The Keeper's Codex: Ashen Memories

by A. D. Wills

  “That's it, open up you bastard!” Goga cried out, and flew into the Dragon's mouth before the flame came out—impaling the roof of the dragon's mouth so deep it widened its sharp yellow eyes in anguish.

  Goga yanked on the reins, making a sharp turn right around to flee, when the Dragon's forked tongue shot out from behind like a whip—coiling all around Goga to restrain him.

  “You son of a bitch, let him go!” Climor grabbed his spear to go in after Goga, but a couple riders held him back once they saw the glow in the back of the Dragon's throat.

  Climor flailed around, and watched Goga held in place—looking up at them with what he could have sworn was a fond smile, not one of panic and fear in his last moments before the Dragon melted him with another breath that silenced the air. Their hopes all but erased.

  Skala didn't care about falling off the back of the beast any longer. She climbed along as fast as she could—spear in hand—and tried to plunge it into the beast's head, but with ease, the Dragon reached its claws over to her and snapped the spear like a toothpick. Refusing to relent, Skala whistled for her roc, and leaped off the dragon onto it, regrouping just above its head. While the others stared in petrifying horror, Skala was whipped into a blind rage. She uncoiled the heavy, thick chain from her back, and threw it right at the Dragon's neck, wrapping tightly around it.

  “If I can't pierce you, then I'll choke the life right out of you!” Skala screamed down at the beast, yanking the chain, and flying away on her roc to tighten its vice-like hold in grinding links together against its throat.

  The others snapped out of it, and went to follow Skala's lead—swooping back down to attack with the Dragon restrained.

  Dragon snapped the chain off its neck without much effort, and pulled Skala in—swinging her around like a toy. Once Dragon let go, Skala was sent flying out of sight from everyone. Without any grand fight, or exit. That was it, Skala was gone. The only one holding any of them together right now, gone.

  “Skala!” Climor shouted with wide eyes. He couldn't even tell which direction she went in she was thrown so fast.

  “Insects...you are all nothing compared to us. Nothing but ants for us to step on if we so please. You must realize this.” The Dragon shockingly spoke with a deep ethereal voice.

  “That...that thing can speak?” Climor's face twitched in angered confusion.

  “So primitive, so naive...so exhaustively foolish,” the Dragon continued. “Let this be your first and final warning to stay away from our home. We Elder Dragons have had enough of your meddling with our kind.”

  “Meddling...your kind...what do you think you've been doing to us all this time!?” Climor screamed back, his eyes welled up in a fury.

  The Elder dragon ignored Climor's pleas, and in one thundering snap of his wings, he shot up into the skies and flew away without saying another word. After all that, they hovered there, having accomplished nothing at all.

  ◆◆◆

  Utterly defeated and dejected, Climor and the others returned home without anything to show for themselves. They didn't even have answers for those emerging from the great hall. All they could do was wait, and count down the survivors until realizing their loved ones wouldn't be coming home.

  Not long after everyone emerged from the great hall, Eszu, Ralak, and the others flew in, returning from their hunt. Upon emerging through the clouds, Eszu snapped the reins to hasten their return. It didn't take his sharp eyes to see everyone huddling in mourning, and the corroded snow off to the side.

  Eszu and the others swooped in, rushing off their rocs riddled with distraught, and confusion—yet they all knew what had to have happened here. They've been all too accustomed to this sight, but in their short time of peace recently, their emotional guards had been let down.

  “Everyone...” Eszu clenched his fists tight, feeling the sorrow of everyone around him sink into himself, thinking of every one of his people as family. He couldn't think of anything else to say to them, knowing he could have very well done something to defend the home he swore he would always protect, if only he was there. “How did this happen?”

  Climor stepped up to recount the happenings, his face long, and eyes emptied out. “Not long after you all departed, a dragon attacked us, almost as though they were waiting for you to leave...” Climor speculated. It had been bothering him ever since they returned at how perfectly timed this attack was, right when they were most vulnerable. “This one was different though...”

  “How so?” Eszu's eyes focused in.

