Chapter 4

Hammers slammed down on red hot steel, the hollow and agonised clanking of the metal reverberating through the air. From room to room and corner to corner of the steel mill, humans whose bones were showing under the skin were tirelessly pounding away at the metal, all under watchful reptilian eyes. Their gazes were wide yet unfocused, their skin wrinkled and shivering. Woe be to whoever refuses to obey the orders handed down from above. They were final in word, and in blood.

One poor soul struggled to keep up, and ended up straying out of said order’s path. And it did not go unnoticed. A dragon keeping watch over the workers stomped up to him with a growl in his voice.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I can’t do much more, mister dragon…”

The dragon, whose dark scales glistered in the light of a lantern hanging from the wall, raised his claw and brought the blunt side down on the hapless human being shivering before him. The man crumpled to the floor with a squeal, a splash of saliva flying out of his mouth and landing onto the metal he had been hammering away at for hours prior. The others watched on with dull faces.

Heaving with short whines, there was little time for him to catch his breath, for he was grabbed by the arm and dragged back to his feet, forced to stare straight at two rows of bared teeth.

“Lazy sack of filth, do you think I care? Who else is going to pick up your slack and fulfil your damned quota?”

“S-sir, please-”

“The Hallowed Country of Divinity itself has no need for weaklings like you. This cause is far greater than you, or any of your buddies working here, You ought to consider yourself lucky we’re letting you work at all, is that clear?”

“Yes sir…” the man muttered, hanging his head low.

The black dragon reared his head up. “And the rest of you, is that clear!”

“Yes sir.”

The room replied with zero energy. A tip of a talon was being held against their necks, and it was wise to not say anything. At the end of the day, they were lowly workers. Workers labouring away at the expense of their bodies, their families, and their own sanity, all for the sake of the Hallowed Army. Just like the men and women working the fields, and everyone else keeping the villages of the Solemn Valley running, they had nothing to say.

It had been two years since Justitian troops had been chased out of the valley. A storm of dragons had descended upon them in a merciless attack. Anyone unlucky enough to survive that initial onslaught was subject to horrors unimagined. Many of the dragons had dreamed of this they first re-emerged into the world. At least their suffering did not last more than a day. The residents of the valley weren’t so lucky. The dragons, who referred to themselves as the ‘Hallowed Army’, set up a new regime. One where belief in Draconism was the law, one where the cause was everyone’s grand purpose in life, far greater than any other ambition or dream they might have. And woe be upon anyone who does not fall in line.

This state, the ‘Hallowed State of Lokahn’, as the invading dragons named it, was only the size of this valley. The lone ways in and out were a dreadful range over the surrounding mountains, and a pass to the south. No armies that weren’t winged could get in, not when the incumbent force watched every route like hawks.

And so, even though Solemn Valley wasn’t far from the Citadel, the very capital of Lokahn and seat of Justitian power in the country, this state stood firm. And likewise, anyone who wished to flee would never make it. Either they’d die at the hands of frigid mountain winds, or die at the claws of a patrolling dragon, who had orders to kill anyone attempting to cross the border.

In the centre of the valley lay the town of Revalsburg. Some fifteen thousand people lived here. Once upon a time, when it still bore the name Cherryburg, it was a quaint little town. Simple, timber framed houses at the core, cheaper wood and stone work the further out one went, a small wall and shallow moat separating it from the plain it was seated upon. Alas, walls did little to an enemy that had the sky in the grip of their talons.

When the dragons laid their eyes upon it, the imperial garrison fleed. They were slaughtered, anyhow; the fields still bore scars of that clash two years onwards. Brown smears now decorated part of the outside wall, and if one paid attention, the screams of the damned still echoed in the fields when night fell. It was just the beginning of the Hallowed Army’s occupation: since then, the once beautiful town grew dustier and grayer. Once happy faces and bright clothing were replaced by thick robes and uniforms. The small churches to Justitia were either torn down or converted into Draconist temples, the fate of the priesthood there unknown, but easy to guess.

From the top of the former imperial garrison at the northern part of the city, Summer Keep as the locals called it, a grey dragoness watched over her handiwork. She was the founder and leader of the Hallowed Army, and it was under her command that this valley had fallen under their banner. That was two years ago now.

She wasn’t alone at the helm of the keep for long. Two white wings approached from behind, carrying a dragoness with fierce orange eyes. She landed next to the grey-scale, whose snout grew a devilish grin upon making eye contact.

“I take it that our little bear problem has been dealt with?”

