by RG Long
“Is it just me or are we going down?” Silverwolf asked.
Blume didn’t think it was just her. The path did have a very slight decline to it that became more and more prominent as they went on. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but perhaps was only one, their lights did not only extend into darkness. Materializing before them out of the gloom was a wall. The lines of runes from the walls stopped before they reached the end of the tunnel, some further back, some nearly touching the end of the path.
“Well that was anticlimactic,” Silverwolf said again.
“Shush,” Wisym said, not bothering to hide her scowl.
Amrolan ran his hand along the wall for a time. He seemed to be searching for something on the smooth stone that blocked their path. Blume couldn’t get a good look at it, but there seemed to be something in the middle of the wall that he was blocking with his body.
“What is it?” Ealrin asked.
For a moment, Amrolan didn’t answer, but instead looked at the pendant, then back to the wall, then the pendant again.
“We need a Speaker,” he said.
And with that, all eyes turned to Blume.
She swallowed hard.
“You know I can’t...” she began, but Ealrin cut her off.
“Just try it. Maybe something will happen.”
She stiffened as she walked forward, but was determined not to look scared or anxious in front of everyone. They sidled aside so that she could get right next to the wall and Amrolan. At last, she could see the wall fully and what Amrolan had been touching with his hands.
The wall was not plain, as she had thought, but rather it was outlined with thin runes. Thinner than the ones that ran along the wall. In the middle of the door, there was a piece of Rimstone placed into a metallic holder. The Rimstone was blue and pear shaped. A small line of metal connected it to the door, allowing most of it to be seen. Runes protruded out from the piece on the wall. Blume would have liked to have been able to read them, to know what they meant.
Amrolan spoke.
“I think the pendant is saying that you should be able to push the door forward, allowing us passage.”
Blume nodded, not wanting to betray her misgivings or anxieties. If getting to the tree depended on her being able to use magic, to control it and conjure up the power that had died away, their quest might be at an end.
She let out a long deep breath as she put her hand on the Rimstone. It glowed warmly, perhaps glad of the touch after being dormant for so long. Blume could feel the power pulsating through the stone. She could imagine herself pushing the door by Speaking to it. She stood like that for several long moments, both getting used to the blue stone and seeing how the magic reacted to her touch.
Then she pushed. With all of her might she tried to Speak the wall into motion. With her mind, she pushed and pushed until sweat pour down her face and arms.
“Need a break?” Wisym asked sweetly from behind her. “We don’t mind waiting.”
The encouragement to stop made Blume want to succeed in the task even more. She put her whole mind to the task, summoning up every ounce of control she had once possessed and used it to force the door in front of her to move.
Sweat poured down her face and her head began to swim as she struggled to concentrate. With one last effort, she pushed on the Rimstone, which glowed brightly for a moment, and then went out. She fell to her knees, gasping for air. She felt like she had just run a mile at a full sprint. Deep, ragged breaths came and went as she struggled to regain herself. Someone was putting a water pouch in front of her, which she took and greedily drank from. Speaking always exhausted the Speaker. Food, water, and rest were the only cure. She had once been told that she put too much effort into her magic, that it drained her too quickly. She didn’t care. All she wanted to do was to have her magic back and to be able to use the gift she had grown for years.
But it wasn’t back. She couldn’t use it. Blume fought back a tear as she tried to return to her feet, trembling. Everyone’s eyes were on her but, ashamed, she didn’t want to meet their gazes. If they couldn’t get through the door now, it was all her fault.
She was, after all, the only Speaker among them.
Both Ealrin and Holve were crouching down at her side. Ealrin looked concerned. Holve had an unreadable expression.
“Maybe you can try again in a little while?” Ealrin asked, Blume knew, trying to sound hopeful. She was grateful that he hadn’t given up on her. But she was also realistic. She knew it would take a while for her to be able to try again, and she would still more than likely get the same results.
She shook her head.
