Beastborne: Voracious (Book 5) [Chapter 5]

Chapter 5

“Surely you jest, Hal,” Orrittam said, folding his tanned arms over a broad chest. He looked powerful and steadfast despite his human form. His golden eyes, however, were worried. Thoughtful.

“Look at him!” Naitese pointed an accusing finger. “He gains unprecedented power over us and then seeks to gain even more while calling it a ‘compromise’! Tell me you are not going to entertain this madness, Father.”

Hal tamped down his anger, which seemed harder than it had been not too long ago. It was more like an angry snake writhing in his grip, bringing its all to slip out of his grasp.

For now, he had a tight grip. But later? Who knew? I probably just need some more rest, he thought. Things had begun changing ever since he gained his Monster Core.

He hoped it was the Hollow essence festering within him like an abscessed tooth. Because the alternatives were all much, much worse.

“What else is there?” Hal asked. “Would you prefer to be slaves?”

A breeze filtered through the Manatree Glade, rustling ankle-length grass and ruffling the stream that drunkenly swerved through the glade up to the Manatree itself. The dragons—currently in human form—were silent.

“This is your doing,” Hal pointed out. Again. He felt like he was talking in circles. How many times did he need to explain it to them? “The System caught you. That’s the problem. It saw what you were doing, and tilted the odds against me. So when I won, the winnings were massive.”

“We have apologized,” Orrittam said.

“I am not asking for an apology, Orrittam,” Hal said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m trying to find a solution. Unless you want this arrangement to continue indefinitely. No? I thought not. You told me yourself, the System needs an equivalent deal in exchange. You’ve had all night and then some. Have you come up with anything new?”

Orrittam shook his head.

“Father!” Naitese barked. “This is blasphemy of the highest order! He cannot ask for this. It is forbidden!”

The Noble Gold placed his hand gently on his daughter’s pale shoulder. They both wore simple clothes, though they fit them like the royalty they were. A dragon always seemed to exude such a force of presence that would make any king or queen look a beggar by comparison. “All things change, daughter.”

Whether it had come from the Kindred of Dream, or his own subconscious, Hal didn’t know. What he did know is that there was one thing he could ask for that would not diminish the dragons, but would be an undeniable boon.

It was the only way he found that he could alter the Whitegold Oath without violating his morals or taking something unfairly from the pair of dragons.

Clearly, Naitese does not see it that way, Hal thought. He folded his arms behind his back, forcing himself to stand erect and meet their gaze. He would not back down from this.

“I will not be party to this,” Naitese said. She nearly stomped her foot in irritation, but merely shifted in place instead.

“He is a Beastborne,” Orrittam said. “He already has dragon magic.”

“That is not the same, and you know it!” Naitese tossed her sparkling hair over one shoulder and glared at Hal as if this whole thing was his fault. Telling her whose fault it truly was again would serve nothing. “A few measly spells are nothing compared to what he is asking for.”

“Would you prefer to stay shackled, as good-natured as he is, I do not think you would suffer such bindings.” Orrittam motioned with one arm. “This would offer us a way out. A way to repay a debt we owe. Would you wriggle out of it like some mortal you so despise?”

Naitese dropped her gaze to her bare feet and wriggled her toes in the grass. “No,” she muttered to the ground.

“Precisely. We are not diminished by this, but he grows. It is a fair trade, though I admit it is… unconventional.”

As far as the dragons were considered, ‘unconventional’ was an understatement. No dragon, not that they knew at least, had ever given up what he was asking for.

Dragonfire.

Not to anybody but another dragon, and even then, it was rare enough that nearly each time was well-documented. They had to give it willingly. Nobody could steal it nor coerce it out of them. They had to willingly surrender the ember of their Dragonfire to another.

Even though he technically ‘controlled’ them, they could not surrender their Dragonfire to him unless they wanted to.

Orrittam and Naitese, for all their arguments, had been remarkably tight-lipped about the truth of Dragonfire. The bits that Hal managed to piece together were akin to giving somebody a part of your soul.

Though even that was stretching things a bit.

