The Dragon Mark

Lysbelle stood up in panic, her sharp eyes scanning the desert. With the sun high in the sky, she surveyed the vast sand, searching for any sign of her fears. The Oroxes were becoming increasingly restless. Almost threatening to start pulling the ship without orders. One of the convoy members appeared at the bow and cracked a whip, trying to calm the animals without success.

"Calm those beasts down!"

The order was directed at the prisoners, and it was a man Lysbelle didn’t know who responded.

"If the Oroxes are agitated, there’s a problem! We won’t be able to calm them like this!"

"I don’t care what you think; if those damned animals don’t calm down, you’ll be the one to pay the price!"

Azel tugged at a piece of Lysbelle’s clothing to get her attention.

"Wait a second, Azel," she said before glancing in his direction.

The boy was pointing at something far off in the desert. In the middle of the dunes, at the edge of her vision, a shadow was forming. She turned back to the convoy member still yelling at the slaves.

"We have to leave!" she shouted. "We’re in the path of a Swarm!"

An immense silence fell, and all the faces turned toward her. The man at the top of the convoy looked at her disdainfully.

"There’s no Swarm around here; we’re too close to the desert’s edge."

Around her, murmurs of agreement were heard, and she felt Azel’s hand tighten around hers. They didn’t have much time left before the Reapers sensed them. If they acted now, they might make it out, so she insisted.

"If you don’t believe me, at least make the effort to look far over there!"

With her uninjured arm, she pointed in the direction where she had spotted the shadow, and all eyes turned toward the horizon. A new murmur spread among the slaves, a growing murmur of fear. Yet, as if she'd encountered the most foolish member of the convoy, the man dismissed it outright.

"No, it's impossible that there's a Swarm. It must be a storm forming. We’ll take shelter when it gets here."

The man who had already clashed with him stood up and raised his voice.

"The girl is right, you idiot! It’s not a storm! It’s a Swarm! We need to leave now!"

Other prisoners began standing up one by one, each adding arguments that reinforced the urgency to act quickly.

"The Oroxes aren’t afraid of much, except a Reaper Swarm in the vast sand!"

"We’ve seen Swarms at the borders of the Exergue before! It’s rare, but it’s happened!"

Despite all these arguments, none were enough. Drunk with power and enraged at being contradicted, the man dismissed everything, cracking his whip at those brave enough to speak up. The situation almost turned tragic. Under the continued insistence of the prisoners, the guard decided to punish anyone who kept pestering him. At that very moment, the commotion caught the attention of other convoy members. Quickly, the small quarrel escalated. Some of the convoy members, scared by the revelation, started siding with the prisoners, while others mocked them.

Soon, Kraast and the man who had stopped him earlier arrived.

"What’s going on here?! What’s this chaos?! Shut up, you idiots, and someone come explain!"

Anger coursed through his entire body, making him even more terrifying than usual. The guard whom the prisoners had tried to warn stepped forward, casting a triumphant glance at his comrades.

"It's these idiot slaves, boss. One of them claimed a Swarm is heading our way just because the Oroxes are restless. Now they've all backed her up. I think they're trying to waste our time."

After the explanation, Kraast stepped closer to the edge, looking down at the prisoners. His gaze swept across the group before he glanced at the increasingly agitated desert bovines. Then, he addressed the slaves.

"Who started this nonsense?"

Lysbelle clenched her teeth before speaking up.

"Me. And you might want to take this ‘nonsense’ seriously if you don’t want to end up in pieces."

"The pest, of course," the giant grumbled. "Explain. You’ve got twenty seconds."

She wanted to shut him up with a sharp retort, but reason held her back. Instead, she pointed to the shadow in the distance, far off in the great sandsea, which had already doubled in size.

"It’s a Swarm, not a storm. You’d have to be blind to mix them up. The Oroxes only fear one thing in this desert, Reaper Swarms. If they’re panicking, we should be too. And if we don’t move now, it’ll be too late!"

Kraast followed her gaze and froze, his expression darkening. He turned to the guard who had spoken earlier. The man, confident he was right, didn't see the blow coming. The crack of bones echoed as he crumpled to the ground, clutching his ribs and screaming in pain. Kraast then turned to the other convoy guards.

"You idiots! If you see anything out of the ordinary, I told you to report it to me! Get moving! Load the slaves on board, they’ll be too slow."

With that, he disappeared from the front of the convoy, and the crew quickly sprang into action. Still in the sand, Lysbelle exhaled in relief, reassured Azel, and followed the movement of the prisoners as they were herded into their cage.

She hated this sandship. Slow and heavy, it was the complete opposite of the nimble Nomad Caravans. Sure, it could carry a lot, but the Caravans were small and light for a very obvious reason, a reason that, at this moment, was sorely lacking. The shadow had doubled in size again, showing no signs of stopping. Their speed, far from enough, wasn’t widening the gap, and the panic on board only grew. Each passing minute brought them one step closer to a certain death. Azel was in tears, and she wasn’t faring much better herself. Trapped in the massive cage, most of the other prisoners had already given up hope. The worst was that the iron bars would easily crumble under the Reapers' mandibles. Yet, aboard the double hulled vessel, their captors were struggling. Kraast was barking orders until he was hoarse and once he was done with his subordinates, he approached the slaves.

