Half-Heart: Prologue

Only five individuals in the entire kingdom of Soven knew about the birth of the dragon that was going to change the world.

Three of them were stood atop a cliff overlooking the Bluespell Forest. The fourth was undoubtedly still pacing the floors of his study, muttering to some unseen presence, and the fifth was supposedly heading in the direction of the three soldiers poised for the attack above the trees.

Sabre's claws raked at the rocky ground beneath them impatiently. The vermilion-scaled dragon looked on either side of him at his comrades, who looked just as agitated and restless as he was.

The moon beamed serene silver light on the three dragons as they awaited their cue to attack. The conifer forest below them shrieked, chirped and hooted with the sounds of the night. It was peaceful, as the Bluespell Forest always was; its inhabitants were clearly unaware of the chaos that was surely about to follow.

Sabre's spiked tail lashed up and down as he sighed, his anticipation growing. His stomach rumbled beneath the golden scales on his belly; he had not eaten for a good twelve hours. Their Lord Taranis was very fond of keeping him busy on the warfront these days. He'd spent most of the day travelling from one garrison to the next, carrying out inspections and making sure all of the soldiers were trained to the right standards. It was bothersome work, but the Flame-Wielder's need to eat had been buried underneath his obligations help ensure their victory against the humans. Sabre was not about to watch any of his comrades fall to a bunch of traitorous little mammals waving bits of metal in the air. Then again, he thought with amusement, what were a few of those rats compared to an entire army of dragons?

Sabre's tongue slid out and slithered across his lips. He itched for the day he got to burn another one of their camps down.

He considered jumping down into the woods to snatch up an owl or badger for a small snack while he waited, but he couldn't risk leaving his position. That old Hatchery worker from the nearby village could show up at any moment. Lord Taranis was counting on him and his troops to bring back the hatchling he'd be carrying safely and securely.

All they knew about it was that it was a newborn dragon with an unusual eye colour, and that Lord Taranis would have their heads if they failed to bring it to him. Sabre didn't want to discover just how far Myrn's Governor would spiral down into his madness if they did; this mysterious newborn seemed vastly important to him.

The three dragons had sat in silence for too long. The bulky blue one on Sabre's right opened his jaws and yawned. Sabre shot him a sideways scowl. "Roth, stay focused," he said sharply.

Roth rubbed his eye with a paw and growled to himself. "C'mon, Sabre. We've been here half the night. When is this guy supposed to show up?"

"It won't be long." Sabre stood up tall and alert, his brown eyes latched onto the endless sky. "Just keep your eyes on the horizon."

The stars glittered and glimmered like millions of tiny white diamonds on a black canvass. Sabre couldn't help but wonder whether they'd agree to what they were about to do.

"I can't believe we're doing this," the younger dragon to Sabre's left muttered, his amethyst-coloured eyes scowling at the ground. "The war is reaching its peak, and what does Taranis send us to do? Abduct a hatchling from a village halfway across the province."

"Lord Taranis, Jovan," Sabre corrected firmly. "Remember your place."

"All I'm saying is that I think Lord Taranis has got ... problems," Jovan went on, scratching at the scales on his neck anxiously. "Think about it. What 'normal' dragon hides away in his study all day talking to himself? What sensible Governor sends three of his best soldiers out to kidnap children while our armies need us more than ever?"

Sabre chose not to answer, still staring out into the blackness. What Jovan said was very true; this was undoubtedly the strangest mission he'd ever been sent on in all the years he'd spent in the army.

"I hope that our spies in the village were right about this," Roth growled. He flexed his wings restlessly, the gills on his neck flaring as he snorted. "If we've sat here like three great gargoyles for half the night for no reason, I'm going to--"

"Wait," Sabre suddenly whispered, his body tensing. He stood up and gestured out towards the distant tree lines. A dark shape was flapping its way towards them, teetering this way and that as a gust of wind swept across the valley.

Jovan squinted out into the blackness. "Is that him?"

"Only one way to find out," said Sabre.

He watched the shape approach for a moment, its features slowly refining as it got closer. It was indeed a dragon, and it was holding something close to its chest.