  “It spoke, Eszu,” Climor said, as if he were fearful just mentioning it. “We couldn't believe it either, but it talked to us clear as day, just taunting us and playing with us while we tried to fend it off. He could've killed us all in an instant, he said, and I believe it.”

  “Did he say anything else?” Eszu asked.

  “He warned us to stay away from their home, that this would be our final warning."

  Eszu's heart plummeted down into his stomach. He hadn't told anyone yet other than Ralak, and he made sure every single time he went, he was undetected. There shouldn't have been any way the Dragons would know about his plans.

  While Climor explained, Ralak looked around for Skala, but he couldn't see her anywhere. “Where's Skala?” Ralak asked with a sinking feeling in his heart.

  No one answered, and they all hung their heads low.

  “Where is my sister?” Ralak slowed his stern voice that shook at the utterance of that last word. He knew what the answer was. But he hung onto the shred of hope he was wrong. He had to.

  “I'm sorry Ralak,” Climor began with a hanging head. “She led the Dragon away from everyone here, and led us in the fight against it. She fought valiantly, never giving up for even a second against that monster. I'd bet my life that she could've taken out just about any other dragon we've come across on her own, but I've never seen a Dragon like this before though. Sure it spoke, but it was stronger and bigger than any we've ever seen. Even someone as strong as Skala couldn't do anything against him.”

  “Tell me what happened to my sister—tell me why she's not here with us!” Ralak let his emotions pour over.

  “She fell, Ralak,” was all Climor said. He, nor anyone else, could take seeing Ralak like this, but no one blamed him either. If they could, they would take all the suffering he wishes to take out on them.

  “We can search for her though, can't we? She should be somewhere nearby then...” Ralak fished for someone to agree, and act as if they hadn't thought of that before.

  “I'm so sorry Ralak. She was flown far out of our sight...” Climor refrained from outright saying there was no way she could have survived, or even be located if she did. He could just hope Ralak accepted so as to avoid this being any harder than it is.

  Ralak stood there silent with twitching eyes, as tears welled up picturing everything Climor recounted. He knew it was over. He felt it—that tugging sinking feeling that's telling the deepest part of him that the only real family he ever had was gone. Just like that, without being able to say goodbye—without ever being able to do anything about it, Skala was gone.

  “She fought like a true Dracus—a hero that saved many lives today,” Climor added. “We all owe our lives to what she did for us.”

  Ralak was furious, sad and broken all at once. All he could do was slowly nod to Climor's words, choking down a lump in his throat that refused to go down as everything pent up within him flowed out. Tears, sadness, and memories of his sister. He let it all go. He let it run all over in hopes it might numb him, if only for a little while.

  Eszu couldn't take seeing his friend like this, utterly broken for the first time since he'd known Ralak. “Her memory will live on with each of us, as the true warrior she was. Her death was not in vain. She died protecting each and every one of you as a true Dracus would. And I damn well promise to avenge hers and every last one of those lost today. You all deserve that much. I swear, I'm going to kill every last one of these Drago
ns. I swear it.”

  There would be no feast tonight, and instead, Eszu went through every last one of the Dracus mourning the loss of their loved ones, and their homes. No matter how much they wanted to cry on Eszu's shoulder, or vent about taking revenge on the Dragons, Eszu took the time with every one of them, as long as they needed. It was the only thing he could do for them right now.

  While they couldn't give the fallen a proper burial, Eszu walked around to give burial markers, etching their names into the cold rock-face with all the others that came before them. He wouldn't let their memory go forgotten, adding them to their harrowing reminder of why they fight.

  Even Ralak helped make one for Skala, slowly writing her name in with shaky hands, but they weren't weak. He gripped that etching rock with every last bit of his boiling rage. “You took my parents, and now my sister. I'm going to make sure I take everything from you. It's time we bring your home to ruins.”

  Everyone gathered after a long night that nearly turned to morning now at this point. But while they all slept, Eszu racked his brain throughout the night as to how he might secure the aid of the Etai, and Humans.