“I can’t,” she said, the words stabbing her like a dagger. “I just can’t. My magic is just gone.”
Tears betrayed her desire to keep cool and controlled. Two or three slipped out before she could wipe them away, frustrated with her lack of magic and her inability to keep calm.
Holve sighed.
That sound hurt Blume more than she could put into words. Was the old man giving up on her, too? He had, at least to this point, seemed to think that Blume would regain her gift one day. Was he beginning to believe, like she was, that it wasn’t something that would come back?
Holve took his spear in his left hand and held out his right to the door. Blume, who had sunk to the ground right by the door, could see his every movement. With small, intentional movements, Holve pushed his hand forward until his fingers touched the Rimstone on the door. His lips were moving slightly, but no audible words came out. A soft blue light emanated from the Rimstone and, to Blume’s astonishment, the door actually began to move. It slid sideways, away from Blume, and retracted into the wall.
Holve let his hand fall and took a deep breath, like he had just taken a jog and was now resting a moment.
He looked down at Blume, and then to the rest of the group. Finally, he stepped out of the way and let Amrolan lead them once again. Not a word was spoken as they filed past. Some looked at Blume, others at Holve.
Ealrin remained crouched down by Blume.
“Did you see that?” he asked her, looking up at Holve’s back. The man had just started walking at the back of the group, leaving the two of them in Ealrin’s torchlight.
“I did,” she replied. The thought crashed down around her in an unexplainable truth.
Holve was a Speaker.
25: A Guardian’s Request
“You can use magic?” Ealrin asked Holve, incredulously.
Holve shrugged.
“A little,” he admitted, before taking a step through the hole made by the door he had just moved. With magic.
Ealrin was stunned. He knew Holve was a skilled fighter and had, at times, displayed powerful abilities. But, somehow, he had always thought it was something to do with his spear, or something else.
But Holve? A Speaker?
This was something he would have to spend time asking the old man about. Until a blast of hot air distracted him from all other thoughts.
“What in the world was that?” he asked. Looking around the corridor, he could see that the same question was on everyone’s mind. Ahead of them was about twenty more steps of the same kind of corridor: floor to ceiling stone tiles. Then, from what he could see, the hallway ended and became a cave. A single shaft of light pierced the darkness from up above, coming from a hole they could not yet see.
“Forward?” Holve asked.
Amrolan was the first to begin walking down the path. Holve went with him and the rest followed.
“Bah,” Gorplin said from the back of the group. “This is mad.”
Ealrin didn’t feel like disagreeing with the dwarf. In fact, he wasn’t sure he was wrong. The company walked down the path until they came to the cave beyond. Ealrin let out a gasp. Sprawling out before him was the most enormous cavern he had ever imagined. It was as if someone had hollowed out the mountain they had seen outside. Stalactites the size of towers hung from the ceiling, while stalagmites as tall a
s the ancient trees of Irradan rose from the cavern floor. A single crack in the cave wall several hundred feet above them illuminated most of the details that they could see, though some places remained in shadow.
“What is this place?” he asked out loud, his voice echoing throughout the chamber, unnaturally loud. The question repeated over and over, his own voice reverberating off of wall and stone.
“This is the sacred dwelling of Irrashmina,” came a booming response that shook the mountain. Bits of rock fell around them as the voice filled Ealrin’s ears to the point of bursting. He covered one ear with his hands, dropping the Rimstone torch he had been carrying. “And you will never leave this place alive!”
Ealrin directed his gaze at, not the source of the noise for that was impossible to tell, but the movement he had seen in the pool of light. Dust, bits of rock, and larger stones were trembling as something enormous was coming to life from underneath them. Then he saw them, Great bat-like wings, enormous and silver, sprang from the ground, throwing rubble and earth in all directions. The party turned to keep dust from their eyes. Berndt had actually run back through the passage in the direction of the waterfall, but cursed as he slammed into something solid.
