Legions of Bone: Dragon Rider Book 3

Chapter 13: What The Dark God Said

OOOOO BOY, I'm so excited for you to read this chapter. I was dreaming about this chapter for fucking weeks, lmao.
Also, For the next few chapters it's mainly going to be in Dagen and Holland's POV because Norahs part is kinda slowed until a certain THING happens which happened in like three or four chapters :) I really appreciate you guys sticking through all the gloom and dark stuff and I promise the entire book won't be like this.
I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter : )

Holland

    Holland missed instructing.

He missed the activeness and constant change it brought. How learning what worked for his students required both his mind and body.

Holland had always loved students that learned through physical action. It meant he demonstrated more. Holding different stances so the student could see what he did and copy it. He missed taking his students into the woods around the Main Halls, teaching them how to survive if their dragon ever crashed. He missed his students and the eagerness glistening in their eyes, ready to absorb his lessons like sponges.

But politics was not an active job.

The most he did now was pace from room to room to sit in four-hour-long meetings and listen to absolute nonsense. Holland understood that some people thrived in politics by weaving webs of lies, calculating things he would have never considered. Holland had done his own version of politics in battlefields, calculating moves and inspiring soldiers with speeches. But mind games were not who he was.

However, meeting with the inner circle and Easton, who was shadowing his father, that was planning he could do.

"We could send dragon riders," Ingren suggested, planting his elbows on the table. He studied the map of their continent before him with stern eyes.

    Easton frowned at him, seated beside his father. "I thought we were pulling people back?"

    "We are," his father said. "But civilians and camps where our soldiers would hold no ground are retreating."

Ingren stood from his seat, one hand planted on the table dominating the barren room. He leaned over the map spread in the middle of them all, drawing his finger from the bottom to the top of the continent where mage lands merged into common territory.

    "I know it's a long shot, but we could make a border," Ingren started, his voice like smooth stone. "A No Man's Land."

    "That's a lot of ground," Holland told him, but his mind churned. He studied the far right of the continent, where the mage territory was barren compared to the other side. The left had clusters of metal dragon pieces, cities, and shiny pieces of pawns, while the right had small, simple pieces that clustered where the Thrawlers were located.

Only a fourth of the mage territory was left; at the top of the peninsula that split into two sections, creating crescent coves. It unnerved Holland how barren the mage side was. How much had been destroyed by The Darkening.

    "What do you mean by No Man's Land?" Easton asked.

    "Trenches that run coast to coast," Ingren clarified. "The bottoms could have traps. Quicksand. Caltrops. Spikes. Anything that could get Thrawlers stuck. This space would have no soldiers. Nothing for The Darkening to bring back, but a place where we could lessen their numbers."

    Easton crossed his arms, dark brows knitted in concern. "That would take a long time, wouldn't it?" He glanced at his father who nodded. "It's thousands and thousands of miles to cover."