The sky did not rain water that morning; it rained the ashes of destroyed men.
Logan stood in the center of the smoldering crater, his heart thumping like a war drum against his ribs. The two rogue mages lay flat on their backs a few yards away, blood leaking from their ears as they stared blankly at the gray clouds. The raw power of the Dragon God bloodline surged through Logan’s veins like liquid fire, hot and demanding. He looked down at his hands, watching the midnight black scales slowly sink back beneath his skin, leaving his knuckles raw and bleeding.
What did you do? a weak voice gasped from the smoke.
Logan spun around, his boots sinking into the hot ash. A third rogue mage was dragging himself out from behind a shattered boulder, his robes torn and his magical staff snapped in half. The man’s eyes were wide with a deep, paralyzing horror.
Stay down, Logan warned, his voice still carrying a strange, unnatural rumble that made the loose pebbles on the ground vibrate.
You are a monster, the mage whispered, his hands shaking as he tried to gather a faint spark of purple light in his palm. The ancient ones are dead. They are supposed to be dead.
They are not, Logan said.
He did not use a weapon. He did not need one. With a single step forward, the earth cracked beneath his heel. The residual elemental fury inside him answered his anger, sending a sharp wave of heat rolling across the dirt. The rogue mage did not even have time to scream before the sheer pressure of Logan’s presence forced him into unconsciousness, his head slumping against the stones.
Silence finally fell over the northern border, heavy and suffocating. Logan looked around at the absolute decimation of his unit. There was nothing left. The earth was scorched black, cratered as if a meteor had struck the trenches. He was the only apprentice left standing, an outcast who had just broken the laws of nature.
A sharp clinking sound broke the quietness of the graveyard.
Logan snapped his head toward the sound, his muscles tightening as the dragon blood inside him screamed to attack. A figure emerged from the thick white smoke, dressed in the silver and blue silk robes of the royal crown. It was a woman, her long dark hair pulled back, a silver crest gleaming on her shoulder.
Vivienne, the high investigator sent by the king, stopped at the edge of the crater. She looked at the shattered barriers, the unconscious mages, and then her sharp eyes locked onto Logan.
You are alive, Vivienne said, her voice remarkably calm despite the devastation around her.
I am, Logan said, taking a defensive step back. Are you here to finish me off?
Vivienne walked down into the crater, her boots crunching on the burnt debris. If I wanted you dead, apprentice, I would have brought the royal guard. What happened here? The capital felt a magical anomaly so massive it shook the scrying stones in the palace.
The enemy attacked us, Logan said, keeping his hands hidden behind his back. My squad was wiped out. I just defended myself.
With what? Vivienne asked, stopping just two feet away from him. She reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could pull away. She forced his hand into the light, staring at the faint, dark outlines where the scales had just retreated. This is not human magic, Logan. This is the old force. The Dragon God bloodline.
Logan yanked his hand back, his jaw tight. I do not know what you are talking about. I am just a low ranking apprentice. A meat shield.
Do not lie to me, Vivienne snapped, her eyes narrowing as she looked around the crater. Look at this place. Standard rogue magic does not c***k stone structures from three hundred yards away. A sound wave did this. Your roar did this. Do you have any idea what the high mages will do to you if they find you like this?
They will train me, Logan said, though his voice lacked conviction.
They will butcher you, Vivienne corrected him sharply. They will chain you to a table in the deepest dungeon of the capital and drain your blood to see how your organs work. The high mages do not tolerate wild power they cannot control. You are a threat to the crown, Logan.
Logan looked down at Vance’s lifeless body a few yards away, his chest tightening with a mix of grief and anger. I did not ask for this. It just happened when I was dying.
It does not matter what you asked for, Vivienne said, her tone softening slightly as she took in his blood-streaked face. The royal scouts are already on their way. They are less than ten minutes behind me. If they see these craters and the state of these mages, they will know a dragon shifter was here.
Then let them take me, Logan said, his anger flaring up. I have nothing left anyway. My whole squad is gone.
Is that what Vance would want? Vivienne asked, pointing toward the dead boy under the timber. Did he die just so you could throw your life away to the royal executioners?
Logan flinched, the words hitting him harder than any magical blast. How do you know his name?