Ealrin heard two distinct words in his swear laden rant.
“Door closed!”
Panto was roaring at the movement of rock and debris. Amrolan was at the bear’s side, stroking it and speaking to it as he held its massive neck. At last, the thing that was rising up out of the earth came into full view. Ealrin had not seen one this close before. He had watched one at a distance destroy an entire army. He had heard Gorplin tell of how one went toe to toe with a giant demon on Ruyn.
But that did not prepare him for the massive, silver, and terrifying dragon that arose from the cavern floor. The eyes of dragon appeared white, as if they burned with some unnatural flame. It bellowed and hot, sticky air filled the cave as more sediment fell from above them. A huge rock crashed into the floor just feet away from Blume. She screamed and ran for cover in the passage. Ealrin stepped in front of her.
“What mortal dares to enter this sacred dwelling and challenge the might of Irrashmina?” the dragon’s voice boomed out as its head darted this way and that. Ealrin thought it was scanning the area for intruders. Soon it would see them. After that, he had no idea.
“Irrashmina,” Amrolan called out in a loud and commanding voice. Ealrin was impressed. He wasn’t sure he had the courage to speak, much less shout at the intimidating sight. “I am Amrolan of the Wood Walker elves. We protect the forest and its inhabitants from harm. I do not enter your sanctuary recklessly.”
The dragon roared again and flapped its wings. Dust flew everywhere and they all covered their eyes with the hands and arms. Ealrin spread his jacket out to protect Blume from as much of the debris as he could.
“Carelessly would be a better description!” the dragon roared. “It is folly to oppose the guardian!”
“And what is it that you guard?” Amrolan asked, taking a step forward and looking up at the dragon.
“Fool!” the dragon roared. “You would not have come so far if you did not know!”
Irrashmina kept glancing this way and that, as if it couldn’t see the elf. Ealrin thought that was odd as they were all standing directly in front of it. Then it hit him.
He carefully scanned the eyes of the dragon. What he had mistaken for white eyes were actually the signs of immense age. The dragon's eyes were not burning with a white flame as he had thought. They were milky and gray. Unseeing.
The dragon was blind.
He didn’t have much time to consider this new revelation. The dragon filled its lungs with a huge intake of breath.
“Scatter!” Holve commanded. The group obeyed.
Wisym, Silverwolf, and Elen dove left. Gorplin, Brendt, and Holve went right. Panto and Amrolan ran forward while Ealrin grabbed Blume and followed them. A burst of dragon fire rained down on the cavern floor. The temperature in the cavern rose to sweltering in the span of a breath. Rock and stone became red embers as the flames licked them. A giant stalagmite fell from the roof, blocking off their escape through the tunnel behind them.
The group was shouting out to one another, which added to the noise of the chamber and seemed to enrage the dragon.
“There are more than just you, Amrolan of the Wood Walkers!” it bellowed. “And none shall leave this room alive!”
Another great rasping sound filled the cave. Ealrin knew the dragon was readying another blast of fire. There were only so many places to hide. If the dragon kept this up much longer, they would either be burned to death, crushed by rock, or simply unable to bear the rising temperature of the cave.
Then, among all the other noises of the cave, came another shrill, piercing cry. It was from outside, but getting closer.
Blume was underneath Ealrin. He had used his body to shield her from any debris that was knocked loose from the ceiling. Panto and Amrolan were just a step away from them.
“What is that?” she yelled over the noise.
Her answer came before Ealrin could even give it a thought. A flash of red came hurtling through the crack in the wall and flew around the cavern once, twice, and then landed in the middle. It rose and shot out its wings and gave up a roar of its own.
Another dragon.
Three shapes jumped from its back to the ground. One with catlike grace, one with a lame thump.
“Sweet earth and ground!” a familiar voice said.
“Mother!” the booming voice of the red dragon said. “I’ve returned to you!”
