A Tale of Two Tarkirs, Ch. 1

It was, Javed decided, one thing to brave the Arashin wastes.  It was another to to do so in broad daylight, in full armor, on patrol.  Sigh.  He reinforced his determination again.  It would do no good to whine or complain.  In fact, feeling sorry for oneself was a good way to get killed.  Not by a commanding officer, who knew exactly how much marching through the desert sucked.  Not by their scalelord, who had better things to do than manage individual morale.  No, the danger was all around them.  The wastes themselves.

The desert could kill a strong man in hours.  In order to survive, you needed to be mentally strong.  Never let down your guard, never slack on discipline.  The desert had no mercy.  Yet the Dromoka clan knew how to endure.

One of the ways was to carry plenty of supplies, Javed thought as he made his way to the supply wagon.  “Water!” he called out, firm but calm.  Just enough to attract the attention of the quartermaster, but not enough to seem brash.

The driver shook his head.  “We need to make five more miles before we stop to rest.  You'll just need to wait.  Or ask someone to share,” he smirked.

Javed narrowed his eyes in irritation, turning away.  “Yeah right,” he muttered.  He wasn't deathly thirsty, but he wanted to keep away from the edge if at all possible.  Apparently the quartermaster's idea of where the edge lay was different from his.

“Javed!” he heard a voice call.  He turned to see one of his fellow soldiers, a young woman named Ester, making her way to his side.  They had been in the same training class, and were both now experiencing, or rather, enduring, their first patrol.  They hadn't been sent to the borderlands, so there was little chance of seeing action out here.  Which was fine with Javed.  He was just getting used to the strenuous pace.  He didn't need a battle to break out on top of that.

“Ester!” he smiled as they fell into step together.  She reached into her side bag, and pulled out her water skin.

“I still have some water left, here have a drink,” she held it out to him.

Javed shook his head.  “No, I couldn't.  I can make it.”

Ester insisted.  “It's not like we're gonna have to wait that long to get restocked.  Plus, you're way bigger than me.  You need more water anyway.”

Javed felt terribly guilty, but didn't want to deny Ester's kindness.  In the desert, working together was the only way to survive long.  Pride had to fall out of the picture.  He bowed his head in gratitude, and accepted the proffered drink.  He brought the spout to his lips, then hesitated.  It was natural instinct to drink your fill.  But natural instinct would work against you out here.

He mindfully wet his lips first.  Then he took the slightest sip to acclimate his dry mouth.  Then a little more, and then a little more.  A mouthful at a time, with a break between them.  It was important to maintain this discipline.  Ester watched him out of the corner of her eye.  If he lost himself, she would stop him.

When he felt the slightest bit more hydrated, he forced himself to stop.  He knew what it was like to drink too much water, as strange as that sounded.  The only way to deal with constant lack, was to condition yourself to live with less.  Any indulgence would derail that conditioning, and destroy the discipline that was essential to survival.

Ester took the water skin back with a smile, and drifted off a few steps.  Now that their conversation was finished, they each desired to focus on the march.  Javed let his mind wander.  That had been kind of Ester.  She was a loyal comrade, and a true servant of the clan.  She was easy to get along with.  All of these were the standards that he valued as well.  If it were up to him, he might even ask her to go for a walk with him, after they got back to the aerie.

But it wasn't up to him.  The scalelords, and often Dragonlord Dromoka herself, decided who among them would be allowed to enter into relationships of that nature.  Service to the clan was a large determining factor, though not the only one.  You had to be healthy and have a reputation for loyalty.  And then the scalelords would take into account some compatibility, enough to ensure a satisfactory relationship.  But since the children born to these couples were taken to other aeries to be raised, thereby distributing the family of the clan amongst the whole, there was no need for a long term relationship.

Javed surely knew of some couples who stayed together, but the norm was for couples to pair up as necessary and mate.  Then the father would move on, his role finished, while the mother carried the child to term while serving the clan in non-combat roles.  During this time, the clan rallied around to support the expectant mother, as the role of mother was highly praised in Dromokan society.  Once the child was born, he or she was taken to another aerie to be raised there.

All of this helped ensure the unity of the clan, while avoiding the formation of selfish bonds based on blood line.  Family meant the aerie where you lived, and the scalelord whom you served.  Anything else was unbecoming of a member of the Dromoka clan.

As Javed pondered these things, he heard a familiar cry ring through the air.  He turned quickly to witness the imminent arrival of their scalelord, the dragon Katar.  The main formation, with Katar's mobile aerie, was far distant, yet the dragon made up the distance with ease as she cut through the air.  An air of expectancy fell over their patrol, and Javed allowed himself to admire the power and majesty of their scalelord.