Sabre grinned and flexed his wings. This night was about to get interesting after all.

"Go," he said to his comrades.

"About time." Roth cracked his neck with a smirk and took off towards the trees, with Jovan following close behind.

Gusts of wind and flurries of leaves billowed into Sabre's face as his two companions beat their wings to get themselves airborne. They flew over the fir trees towards their target, Roth banking off to the right and Jovan twisting to the left. The moonlight shone along their features and illuminated their scales - Jovan's golden-yellow and Roth's sky-blue. Sabre watched their every move, waiting for his own cue to strike.

Their target abruptly stopped in midair, looking frantically at the two dragons speeding towards him. After a moment of panic he bolted downwards, dropping like a stone towards the trees.

But young, lithe Jovan was just too quick for him. He dove underneath the tumbling dragon and took the full brunt of his weight. They spiralled out of control, both dragons beating their wings frantically to try and keep themselves airborne. From Sabre's position, the struggling dragons looked like a pair of angry bats fighting over some fruit.

Sabre gritted his teeth and turned his attention to Roth, who was hovering nearby. The captive was wriggling and thrashing in Jovan's grasp, desperately trying to break free. They were getting far too close to the tree tops for Sabre's liking; a crash landing would surely prove fatal to the hatchling.

But Sabre had brought Roth for a reason; that dragon knew what he was doing. He hovered for another moment before sweeping into a dive towards the flailing pair. His forelegs reached out, pulled something out of the dragon's grasp and veered off to the side with it, floating gently on the winds.

Now it was Sabre's turn. The fire dragon launched himself off the cliff and barrelled towards the fight. He could hear the screams and pleas of their target as Jovan attempted to gently pull him towards the ground. The Storm-Wielder noticed his Commander approaching at full speed and quickly rolled out of his way. Sabre careened into the side of the dragon, tree branches snapping and nocturnal creatures shrieking and fleeing as the two beasts tore through the canopy and smashed into the forest floor.

Roth and Jovan followed to find Sabre fighting to subdue the dragon, one foreleg wrapped around his neck and the other holding his snout shut. He bucked and squirmed to try and escape.

"Hold this," Roth said to Jovan, dumping a bundle of blankets into his arm and rushing in to help.

Roth retrieved a thick roll of rope from a leather satchel attached to his side. He tossed it to Sabre, who proceeded to wrap it around the dragon's snout. He yanked it tightly, the dragon hissing and thrashing his head as the rope cut into his scales. After what seemed like an eternity, he gave up, collapsing onto his belly with a sad moan.

Sabre was sitting on top of him by this point. His breath escaped him in great pants as he climbed off the dragon's back. Roth immediately moved into hold the dragon down while Jovan sat on his haunches off to the side, gazing endearingly down at the bundle he held by his chest.

Now that the dragon was still, Sabre could finally get a better look at him. He was a water dragon, just like Roth was. His seaweed-green scales were streaked with blood from his new wounds, the gills on his neck quivering as he fought to catch his breath. A pair of deep blue horns protruded from the top of his head, both of which had been seized by Roth.

"Right," Sabre began, pacing around the dragon as he glowered up at him. "Now that you've finished overreacting, I say we move on with some more important matters, hm?"

The dragon growled deeply, his throat rumbling.

"Lord Taranis, Governor of Myrn and honored member of Queen Kaira's council, has sent us here," Sabre went on, his voice oozing a pompous senses of importance. "I am one of Myrn's army's commanders, and these are two of my most trusted soldiers. We were given direct orders from Lord Taranis to secure the hatchling that you were reported to be carrying, and deliver it into his care."

"We'll be taking this child off your hands now," he said, pointing to the bundle in Jovan's arms. "Unless you want to spend a few decades of your life in Myrn Citadel's dungeons, you will not resist nor argue."

The dragon's eyes were growing wider with every word Sabre spoke. He attempted to shake off the binds around his mouth, but Roth held his head still. He grunted urgently, looking at the bundle, then at Jovan and then back to Sabre.

