Anogrion's roar tore through the smoky sky, startling not only the birds in the forest but every soul in the camp. Men felling trees in the woods dropped their axes in fear at the sound. Women fell to their knees while children burst into tears; some of the elderly even fainted from terror. Anogrion's arrival was not merely a sound—it was as if the heavens themselves had been ripped open. When its massive wings blotted out the sun, a sudden, chilling shadow fell over the forest and the camp. Even Vaelar and Darion, accustomed to the power of dragons, were forced to take a step back in the face of the sheer ferocity of the beast's landing.
Anogrion landed with a thunderous crash in the middle of the meadow, just beyond the cages. Its claws sank into the earth, causing the fresh soil over the graves to tremble slightly. In its jaws it carried the carcass of a gigantic, black-feathered bison it had torn from the wilds of this region. With arrogant disdain it dropped the corpse to the ground and threw its head back, letting out another roar.
As Vaegon watched Anogrion, he heard Vaelar's voice from behind: "Look at that, Vaegon. Isn't it more like a big dog than a dragon?"
Vaegon turned his head and looked at Vaelar, who stood there with a mocking grin on his face. "A dog recognizes a dog, brother. By the way, Vaelar, I haven't seen you working—why are you sweating?"
The mocking smile on Vaelar's lips trembled for a moment. He wiped the cold beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, trying not to swallow, but the movement of his Adam's apple gave him away.
"The sun," Vaelar said, shrugging as he tried to suppress the slight tremor in his voice. "It's scorching this damned meadow—must be that. Not because I'm afraid that giant lizard, fresh from carrying a huge animal carcass in its mouth, might suddenly swoop down and swallow me for breakfast."
Vaegon, with a mocking glint in his eyes, chose not to press his brother further and let the conversation drop. Vaelar's jokes were merely a paper-thin armor he wore to cover the primitive, icy terror gnawing at him inside. His gaze kept drifting to Anogrion's bloodied jaws and the teeth that snapped the bison's ribcage like a thin branch. At the same time he glanced at Aeloris and felt at least a small sense of security—at least he had a dragon to protect him.
While the two watched Anogrion, they heard footsteps approaching and the snapping of small twigs on the forest floor. Then came Darion's voice, filled with admiration: "Look at that, brothers—this is a work of art, nature's extraordinary creation."
Vaelar glanced at his brother with a sneer. "It really is a beautiful work of art. The only problem is that it could eat you."
Darion shrugged. "Perfect, isn't it? With such magnificent works of art in our hands, who could possibly threaten us?"
Just as Vaelar was about to reply, Vaegon's voice cut through: "Why are you two idling here? Go and work."
The two brothers fell silent at once. Vaegon had turned around, arms crossed over his chest, staring at them sternly. Vaelar immediately protested with concern: "Work, brother? What work? We are noble dragon lords. How can you expect us to work like ordinary people? We should be rulers and overseers—that's what sets us apart from them."
Vaegon frowned at his brother's words. "Dragon lord? You think our current situation matches those words, brother? Just so you can stay comfortable, we're going to linger in this forest even longer? Go and work so we can leave this place sooner and find some peace."
Darion stepped forward to calm his older brother. "You're right, Vaegon, but we—"
"No buts," Vaegon cut him off. "Go and help cut those trees. And Darion—don't forget to use that axe you're carrying."
Vaelar's eyes flashed with anger. "You can't be serious! Do you know how valuable that axe is? Others would start wars over it, and you want me to use it to chop firewood?"
"Vaelar," Vaegon said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "if you open your mouth again and disobey my order, I'll throw you in front of Anogrion. Not even Aeloris will be able to save you."
Vaelar involuntarily looked at Anogrion, who was tearing apart the carcass, and swallowed hard. His hands began to tremble, but he said nothing. He knew Vaegon would do exactly what he said. Darion, meanwhile, had already accepted it in silence and was waiting quietly.
Vaegon scanned the men working in the forest. His eyes found Maekar, standing beside the trees with one arm bandaged and holding an axe in the other, and behind him Aeros and Vaenis, carrying logs on their shoulders with sweat dripping from their foreheads. Seeing Vaenis—a lord—carrying firewood, he raised a single eyebrow.
"Maekar! Aeros!" he called.
Both dropped what they were carrying and hurried to his side.
"My lord?"
"My lord?"
Vaegon pointed at Vaelar and Darion with his hand. "Take these two. They will work personally. Show them what to do and don't let them slack off. And Maekar—put Vaelar on log-carrying duty. Let him learn to bend a little."
Aeros and Maekar's eyes widened. They looked at Vaelar and Darion, then back at Vaegon. The masters of mighty winged creatures were going to work like laborers. And most importantly, ordinary men like themselves would now give orders to these two lords. While looking at them in fear and seeing that neither spoke nor moved, they glanced at Vaegon once more, then bowed their heads with admiration in their eyes.