The approaching dragon barked out commands in the guttural draconic.  Thanks to the close proximity in which the humans, ainok, and aven lived with their dragon overseers, Javed was able to understand most of what was said.  A pack of Kolaghan raiders had managed to sneak into Dromoka territory, and were waiting in ambush over the next dune.  Katar flew over the patrol, watching as the leaders relayed that information into orders.  

The patrol marshaled into formation.  The primary weapon of the scaleguard, and especially against the Kolaghan and their horses, were long spears.  The scaleguard could protect themselves from arrows and other projectiles with their shields.  But the best protection against a crazed berserker charging headlong at you was a sharp pointy stick.

Thus forewarned, and prepared, they waited for the enemy to approach.  Now that the element of surprise had been spoiled, the Kolaghan could either retreat, or attack anyway.  Javed knew which option he thought was more likely.  The Kolaghan could have been a bogeyman created by elders to frighten the young into obedience.  They seemed to be antithetical to everything the Dromoka stood for.

Yet Javed knew they existed, for he had heard the tales firsthand from Foremost who had faced them in combat.  Stories of cannibalism.  Stories of killing their own.  Stories of drinking blood.  Stories of killing children and the infirm and old, and everyone who had the misfortune to lie in their destructive path.  As far as anyone had been able to ascertain, the Kolaghan did all they did, just for the hell of it.  They didn't build, they didn't rule.  They destroyed, and then moved on.  Almost like a force of nature.  

Yet this was a force of nature that you could fight, and every scaleguard worth their salt stood ready to beat back the ravening hordes from their homes.  And in doing so, you could be promoted to Foremost, the elite of Dromoka's human servants.  Though individual glory was not as important as serving the clan.

Javed found himself a few rows back from the edge of their formation.  He could see Ester to his left, also not on the front lines, and felt relieved.  Not that he doubted her combat abilities.  Every scaleguard needed to be able to fight, or at least die, for the clan.  But wrapped up in that was a solicitousness for their comrades.

Those warriors on the outside of the formation linked their shields and held their spears outward, in a complete circle.  This prevented the Kolaghan from flanking them with their superior mobility.  Those not on the edge held their shields upward, to protect both themselves and those close to them from arrows.  They added their spears to the defense, creating a resilient break point to resist any charge.  They blocked off a space in the middle of the circle to allow for the supply cart and any wounded.  For they knew that there would be wounded.  They could only hope that would be all.

These tactics had been honed over a millennia of combat.  The Dromoka knew how to defend, especially against their hated enemies, the Kolaghan.  No mercy could be expected, so they just had to become stronger.  And of course, they had their dragon circling overhead, to provide support.  Javed smirked.  He almost felt sorry for the bastards.  Almost.

Now he could hear it, the war cries and screams of the approaching raiders.  They knew that their ambush had been foiled, and now they were going to try the overwhelming frontal assault.  Despite the Dromokan defenses, that fearsome charge was often effective.  This first strike would go the furthest in determining the victor of this battle.  The Kolaghan could throw a mean first punch.  The Dromoka had to be able to take it.

Of course, with Katar in the mix, she would probably strafe the Kolaghan charge before it could even get to them, weakening their strength.  In battles between clans, your best bet was a dragon.  They were so far above the normal combatants, that having one on your side often trumped all other concerns.  That didn't mean you could slack off, so Javed kept his mind focused, vowing to give everything he had, to the last drop of blood if necessary.  

Then the Kolaghan breached the hill.  Javed felt a chill go through him.  This was real.  He could see their bloodstained faces, their black horses.  He could see their mad expressions, and the cruel joy that seized them.  Now that they saw their prey, the Kolaghan redoubled their frenzy, if that were possible.  They urged their mounts down the hill, only gaining speed.  Such misuse would destroy a horse over the long haul, but this was about a quick strike, and maybe one of two more, if needed, to clean up the scraps.  

Javed felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins.  His grip grew shaky, til he had to take a breath to calm himself down.  No need to worry, no need to wonder.  There was no tomorrow, there was no yesterday.  There was only now.  This moment.  Focus, breathe.  Don't think.  Watch them come.  Ease your grip.  When the time is right, then clench and thrust.  He heard others in the formation shouting last minute directives and encouragement.

Then something streaked across the sky, and BOOM!  Something crashed into Katar and sent her hurtling through the air.  A deafening screech made the hair on Javed's body stand up.  Lightning crackled through the air as he beheld a Kolaghan Dragon, or warkite, in all its fearsome glory.