  “We need them now more than ever...” Eszu grumbled to himself in doubt, thinking of the Dragon's warning Climor relayed.

  Chapter 11: The King's Tournament III

  “Shame we've got to fight so soon,” Thungar said, rolling his heavy gauntlets with studded spikes, as he took his place across from Aldriss in the arena.

  “Least this way, you'll be able to go back home early enough, and enjoy that farm,” Aldriss shot back some friendly banter, firing up a smirk while running his fingers along his three sheathed swords in deciding which to choose.

  “'I don't think so. I want to even up the score between us since the last time...” Thungar pounded his two hulking fists together.

  “Even up? Don't be making up stories now. Way I remember it, I'm way ahead of you, tied with Jonatan and behind Griselda. You've got some ground to make up, friend,” Aldriss grinned, and turned his sights to Lorin. “We getting this started or what, errand boy?”

  Lorin fumbled around, tossing the ledger up, and frantically caught it before it fell into the arena. “Y-yes, begin!” Lorin then raised his hand up, and shot it down.

  The bout began, but Aldriss still indecisively grazed over the hilts of each of his blades, while Thungar stared back at Aldriss, as though he expected this. Finally, Aldriss' finger stopped on one of them.

  “Decide?” Thungar asked.

  “Never know which one's gonna be ready, after all.” Aldriss unsheathed a black blade with a contrasting white hilt, joining Thungar in charging head-on at each other.

  The crowd waited with bated breath. None of them blinked, and widened their eyes, peering down at the action with undivided attention.

  They watched Aldriss sweep up his black blade from his side, and Thungar swung his encased fists up to try catching Aldriss before he could strike. Aldriss adjusted, and shifted his blade over enough to halt Thungar's fist. The impact between the two canceling forces sent shock-waves throughout the arena, blowing up chunks of the grassy field.

  Thungar persisted, swinging down at Aldriss with his free fist, but one of the blades shot out from its sheath without Aldriss touching it—landing a powerful blow to Thungar's granite-like chin, flinging his head back.

  Aldriss saw his opening in a dazed Thungar, but the second he took a step forward, Thungar smashed both his fists down on the ground, violently quaking Aldriss legs to throw off balance. Aldriss was nearly thrown into the air, with a chunk of the ground shooting up—dismantling and reshaping the middle of the arena with a mere couple of blows. Aldriss shoved his sword down into the ground as an anchor, and waited. For now, he didn't have a choice. He's seen Thungar bring down an entire keep before on his own, let alone ripping through a confined arena.

  Once the arena settled, Aldriss noticed Thungar dropped his defenses, and stood in a crouched powerful stance. His veins pulsing all over his neck, forehead, and arms as if they were about to pop, and his face turned beet-red with his eyes turning completely white.

  “Haven't seen you try that out in a while. Guess you want to get this over with, eh?” Aldriss pulled his sword out from the ground, watching Thungar's body swell up even larger.

  “Told you...I'm evening the score,” Thungar grimaced, and launched himself at Aldriss, as if his thick legs were giant thick springs.

  Thungar threw his fist again, but this time, it landed and hurled Aldriss into the arena wall behind him—shooting out a heavy plume of rubble and dust. There was no way anyone could survive that, but once the dust settled through the gasping crowd, Aldriss emerged unscathed.

  “You're a little rusty, friend,” Aldriss remarked, and met Thungar back in the middle.

  Both of them engaged, exchanging in shattering blows that invigorated the crowd to heights of hype, and elation they hadn't felt before. The two Starborn almost didn't even seem human with the intensity they were fighting at. But of the two, it was Thungar who appeared to be slowing down and tiring, if only a little.

  “That's your problem, you've always got to end things quickly when you go and awaken like that,” Aldriss smirked, continuing to dodge Thungar's efforts.

  Thungar threw a huge looping shot, but Aldriss easily spotted the now labored motion, ducked underneath, and landed a clean shot to Thungar's gut—rattling through his ironclad armor, sending him stumbling back, and lurching over. Aldriss went to follow up, but Thungar grabbed hold of Aldriss' wrists, as though he had been trying to rope him in.

