by Scott Moore
Malik tried to gauge Embre’s reaction. If she was shocked, she did not show it. She had a steady calm about her. Malik wondered if it was still the tea, because even his heart did not race at recalling what happened next.
“When they went into the tent, we followed and listened to see what was happening. Inside, your mother and Sweet Tongue talked of a deal they had made. They would exchange Abrie for a spot in the Tempre Warriors for your brother, Zimbre,” she said.
“Zimbre had asked mother to travel to Gray Waters to fight in the mercenary tournament. She was considering the benefit to the village,” Embre interjected.
Mollie waited to see if she was going to add anything further, but Embre did not speak again.
“Sweet Tongue had become nervous about your brother, Timbre. He was worried that Timbre would not agree with the transaction and he would chase after them. He asked your mother if she thought Timbre would be easily deterred and your mother did not sound confident, but she assured him Timbre would do as he was told. It turns out, that Timbre could not have done anything to Sweet Tongue or anyone else. Your brother, Zimbre, had killed him earlier that evening.” Mollie stopped again, giving Embre time to process what had been said.
Embre’s mask of ease did slip in that moment, but she did not break down. “He was one of the best things about the village. He was a good man and a strong hunter,” she said.
Malik thought Embre was just being brave. She did not seem like a girl who would fall in front of others without standing back up and dusting herself off. She was not a fighter like Mollie, but she was just as strong willed. At least that would have been Malik’s guess.
“What happened after that?” Embre asked.
Malik thought the tone of her question sounded like she knew there was more.
Mollie hesitated a moment, looked to the old man who waved her on. “Afterward someone in the tent, we don’t know who, killed your mother. Sweet Tongue took Abrie and rode out of the village with him. However, that was not before he lit the medical tent on fire. We don’t know how many people died in that rapidly spreading fire. However, we do know that nothing would be left of those tents or supplies,” Mollie said.
Embre looked down and away. Her mask was slipping just as rapidly as the fire had spread. The old man reached out to her patted her on the shoulder once, and then he refilled her tea glass. Embre grabbed the cup up and drained it in one long gulp. When she placed the cup back down onto the table, her face had built back up the mask of serenity.
“Thank you,” she said to Mollie.
Khris, who had been quiet during the whole story, finally broke his silence. “Are you the keeper of the Crystal Dragon?” he asked.
The old man took a sip of his tea, looking over the rim at the three companions and Egg, who was still latched to Mollie.
Malik thought about the mules, outside the cabin door, but he had not heard the beast again, so he felt better about leaving them outside.
“Do you know what that creature on your friend’s arm is?” the old man asked Khris.
Khris took a moment to look over to Egg. Malik looked over too, but he had no idea what Egg really was. He knew that the adult versions were man-eating monsters, but Egg had not kill them yet. Not to say that Malik trusted it.
“I don’t,” Khris said.
“I did not assume you were aware. They have been around for thousands of years and yet still people do not know them by name. Not to mention that no one understands what they do or can do, I should say.” The old man reached out putting a finger on Egg’s head. Egg moved slightly, opening its wide eyes to stare at the old man’s face.
“I will not bore you with the long-standing history of the Saints, the church, and those who would have seen the world drop to its knees. What I will tell you is this simple truth. The Dracolosus, or the Monsters of the Saint’s Blight, are ancient creatures with cognition equal to humans. The only thing that saves our race from these creatures is their inability to live in groups. Mother’s hatch children, eat their youth, and grow stronger for it. Fathers are eaten to sustain the mother as well. The female creature uses the nutrients to produce the eggs. Very few young make it to adulthood and that is a blessing to humans. However, as you can see, those introduced to other creatures early enough can coexist,” the old man took his finger from Egg and looked up to Mollie.
“However, even a friendly Dracolosus is a dangerous creature. Deep in the mountains of Luberg, is a cave that protects the last blessings of the Saint’s Blight. There is a relic there that protects the world from dying. The Saints are trapped into this relic and if they were let out the Dracolosus would be the least of humanities worries.”
The old man finished his small sermon on the horrors of the world. Malik had no idea what he had been rambling about. The Saints were a religious faction that were supposed to be direct descendants of the gods. They were not evil, and they would not be associated with these creatures.
“What does the Crystal Dragon have to do with this?” Khris asked.