A dismayed cry went up from the formation.  Javed whipped his head back to the charging Kolaghan skirmishers, who were roaring with blood lust at their dragon's arrival, then back to the hovering Kolaghan, who had turned its head to regard them for a moment.  Then it screamed, charging up its deadly lightning breath.

This was not good.  Javed's patrol had had a tenuous advantage before, but now things looked decidedly grim.  He couldn't tell where their scalelord had gone.  And without a dragon of their own, they were caught between a rock and a hard place!

“Roaarr!!!”  Javed felt his heart lift at the familiar sound.  A blast of purifying light caused the warkite to cut off its attack and dodge.  It turned back to see Katar making a line towards it.  As Katar charged, she let loose with her breath of light, hoping to destroy her foe, but if not, at least to cover her advance.  The warkite, however, moved impossibly fast, even compared to their scalelord.  It was able to dodge the attacks easily, then close to range.

Now it was the warkite's turn to attack.  Its preliminary strike had been a lightning assisted battering ram, that had transferred most of the force into Katar, leaving it relatively unharmed.  But a mere look showed that there was no way the slender dragon could compete in physical strength with Katar's bulky and muscled build.  So it drew close, but just out of reach, where it could leverage its superior mobility to avoid Katar's attacks, yet lash at her with its own lightning breath.  Each strike caused Katar to pause, but she doggedly kept up the chase.

Javed snapped out of his reverie.  He had been transfixed at the dragon battle in the sky.  He hadn't seen anything like it before.  But he knew the raiders' charge must be close.  He looked, and sure enough they were almost upon them.  For an instant he wanted to scream, to run away.  Instead he took a calming breath, and shouted, “Eyes forward!”  His comrades noticed their peril, and joined the refrain.  There was nothing they could do for their scalelord if they got swept away here.  The concern they felt for their dragon was channeled into their focus, and as one, they let out a rallying cry.

It was met from the Kolaghan with a cry of their own, and then the two sides crashed.  Just as the first waves came into reach, Javed and his fellow scaleguard clenched their grip on their spears, waited one beat, and then thrust with all their might.  The impact was tremendous.  Spears shattered up and down the line.  Horses pushed themselves onto the spears until the points came out the other side.  The force would have easily knocked the scaleguards at the front off their feet, if they weren't braced by their comrades behind them.  As it was, the circle bent and shifted, but held.

Seeing as the initial charge hadn't worked, those Kolaghan who came after were forced to turn their charge and begin circling the formation.  They tried to bat down the spear tips with their swords so that they could ride in and trample, but the rows of spears shored up any weak spots.  A few of the Kolaghan tried to shoot arrows into the formation, but the scaleguards' interlocked shields formed an impenetrable wall.

Now that the greatest danger had subsided, though by no means passed, a few of those scaleguards on the inner most of the formation drew their bows and fired back.  The few Kolaghan archers fired direct line shot into the formation, which were easily blocked.  The Dromoka archers, on the other hand, had to arch their shots to avoid their comrades.  Even with their aim obscured, they were able to thin out the Kolaghan ranks a bit.  However, some intrepid bowman set their sights higher.

Above them, the battle between dragons had continued.  Each lightning blast sapped more strength from Katar.  She replied with her own blasts, but the surprise attack from the warkite had left her behind for most of the fight.  The archers noticed, and began firing at the warkite, seeking to aid their dragon.  The warkite regarded the volley, and easily dodged.  But the archers didn't give up.  They kept firing, forcing the warkite to divert its attention.  

Katar used this time to make up the distance and advance to close range.  Just as the warkite was preparing to turn its deadly lightning upon the archers, Katar crashed into it bodily.  Though it was nowhere as fast as the warkite's own charge, it had almost as much effect.  The Kolaghan dragon lost quite a bit of altitude, almost brushing its wing tips against the desert sand.  However, it regained its equilibrium just as Katar charged down on top of it. The warkite just manged to dodge the blow, which would have flattened it, but Katar followed up with a nasty bite.

Utilizing the distraction, the Kolaghan warriors had left off their fruitless circling, and had gathered halfway up the hill for another attempt at an alpha strike.  The warkite noticed this, and let off a point blank lightning blast at Katar which bought it enough time to escape.  It flew to the head of its forces, and as it turned, they all charged.  This was different from the first charge.  This was what was meant by the Kolaghan charge.  The warkite breathed its lightning breath over its own troops, and they welcomed it!  Some of the Kolaghan had metal rods sticking up at their backs which channeled the lightning into their own charge.

