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  Personal Note

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  “Just keep swimming.” – Dory

  Contents

  Saved by a Dragon

  Extras

  Uoria Mates I

  Uoria Mates II Preview

  Exclusive Prequel for You

  Saved by a Dragon

  Prologue

  Many Centuries Ago...

  The world around me seemed like it had erupted in flames and smoke. Everywhere I looked was fire. Destruction. Death. The world was littered with bodies that had been ravaged. Torn open. Split apart.

  The War of the Three Stones had been raging for what seemed like forever – but in reality, had been just over a year. But the war, being waged between three of the major Clans – Fire, Ice, and Sand – had ravaged our world of Chondelai.

  And for what?

  There had been very little gain for any of the Clans. Nobody had gained or lost territories. Nobody had pushed any of the Clans’ major houses into exile – or wiped them all out.

  We'd been fighting, killing, and dying for over a year with no real gain.

  I stood upon the ramparts of the castle, looking out at the land below. What had once been lush, green, beautiful land, was now scorched, and dying. Everything below seemed like it was on fire and through the smoke, I watched as the winged shapes of my brothers swooped and dove, cleaning up the last of the stragglers – the air around me vibrating with the deafening roar of dragons, and the pained screaming of men –bringing this skirmish to an end.

  It had been a small force from the Sand Clan who'd tried to storm the castle. They were simply testing our defenses, seeing if this war of attrition had weakened us enough to justify sending a bigger force.

  It was a tactic we'd all used. And to that point, all our defenses remained stout. Sooner or later though, one of the Clans was going to have to break if this damn war was ever going to end.

  “Jyta, what are you doing up here? It's not safe.”

  I turned and looked into the face of my best friend, Klont. He was a good man. A good soldier. I valued him above all others.

  “Relax, brother,” I said. “The men are cleaning up the last of the Sands. I'm as safe here as I am anywhere.”

  I turned and looked back out at the world below. I was the King of the Fire Clan and Commander of the Golden Legion – my clan's fiercest warriors. Klont was my second in command. My right hand. There was nobody in our entire army I would have rather gone to war with.

  “A scout just returned,” he said. “The Sands are bringing in reinforcements. They'll be here any minute.”

  I nodded and sighed. Clearly, we weren't done fighting for the day. “Gather the men,” I said. “Have them ready.”

  “Right away.”

  I watched Klont turn and walk away to round up the men. I turned and looked at the carnage on the field before me. Our once beautiful world, torn asunder by greed and unchecked ambition; I felt nothing but revulsion and disgust. Chondelai had been a beautiful place once. A paradise.

  But we'd gone and destroyed the whole thing. Even when this war ended, I had no idea how long it would take the scars from our fighting to heal. Or if they ever would. More than that though, I had to wonder what kind of world Chondelai would be once the war was over. That, I supposed, depended upon who won.

  I sensed the beast before I saw it. Looking up, I saw the massive dragon descending from the thick columns of smoke before me. The beast was right on top of me and getting lower. I was just about to shift into my own dragon form, ready to fight, when I noticed that the Sand dragon was alone.

  If this was all the Sands had in the way of reinforcements, they were in a world of trouble.

  I was curious. Curious as to why one of the Sands would choose to show up – alone. I held myself back from shifting, trying to quench the fire and lust for battle that burned through my veins.

  The dragon descended, lowering itself onto the ramparts of the castle, and shifted into his human form. We stood about ten feet apart from one another, staring at each other in silence for several long moments.

  “I'm not sure whether it's the height of bravery or the depth of foolishness for you to come here alone,” I said.

  “I am Uldor,” he said. “Commander of the Scorpion Brigade and I do not come to fight. I come to have a conversation with you, your Majesty, nothing more.”

  Uldor was tall, a head taller than me, and had long dark hair. With his broad shoulders, powerful arms and a thick, wide chest, he radiated power and strength. I wondered how I would fare against him in hand to hand combat. Wondered if I even stood a chance against him in our dragon forms.

  Klont and half a dozen other warriors arrived on the ramparts, still armored, carrying spears and swords. I held my hand up to stop them from advancing.

  “Lower your weapons,” I said.

  My men did as they were told, but Klont stepped up beside me, sheathing his sword. He gave me a look that told me he wanted to say something, but he wisely held his tongue.

  “What is it you want, Commander?” I asked. “Why do you come to my castle alone? Especially after your raiding party killed two of my men. Your raiders were wiped out, by the way.”

  He sighed and looked to the ground, shaking his head. “They were instructed to relay my message,” he said. “I had heard they did not do that and acted on their own – which is why I am here of my own accord.”

  “You Sands have killed a lot of our brothers and sisters,” Klont hissed. “Give me one reason why we should not strike you down where you stand.”