"As you command, my lord."
Maekar and Aeros, following Vaegon's order, led Vaelar and Darion into the forest to the tree-felling area. Vaelar grumbled with every step, angrily crushing the branches under his feet. Darion remained silent, gazing at the Star Doom in his hand and sighing.
Watching his brothers leave, Vaegon shook his head in exasperation. By now the sun had risen high, and the camp's activity had increased. While heading from the forest toward Anogrion, halfway there he was stopped by Lord Daemir's wife, Lady Vaemira, and her daughter Lady Daemira, their faces filled with embarrassment.
"Lord Vaegon," Lady Vaemira murmured, her voice almost a whisper. "We… we need to consult you about something."
Vaegon frowned. The woman's demeanor clearly indicated a problem. "Is something wrong, my lady? Has something happened?"
Vaemira glanced at her daughter, then turned back to Vaegon. Her cheeks were flushed. "It's… about the matter of the latrine. For the women and children… we don't know how to handle it. We go somewhere in the forest, but…"
Vaegon understood what the woman meant. Such basic needs rarely crossed the minds of men in camp life. But now they needed to establish an arrangement where the women could feel comfortable too.
Lady Daemira spoke timidly from behind her mother. "Especially for the women… it would be better if there was a secluded place without men. We feel ashamed."
Vaegon thought for a moment. Then he nodded. "You're right. I should have thought of this." He pointed toward the thickets a little further from the camp. "That side, behind the stream. There are dense trees there—a secluded spot."
Vaemira's face relaxed. "Thank you, my lord. We just… couldn't do it without asking."
Vaegon smiled inwardly at the woman's embarrassment. "Please don't hesitate. Every need is important. I'll send a few men right away to help you."
Vaemira and her daughter thanked him and walked away. Vaegon watched them go. Leadership was not only about fighting and giving orders. It was also about thinking of people's most basic needs.
Instead of going straight to Anogrion, Vaegon headed toward the cage he himself had brought.
As he approached the iron bars, the sharp smell of ammonia and feces made him wrinkle his nose. Some men were huddled in the corners of the cages; others relieved themselves right where they stood without any shame. This was the animalistic surrender brought by fear and despair. Yet Vaegon knew very well that if this filth wasn't ended, disease would ravage the camp before any enemy sword could.
His eyes found Aerion and Maelor, whom he had brought from the arena along with Maekar. The two were sitting apart from the other prisoners, backs resting against each other. The stench bothered them too—they were holding their noses. Vaegon frowned at the sight. As he approached, one of the prisoners saw him and knelt, crying out, "My lord, my lord, please give us water and food. I haven't eaten or drunk for two days." Hearing him, the others began to beg as well. At that moment Aerion and Maelor stood up and walked toward Vaegon inside the cage. After opening the unlocked cage door that no one had touched, Vaegon spoke to Aerion and Maelor who approached him, his voice rising with every sentence:
"Why are you two sitting idly here? Don't you see the misery around you? Don't you hear the hunger of these people? The others are chained—they can't get out. So why aren't you going outside and helping these people?"
Aerion and Maelor froze under Vaegon's scolding. Both their faces flushed, their eyes dropped to the ground. Aerion swallowed hard, then lifted his head and tried to speak:
"My lord, we… we wanted to go out, but…" His voice trailed off; he looked at Maelor beside him. Maelor was equally ashamed.
But Maelor gathered his courage and continued, "Maekar told us 'stay where you are, wait until an order comes.' So we…"
Vaegon listened to the young man's excuse, but his expression did not soften. "Maekar told you to wait—fine. But waiting does not mean watching the people around you lie in filth." He gestured toward the inside of the cage. "Look over there! People are hungry, thirsty, and lying in their own waste. In a few days disease will break out here, and then we will all die. This concerns not only the cage but the entire camp."
"Don't you think you should show a little initiative?"
Aerion's eyes filled with tears, but he did not cry. He clenched his teeth and held his head high. "You are right, my lord. The fault is ours. What do you command us to do?"
Vaegon paused for a moment and looked inside the cage. Then, in a firm voice, he began to speak:
"First, you will clean up this filth. On the eastern side of the camp, in the wooded area where the wind blows away from us, dig deep pits for the men. Then distribute water and food to these people. Share whatever we have. There are people starving."
Maelor immediately moved. "We'll do it at once, my lord. But… there are no shovels or picks, no water containers."
Vaegon waved his hand impatiently. "Then find them. I gave my order—I don't care how it's done, but I want it done."
Vaegon's words left a heavy silence inside the cage.
Aerion and Maelor looked at each other.
A moment of hesitation.
Then Aerion bowed his head.
"As you command, my lord."
Without another word, Vaegon fully opened the door.
The iron bars creaked.
Aerion and Maelor stepped outside.
The prisoners inside the cage watched them with wide, hopeful eyes.