Javed kept his focus, but a voice in the back of his head told him he was witnessing his own demise.  He made peace with that thought, and pushed it aside.  He didn't know if there was anything that could withstand such a charge as this.  Even the very earth seemed as if it would rend.

Then Katar flew over them, towards the foe.  “Yes!” Javed cried out.  His spirits were lifted, though things still were grim.  Katar would protect them.  If she could just keep that dragon off of them, then they might be able to deal with that horde.

However, Katar had something else in mind.  As she charged the Kolaghan forces, she unleashed her scorching breath upon the riders, instantly incinerating many, and blasting many more to the ground, leaving them to die from agonizing burns.  The charge was decimated, and there did not remain enough riders to pose a threat to the scaleguard formation.  However, this left Katar open.

In that split second of diverted attention, the warkite attacked.  It didn't give an ounce of consideration to its followers, but instinctively pressed its momentary advantage.  Gripping Katar with its claws, it unleashed a full force point blank lightning blast into her face.  Katar convulsed and went limp, falling out of the warkite's grasp and crashing to the sand.

“NO!” Javed screamed.  The formation loosened and then broke.  The scaleguards charged to their scalelord's aid.  The war kite took to the air and loosed a lightning blast upon them.  “Aaagghh!” Javed screamed as searing electricity flowed through his body.  He dropped his spear and fell to his knees.

He looked around and saw his fellow scaleguards in varying states.  Some lay on the ground, not moving.  Others were staggering around, dazed.  And still others were already regrouping.  Ester rushed up to him.  “Javed, you're still alive!  Come on!”  She dragged him bodily to his feet, and gripped him with her free hand until his feet were steady enough to stand.  

She still held her spear, although her shield was missing.  His shield was still gripped tightly in his hand, the aftershocks of electricity causing his grip to clench, knuckle white, on the handle.  His spear had fallen, and though he took a groggy glance around, he could not imagine finding it in this chaos.  Time for plan B, he thought, as he pulled out his scimitar.

Ester pointed at some soldiers that were struggling to rebuild some type of order, and they began making their way towards them.  However, the remnants of the Kolaghan band were hellbent on destruction, especially now that the Dromoka's secure formation had been broken.  The scaleguards that Ester and Javed had been approaching were cut down without ceremony.  Then the riders continued towards them.

Ester bent her knees, holding her spear at an angle.  Without the benefit of her comrades to brace her, she needed to wait until the last possible moment, and then brace her spear against the ground.  Javed stood nearby, feeling impotent with rage and stricken with grief.  Why?  Why did this have to happen?  He wished he could charge his opponents like a dragon, and tear them from their saddles, and send them fleeing before his wrath.  But he could not do those things, so he seethed and waited, resolving to protect Ester's flank.

The riders were almost upon them.  Ester set her spear into the ground and braced for impact.  At that moment, the warkite appeared.  It had been chasing and harrying the remnants of their patrol, and now it was here for them.  Javed yelled, raising his shield and running to put it between Ester and the blast.  It was too far, and everything seemed to be moving too slowly for him to ever get there in time.

He didn't.  The blast cut through them like a knife.  Even the Kolaghan riders were caught in the blast, crashing to the ground in their charge.  Javed's shield protected him from the brunt of the blast, though he was still thrown to the ground, throbbing with pain.  However, Ester was unshielded from the blast.

Though he couldn't see her face, he could hear her scream.  She flopped to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.  Javed struggled to his feet, staggering to her side.  He could still see electricity arcing through her metal armor, so he removed her breastplate.  Then he checked her breathing and heart beat.  She wasn't breathing, and though her pulse was still there, it was irregular.

“Ih-kohm-neh,” he cursed.  He tried to breath air into her lungs, but nothing happened, and he felt foolish.  If only there were a sun mage around!  Javed pulled at his hair in stress.  Ester was going to die right in front of him!  His only consolation was that they all were probably going to die, with that dragon still around.

“Please!  Please...” he cried to no one, anyone.  Gradually he noticed a light shining above Ester's chest.  It coalesced and grew in intensity.  “Sun magic!” he gasped, though where it was coming from, he could not guess.  Suddenly Ester gasped, and her eyes flickered open for a moment, before she lay back, unconscious, on the sand.  Javed could barely believe his eyes.  She was breathing!  He checked her pulse, and it had stabilized as well.  

Javed felt weak.  In the midst of his powerlessness, something had aided him.  He whipped his head about, trying to sight the Kolaghan dragon that was still a threat.  He saw it, closer than he had thought.  It was engaged in battle with Katar.  Katar!  Such was to be expected of the enduring dragons of the Dromoka brood.  He grabbed Ester's spear, whispered a prayer that she would be watched over, and started making his way to the two battling dragons.