  Uldor looked up and I saw the flash of anger and defiance in his eyes. “We've killed no less than you of the Fire Clan have,” he said. “War is a terrible, terrible thing that costs many lives. Far too many of them. But let us not compound that tragedy or dishonor our dead with hypocrisy.”

  Klont looked to me but fell silent. I looked at the man before me, my curiosity only growing stronger. It was quite a risk for an enemy to show up uninvited – and alone. The fact that he was one of the Sand's key commanders only compounded that risk. It made me wonder what was his real agenda.

  “Speak,” I said. “What is it you want?”

  “I am taking the risk I am because some things are more important than our living or dying,” he said.

  I smirked. “I can't think of anything more important to me than living, Uldor,” I said.

  He eyed me carefully, his expression inscrutable. Unreadable. I found myself intensely curious about what the man was thinking.

  “Is your life more important than the lives of all of the dragonborn living in Chondelai?”

  I cocked my hea
d and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “King Wotul,” he said. “He's gone mad. He's going to break our world if he is not stopped.”

  I cocked my head and stared at the man, not sure what he was going on about. Wotul had been the one who'd started the war and had taken to killing the other dragonborn with such zeal. I knew his greed and lust for power were insatiable – but breaking the world?

  “I don't even know what that means, Uldor,” I admitted.

  The man looked at me with an urgency that bordered on madness himself. His entire body was tense – though not like he was about to strike. His madness was born of fear. But what could he possibly fear so badly?

  “The Shongtal,” Uldor said, his voice low, intense. “He's speaking of releasing the Shongtal to aid him in his fight.”

  I felt a knot form in my stomach and constrict painfully as he spoke. I looked to Klont who stared back at me with wide eyes, reflecting the fear I was sure were in my own.

  “A – are you certain of this?” I asked.

  Uldor nodded and then looked away, hesitant to speak for a moment. But then I saw his jaw tighten and his hands clench into fists at his sides.

  “I know this because I accompanied my King to a meeting with Wotul,” he said. “An alliance was discussed for the purposes of defeating you.”

  I chuckled and shook my head, though Klont tensed up beside me and placed his hand on the palm of his sword. I clapped him on the shoulder giving him a look of fierce pride.

  “I shall take that as a badge of honor, Commander,” I said. “That the Ice and Sand Clans would need to marshal their forces together to defeat us. I think that speaks very well of my army – and its commanders.”

  Klont gave me a grim smile, but I could see him puff up just a bit. It was indeed a mark of honor that we had stood against the attacks of our enemies and had repelled them all. That they would need to combine their forces to defeat us spoke very well of my soldiers.

  But I had to let that moment of pride pass by quickly. There were more important – and more disastrous – questions to be answered yet.

  “What of the Shongtal?” I asked. “How do they factor into this?”

  “Wotul believes that he can harness their powers,” he said. “He believes that he can control them, bend them to his will. That he can augment his army with them.”

  “That's madness,” I said. “Lunacy.”

  “It's an act of desperation, my lord,” Uldor said. “Wotul knows he cannot win this war on his own.”

  “A war of his creation,” I seethed.

  Uldor nodded. “Be that as it may, if he does what he believes he can do, it will be the ruin of us all.”

  “Madness,” I said again. “Nobody controls the Shongtal. Nobody. It's why we sealed them away in the first place, so long ago.”

  Uldor nodded. “My King agrees with you, my lord,” he said. “It's why he is asking for your help. Wotul must be stopped before he can destroy Chondelai. Time is short and we must get to the Ice Castle before he can complete the ritual.”

  I turned and looked at Klont – who looked every bit as suspicious as I felt. My guards stepped forward, tense and alert, keeping their eye on the man as Klont and I stepped away to speak.

  “You realize this very well could be a trap,” Klont said. “He already said he was colluding with Wotul. This rush to get you onto a battlefield of their choosing? It stinks to me.”

  I nodded. “The thought had crossed my mind, yes,” I said. “There are many questions yet unanswered.”

  “You can't seriously be considering this?”

  I sighed. “If I do not, and Wotul truly is going to release the Shongtal, we're all going to be dead anyway and Chondelai will be destroyed. You know this as well as I do.”

  “My lord –”

  I shook my head. “We cannot sit by and do nothing, Klont,” I said. “Not if the fate of Chondelai truly is at stake. I am going to lead the army. You are to stay here with a detachment. In case this goes – wrong – you are to assume the throne, Klont.”

  He gripped my arm and looked at me earnestly. “No, my lord,” he said. “You are the rightful King of the Fire Clan. Our people need you. If this is to be done, it will be my honor to lead the army.”

  I gave him a small smile. “It is my duty to our people to ensure that the Shongtal are never released upon this world. My duty,” I said. “And you are the best man I've ever known. I know that with you in charge, the Fire Clan will continue to live on and flourish.”