“I will not do this if you are harmed by it,” Hal said again. He worked hard to arrive at a compromise that would benefit them all, or at least left the dragons unharmed.

He did not want them as slaves. They were free to do what they wished, where they wished. Hal would have preferred them as friends and allies, not slaves that had to do as he said.

Allies and friends of their own intent would fight harder for the safety of Brightsong and its people. Forcing people—even dragons—never had a decent outcome. Working retail had been full of lessons like that.

Lessons that, oddly enough, seemed to apply more to Aldim’s workings than anything back home. He could do nothing back on Earth, but here he could enact true change.

“We will have to teach him how to use it,” Naitese said sullenly.

“Yes, we will,” Orrittam agreed. His golden gaze never left Hal’s sapphire-blue fires. “It is only right.”

Hal shook his head. “That is not part of the Oath.” He had been surprised when he tried to addmore to the Oath besides the gift of Dragonfire that the System had rejected it on the basis that it was now imbalanced in his favor.

That spoke volumes about the potential of gaining Dragonfire. Hal, of course, said nothing. He valued Orrittam and, to a lesser extent, Naitese. But that did not mean he would willingly harm his position. Besides, it seemed they already understood the gravity of what he was asking more than the System did.

“It will need to be done regardless,” the Noble Gold said with a hearty sigh. “Young dragons can burn themselves out with Dragonfire. You would be the only known man to have access to the core of what it means to be a dragon. The chances for your demise—and by extension, your people’s—are astronomically high. You will accept our tutelage, or we will not give you our breath.”

With arms still folded behind his back, Hal nodded and struggled to keep his hands from shaking. The intensityof Orrittam’s words were almost a physical force. As if he were a dragon again.

Orrittam looked at his daughter.

She turned to Hal. “I will require recompense for my training. You will not bully me like you have my sire. I have no weakness for flighty creatures such as yourself. You and I will undertake a different Oath. You will do this before we offer up our breath.” As she spoke, Naitese lifted her head until her chin was aimed at the heavens.

Hal stifled a sigh of annoyance.

A dozen responses snapped into place and died on his tongue. None of them were kind. He would gain nothing by reminding her what happened the last time she pressed him. Likely, that was the exact reason she sought another Oath.

With Dragonfire, he would be even more of a threat to the pair. It would either make him an enemy of theirs—a potential rival, at the least—or an ally of unprecedented power.

He hoped for the latter, but he was far from sure that it would turn out that way. With the offer of training, that hope surged like a bright flame in his breast.

If they were willing to teach him how to use Dragonfire, then that bode well for their desire to stand by his side as friends and allies. There were countless advantages that Rinbast had over him, but this was one he would have over the Founder.

So long as they see me as a friend and not somebody seeking to unseat their power. It would be a precarious balance. I’ll have to make it clear that I care nothing for the dragons and instead want only to secure my own rule.

Hal shook his head and nearly laughed at his own thoughts. How long ago was it that I resisted the very idea of being a Founder? Caring for the lives and hopes of others? And now I act as if it were my right somehow. That I was always like this. How easily things change….

“You find this funny?” Naitese asked, silvery-blue eyes burning nearly to match Hal’s own. “I will have your answer. Now.”

“Easy, Daughter.”

Hal inclined his head. “I would gladly accept your tutelage, Naitese.” She smirked, but Hal continued before she could get a word in. “But I will not agree blindly to just any Oath. If you require recompense, I will provide it. But be aware, it will come with its own stipulations.”

Orrittam and Naitese exchanged a glance.

Slender and willowy, Naitese sauntered over to Hal. “First, I require a Lair of my own if I am to be your teacher, its territory to equal not less than a quarter of your own. Second, you will do as I say, when I say it. And thirdly, you will never use Dragonfire on another dragon.”

Naitese has offered you the Oath of the Dragon.

With an effort, Hal held his ground and remained unmoved. It was harder than it looked. Despite her human form, when she was riled up, Naitese exerted a pressure that was unlike any person. Some primal part of his brain recognized the apex predator that stood before him and panicked.