  Thungar pulled Aldriss in, and threw down a bone shattering headbutt, but again, was met with another blade shooting out of its sheath to protect Aldriss. This time though, it didn't push Thungar back at all. He stood his ground, grinding his feet into the dirt whilst holding onto Aldriss with a determined vice-like grip.

  Aldriss wouldn't let go of his blade though, no matter how strong Thungar's crushing grip was, and the blade began to pulse, as though waves of heat were surrounding it, but it didn't feel any hotter near Thungar's face.

  Thungar threw up a knee, but in that split moment before it could land, Aldriss broke free with ease in a sudden overwhelming display of force. Thungar tried to push away, but Aldriss swung his blade down to the sound of a high whistle, and shattered Thungar's right pauldron in one blow.

  “Seeing it for myself is better than I ever could have imagined,” Calaera gazed down with attentive eyes. “I've read all about their battles, but I still can't believe how they can fight like this.”

  “Both Aldriss and Thungar are exceptionally strong,” Dreymond was as calm as can be, no doubt impressed with the fight, but had seen it before, and it wasn't much his cup of tea anyway. “As you know, each of our spirits manifest differently within us, they—and all the Starborn are unique cases. Whether it be in subtle means like you or I, and most, or in the rare bountiful cases, like Aldriss and Thungar, everyone has an inner aura of life. Without it, they wouldn't be able to do any of what they're doing down there, let alone to wield those weapons made by the Tarlis clan. There are ways to hone one's own strength, but theirs will always be unmatched.” Dreymond explained, ending in a bit of an oddly cold demeanor.

  “All the Tarlis clan are gone now though, right?” Calaera remembered back to her readings, that mentioned the Tarlis clan, and their renowned weapon forging—second to none in all of Gamriss.

  Dreymond would have liked to avoid this, but there wasn't anywhere to escape to this time. “They're not all gone, but their weapons are nearly impossible to find, and even more rare, is finding a Tarlis who isn't an impostor. Those weapons though, they're far too dangerous for the likes of you or I to try and wield, and most who do try, find themselves overwhelmed and overcome. It's as though the few like Aldriss and Thungar can beat those weapons into submission with their own will, and use them as they please. Otherwise it's the other way around.”

  “I'd love to read more about it mysel
f, though there suspiciously seems to be very little in the way of information about any of this—the Tarlis, how our spirits manifest, even the Starborn...”

  “Well, you see Calaera...” Dreymond fumbled over his words. “Unfortunately, most writings about such things are scarce, and hard to come by. I wouldn't know where to find them, other than perhaps Faella,” Dreymond fished for what he thought to be a sufficient excuse.

  “Oh I'm sure they're not so scarce within the archives, if only you would let me in.”

  “It's nothing but boring clutter in there anyway, believe me,” Dreymond waved off without giving it any second thought.

  No matter how many times Calaera asked about the archives, Dreymond would say the same thing—downplaying every aspect of it. But she knew there was something more to it. She had seen her father spend hours in there at a time when she was very young. Shyn wasn't very much help either, repeating everything Dreymond would say, denying knowing anything about it.

  “Why don't we just enjoy the fight for now,” Dreymond suggested in desperation to get off this topic.

  Calaera conceded upon hearing Aldriss and Thungar still at it, clashing in the arena grounds.

  “Going to try and close this out?” Aldriss' eyes widened with a fierce smile, when he saw Thungar smash his fists together across from him.

  As Thungar stretched his fists up at their peak, Aldriss tapped on a different sword, and a rusted old blade shot out. Aldriss launched himself in one easy vault ahead to stop Thungar's final effort, soaring through the air toward him.

  Aldriss clasped his sword tightly with both hands, and it transformed into a hulking two-handed sword. Before Thungar could do anything to defend himself, Aldriss smacked Thungar with the broadside of the blade, sending him into the far arena wall.

  The crowd was awestruck. Those who saw it couldn't believe their eyes. Those who blinked and missed it, pined for information that quickly spread throughout the arena seating.