The Dark Sea Beyond

by Rye Sobo

  While he stood at the base of the mountain, marveling at something so massive, a monstrous red dragon plunged through the clouds toward him before it arched up on the wind currents at the base of the mountain and soared off into the lowlands for prey. And so, faced with certain death, Pallum climbed the mountain.

  Pallum climbed the red, craggy cliffs of the Stormreach, resting on ledges only a hand wide when he tired. As the sun set over the lush green plains, the clouds above him grew heavy and darkened. Searching his surroundings, high above the ground below, Pallum found a small cave in the cliff face. With a mighty push he lifted himself into the small cavern just as the rain pounded stone cliffs.

  “Welcome my friend,” a voice in the cave spoke. “You are late by several days.”

  “Forgive me,” said Pallum. “I am not who you think. I was climbing the mountains when the storm struck. Your cave was nearby, and I sought shelter. When the storm passes, I will leave you in peace.”

  Pallum could see the voice came from an old woman with long gray hair. She wore rags, little more than a sack, like the one he carried with him, tied at the waist.

  “Are you not Pallum, son of Kaylon?” asked the woman.

  “I am,” said Pallum.

  “Are you not on a quest to see the edge of the world? To fly with the dragons?” asked the woman.

  “I am,” said Pallum. “But how do you know me?”

  “You have been in my dreams for many nights,” the woman said. “The Fabric of the World has shown you to me. I mean to warn you the path ahead is dangerous.”

  “And if you have seen what is to come, can you lend me aid?” said Pallum.

  “I will give you shelter for the night,” the woman said.

  The offer relieved Pallum. He did not want to offend the hermitess. He thanked her and offered her the wedge of cheese he had carried from his home. He regaled the woman with tales of home and his quest to the mountains.

  The rain fell all night, and Pallum slept well on the stone floor of the hermitess’s cave. In the morning, the old woman presented him with three packages.

  In the first package Pallum found food, a mountain goat slaughtered and salted and wrapped in burlap. The second package was a hempen rope tied into a tight coil. The third package contained a beautiful golden kissar.

  “You are most generous, hermitess,” said Pallum. “But I can not take this last gift. I am humble farmer on my way to a certain death. There is no way I can repay you for this kindness.”

  The old woman laughed.

  “You left your farm months ago,” said she. “Your fields are now overgrown with weeds. You left your own kind to climb a mountain no gnome has seen over. You faced down a dragon to climb into the home of a witch.”

  “You are a witch?” Pallum said, now scared for his life.

  “I am what I am,” the woman said. “I recognize what I am and can rejoice in it. You, however, do not see what you are.”

  “And what am I?” Pallum asked the witch.

  “You left your home a farmer,” said the old woman. “You return home a husband, a father, and a king.”

  The words of the old woman startled Pallum, but he took heart in the fact he would return home.

  “But now it is time for you to leave,” the woman said.

  Pallum gathered up his belongings and the three packages, taking care to put everything in his sack. He bid the old woman farewell and left the cave to climb again.

  Pallum climbed for days, sleeping in crevices to keep from falling from the cliffs. He thought about the words of the old woman while he climbed.

  “How long will I be gone if I will be a father when I return?” said Pallum to himself. “It would have to be many summers before a child could travel any distance.”

  He put the thoughts out of his mind and continue onward. At last Pallum reached a massive plateau and a large cave high in the mountains. Mighty wyrms lounged in the sun as Pallum climbed on to the plateau. As you or I would regard an ant that was the dragon’s response to Pallum. So small was the gnome he went unnoticed by the dragons as they basked in the summer sun.

  And so it surprised the dragons when a voice thundered around them.

  “I am Pallum. I have climbed the Stormreach and wish to fly to the ends of the world, to see what lies beyond mountains, beyond the sea.”

  The largest of the dragons was not lounging in the sun. No, the largest of the dragons was Tyrax, Queen of the Dragons. She was asleep deep inside the mountain when the tiny gnome began his thunderous proclamation. Disrupted from her slumber, the golden dragon — as big as a mountain —stepped out onto the plateau to see what had awakened her.