"Oh, no need to introduce yourself, water dragon," Sabre said with a nasty smirk down at the binds. "We know exactly who you are, Noah, fifty-six year old hatchery worker from an unnamed settlement along the eastern shores of Lake Freyla. Oh yes, we've had a team of professional spies stationed in your village for weeks."

Noah's blue eyes narrowed with anger, then rose with shock, then glared back down again. Sabre wished he could hear the jumble of confused and furious thoughts that must have been arrowing through his mind.

Sabre flicked his tail. "I understand that you wish to protect your child--"

Noah suddenly let out a muffled scream, bucking so violently that Roth was almost thrown off. He shook his head vigorously, his eyes, now wide and pleading never leaving Sabre's.

Something was ... strange. Sabre couldn't place a paw on it, but something about this dragon intrigued him. He couldn't help but wonder why his eyes continuously darted over to the bundle filled with what could only be sheer terror. What could possibly be so frightening about a sleeping baby dragon no larger than a cat?

He wanted to find out more. He stared down at Noah for a moment before nodding his head at Roth. "Unbind him."

"Commander--?"

"I said unbind him."

Roth shrugged, but did as he was told. He held the Noah's head still with one paw and carefully unwrapped the binds with the other.

"Are you going to be a good boy if we do this?" Sabre asked.

Noah simply glared at him as Roth slid the rope off his snout. He snapped his mouth open, readjusted his jaw with a crack and rested his head back on the ground. Clearly he'd learned that fighting back against trained soldiers was a foolish thing to do; it hadn't earned him any favours so far.

Sabre was perfectly content with this. "That's better. Now you can tell me where exactly you were planning to go with that hatchling." He paced back and forth in front of him, raising his wings high. "Surely a father wouldn't take off across the province with his newborn son for no good reason?"

"He isn't my son," Noah growled quietly, glancing over at the bundle with disgust as though it contained a swarm of cockroaches. "And if your 'professional' spies were as competent as you say they are, you would know that."

An awkward silence landed upon the clearing. Sabre noticed with a bolt of irritation that Roth was trying not to laugh.

"Don't change the subject," he snapped, but then grinned. "If anything, that just makes you guilty of kidnapping an infant. You'd have done yourself a favour by withholding that information. Now," he added, watching with satisfaction as Noah screwed his eyes closed with regret, "I would like to know why, indeed, you thought it was a good idea to abduct a baby dragon, literally just born, out of the hatchery where it is your job to care for it? Do the parents know? How will they feel? Devastated, no doubt, that some random hatchery worker thought that he'd do a better job caring for their child than they would."

The green dragon shook his head, frowning down at the ground with an anguished look. "I had no intention of caring for it."

Sabre could see the willpower slowly beginning to die in Noah's eyes; the moment a captive lost all hope and figured that they may as well just confess everything since they weren't going to get out of their situation anyway. He'd seen it so many times, yet it always gave him the same thrill. He practically had Noah pinned under his mercy, and he wasn't about to let go.

Sabre watched Noah's despair with silent contentment, slowly sweeping his tail from side to side as the water dragon huffed out a sigh. "I was ... I was going to kill it."

A very tense silence fell over the four dragons. Jovan gulped as he looked back down at the sleeping child in his arms.

Not even Sabre had expected that. He stole a glance at the bundled up hatchling with a newfound interest.

Whatever surprise he felt, he did not let it show on the surface. "Well now," he said loudly, his tail sweeping across the ground, "this changes a few things, doesn't it? Firstly, may I just say that by disclosing that little secret, you have earned yourself a good few years in prison, my friend. Secondly..." He lowered his head so that he was eye to eye with Noah. The water dragon glared straight back, his eyes bursting with anger. "What gives you the right to sentence a hatchling to death just minutes after being born? Who do you think you are, wretch?"

"His eyes," Noah said, his voice barely a whisper. Sabre could see even from where he was standing the shudders starting to ripple up Noah's scales. Roth seemed to notice it too, and blinked down at his captive curiously. "I've heard stories - stories from Soven's ancient past, when a dragon with eyes just like his started the war to end all wars. Soven was nearly destroyed. The power he had, the things that he could do just - just-"

"I'm not here for a history lesson," said Sabre, nibbling at one of his claws. He was starting to think he might have let him continue if he didn't have an audience though; suddenly Lord Taranis and his conversations with nobody were more intriguing to him than ever.