It took a surprising amount of willpower to remain impassive and steadfast in the face of such gibbering terror.

I’ve seen worse, he reminded himself.

Hal let one of his arms slip free from behind his back and held up one finger. “I will provide you a Lair, but it will be in the mountains and its authority will be subject to Brightsong’s.”

Hal put up another finger. “I will do as you ask, provided you are not endangering the lives of my friends or allies, and in exchange, you will do as I ask when you are in Brightsong proper.” A final finger raised. “I can’t be restricted against potential enemies. I will vow not to use Dragonfire on you or Orrittam—unless you use it on me or my allies first. But I will not hold the same for just any dragon. I cannot.”

Naitese turned back to her father, likely to complain that Hal was not taking her seriously. Whatever she was going to say, Hal never found out because Orrittam said, “He brings up good points, Daughter.”

Seeing that she was going to get no help from him, she turned back to Hal with a huff. “You will provide me a fitting Lair,” she said sharply. “One that I will inspect and agree to beforehand. The authority of my territory will be equal to Brightsong’s but neither will supersede the other.”

Hal took a moment to mull it over. “Agreed.”

“For the second point,” Naitese said. “I will not be put beneath you. I do cannot agree to being put under your leadership.”

Wouldn’t you already be considered subservient? Hal nearly voiced aloud. After all, I beat you. Twice.

“It would be hard to teach you, if you refuse to follow her instruction,” Orrittam pointed out.

“Very well,” Hal said. “How about this: I will follow your instruction as pertains to Dragonfire and its teachings so long as it does not harm friends, allies, or their homes. But onlyduring those times.”

Naitese frowned. She narrowed her eyes at him, mouthing the words under her breath slowly, as if searching for hidden traps.

It was clear to her that he was as likely to unduly subject himself to her will as she was to his. “That is… acceptable,” she said at last. Though it looked like she had spent the last year sucking on a lemon.

“Then we have a deal,” Hal said.

“Not quite.”

Hal waited, outwardly patient. Inside, he was seething. If he could have gotten rid of Naitese wholesale, he would have. She was nothing but argumentative and fractious. She would be a problem before long, but he could see no way to rid himself of her entirely without extracting the Whitegold Oath from her.

And to achieve thatOath, she demanded this Oath.

What a mess.

When it became abundantly clear that Hal was not going to ask what more Naitese required, she cleared her throat, drew herself up to her full height, enough to see eye-to-eye with Hal. “You… are free to use Dragonfire as you see fit on all save myself and my sire. There. Happy?”

“So long as you do not use it on me or my allies, yes,” Hal said.

Naitese pressed her lips into a thin, bloodless line. “I would not give you the honor.”

Hal frowned. “You used ice breath on me more than a dozen times.”

“That was not Dragonfire. Not true Dragonfire. That was… well, you will just have to learn in our training, won’t you?”

Something glinted in her eyes that made sweat pop out on Hal’s forehead. He extended his hand all the same as the revised Oath of the Dragon popped up before him.

Based on Naitese’s slightly unfocused gaze, she was seeing the same thing.

Oath of the Dragon

You have sworn that you will provide Naitese with a Lair that passes her inspection and whose authority is equal to Brightsong’s. You further agree to follow Naitese’s instructions during your Dragonfire training, and finally you vow not to use Dragonfire on her or Orrittam unless either use it on you or your allies.

Hal nodded. It was an… unconventional sort of Oath. It had no buffs that he could make out, but it was binding. And that, more than anything, was important.

A surge of strength flooded his body and wiped away his nerves. It took a moment for Hal to realize what was going on.

You gain 9,500 Oathforger Experience Points.

You gain 2 Honor.

Your Oathforger has reached Level 13.

Your Oathforger has reached Level 14.

You have 10 attribute points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, Spirit, and MP are fully restored.

With a mental swipe, Hal dismissed the prompts. He would allocate his Attributes once he was done here.

“Satisfied?” Hal asked once the flashing lights and golden stardust vanished from him. He had to admit, the shock on Naitese’s face was almost worth knowing she was going to be sticking around for a while.