  “You, tiny man, make demands in my home? I do not care what you wish,” Tyrax said. “I wish to eat, and while you are but a morsel, I will eat you. And after I am done, I will fly to the end of the world and shit your bones in to the sea.”

  Tyrax brought her snout down, level with Pallum. Pallum reached into his bag and produced the first package. As he tossed the salted goat in front of the dragon’s maw, the meat turned into an enormous pile of salted roasts. The Dragon Queen devoured goat and turned to Pallum.

  “You are useful indeed, but that goat was far too salted,” said Tyrax. She flapped her massive wings, about to take to the sky.

  Pallum shouted to the dragon, “If you are to fly, allow me to go with you.”

  “Very well, but if you fall from my back, I can not help you,” said Tyrax.

  With that, the gnome climbed onto the back of the golden dragon. When he was in place, Pallum produced the coil of rope from his sack and threw it out. The rope, as though guided by some unseen hand, pulled itself around the neck of the Dragon Queen and Pallum lashed himself to the back of the enormous serpent.

  “What are you playing at gnome?” asked the Dragon Queen.

  “I only wish to be safe during our journey,” said Pallum. “You said if I fell you could not help me, so I only mean to keep from falling. I am not strong enough to harm you and have no intention to do so. I only fear for my safety.”

  “You are right to fear for your safety,” said the Dragon Queen as she took to the sky. “It is I who intends to kill you.”

  The Dragon Queen raced through the sky at incredible speeds. She rolled, and spun, and slammed into the red cliffs. No matter what dragon tried, Pallum held tight to rope. When Tyrax had reached the edge of the land, she dove into the sea. Pallum held his breath as the serpent went deeper and deeper under the water.

  When at last she could not hold her breath any longer, Tyrax returned to the surface. She looked over her shoulder and said, “Little man, are you still there, or have I rid myself of you?”

  “I am still here,” said Pallum.

  “What can I do to rid myself of you for good?” asked Tyrax. “If I make you a deal, would you leave me in peace?”

  “I want nothing but peace for your kind, Dragon Queen,” said Pallum. “Speak your offer.”

  “If you want peace for the dragonkind, end the war between your kind and mine,” said Tyrax.

  “You are mistaken, Queen. There is no war between the gnomes and the dragons,” Pallum said.

  “You are not a dwarven warrior?” asked Tyrax.

  “I am not,” said Pallum. “And I did not know of a war between the dragons and the dwarves.”

  “For centuries it has raged. My clutch is the last on our island. I fear if the war does not end soon, they will banish the dragonkind to memory,” said the Dragon Queen.

  “Then I shall end the war,” said Pallum. “You must do as I ask, but know I seek to help you.”

  “And what do you ask of me, gnome?” said Tyrax.

  “Fly me to the Enclave of the dwarves, I shall end the war once and for all,” Pallum said.

  The Dragon Queen took to the sky once more, soaring above the clouds. No longer did she roll and spin, hoping to toss Pallum from her back. Tyrax the golden dragon flew to great fortification of the dwarves high in the m
ountains, close to the Dragons’ Roost.

  Tyrax landed on the mountain pass that led to the Enclave, and Pallum untied himself and climbed on the pass.

  “Listen close,” Pallum said. “When I call for you, come to my aid.”

  The Dragon Queen nodded and took to the sky. When she was out of sight, the gnome turned to the mighty stone fortress and walked up to the gates.

  The Dwarves are renowned the world over for their poetry. It is said when the gifts were divided among men by the gods, they gave the elves arcana, the humans charm, the orcs strength, the gnomes wisdom, and to the dwarves they gave the arts.

  And so it was when Pallum arrived at the gates of the Stormreach Enclave the dwarves greeted him with the poetic words that resounded through the ages.

  “Fook off, cunt,” said the dwarven guard. The other two guards at the gate roared in laughter. But Pallum did not laugh.

  “I am Pallum, king of the dragons, lord of lowlands, and master of the sea,” Pallum said. “I seek to challenge the king of the dwarves to a blood duel for the right to call myself king of the dwarves.”