"Who's to say that this dragon won't grow up to do the same thing?" Noah choked out, clawing at the ground with increasing panic. Roth grunted and tightened his grip around his horns. "I won't, won't, won't be responsible for that! Please, please let me finish what I started. Let me kill him and then I'll come quietly, I promise. I'll accept whatever punishment awaits me for my crimes."

Sabre spluttered with laughter, snorting out a burst of orange flame. "Are you serious?"

"I am." Noah's wide eyes met his, and Sabre saw that they were wet with tears. He bit back his growing unease and glared sternly back with a flippant flick of his tail. "I'm deadly serious. I don't even care what you're going to do to me after this, but that hatchling has to die."

"Oh, I see," Sabre said, throwing up his wings with incredulation. "Well then, we'll just have to call quits on this mission. You hear that, boys?" He spun around had caught both Jovan and Roth's eye, grinning impishly. "Looks like we're losing our jobs, our dignity and quite possibly our lives because this one seaweed-brain wants to kill the dragon that we came for in the first place! Let's pack up and hope we can fit in one last round of drinks before we die."

Roth scowled at him, his top lip quivering. Jovan looked unsure of whether he should laugh or not.

Noah was quiet for a long moment, staring blankly down at the ground. He then rose his head and looked Sabre straight in the eye. "If that's how it is, then I have no other choice. Sorry for this."

Before they'd even had time to process what he said, Noah threw back his head violently. He head-butted Roth squarely in the forehead. The blue dragon swayed, his eyes unfocused, and toppled to the ground.

Noah was on his feet immediately. He made a dash towards Jovan, who snapped open his wings and catapulted upwards into the air, narrowly avoiding Noah's fangs as he reared up to bite his tail.

Sabre roared and barrelled towards the crazed Water-Wielder. They collided with the force of an avalanche, the two beasts grappling and clawing viciously at one another.

Noah's fangs clamped around Sabre's foreleg, but the Commander swung him around and slammed him into the trunk of a tree. Birds scattered from their nests, shrieking in indignation and terror. Noah gasped in pain and slid down to the ground as Sabre towered over him, glaring scornfully down at his opponent.

"Please..." Noah's legs shuddered underneath him as they tried to get him back on his feet. "You don't know what you're doing..."

Sabre's eyes narrowed into amber slits as he snarled, wisps of smoke wafting out of his nostrils.

"IT'S GOING TO KILL--"

Black claws lashed out at lightning speed and Noah's throat exploded with blood as Sabre tore it open with a single swipe. The water dragon gurgled and gasped, opening his mouth to scream, but only dark blood gushed out.

A ramming head butt to Noah's chest sent him crashing to the ground, his body convulsing and twitching as its life bled out of it.

Sabre tossed back his head triumphantly, his curved horns splattered with Noah's blood. He strolled to his companions with a cheerful wave of his tail. Roth was sitting up with a groan, holding a paw up to his bruised forehead.

"That's a job well done, boys," he grinned at them.

Roth just grunted and didn't look up. Jovan had resettled himself on the ground and looked as though he might be sick.

"A long and tedious one, but a good one nonetheless. Expect a round from me when we get back to Myrn."

"Thanks...?" Jovan's brow creased into a frown. He glanced across at Noah's still, bleeding body and winced.

"Thank the stars that's over," Roth muttered, lowering his paw and blinking. "If you're buying, Sabre, I'll have that mug of mead I've been gasping for all night."

"You can have as many as you like, my friend," said Sabre, padding over to him and offering him a paw. "Come on, up you get."

Jovan was gazing down at the hatchling in his arms with a gentle smile. "He slept through the whole thing," he said endearingly.

"How adorable." Sabre hauled Roth to his feet and strode over to them. "Let's have a look at this kid, then. See what all the fuss is about."

All three dragons peered into the bundle of blankets where a tiny head peeked out. He had dark blue scales, like the deepest depths of the ocean, and webbed paws tucked up against his murky green chest. His eyes were peacefully closed as his little body twitched in his silent slumber.

