Chapter 54: Command Us As You See Fit
Jett halted at the capital’s threshold as the thunderous crack of splitting stone reverberated through the air; acrid smoke and gritty dust rasped in his throat, and his eyes widened at the catastrophe he’d vowed to prevent. A yawning crevice, wider than the palace plaza and so deep its bottom was lost to darkness, split the city in two, swallowing living beings by the thousands.
He was certain it had dragged what felt like most of Skia’s population down into the Dragon Catacombs. The fall alone would have killed many; whatever waited below promised worse. And someone he had hoped to avoid for a long while was responsible.
I knew the Harbinger would revel in chaos like this... but she’s really here.
He heard her airy giggle ripple through the capital as she swept past, sowing doubt in draconic hearts and bending them to her will. With her help the dragons’ scheme rolled on unchecked, humanity’s resistance barely a speed bump. That single gesture was her invitation to the dance between the Harbinger and the Warden.
Behind Jett and his maids a branch snapped in the distance, and an injured elder staggered into view—his once‑pristine robe hung in tatters, scorched crescent‑shaped holes marking where Crimson Storm had struck. He glanced over his shoulder and spotted an old man in tattered dragon robes limping toward them. Bruises and a smear of dried blood marred the elder’s face, his jaw hanging oddly askew, cracked scales tracing his cheek, and a faint reek of singed flesh clinging to him, yet his curled horns still gleamed with undimmed pride.
Is he one of the elder dragons whose muzzles I smashed against the capital’s barrier?
The old man closed the distance with measured steps until he stood within earshot, then dropped to his knees and bowed until his forehead touched the ground.
"Thank you for sparing the younger generation, Lord Warden," the dragon rasped. "Hatred and rage have clouded the eyes of both young and old, yet we elders can still recognize your benevolence."
Time to dust off my court manners, even in the middle of a disaster.