“Ahh yes.” the old man wrung his hands together. “The legend of the Crystal Dragon is a tale as old as Luberg and older still. It is said that when the Saints came to Earth, they were filled with hope, vigor, and a passion to help humanity grow. The gods had sent them to assist mankind in making this world a paradise. However, soon the Saints realized that humanity was filthy, greedy, and animalistic. They grew to resent those they had been sent to help. Together, they banded on the outskirts of what would someday be called Luberg. There they summoned the power to create a second set of Saints. These Saints shared the powers of all the others combined, but something had gone wrong. These Saints were supposed to be true to taking over humanity and attaining a true paradise. However, they came out as beasts with murderous rage that had no care if their victim was human or Saint. The Saints ran from their sight and realized that in doing this act, they were no better than the humans they hated. Still, they would kill the new Saints and then fix the problems of the world. So, they made more creatures. The Dracolosus were the only creatures that survived the bouts of death filled wars, plagues, and the Saint’s Blight. They were known then as the Saint’s Monsters, but overtime they were forgotten. The Dracolosus have never been a large population, due to their inability to coexist. However, some smaller outlying countries talk of them all the time. They talk about how the creatures were the death of the Saints. Although, it is impossible to say for sure what trapped the Saints. Whatever did, in the end, put them in a relic that was said to burn with the fire of dragons. It is said to still sit in the site of the Saint’s Blight. Surrounded by nothing but death, pain, and destruction,” the old man stopped again, taking a deep breath.
“With this relic hidden, the world is safe. If it is retrieved by the wrong hands… well that would be devastating to all of humanity,” the old man finished. He took another sip of his tea and said nothing else.
“So, the Tempre Warriors are looking for the Crystal Dragon to destroy the world?” Malik asked, still highly confused on what was being said.
“They want the Saint’s power,” Khris answered without waiting on the old man to do so.
“That is my assumption,” the old man added his weight to the offered answer.
Malik thought that at a time like this, he should have felt alarmed, scared, panicked, or any other emotion. Instead, he felt nothing but confusion. It was hard to grasp what the old man was saying. It was even harder to understand the significance, if it was the truth. This old man did live out in the middle of nowhere. He may very well have been insane, and yet, Malik found that he believed him. At least, he believed that the old man believed the story he had told.
“What will happen if they find it and use it?” Malik asked.
Khris did not have an answer this time.
“They will break the relic and cause a second Blight to destroy the land. The creatures that the Saint’s created to destroy humanity will rise again with them. It will be t
he end of the world as you know it,” the old man answered.
Malik knew one thing; the Tempre Warriors were a nuisance enough without added power. If they attained more, then it would be impossible to get his revenge.
“So, how do we make sure this does not happen?” Malik asked.
The old man looked all around the table. “Well, I suppose, you will have to work together. If you can attain the relic before the Tempre can, then you can bring it to me and I will hide it away again,” he answered.
Malik did not like the idea of going against the Tempre for a relic. He needed to save Abrie and then run far away.
“Why can’t you go get it? If you know so much about it and know where it is, then why don’t you just go grab it before the Tempre get there?” Malik asked.
“I am not quite as young as I once was. I am afraid I would be of little use. Not to mention, it is not I who knows where the cave is. It is your friend here who can show you,” the old man pointed toward Egg.
Egg gave a stretch and a yawn in reply.
“Follow him, and he will show you the way,” the old man added.
Malik looked to the creature on Mollie’s arm. “What happens when we get there?” Malik asked.
The old man shrugged his boney shoulders. “I do not pretend to know that answer. I know much about the relic and its history. I know the Saints by name and ancestry, but I do not know what happened to them to be placed into that relic and I do not know what guards it.”
Malik did not like that answer. There could have been anything in that cave. The word dragon alone brought up images of being roasted alive. Being a bard, Malik knew thousands of stories about dragons. No one had seen one in over five hundred years, but all still claimed they fully existed in the mountains of Luberg. Was that part of the myth of the Crystal Dragon? A piece that generations had held onto, even though they had forgotten the source?
“We have to make sure this doesn’t happen,” Mollie blurted out, ruining Malik’s thoughts.
Malik knew that Khris would agree with her. This was a reoccurring sentiment. He would be dragged along, kicking and screaming. Khris was not the first to answer though.
“I will go with you,” Embre said.
Malik almost laughed. Embre, who had no fighting skills, was going to volunteer on a journey of sure death.
“I will be with you,” Khris added in.
Two untrained fighters, Malik thought. He was not so sure he wanted to throw his life into the fire. He still was young. He could still look for Abrie and get out of Luberg. Did he even believe what the old man was saying? It all made very little sense to him. Everyone was staring at him, awaiting his answer.
Malik looked into Mollie’s eyes and thought he saw them pleading to him. What help would he even be? He froze at the thought of death, every time. He could not swing a sword, shoot a bow, or fight. He was nothing but a third untrained hand to add to the group. Still, Mollie held her breath, waiting for his answer. He could see that he would destroy a bit of hope if he decided to stay away from the foolish journey.
“I do not like it,” Malik started.
Mollie smiled, not letting him finish.
“Then it is settled, we will all find this relic, bring it back here, and stop the Tempre from destroying the world,” Mollie said.
Malik figured she was way too happy to be walking into the literal Saint’s Hell, but he said nothing to deter her.
The old man smiled and poured another round of tea. If nothing else, at least he would get one last night’s calm sleep due to the tea.
Chapter 24
The road of thoughts
The old man let them sleep in the loft of the cabin which turned out to be much larger than Malik would have assumed at first glance. Each of them received their own beds, covers, and pillows. Malik, after the tea, slept like a baby. Waking up in the morning, he felt better rested than he had felt in a long time; maybe ever.