“I need two volunteers. If no one steps up, I’ll pick myself, and it won’t be pretty.”

At first, no one responded, too terrified of what might happen if they volunteered. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a man stood up, the same one who had backed up Lysbelle’s claim.

“Your stupidity has doomed us, but if there’s anything I can do to save my people, tell me what you need.”

Lysbelle's throat tightened, and she held Azel close, refusing to let him go. Seeing that only one man had risen, Kraast growled, scanning the group.

“I warned you.”

Another agonising moment passed before a sadistic smile spread across the giant's face.

“The pest! You’re the second volunteer. And if you pull anything, I’ll kill your brother.”

Lysbelle’s body went rigid as she slowly stood. Azel's desperate plea reached her ears as, with a smooth movement, she slipped out of his grasp. Her little brother cried out for her not to leave.

She nodded at the colossus demand without protest and turned to the small boy she had sworn to protect.

“Azel, do you remember what Mama said?” she whispered in his ear. “The Siraïl always keep their word. I will protect you, always.”

“Lys! Don’t leave me!”

Gently, she freed herself from the child’s grasp again. She gave a grateful look to Seylin, who held the boy back as he tried to run after her. With a heavy heart, she made her way toward the cage door. As she passed through the metal bars, her eyes blurred with tears at the sound of her little brother’s cries.

"Move it! Outside! We don’t have much time!"

One of the convoy guards hurried her along, threatening her with a blade as another one shut the cage behind her. Lysbelle wiped the tears forming in her eyes and pressed forward. Kraast and the other volunteer were already waiting a little farther ahead.

"There’s my favorite pest. Told you you’d end up feeding the Reapers," the giant mocked, almost proud of how the situation was unfolding.

Lysbelle didn’t bother replying, her eyes settling on the second person. The man was calm, his focused expression and graying hair suggesting he was around forty. Strong and upright, despite the fatigue and malnourishment. She guessed he’d held an important position in the second Caravan; perhaps even its leader. He was the first to speak while Kraast waited for Lysbelle to react.

"What do you need from us that your men can’t do?"

His words were spoken with the calm acceptance of someone resigned to their fate. Kraast let out a grunt and turned toward him.

"It’s simple. You’re going to be bait for the Reapers."

Lysbelle froze. She had already suspected as much when she left the cage, but hearing it from Kraast made the danger fully sink in. This was a one-way mission. But if she didn’t do it, her brother had no chance of survival as everyone else.

"I assume you have a more detailed plan? Just shouting won’t change the swarm’s course."

"Don’t worry," Kraast replied. "You only have one job, run as far as you can in the direction I give you. My crew and I will handle the part where you divert the insects."

He paused, as if assessing their resolve, before continuing in an even colder tone.

"Follow me. My second-in-command will give you more precise instructions."

Soon, the two unfortunate companions found themselves at the stern of the sand ship. From here, they had a clear view of the vast desert and the powerful Oroxes pulling the vessel with all their might. The convoy’s second-in-command had given each of them specific instructions and an artifact. A true relic of magical power, the blue sphere, about the size of a large fruit, had been charged with a massive amount of Îme. Now in their hands, it was like a beacon lit in the middle of a dark night to the Reapers. The next steps were the simplest and the last: run. Run fast and far, run enough to draw the Swarm away from the ship.

Worried, Lysbelle found the idea ridiculous. Even if their diversion worked, the insects would soon pick up the convoy’s trail again. The second-in-command had briefly reassured her. They had other countermeasures in place to address her concerns. Before she could ask what those were, Kraast had interrupted them, arguing they neither had the time nor the need to explain. After all, it was a part of the plan that wouldn’t concern them any longer.

Lysbelle’s dark eyes turned one last time to the cage where she spotted Azel. She forced a reassuring smile before turning away. The Swarm had already covered half the distance to the convoy, and its already massive form had grown even larger. From their position, they could just begin to hear the humming of thousands of wings beating in unison.

"Jump!" the giant commanded.

Lysbelle looked down. The sand slowly passed beneath her, the ship, dragged by the Oroxes, crossing the dunes one by one. The man next to her, the one who had volunteered, whose name she still didn’t know, obeyed without hesitation. He took a few steps back and leapt over the thick wooden railing, landing smoothly three meters below in the hot sand. Lysbelle glanced back at Kraast who was growing impatient. Fear gripped her, terrifying fear. Her arm, still broken, ached, a pain she had endured in silence. Yet, with a certain boldness and determination, she threatened the giant.

"I swear, if anything happens to Azel, I’ll find a way to come back and haunt you."

Without waiting for a response, she climbed onto the railing and let herself drop into the sand. As she stood up, she blew one of her long black strands of hair out of her face and watched the convoy moving away. Her heart tightened one last time, but her willpower overcame her fear and pain.

"Give me the second sphere and head in the opposite direction. We don’t both need to carry these things," came a voice that startled her. She turned to see the man, his dark skin and short hair, standing beside her.

"I appreciate the offer, but I don’t have a choice. If I go the other way, even if I catch up with the convoy, they won’t let me escape. And if it’s not me they punish, it’ll be my brother, and that’s not something I can risk."

The man nodded slowly.

"Then follow me, because I’m not about to let the last members of my Caravan die."