  At this the guards stopped laughing. A challenge of a blood duel was a serious thing. And a challenge against the king, by an outsider no less, was an affront to the entire Enclave.

  The guards called for their commander, who called for a minister, who called for the king. The king, Regus Stormjaw, intrigued by the challenge, bid the outsider enter. They led Pallum into the Enclave, a privilege afforded only a few, in that time or since. Inside the Enclave, they led Pallum into the center of the dueling ring in the center city. Word of the challenge against the king spread like a disease in a whorehouse and the stands around the dueling ring filled.

  While the dwarves moved expectantly around in the stands, chattering about the outsider and his challenge, Pallum stood still. An attendant struck a massive stone bell, and silence consumed the Enclave. King Regus, the visage of a bronze statue to the god of war in his ornate armor and carrying a bronze axe as large as he, entered the ring. There were no cheers, no sounds, save for the crunch of sand under the king’s feet as he strode into the center of the ring.

  The king stopped ten paces from the gnome who still wore his simple burlap tunic and carried only his sack. Regus nodded to the gnome who returned the gesture.

  “If you wish to have a second, I will call for mine,” Pallum said to the King. It was common in blood duels for seconds to fight with the combatants, hoping to keep the honor of the family if one should fall.

  The king turned to the archway he had walked through and shouted for his second, his brother Gresweld. A burly dwarf in ornate bronze armor wielding a spear and shield stepped into the ring.

  Pallum turned toward the passageway he had entered through and bellowed a thunderous call, “Tyrax!”

  The dwarven guards looked at each other in confusion, the gnome had entered the city alone.

  Like a golden meteor, the Dragon Queen fell into the dueling ring. The force of the landing shattered the stones and shook the entire mountain. As the ground shook the great cylindrical stone bell that signaled the start of the duel struck the hammer and ringed out. Regus took a single step forward before Tyrax belched a jet of flame that consumed the dwarven king and his brother. The golden serpent bent low and grabbed both dwarves in her powerful maw, consuming both charred men whole. The entire duel was over before the dust had risen.

  Pallum stepped forward and picked up the axe and spear of the slain king and his brother and held them aloft. By the law of the Enclave, the gnome was now king of the dwarves.

  A dwarven cleric, dressed in red robes, stepped into the ring and bowed so low before Pallum his silver beard brushed the sand on the cracked stone of the ring. Before the cleric could speak a beautiful dwarven woman pushed aside him.

  “I am Salia Stormjaw, daughter to the late king,” the dwarven woman said.

  Pallum nodded to Salia. He knew better than to apologize for defeating her father in an honorable duel. And as unorthodox as fighting with dragon may have been, so was fighting with a gnome. They considered the entire affair honorable by dwarven law.

  “Hoping to retain some honor for my family, I ask to you to take me as one of your wives,” said Salia.

  Though humans, orcs, and gnomes each consider one wife enough for a marriage, the dwarves were more open in their relationships. High ranking dwarves, such as the king, could have many wives and saw no difference between men and women taking on the wifely duties. Regus, historians claimed, had thirty wives and would spend a night with a different one throughout the entire month.

  Pallum looked to the cleric.

  “All you would need to say, my king,” said the cleric, “is ‘it is so’.”

  “It is so,” said Pallum.

  “Then it is the tradition that a new king should go to the observatory at the peak of the Great Spire and look out over his kingdom,” The cleric said. “As far as you can see shall be your domain.”

  And so the cleric led the new king, his new wife, his dragon companion, and the dwarven nobility through the Enclave to the base of the Great Spire. Pallum climbed the stone steps to a small platform at the top of the spire. He stood at the very peak of the Stormreach Mountains and looked out. The clouds, which gave the mountains their name, obscured the view so that no king had ever seen further than the walls of the Enclave.

  Once more Pallum reached into his sack and pulled out a package, the golden kissar. The gnome held the kissar to his chest and then plucked the strings. With each note the surrounding air rippled with energy. With each wave the clouds moved further away from the Spire. It is said Pallum played the most beautiful song anyone had ever heard, and as he did, the clouds parted and the sun shone down on the Enclave.