At that moment Vaegon stood in the middle of the meadow beneath the smoky sky, observing the general state of the camp. On one side was the bustle of women and children, on the other those digging trenches to clean up the filth… And of course, the rhythmic, uninterrupted sound of axes coming from the forest.
Vaegon murmured to himself, "I told them to work, but… I must work too. Leadership is not just giving orders. It is setting an example." He directed his steps toward the tree-felling area at the edge of the forest. The scent of freshly cut pine somewhat dispelled the heavy air of the camp. When he entered among the trees, the scene he encountered formed a faint, merciless smile on his lips.
Vaelar was carrying a heavy log on his shoulder, sweat pouring down his bare back. He stumbled with every step, muttering curses while out of breath. Just ahead of him, Darion was furiously and clumsily bringing his priceless "Star Doom" down on the trunk of a thick oak. His hands were already blistered, his face smeared with dirt and soot.
Standing above them like unyielding guards, Maekar had his arms crossed, watching every move of the lords. Aeros was turning the cut logs into sharpened stakes, pointing both ends.
When Vaelar dropped the log to catch his breath, Maekar pointed to the axe on the ground with his good hand.
"I don't recall giving you permission for a break, Lord Vaelar," he said, his voice showing not the slightest trace of pity. "The sun has passed its peak. We still need at least fifty more stakes for the walls. Bend down and take the next log."
Vaelar straightened up angrily and opened his mouth to shout something at Maekar, but at that moment he saw Vaegon walking toward them through the trees. Meeting Vaegon's cold gaze, Vaelar's words caught in his throat. Gritting his teeth in resentment, he had no choice but to bend down to the log again.
Vaegon saw that the sharpened stakes were piled only where his brothers were working. Looking around, he noticed that the other woodcutters were working in groups of three, and the stakes they produced were being carried away by the third person. With a weary sigh he said, "Vaelar, look around you. Do you see anyone else besides you who isn't carrying the cut logs?"
Without waiting for Vaelar's answer, Vaegon went over to the ready stakes, bundled them, hoisted them onto his shoulder, and began carrying them. He felt his muscles tense under the weight of the logs pressing on his shoulder. The burden on his back was not as light as a lord's cloak; with every step his feet sank deeper into the soft forest floor. His action froze everyone in the forest for a moment.
With Vaegon joining in, the pace in the forest changed instantly. No one dared complain about the load on their shoulders. As the sun left its burning zenith and slid westward, the air turned to late afternoon and the sky was painted a dirty orange. Finally, all the necessary wood was cut, and thousands of sharpened stakes were ready.
"Enough," Vaegon said, dropping his last load. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his gaze was still steel-hard. "Now load these logs into the cage where the chests are."
Exhausted Vaelar, hearing Vaegon's words, came right beside him and said, "What are you going to do, Vaegon? Did you make us work this hard just to put logs in the cages?"
Ignoring his brother's words, Vaegon looked at the nervously standing horses among the cages and said, "Do you remember the Moran town we came from before? I'm thinking of going there first to gather information. These stakes are for our safety when we camp."
Without listening to his brother's words, Vaegon began walking toward Anogrion. After devouring its hunted prey, Anogrion was lying like Aeloris and Vendieron. The dragons had basked in the sun all day, full and content. When he placed his hand on Anogrion's head, its blood-red eyes opened. As Vaegon ran his hand over its head he said, "Old friend, do you know how much you scared me? But I must thank you—you helped me again. You made me understand that I am truly alive in this world." Anogrion only let out a small rumble. But even that rumble was enough to frighten most people. Vaegon smiled at this.
When everything was ready, the three brothers met in the middle of the meadow.
Anogrion had raised its head and was breathing slowly and deeply. Its massive chest rose and fell with each breath, warm vapor streaming from its nostrils. A little further away, Aeloris had half-opened its wings, gathering the last rays of sunlight on its scales. Vendieron was slowly dragging its tail across the grass.
Vaegon grasped the reins and climbed onto Anogrion's neck. The dragon's scales had been warmed by the sun all day; when he placed his hand there, he felt a living warmth beneath.
"We're ready," he said briefly.
Vaelar grumbled as he climbed onto Aeloris's back.
Darion held on to Vendieron's neck and settled into place.
Then Anogrion spread its wings.
The sound of the wings opening was like the creaking of a giant sail straining in a storm.
The first wingbeat shook the meadow violently. Earth flew into the air. Dry grass scattered. The smoke from the campfires dispersed.
The second beat was even stronger.
Anogrion pressed its claws into the ground, muscles tensed… and lifted its massive body into the air. The ground rapidly fell away. The meadow began to shrink.
Aeloris rose immediately after, its bright wings blotting out the sun for a moment. Vendieron followed like a dark shadow.
And the three dragons, with large cages dangling from their claws, tore through the sky of the forest and soared westward.