Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

stood, both in human form, with one bearing chain mail armor, and a huge sword.
    “You cannot do this,” the armor-bearing Constantine said, the anger in his voice audible even across the centuries. “Allowing him to return to the sept will be the last straw. Chuan Ren will not tolerate that insult to pass. She will bring war to the black dragons, and the blame for that will lie directly at your feet.”
    “The First Dragon was wrong to force me to remove Baltic from the sept,” Alexei said, waving a weary hand at Constantine. “I am making peace with my own conscience.”
    “Who’s that with Constantine?” I heard Aisling whisper to Drake. He murmured an explanation. Aisling sounded astonished when she asked, “Baltic’s grandfather kicked him out of his own sept?”
    “Does Alexei know that all the black dragons are fighting one another outside?” I asked Baltic, my fingers tightening around his in acknowledgment of how hard I knew it was for him to watch this.
    “I don’t think he did. Constantine never expected that Alexei would go against the First Dragon’s command, and he struck out in fear and anger.”
    “Those guys fighting are with Constantine?” Aisling asked. “The black dragons, I mean-wait, they’re all black dragons at this point, aren’t they? This is so confusing. But some of those fighting are the same dragons who followed Constantine to the silver sept?”
    “I think so,” I answered, watching Baltic’s face. His eyes were filled with anger, his dragon fire running very hot within him as he watched the scene in front of us.
    “You can’t do that!” Constantine yelled, his voice filled with frustration as he slammed his fist into the wall. “I am your heir! You named me as heir.”
    “Baltic is heir now. You lost the challenge to him before he was removed from the sept,” Alexei said, holding up a hand in an obviously placatory gesture. “Do not lash me with your ire, Constantine. I am aware of your feelings, but I must think about what’s best for the sept, and the future of the black dragons lies with Baltic.”
    Constantine struck Alexei’s hand aside. “Because you wanted him for your heir all along, did you not? You named me as heir while he was young and unlearned, but all along you intended for him to take the sept when you could no longer hold it. You lied to me! You took my oath and swore the sept would be mine; yet you never intended for me to have it!” Constantine stormed around Alexei, his free hand gesturing wildly.
    I watched his other hand, the one holding the sword, knowing in my heart that Baltic had been right, and that Constantine was responsible for the death of Alexei. Was this the moment when he died? It must be-there would be few other reasons but murder that would prompt Baltic to send Brom away.
    “I will not have it!” Constantine screamed.
    Alexei frowned. “Recall yourself, Constantine. You allow your anger to overrule your mind, and forget who and what you are, and what you owe to me. You will not-”
    “No! It is you who will not.” Constantine took a deep breath. “You will not destroy me in this fashion. You will not bring Baltic back into the sept.”
    “It is already done,” Alexei said, his shoulders slumping a little. “I have accepted his fealty and granted him status within the sept once again. There is nothing you can do to change what fate has already written.”
    Constantine was working himself up into a frenzy, screaming curses at his wyvern.
    Baltic’s grip on my fingers turned painful as without warning, Constantine lunged forward. I spun around at the move, but not before I saw the sword flash and blood spray out in an arc.
    “Oh my god!” Aisling gasped in a choked voice.
    Baltic pulled me against his chest, his hands hard on my arms. I clung to him and bit back a sob, the emotions of the scene too much for me.
    “I will never suffer Baltic as wyvern! This sept will be mine, or I will see it destroyed!”
    “He really was mad, wasn’t he?” I asked Baltic, wiping my eyes on his shirt before looking up at him. “You weren’t exaggerating when you told me he wanted to see you and the sept destroyed.”
    “I wasn’t exaggerating,” he said, his muscles tight as Constantine stormed through the middle of us, blood dripping from his sword, a fanatical light in his eyes.
    “But he seems so normal now. Well, somewhat normal,” Aisling said, shuddering as she looked away.
    “His madness was always cold