I read the unit rosters before I rode out, Vivienne said, taking a deep breath. I know who you are, Logan. An outcast from the lower sectors. But right now, you need to listen to me if you want to keep breathing. We need to hide this.
How? Logan asked, looking at the massive destruction around them. You cannot hide a crater.
We change the narrative, Vivienne said quickly, her eyes scanning the area as she worked out a plan. We make it look like a rogue artifact exploded. Help me drag these mages together.
Why are you helping me? Logan asked, his suspicion growing. You work for the crown. Your job is to report monsters like me.
My job is to protect the kingdom, Vivienne said, grabbing the collar of an unconscious mage and dragging him toward the center of the blast radius. And right now, a live dragon shifter in the hands of the high mages would start a war before sundown. If the rival factions find out the ancient blood has awakened, the king’s enemies will move. Trust me, Logan, this is for everyone’s survival.
Logan hesitated for a second, then nodded. He walked over to the second mage, lifting him easily with his enhanced strength and placing him near the center.
Break their staves, Vivienne ordered, throwing her own small silver dagger into the dirt. Make it look like their own overcharged spell backfired and caused the explosion.
Logan snapped the wooden staves over his knee, throwing the pieces into the ashes. Vivienne quickly chanted a low spell under her breath, throwing a handful of blue powder into the air. The powder exploded into a shower of ordinary sparks, masking the unique, heavy scent of the dragon magic with the generic smell of burnt ozone.
Sit down and look miserable, Vivienne told him, wiping soot onto her own clean robes to look like she had arrived in a hurry.
Logan collapsed against the stone wall, his body suddenly feeling incredibly heavy as the adrenaline began to fade. The heat in his veins was cooling down, leaving a dull ache in his bones.
They are here, Vivienne whispered, looking up toward the ridge.
A dozen high mages in white robes descended from the hill, their hands glowing with defensive light as they took in the scene. A tall, elderly man with a long gray beard stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over the ruins.
Investigator Vivienne, the old mage said, his voice dripping with authority. What is the meaning of this? The scrying stones indicated a tier-five magical anomaly.
It was an unstable rogue weapon, High Mage Eldon, Vivienne lied smoothly, stepping between the mages and Logan. The rogue faction attempted to use an ancient, overcharged artifact to break our border wall. It backfired spectacularly. As you can see, it wiped out their own casting circle and the local apprentice unit.
Eldon walked past her, his boots stopping right in front of Logan. He looked down at the boy, his sharp eyes examining the apprentice's bloody clothes. And this one survived an artifact blast?
He was at the very edge of the perimeter, High Mage, Vivienne said, her voice unwavering. He is badly conciliated and shocked, but his injuries are consistent with a concussive wave. I have already checked him for lingering foreign magic. He is clean.
Eldon leaned down, his face inches from Logan’s. Logan kept his eyes cast down, holding his breath as the old man searched for any sign of deception.
A lucky rat, Eldon muttered, finally standing straight. Clean up the bodies and transport the survivor back to the barracks for questioning. We must ensure no other artifacts are in the area.
We will handle it immediately, Vivienne said, bowing her head.
The high mages turned back toward the ridge, their white robes billowing in the wind as they began to inspect the outer perimeter.
Vivienne waited until they were out of earshot before she turned back to Logan. She reached down to help him to his feet, her hand gripping his shoulder. As she pulled him up, his leather vest shifted slightly, exposing the base of his neck.
Vivienne froze, her breath catching sharply in her throat.
What is it? Logan asked, trying to adjust his shirt.
Look, Vivienne whispered, her voice trembling for the first time.
Logan looked down at his own chest. Right beneath his left collarbone, the skin was bubbling with a faint, golden heat. A perfectly shaped crest, depicting a dragon coiled around a broken star, was burning itself permanently into his flesh. The lines were sharp and dark, glowing with a quiet, undeniable power that no spell could ever hide.
Vivienne stared at the mark, her face turning pale in the morning light.
Is it bad? Logan asked, his heart sinking.
It is a civil war, Logan, Vivienne whispered, quickly pulling his collar up to cover the glowing mark. If anyone sees that crest, the crown will fall by morning.