BLOOD OF THE DRAGON GOD

Chapter 9: The Trial of fire

The sky belonged to the monsters until Logan climbed into the saddle of the world.

He did not hesitate, stepping onto the massive, armored snout of the beast and hauling himself up onto the rough ridge of its neck. The iron gray scales were hot against his palms, vibrating with a deep, rhythmic hum that matched the frantic pounding of his own heart.

Get up here, Logan yelled, extending his hand down toward Vivienne. We cannot close that rift from the dirt.

Vivienne looked at the towering creature, her face pale but her eyes blazing with sudden determination. She grabbed his hand, and Logan pulled her up behind him with a single, effortless tug. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, her breath hot against his neck.

Captain, take the children to the secondary barracks, Logan shouted down to Garrick, who was already marshaling the sobbing kids into a tight defensive formation.

Go, Garrick roared back, swinging his broadsword to decapitate a stray hound that tried to breach the courtyard. Do not let that portal widen any further. I will keep the ground secure.

Logan leaned forward, pressing his palm flat against the wyvern's neck, right above the thick muscle line. up, he whispered.

The beast let out a deafening roar that shook the soot from the nearby roofs. With a massive, explosive contraction of its hind legs, it launched itself into the burning air. The sudden force of the ascent slammed Logan back against Vivienne, the wind ripping the breath from his lungs as the burning streets of the lower district instantly shrank beneath them.

Airborne gargoyles, Vivienne screamed over the rushing wind, pointing her hand toward a swarm of dark, winged shapes rising from the purple vortex of the rift.

Hold on, Logan shouted back.

He closed his eyes for a split second, letting his mind connect with the wild consciousness of the beast. He did not need reins. He could feel its hunger, its rage, and its ancient loyalty to the bloodline burning in his chest. Logan leaned his body to the left, and the wyvern mirrored his movement, diving into a steep, breathtaking spiral that brought them right into the center of the demonic swarm.

Snap them, Logan commanded in his mind.

The wyvern snapped its colossal jaws, crushing two gargoyles instantly, its massive tail whipping around to shatter a third into a shower of gray dust.

They are coming from behind, Vivienne yelled.

She turned around on the beast's ridge, her fingers tracing a glowing blue circle in the air. A massive, translucent shield of ice magic erupted behind them, catching a barrage of acidic fireballs thrown by the diving demons. The impact cracked her shield, and she gasped, her grip on Logan’s waist tightening as her mana reserves spiked.

Are you alright? Logan called out, checking over his shoulder.

Just keep us flying, she shouted back, a wild, adrenaline fueled laugh escaping her lips. I have never felt magic move this fast before. It is incredible.

The core of the spatial rift was a swirling, jagged tear in the fabric of the sky, pulsating with a foul, dark purple energy that bled down into the city. Logan could see more hounds preparing to drop through the opening.

We need to destroy the focal points around the rim, Vivienne shouted, squinting through the thick smoke. See those three glowing violet crystals floating around the tear? Those are stabilizing the anchor.

Can your lightning crack them? Logan asked.

Not from this distance, she said, leaning closer to his ear to be heard over the roaring wind. I need to get closer, but the energy feedback will kill me if I touch it.

You won't touch it, Logan said, his voice completely steady. I will shield you.

He drove his heels into the wyvern's sides, and the beast let out a fierce hiss, tucking its wings and diving straight toward the center of the portal. The pressure was intense, the ambient dark magic scratching at Logan’s skin like invisible needles, but the dragon crest on his collarbone flared with a protective gold light that extended outward, wrapping both him and Vivienne in a warm, untouchable cocoon.

Now, Vivienne, Logan roared.

Vivienne unleashed three rapid, blinding bolts of pure white lightning. The spells streaked through the purple haze, hitting the floating violet crystals simultaneously. The crystals shattered into a million tiny fragments, and the spatial rift instantly began to collapse inward, the purple vortex groaning like a dying animal before snapping shut with a concussive shockwave that sent the remaining airborne demons dissolving into ash.

The sky cleared, the morning sun finally breaking through the heavy smoke to illuminate the ruined streets below.

We did it, Vivienne whispered, her head slumping against Logan's back as the sheer exhaustion of the spellcasting finally caught up to her. We actually did it.

Logan guided the wyvern down, the massive beast landing heavily on the blood stained cobblestones of the central plaza. The iron gray wings folded back against its body with a sharp metallic rustle. Logan slid down from the neck, turning to help Vivienne land safely on her feet. Her hands were still trembling, and he kept his arm around her waist to support her weight.

You were amazing up there, Logan said, looking down at her with a soft smile.

You weren't so bad yourself, dragon rider, she replied, her pale face flushing slightly as she looked up at him.

Their moment of triumph was cut short by the sudden, heavy thud of marching boots.

Logan instantly reached for his sword, but the plaza was already swarming with soldiers. Dozens of elite warriors dressed in the gold and midnight blue armor of the King's Personal Guard poured from the side avenues, their long spears pointed directly at Logan and the wyvern. Behind them came a contingent of thirty high mages, their hands glowing with offensive white spells, ready to incinerate the beast at the first sign of aggression.

Stand down, Logan shouted, stepping in front of Vivienne. The rift is closed. The danger is over.

None of the guards lowered their weapons. The wyvern let out a low, rumbling growl, its golden eyes narrowing as it prepared to protect its master.

Stay calm, boy, a cold, smooth voice echoed from the rear of the crowd.

The soldiers parted, making way for a tall, middle aged man dressed in the lavish, dark purple robes of a high councilor. He carried a silver staff topped with a black gem, and his handsome face wore a chilling, confident smile.

Lord Malakor, Vivienne said, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper as she recognized the man from the archive documents.

Investigator Vivienne, Malakor said, bowing his head with mock politeness. I see you have been very busy helping this peasant disrupt the peace of the capital.

He just saved the city from your demons, Malakor, Logan spat, his hand gripping the hilt of his iron sword. We found your manifest in the archives. We know you are the one who opened that portal.

A manifest? Malakor laughed softly, his eyes glinting with a malicious amusement. I have no idea what you are talking about, boy. But I do know what my own eyes see. I see an unregistered mutant riding a forbidden beast of legend, using forbidden heresy to control a monster inside the king's walls.

The high mages stepped forward, their spells growing brighter. High Mage Eldon stood among them, his wrinkled face twisted in a triumphant grin.

Logan, low ranking apprentice of the vanguard, Malakor announced, his voice carrying across the entire plaza so every surviving citizen could hear. By the authority vested in me by the high council, I am placing you under arrest for high treason, practicing forbidden magical heresy, and conspiring to destroy the capital.

You are the traitor, Vivienne shouted, trying to step forward, but two elite guards instantly brought their spears down, blocking her path.

Do not move, Investigator, Malakor warned, his eyes narrowing. Anyone who defends this monster will be executed on the spot as an accomplice. Take his weapon. If the beast moves, kill the boy first.

Logan looked at the circle of spears, the glowing hands of the mages, and the cold, smiling face of the man who had orchestrated the entire slaughter. The dragon blood inside him boiled, demanding he fight, but he knew one wrong move would mean Vivienne's death. He slowly took his hand off his sword, his eyes locked onto Malakor with a silent, lethal promise.