wasn't disappointed.

She was actually doing slightly better than Elerion. The boy - and he had been a boy at the time - had kicked him again when Doomwing had asked that question, and all he'd done was break his leg for the third time in a single afternoon. The look in Antaria's eyes right now was exactly the same as the one that had been in Elerion's. It hadn't been about learning or honour or anything like that. No. They had both wanted to keep going just so they could spite him.

Perfect.