As Javed half walked, half crawled towards the battling behemoths, his mind was filled with thoughts.  Where were reinforcements?  He had no idea how long they had been fighting.  Maybe it hadn't been long enough for word to get back, or for others to arrive.  After all, no one had expected combat like this, inside the borders.

What was he going to do?  He had no idea.  As long as dragons had the power of flight, they had the advantage.  Javed knew that there were some among the humans in Dromoka's service who were specifically trained to combat dragons, but they were the most trusted of the Foremost.

In the end, did it matter?  If the Kolaghan dragon was left to attack, all of the scattered and wounded of his patrol stood no chance.  Even Katar was struggling.  If it were to help his brothers and sisters, and his scalelord, he would gladly sacrifice himself.  And right now that looked like the plan.

Gradually he noticed the wind picking up.  Sand started flying through the air.  A sandstorm?  But there had been no signs.  It quickly grew in intensity.  Javed shielded his eyes, and wrapped his scarf around his face, leaving the slightest space for him to see.  This speed and intensity, it seemed the work of a team of sand mages!  But there had been no sand mages assigned to his patrol, or nearby enough to have reached them.

Don't question it, he thought.  You've got bigger problems.  It was within the realm of possibility that this sand storm had spontaneously generated.  Not probable, but possible.  However, with visibility reduced, it meant that the Kolaghan warkite would have trouble flying away, or maneuvering.  He almost laughed at the idea that he didn't want this fearsome dragon to fly away.  But knowing that it wouldn't stop until they were all dead, grounding it gave them an advantage.

It also made it difficult for him to find them.  He tried to keep going on the line he had been on when the storm started, but the buffeting winds and approximately 5 feet of visibility made it impossible to know if he was still on the right track.  He hesitated to take his next step, and doubt began flooding his mind.

Then he felt something tugging him in one direction.  It was soft and light, almost enough to be missed in the raging storm.  Yet he could feel it.  He focused on it, trying to ignore everything else. The faint feeling drew him onwards, occasionally correcting him when he went off course.  His heart went out to the source of this guidance, and what he felt must also be the source of the storm, and the healing of his friend.

Eventually, he came to the place where the two dragons had been fighting.  The sudden sand storm had paused their combat.  He could barely hear them roaring and thrashing about trying to find each other.  Then it was if the sand let up slightly, just in the very vicinity, and he saw them.  Katar caught sight of her opponent, and charged.  With a mighty bite, she severed one of the warkite's wings from the bone.  The warkite screamed, and then let off a rage and pain filled blast.  After all the damage Katar had taken, she went down, and was slow to get up.  The Kolaghan let out a roar of triumph, and advanced on its prey.

“NOOOOO!” Javed cried, and the sands returned with renewed intensity.  Now he couldn't see at all.  He reached out to the source, whatever had been guiding him to this point.  “Please,” he whispered, “guide me.”  He felt the tugging again, and trusted in it.  He advanced confidently.  He began to feel a glow and energy flow into his body.  The weariness and fear from the battle was overlaid with strength, and vigor.  He felt stronger, better, than he ever had before.  He felt like a bow, stretched taut, ready to loose the fateful shot.

He still couldn't see, but when he felt, rather than heard, the command, NOW, he leapt!  Springing high, and arcing down towards his unseen target.  He put every ounce of his new found strength into the blow.  Once, for all time.  Whatever the outcome, he would not hold back.

He felt something as he struck, large flesh.  The spear went through with almost no resistance.  He heard a rage filled scream, tinged with agony and pain.  The spear was wrenched from his hands, and he fell to the ground.  As he struggled to get to his feet, the sandstorm cleared.  He looked up and saw the Kolaghan warkite, poised upon Katar, having been ready to deliver the final blow.  His spear had struck clean through its neck, pinning and killing it.  However, as he looked on in horror, he saw that the spear had continued down, into the chest of Katar!

Javed couldn't believe his eyes.  His heart constricted and he gasped for air.  Katar moaned and looked at Javed with pain and anger filled eyes.  She growled out one final draconic word, Why?  Then she slumped to the ground and Javed watched the life leave her body.

Javed sat there a moment.  His brain couldn't process what had just happened.  He had been trying to save his scalelord.  Yet he had killed her!  Various excuses and reasons flew through his mind, but he grasped at none of them.  A stream of gibberish whimpered from his lips.  Then he screamed to the sky.

The scream was loud and long, and when he finally ran out of breath to scream, he collapsed to the sand and knew nothing more.