The old man fixed them breakfast, helped them pack food and water onto Callie and Sally, and then handed them a large bag of coins. He did not allow them to protest the large sum; he just waved it off like it was a small gesture.
Malik remembered only taking a few steps before he turned back to get a final glance at the cabin, but when he looked the cabin was gone. He mentioned this to the others who were just as confused, but after walking in the sun for much of the day, it was forgotten.
“We should stop and set up camp,” Mollie said after a long day.
No one protested, even though they could have walked for a few more hours in the light of the sun. They had no idea how far it was to their destination. Malik felt that the longer it took, the more days he would be allowed to live. Once they got there, wherever there was, there was no telling what they would find.
Malik unloaded Callie and Sally and let them graze the small amount of grass near the camp. Khris started the small cook fire, and Mollie prepped the meal. All the while, Embre watched trying to find a role in the group. Malik had not noticed the unspoken unity he, Mollie, and Khris had gathered.
“What did you normally do in your camp?” Malik asked, stepping up beside Embre.
Embre looked around the camp. “This is nothing like my village,” she said. “There, I did nothing to help myself. We had herders for the animals, workers for the tents and fires, guards for protection, and kitchen help for food. This is all new to me.”
Malik tried to think of such a sheltered life, but it was hard for him to grasp it. Abrie had him toiling away since the first day he was found by him. He had known how to start a fire, cook, and brush down the mules by the end of the first week. To be this age and know nothing of the effort it took to survive, surprised him.
Then again, what had Khris known when they had escaped his village? Embre would learn in time, if they had time.
“Here, I will help you learn to put up the tent. It is a nice night and normally we could just sleep under the stars, but it is a good skill to know, in a pinch,” Malik said.
Embre did not balk at the task. Malik handed her a bag and instructed her to find the smoothest area around the fire. They ended up having to clear small pebbles and rocks away from a small dirt patch, but it allowed Malik to lose himself in the work. Embre struggled and grunted beside him, and Malik found that he was laughing at her efforts. He was not making fun of her, just amazed that someone found something so simple a laborious task.
“Did you never have to do any work in the village at all?” Malik asked her.
Embre stopped what she was doing, sweat dripping down her forehead. Malik tried to hide the smile that was forming.
“I was not to soil my hands, dress, or face,” Embre answered.
“If you could not help with the tents, food, cleaning, or any of the other chores around the camp, then what was it you did?” Malik asked, trying not to sound offensive.
Embre stopped trying to tie the rope to the tent stake. She had been fiddling with the task for almost ten minutes. Every time she thought she got the hang of it; the knot would come undone and her side of the tent would inevitably fall. Malik tried to help her several times, but she was adamant that she would learn the task and be of help to the group.
Malik glanced over his shoulder to see if the others were done with their tasks. Khris was sitting down beside a small cook fire, and Mollie was staring a dagger through the back of Malik’s head. He tried to remember what he could have done to make her mad this time, but it could have literally been anything.
“Sometimes my mother would allow me to sing,” Embre said.
Malik turned back around to face her. She was vigorously trying to tie the knot around the stake again. Malik was very happy that the night sky would be clear and that the tent was just a distraction.
“At taverns?” Malik asked, wondering if they had ever played in the same place before.
Embre was already shaking her head, “no, never quite that ambitious. Mother would not engage with the innkeepers or the bar
maids. She said that they were below our standards of company. She traded with them all the same. Their coin must have been to our standard.” Embre gave a soft, scornful laugh.
“I am sorry about your mother,” Malik added, as an afterthought. He was not sorry about her mother. At least, he was not sorry that she died. He was sorry because he figured Embre would be mourning for it.
Embre did not tear up, look sorrowful, or even frown at the mention of her mother’s death. Not to say she looked happy, she just looked indifferent.
“She was not a good person. Not in the way you want your parents to be. She was my mother, however. Not my favorite person, but she gave me birth. She fed me for several years, she clothed me while I was young, and she always kept me sheltered; sometimes too sheltered. I will not miss who she was, but sometimes I fear I will miss what I wanted her to be,” Embre replied.
Malik had loved his parents. He cherished their memory, but he understood the sentiment. He found himself longing more for what could have been with his family, rather than what had already been.
“Did you have anyone you were close to in the village?” Malik asked.
He could not remember most of his fellow village members. Sure, he knew a handful of names, he could almost remember some faces, but mostly he just knew their screams. Embre had been much older than him when the Tempre had come though. She would be more akin to Mollie in her plight.
“Just my brother, Timbre,” Embre stopped tying again. She still did not have the knot down, but Malik could see she was getting closer. “Timbre was a good person. I can’t name a lot of good acts he did, he was not a hero. He was not great with words, even if he fancied himself a poet. He was just good, in his heart. He would do what others would not. He would not balk at helping or lending a hand. I just miss having him to talk with,” Embre said.