  “Jyta, no,” he said. “You can't –”

  I gripped his forearm and gave him a smile. “I can. I have decided,” he said. “Protect our people. That is your duty. And if I fail to return, sit the throne and lead us back to glory.”

  He looked stricken as I stepped away and turned to Uldor. I looked around at the land one more time, reinforcing my decision. The world was on fire, but if the Shongtal were released, it would be so much worse. Klont had been but a child the last time they walked free, so he didn't remember who – and what – they were. Didn't remember how purely evil they were – and couldn't quite understand that, that kind of evil must never be allowed to be free.

  I was young, but I was there. I remembered. And I vowed, on that day, that if I had to give my life to ensure it, the Shongtal would never see the light of day again.

  ~ooo000ooo~

  I swooped in low, opening my jaws, and delivered a massive fireball straight to the gates of the Ice Castle. The wood and steel, weakened by the barrage of our combined forces – Fire and Sand – shattered. The gates exploded, sending shrapnel into the sky.

  The way was open.

  For having had such a depleted army, the Ice Clan had put up a fierce resistance. But they were overwhelmed by the combined strength we threw at them. With battles between dragonborn still raging in the sky, I landed before the ruined gate – half a dozen of my warriors behind me. Uldor and his small contingent landed twenty yards away and we all shifted back into our human forms.

  Our supply dragons, backs loaded with massive packs, landed on the field of ice, allowing my men and I to armor ourselves and claim our weapons. We could not go into the depths of the castle in our dragon forms – we had to go in our human skins.

  Armored and ready, our supply dragons lifted off and flew away to their place of cover to wait for us to need them again.

  “Are you ready?” Uldor called out to me.

  I nodded grimly. “Let us be done with this.”

  Uldor and I led our men into the castle, all Clan loyalties temporarily set aside. If we were successful in defeating Wotul and keeping the Shongtal sealed within their prison, there was going to be much work to do to rebuild Chondelai.

  I had spoken with the King of the Sands and he had assured me that once this was over and Wotul was deposed, we would work hard to restore Chondelai to its former splendor. That we would end the war and find a way back to the peace and harmony that had ruled our world for millennia. Then find a way to deal with the greed and unchecked aggression of those like Wotul.

  But first, we needed to end the threat to our world. Decisively. For, if we failed in that endeavor, everything else was moot.

  Perhaps it was a sign of just how depleted Wotul's forces were that we encountered very little resistance as we strode through the castle. In fact, we hadn't seen a single soldier after we'd set foot within the stone and ice walls.

  Tapestries depicting great victories and scenes of battles hung upon the walls. I had never been inside the Ice Castle and found it to be quite a beautiful place. The ice blocks within the walls glowed with an inner light that shone blue. It was elegant without being overdone.

  The Ice Castle emitted a soothing quality, its vibration within the air one of tranquility – which was so at odds with the reason we were there. The Fire Clan was known for its hot temper and intense passions. The Ice Clan was supposedly the Clan of intellect and reason, the Clan who were more deliberate and
thoughtful.

  Waging a destructive war for personal gain seemed so out of character for the King Wotul I'd known long ago. I had to wonder what it was that had driven him to the precipice we found ourselves standing upon. What had changed within him?

  At the end of a long corridor stood four armed and armored soldiers. Seeing us coming, the drew their swords and walked toward us. The soldiers who'd accompanied Uldor and I rushed past, the metallic sound of them drawing their own blades echoing in the empty corridor.

  As the battle was engaged in front of us, I sensed the movement behind. Moving in unison, Uldor and I spun around, drawing our blades in one smooth motion. Four of Wotul's soldiers moved in, blades at the ready. Uldor and I separated, to give ourselves space to move as well as to split up the soldiers. Two followed him and two followed me.

  I could see that they were young. Probably not very well trained yet. But I could see that maniacal zeal in their eyes that said they would lay down their life for their king in a heartbeat – which was about as much time as they had left in our world.

  As the two soldiers rushed at me, I pointed at the torch on the wall and then at the soldier rushing at me, his sword raised high over his head. A fireball erupted from the torch, catching the soldier square in the chest, igniting him instantly. His sword fell to the stone floor with a clatter as the flames consumed his body, his agonized screams echoing up and down the corridor.

  The second soldier, with an angry scream, brought his sword down in a murderous arc. I got my own blade up at the very last instant, barely avoiding having my skull split open, steel meeting steel with a high-pitched ring. The soldier foolishly tried to press his advantage, tried to drive the edge of his blade into my face – and left himself completely vulnerable to attack.

  My breathing was labored and I gritted my teeth – the young dragonborn was strong – as I tried to fend off his attack. Using my free hand, I grabbed the long, curved dagger that hung at my belt and drove it upward, the point of my blade slicing through his armor like it was nothing. The young man's eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open – the strength in his sword arm vanishing instantly.