Perhaps our relationship is salvageable. If not… well, I don’t have to like every ally I make. So long as our goals align, that’s enough for me.

“I doubt I ever will be completely satisfied in your company,” Naitese said, almost too quietly for Hal to pick up. “The Oath stands.”

“Then?”

Orrittam stepped up. “I formally accept the new bounds of the Whitegold Oath.”

Naitese looked to the side at her father. She inclined her head. “You have done as agreed. I accept the new conditions as well.”

Hal let the new Whitegold Oath wash over him and watched as it settled on the others as well. They wasted no time changing back into colossal dragons.

Orrittam and Naitese leaped up into the sky, growing exponentially in size as they did. The Noble Gold practically blotted out the sun at its zenith. What was left of the light was cut off by Naitese’s Tyrant White wings, glittering like fresh snow.

They roared and spewed streams of flame into the sky, then finally landed. The glade, which once seemed huge, now felt comically cramped.

For a moment Hal worried about the Manatree, but neither dragon came close to harming it. They seemed almost… reverent towards it.

That’s one thing we share.

Both dragons looked at Hal. Despite their size, their heads were less than a foot apart. Naitese, roughly half the size of Orrittam, opened her maw and gathered a glacial light while Orrittam summoned a miniature sun in his.

Hal started. It reminded him too much of the Drakst’s attack.

A mounting voice in his head screamed at him to flee. To run. To attack. Anything, so long as he was gone from this place.

He locked his legs, folded his arms behind his back, and forced all of his muscles to tense to prevent his instincts from taking over.

Their Dragonfire ripped through the space between like the sound of the universe tearing itself in half. Gold and White Dragonfire flashed over him. One second, the Dragonfire was in their mouths, the next he was being baptized in the heat of the sun and the icy cold of the darkest dead stars.

An avalanche of ice crashed into him. The molten heat of a star’s heart seared him to the bone. All that he was felt like it was being scoured and then seared away in turn.

Hal held on by a fingernail.

It was hard enough to think, let alone remember who he was and what he was doing. Shae’kathoth, the Manakeeper, the Shoggoth, Thirty-seven, every battle, every fight… was nothing compared to this.

He was not just fighting for his survival. He was fighting for his very soul. Bathed in Dragonfire, Hal was reduced to his most basic instincts. He fought, grasped, and battled against the liquid fire that threatened to reduce him to ash. He danced along the top of the mountain of ice that tried to crush and freeze him to nothing.

Time ceased to hold any meaning. How long had it been since it began? Days? Weeks? It felt like years, though he knew it had to be mere seconds.

Survival was all that mattered.

It was the onlything.

Orrittam looked down at the smoldering form before him. Oh dear, perhaps we were a touch rough.

Beside him, Naitese finally ceased her own surge of Dragonfire. The air still crackled with the freezing cold of her breath. He could sense her dissatisfaction.

He lives, then. Orrittam could imagine nothing else that would make Naitese growl like that. She had been holding on to the scant hope that Hal would not be able to withstand both of their Dragonfires at once.

In truth, Orrittam was not sure either. Hal was… different from the humans he had treated with before. He was not the strongest, nor the brightest, but he had something few creatures beyond dragons seemed to possess.

Valiance.

When faced with an impossible force, Hal somehow always managed to surmount it. In this, he was no different from a dragon. Though Orrittam had to admit, he had not been sure.

“You should have waited, Daughter,” Orrittam chided.

The Tyrant White tossed her head and blew a stream of super chilled air into the sky. Glittering diamond dust rained down. “I never agreed to that. He wanted Dragonfire. He got it. I do not see the problem. If he was too weak to survive, that would not be my concern.”

“You offend him at your own peril. He would prove a powerful ally, even a potential consort now that—”

The look that Naitese shot him stilled his tongue. Perhaps he had gone a touch too far. Well, she was not getting any younger. She could do much worse than a man who had transcended his limits and became something much closer to a dragon than a man.

Though he doubted that Naitese would see it that way.