IT TOOK SEVERAL MOMENTS for the realization of what was happening to sink in. Even the great silver dragon paused in awe at the sound of the voice.
“Could this be so?” it asked. “Can the joy of my spawn have returned to me out of imprisonment?”
The red dragon roared again, but this time it did not sound menacing. Ealrin wondered at the noise. Was it possible for such a bestial shout to be joyful?
“These three helped me escape those cursed pirates,” the red dragon said, moving so that the three shapes on the ground were now in front of it and in full view of the room at large. There could be no mistaking it.
No other creatures on Irradan were so wonderful for Ealrin to behold than a Skrilx, a halfling, and a human captain.
“Felicia! Jurrin! Urt!” he shouted out, rising to his knees.
The three turned to look at him. So did the red dragon.
“Mother!” it shouted. “There are strangers here. Have they come for our treasure?”
The old dragon roared.
“They will not leave alive!”
“Oh, yes they bloody well will!” Felicia shouted. “These are our crew and friends!”
Swirling about, being much smaller than the old and enormous silver dragon, the red creature paced about the room, looking with eyes that pierced each member of the group with a dark gaze.
“Friends?” it asked. “Felicia Stormchaser, if these are your friends and they have come to steal our treasure, then we are in a quandary.”
“They ain’t thieves, Nerash, girl,” Felicia replied. “You’ve got to listen to us.”
Nerash snorted. She, as Blume assumed she was if Felicia called her so, gave them a weary look.
“Let us speak,” Amrolan said, stepping forward again. “We do not come seeking gold or jewels.”
Nerash moved until she was right in front of Amrolan. Panto growled at the dragon, as if to challenge it. Ealrin was impressed with the bear’s courage. The elf stood tall as well, though he felt like he would have wavered under such a glare.
“Our treasure is no such trinket,” the red dragon replied. “It’s worth far exceeds any metal or gem. That is why my egg bearer and I have guarded it for a millennium. Protecting it from those who would use this treasure for ill. We were tasked with this in an age long gone and have never failed in our duty.”
Amrolan breathed in and then out, not breaking his eye c
ontact with the dragon.
“You speak of the Everring Tree.”
A long, low growl came from Nerash’s mouth. Smoke escaped through its massive teeth.
“A source of power far beyond the reckoning of mortals,” she replied.
Ealrin’s heart leapt in his throat. It was here. The tree was here! And the dragons were guarding it. He looked from left to right, nearly expecting to see the tree growing out of the ground and rising majestically out from the cavern floor. But his quick glance around the cave revealed nothing to him.
Holve was stepping forward.
“We do not wish to use the power of the tree for ill,” he said.
“Such would any thief say,” the old dragon replied.
Felicia stepped up to the red dragon and put a hand on its head, behind the deadly looking horns.
“This is Holve Bravestead,” she said. “My friend and guide. Please. Listen to his words.”
Nerash snorted.
Ealrin supposed that was as good as it might get. Holve must have agreed because he took a deep breath and began to explain their journey.
“Our own land, Ruyn, was overcome with war. As the fighting grew, so did the appearance of demons beyond our worst nightmares. They came hurtling down from the Dark Comet which fills the night sky. We were besieged on all sides, but were finally able to drive the demons back to their prison on the Comet. Ever since we have searched out the tree, trying to find answers.”
He looked back at Ealrin and Blume, then returned his gaze to the dragon.
“We also have brought with us a pendant as old as the tree. Its power vanished with the demons. But, in order to fight them, we will need to restore its magic, along with the gift of its user. I believe the tree can do this.”
The group took a collective breath. The dragon blinked.
“We do not seek the power of the tree for our own gain or for domination. We seek its blessing so that we may drive back what has yet to show its full power. We also request that the elves of the Woods, who have nothing but respect for all living things, come to dwell on your island to help you in your task of protecting and caring for the tree. Their own homeland has become a wasteland because of those who would rather raze the earth than allow it to grow.”