Sabre ran his gaze over the baby dragon's gills and fins on the sides of his face. "He's a Water-Wielder?" He scoffed, shaking his head. "Really? This thing is going to grow up to be all big and bad and scary? What's he going to do, throw fish at us?"

"I'm right here," Roth snarled from behind him.

"Oh, I don't mean you," said Sabre, turning and giving his comrade a grin. "You're competent. You can fight. You're the only water dragon I've met who can do anything besides catch fish and swim in circles all day."

Roth angrily began muttering under his breath, but Sabre ignored him. He paused for a moment, surveying the sleeping hatchling. "I want to see those eyes that everyone's making a fuss about. Wake him up."

"I can't do that," said Jovan, looking genuinely concerned. "I don't want to make him cry-"

The baby dragon suddenly stirred in Jovan's grasp, his mouth opening into a squeaky yawn. A tiny paw reached up to rub his eye, and for the briefest of moments, they both opened.

All three dragons saw all they needed to see.

They were not eyes, but pearls of obsidian. No whites, no pupils; just pools of purest, blackest darkness.

Something about them made Sabre's scales tingle. They were so unnaturally eerie; almost hypnotising to look at. But they were all wrong on every level. Eyes this colour were not natural.

"That's him all right," Sabre said, turning away before Roth and Jovan spotted his unease. "Let's get him back to Myrn."

A rush of wind from above startled them, and they looked skyward to see two dragons descending through the tangled hole they'd made in the canopy.

The older one, with copper scales, laughed as he dropped down. "It isn't hard to keep up with you, Sabre. Take down the whole forest while you're at it, why don't you."

But the other, a thin young adult with grey scales, looked grave. "Aeron's battalion lost eleven soldiers a few hours ago."

Silence dropped upon the group of dragons like a stone from the sky.

"They what?!" Sabre seethed.

"Their camp was ambushed. The humans were upon them in a flash, and three of them were dead before they realised they were there." He pawed at the ground tentatively. "More and more of them are training to be Dragonslayers than we thought. They're deadly, Sabre. We need to up our game before they catch another camp off guard as well."

"By the moon," Roth murmured, looking dumbstruck. "Eleven dragons! Dead! Just what in the world is going on?"

"We'll head there as soon as we get this little one back to Myrn," said Sabre, inclining his head at the hatchling. "I expect there's a lot of mess to clean up."

"And a lot of humans to find and kill," Roth growled, clawing at the dirt.

"Go to the camp and tell Aeron that we will be there shortly after sunrise," said Sabre.

"Yes sir." Both dragons bowed their heads respectfully before taking off into the violet sky.

This was just getting worse and worse. Sabre couldn't help but wonder if things had been different if Lord Taranis hadn't assigned them this mission. All three of them had been scheduled to be at Aeron's camp that night. Would just three extra bodies have been enough to prevent so many deaths?

"This is why we shouldn't have been here," muttered Jovan, almost mirroring Sabre's thoughts.

"I know, but there's not a lot we can do," said Sabre, stretching out his wings. "Let's just hurry so we can get there and help out. Aeron will need all the help he can get."

"Blasted humans," Roth snarled, taking a swipe at a tree in anger. His claws left four deep scratches across the bark. "I'll spill their guts one by one."

"You can sate some of your bloodlust later, friend," said Sabre. "For one night, though, I've had enough. Let's go home."

Snapping his wings open, Sabre shot into the sky with Roth and Jovan both following close behind. The cool, autumn wind howled around his ears as his mind raced with questions.

How on earth did Lord Taranis know where that dragon was going to be born?

And indeed, how did he know that he was even going to be born at all?

Why did he need him so badly?

Sabre wanted to know just who the Governor talked to behind the closed doors of his study.

The dawn was breaking to the east ahead of them, dazzling the land with its golden glow. The Maior Mountains on the horizon pierced the light like dark, jagged teeth. The people of Soven were rising for another day, as indifferent as ever to the events that had just transpired.

The stars were disappearing under the blanket of sunlight, yet never quite gone.

And watching as the one creature they feared vanished into the dawn.