Perhaps, in time, she could see the strength of his soul and not the form he took. After all, dragons could take human form. It did not make them any lesser for it.

Orrittam nudged the still-smoking form with his snout. I should have warned him about his clothes. I hope he is not cross with me.

Clad in only his skin, Hal breathed shallowly. Or was that the normal way humans breathed? Orrittam never could be sure.

The only thing that seemed to have survived the baptism of Dragonfire was his odd whip-like sword that Orrittam had helped to forge. Even still, it looked badly damaged.

It would be resistant to Orrittam’s breath since he helped forge it… but Naitese’s was another story. Perhaps he could fix it before Hal woke up. With a large claw the size of an excavator scoop, Orrittam carefully pulled [Fetter] away from Hal’s prone body.

“What are you doing with that?” Naitese asked. She regarded the blade with disdain. She had felt its bite enough to earn a healthy respect for it, even if she thought claws and teeth were superior.

She would learn.

Men made their own claws and teeth. She underestimated them at her peril.

“It is nearly broken,” Orrittam explained. “I would try to see it fixed.”

“What does it matter?” she said. “He has Dragonfire. Gods above, he has our Dragonfire.” Naitese took several moments to compose herself. “What does a tiny toothpick matter in the face of that?”

Orrittam chuckled. “You would be surprised, child. This one is resourceful. He does not rely solely on any one strength. I… confess, I find myself fascinated by what he will do with this… gift.”

“Something horrible, no doubt,” his daughter said. Despite her declaration of distaste, she crossed her forepaws and rested her head atop them. Her icy gaze rarely lingered from Hal’s unclothed form. “Where will you go, Father?”

“Go?”

“You are free now. I am no longer a threat. This little manling has seen to that. Once you teach him how to harness his Dragonfire, you are no longer beholden to this place.”

“What of you, Daughter?” Orrittam countered. He adopted a similar posture to her, though kept one eye on his daughter and another for any potential threats. “You state you wish to leave, to be free, but you bind yourself ever tighter to that one.

“You say one thing, then do another. I would almost think that you were unsure of your own heart, Daughter.” He chuckled and coughed a small fireball into the air. “Do not look at me so! You are free, no matter what you might think. And I am glad for our reunion.”

“You still have not answered me,” she said.

“I will stay,” Orrittam said. “My Lair is here, and I see no reason to move. These people… they are interesting. For the first time in quite a long while, I am keen on seeing how this story plays out. Will they win? Will they fall?” Orrittam shrugged massive, mountainous shoulders of gold. “And now, I have the opportunity to help them.”

“And will you?”

“Perhaps. It has been many centuries since I was last in the position to be an active participant in anybody’s story.” Orrittam tapped gently on [Fetter] using a pulse of mana to restore its durability. “You were not here when the Drakst attacked. It was… an unnatural abomination of the highest order.

“You think what Hal did was unnatural?” Orrittam asked, shaking his head. “That thing nearly killed me, and you as well. Hal stopped it. He saved me, Naitese. He saved us. Whether you believe or not, it happened. And while I still have my pride, I would see this man take up the mantle of Founder. I would see with my own two eyes just how far he can carry his dream.”

Naitese gave him a discerning look. She was, at the best of times, argumentative. Her defeat by Hal—twice now—had shaken her and made her uncertain.

That, in turn, made her irritable and illogical. She could see the same truths he did, even if she had less time to witness them. Some part of her wanted to stay, but Orrittam would not be surprised to see her flee the moment her Oath was fulfilled.

At least, he would have thought that once. That she had asked for a Lair of her own spoke of her intent.

How long had it been since any human had two dragon guardians watching over them? No, not guardians, Orrittam mentally corrected. Family.

That was what they were now. Sharing Dragonfire went beyond simply power. It was sharing memories, thoughts, feelings, a part of your very self. It was a deeply personal and private thing.

Whether the Shard ever believed it so, a bond had been forged between the three of them that would likely transcend death itself. He knew what that would mean for another dragon, their own kin. But what about a man?

Orrittam did not know, but he was keen to find out.