“Indeed it has, Merahn,” the white dragoness said, looking out over the town under their large forms. “It is such a shame they are so rare here these days. Bears make for such a fantastic hunt.”

Merahn, the grey dragoness, tilted her head upwards. “All things must come to an end one day, Veraede. We’ve been dealing with the beasts ever since we’ve got here. And we aren’t the only ones in the valley, of course. Our human subjects should be glad that they can work on their fields in peace now.”

Veraede, the white dragoness, scoffed. “What a shame. If only they were willing to accept the gift for themselves. Then it wouldn’t be a problem.”

A suppressed chuckle rumbled through Merahn’s throat. “Oh, most definitely. But that is not the world we live in.”

“Yeah, unfortunately it isn't.” Veraede shook her large and pale head, growling as a cold breath escaped her throat. “You have no idea how much I have been longing to leave this cursed valley. We’re dragons. The children of Divinity itself! The world is waiting for us out there.”

Merahn shook her head. “Patience, Veraede, patience. The imperial scum have been keeping us pinned in here ever since we’ve taken it over. They know they cannot win on our turf. There will come a day where they cannot hold their own turf anymore, I promise you.”

“You’ve been promising this for years,” the white dragoness replied. Her voice was a deep growl, containing a bitterness that had been festering for a long time. Merahn fluttered her wings when her ears caught wind of it.

“Oh, I’m more than aware of it. But let me make one thing clear, if you will.”

The white dragoness raised her head. “Go on. I’m all ears.”

Merahn grinned. “Every day, the scales tip more and more in our favour. Have you ever taken a stroll through the fields? Tutored at the training grounds? Kept watch over the foundries?”

“I have not.”

“Hmph. Well, you ought to change that one of these days. It would work wonders for your lack of optimism.”

“Lack of optimism… pft. We are not meant to remain caged in one valley forever, I say. You are a dragon yourself, Merahn. You know this better than anyone, yet here you are.”

“Believe me,” Merahn said with a roll of her eyes, “I have not forgotten. Which is why I am telling you to do something besides going hunting. Preparations will have to be made before we can move out. We may be mighty, but they have the numbers.” Her teeth suddenly lay bare in a smile. ”For now, of course.”

Veraede let a hiss roll off her tongue. “Numbers mean nothing.”

“And the imperial scum will find out soon,” Merahn said. “Every day, our army grows larger, while theirs shrinks. Each day, we liberate Divinity’s people from the vile clutches of the imperials, and put them on the path of righteousness. The worthy accept the blessing of dragonhood every day, and our subjects work as hard as they possibly can, to assure a final victory for all that is good. And that is all while our enemies bicker among themselves, focused solely on the now, rather than the future. And that is why they will fall.”

“And what of them? They are growing, too.”

“The Homefront?”

“Who else?”

The grey dragoness shook her head. “They are fools led by a fool. We both know this. Everyone in this valley knows it. Either they know naturally, or we made them know.”

“They are still fighting and claiming this cause, you know.” Verahn scowled out over the town; a handful of smoky trails were pouring out of the chimneys, contributing to a greyed sky. “You say it’s darkest before dawn, yet look around you. Nothing but darkness and rain as far as the eye can see.”

Merahn tilted her head slightly backwards, bearing a dismissive look. “All winters give way to summers in the end, don’t they?”

“And all summers get cold eventually,” Verahn added.

“Indeed,” Merahn grunted back at her. “That golden fool, Lothar… he must be living on cloud nine right now. He fancies himself a king of his petty fiefdom. But he can’t hide forever. His followers won’t remain ignorant forever. He is driven by nothing but his own ego. All his fancy sermons, and prayers… all meaningless. He only wants to claim Reval’s crown for himself. It’s why he pretends to give a damn about that insipid weakling of a son. He is a disgrace to Divinity. Soon enough, even those most blinded by the gold will see the pyrite for themselves.”

“And then?”

“Then we will welcome them with an open heart… provided that they adjust to our way of life, of course.”

The two dragons went at it for a while longer. Their ambitions were large; nothing short of all of Lokahn under their banner would suffice: All for the sake of their beloved deity, Divinity, whose faith they had mandated for all under their rule. A faint scent of Jasmine-infused incense soon crept over the weary roofs of Revelsburg; it was prayer time.

“So much work remains to be done.”

“And you and I will be there for the harvest. Divinity itself spoke to me of the noble kingdom that was to be created one day, one only the purehearted could rule over. Soon, we will establish it. A new age is upon Lokahn… no, the world!”