  As Pallum looked out over his domain, he could see the entire island of what would become known as Greater Auster, the island of Lesser Auster, the surrounding islands, and the sea. Pallum saw the ocean as far as the edge of the world. He called for the cleric who climbed to the top of the Spire and fell on his knees and wept when he saw the view. Pallum would rule over all of it.

  Pallum climbed down from the Great Spire, to the crowd gathered below. As he stepped away from the crowds, Tyrax called him to her.

  The Dragon Queen, with a careful claw, placed a small orb in Pallum’s hand. It was an egg, a dragon egg, no bigger than a gnome’s fist.

  “I hope by giving you my child as your ward, you will continue to bring peace to our kinds, King of the Dwarves,” said Tyrax.

  Pallum bowed his head to the golden dragon, and she flew up into the sky. From that day forward, the dragons would entrust the brooding and hatching of their eggs to the gnomes, and in return the dragons would fight for the gnomes whenever they were called upon.

  Pallum ruled over the island until his twelve hundred and thirty fifth summer. His reign was one of peace and prosperity for all the inhabitants of the island. Two summers after his death, a Fortean warship landed in a harbor on the northern coast of the island. A thousand of Pallum’s sons and daughters and ten dragons met the warship. The Fortean mapmaker assigned to the ship labeled the inlet as the Harbor of Dragons. In their own tongue, Drakkas Port.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  For all the carefulness and caution Captain Azpa and the other officers used when working with me, afraid to insult the son of Zori Alsahar, Reno Leon returned with insults and aggression in our lessons.

  By the fifth day of the voyage, I had enough of vicious taunts from Sergeant Leon. I completed the early morning navigation lessons with Captain Azpa and headed to the main deck for weapons training. As I reached the deck, dagger tucked into my sash, Reno came from behind the mast and swung at me with a wide haymaker that connected with my right cheek.

  “The savages will not show you the mercy I have,” he said. He drew a heavy cutlass and brought it down toward me. I pulled my dagger to parry his attack. He pulled the strike at the last moment. I moved to put some space between Cort
and myself. Reno picked up a harpoon off the deck and hurled it at Cort, who twisted deftly to dodge the missile.

  “Savages! Listen to you,” I said. “What do you think we are? There are no savages in Whyte Harbor! We domesticated every island between here and a thousand leagues centuries ago.”

  He pulled the harpoon out of the deck where it had embedded beside Cort, turned, and hurled it at me. In a moment of panic, I did the only thing I could think of. I jumped over the side of the ship.

  “Man overboard!” Cort shouted.

  The crew in the rigging hurried to furl the sails as others scurried up from below deck and scanned the water for any sign of me. Reno stepped up to the gunnel and looked over the side. I clung to a tie-down just above the water line. As his barrel chest peered over the rail, I struck back.

  I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the yili, the energy, and drew as much of it as I could into myself. With my sebi locked on the waves crashing against the hull of the Fritzbink, I made a fist with one hand and reached down toward the sea below. I muttered an incantation for water, the same I had used on the adventurer’s armor a few days earlier.

  With all the strength I could muster, I thrust my fist into the air. A massive wave heaved up over the rail and into the chest of Sergeant Leon. The force of the wave connected like a hammer striking steel and knocked him off his feet and onto the deck. The wave subsided, and I released the ocean from my arcane grasp.

  My mind cleared, and I felt the hands of Cort and Jabnit, the orcish deckhand, grab me and pull me up onto the deck.

  Several of the crew, relieved to see I had not fallen to my death, got a good laugh out of the sucker punch I landed on the burly Master-at-arms. Captain Azpa and Lieutenant Bitar glared at me.

  “Master Alsahar, my quarters,” the captain bellowed. “NOW!” He clenched his fist, his lips curled into a sneer as he pivoted on his heel and stormed through the door to the officers’ mess.

  Lieutenant Bitar smirked, “Congratulations, kid. That was an epic level fuck up.”

  Leaned against the mast, Sergeant Reno Leon held his swelling jaw and laughed deep and loud.