by RG Long
Silence hung in the air for a long time as both dragons remained motionless: the only sign of their not having turned to statues was the constant stream of smoke from both of their nostrils. Then the silver dragon spoke.
“The demons have come,” it said. “I have felt their presence. If you have any hope of driving them back, then the tree’s blessing will be a boon to you.”
Ealrin took a deep breath of relief.
“In return for saving my Nerash from the pirates, I will consider sharing this island with the elves. But, before I grant you this,” it said. “You must swear to me repayment.”
He looked at Holve, who stood proudly next to Amrolan and Panto.
“In what way could we possibly repay the guardian of the tree?” he asked.
The old dragon’s mouth opened and a red flare came from it. Smoke surrounded its head and rose to the crack in the cavern.
“Vengeance on the ones who stole Nerashi from me, the egg bearer of Irradan, Kelseth. The pirate elves of Blood Spire must pay for their crime.”
Ealrin nearly laughed at the idea of them being able to take vengeance on anyone at the moment. They were a group of less than twenty with borrowed time from the other rival pirate gang. If they didn’t return with a homeland for the Wood Walkers, they were going to be dealing with unhappy pirates and more unhappy dwarves.
How in the world could they take on Blood Spire with Enoth at their heels already?
“You have our word,” Holve said. “It will be done.”
Ealrin sighed. He hoped the old man was still as masterful of a strategist as he had always been. This time, he didn’t see an easy way out.
26: The Everring Tree
Blume knew she had to be dreaming. Two dragons were talking in front of her. Not only that, but they said that they had protected the Everring Tree for a thousand years. And now Holve was promising to do something for the dragons in return for the chance to use the tree to get her gift back.
Surely, she had hit her head somewhere in all of the commotion.
But time went on and she didn’t feel dizzy or any bump under her hair. She didn’t remember it, but she had stood up at some point and was now beside Ealrin as the dragon nodded at Holve. Who had, only moments ago, used magic to open a door.
The day couldn’t get any stranger.
“Who is the one with the gift?” Kelseth, the old dragon asked. “And what is this artifact you speak of?”
As one, the group turned to look at Blume. She instinctively grabbed her necklace. The wand Jurgon had given her was in her other hand. Painfully, she remembered why he wasn’t here to hold it himself.
“Miss Blume!” Jurrin said as he ran over to her. “I’m awfully glad to see you! It’s been a long time! Strange lands we’ve been exploring. I just rode a dragon!”
“Shh,” Holve said as he motioned for Blume to step forward. Slowly, she obeyed.
“Hey,” Jurrin said, looking around the group. “Where’s...”
“Not now,” Holve said, cutting the halfling off before he could finish his question.
Blume suppressed a tear. The poor halfling was going to be ruined when he heard. But she couldn’t think of that right now. She had to look into the eyes of a dragon.
The smaller, red dragon was approaching her, smoke coming from its nostrils.
“Can this one be trusted, Jurrin?” she asked.
“Miss Blume?” he answered. “Oh yes! She’s a whiz at magic! Or, she used to be. My friend...”
He stopped with a look from Holve.
Blume stood, as brave as she could muster with a dragon twice as tall as she was pacing around her. It huffed once and took a sniff of her.
“You smell different,” the beast said. “Not like others I’ve smelled before.”
Blume cleared her throat.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she said. She knew it had been a while since she had bathed, but that was true for everyone. The dwarves smelled at least twice as badly as she must have.
“Bring forth the artifact,” the older dragon said.
Reluctantly, Blume unclasped the necklace and held it out, the chain dangling from the Rimstone piece in its claw. The red Rimstone wand in her left hand was so delicate and intricate. The magic stone perfectly round. Its golden holder was decorated with tiny dwarven runes. A gift from a king.
It was a stark contrast to the simple necklace held out for two dragons. Blume’s necklace was plain and rough. The claw that held the green Rimstone was not dainty. If anything, it looked hard and ancient. Its rock was misshapen with discolored spots and even what appeared to be plain rock sticking out at places.
And yet the red dragon gave no attention to the wand. After one look and a sniff at Blume’s necklace, she jerked her head back, her eyes wide with wonder.
“This...” she began to say. “This necklace is a forerunner. A first Rimstone.”
Blume didn’t know what Nerashi meant by “forerunner” or “first Rimstone” but she assumed it meant that her necklace was special. That she already knew. It had been sought after by power hungry generals and dictators. It was even listed in the book. But to impress a dragon, Blume thought, was pretty special.
“And that is why we need the tree,” Holve said.
Nerashi sniffed once more, then nodded her head.
“Follow me.”
THE COMPANY WALKED after the dragon through the cavern, walking around stones and rock formations. Blue Rimstone torchlight was their only light the further they went in. Light from the crack in the mountainside disappeared after a few twists and turns. Blume was amazed at how quickly the beast could maneuver in the tight corners and passages they took. She, on the other hand, felt like she was slowing everyone up by tripping and stumbling over the uneven ground. She nearly fell once, but Ealrin caught her and put her back on her feet.
“You ok?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure. All of the feelings she had suppressed when a real live dragon appeared in front of them were bubbling back up. She was nervous, excited, anxious, scared, and unsure all at the same time.
“Yeah,” she replied. The real answer would take more words than she could make at the moment. “You think Panto and Amrolan were right to stay behind with that dragon?”
She asked the question to avoid her own thoughts.
“I think that elf and his bear can handle just about anything,” Ealrin replied with a smile.
Finally, the dragon disappeared behind a sharp turn. Blume peeked around the corner and saw an opening in a cavern wall. It was merely a crack in the stone, just large enough for the dragon to squeeze through. Blume hesitated. A light was coming through the room, just enough for Blume to be able to see without the use of Ealrin’s torch.
Fear and excitement were building within her. She wasn’t sure which would win out in the end.
Ealrin put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Blume was suddenly aware of the entire group standing in the hall behind her. Some looked curious, others annoyed. She took a deep breath and then turned to enter through the crack in the wall.
The dragon was lying down, curled up in the back of the room. Another hole in the top of the room’s ceiling let in a shaft of light. Blume looked all around, confused. The rest of the group was filing in behind her into the increasing cramped space.
“I thought we were going to see the tree,” Blume said, looking around at the stone walls and cave markings.
“It’s there,” Ealrin said, pointing with his finger.
Blume looked at the spot he indicated, where the shaft of light met the cavern floor, just where Nerashi had curled up.
And there it was.
Resting under the gentle light that poured in from the crack in the ceiling was a plant, no taller than Blume’s waist. Its base was wide; Blume was sure she couldn’t reach her hands around it. From the brown trunk grew three or four short branches with wide green leaves. It looked like an average, short tree. The only thing that set it apart
from a normal plant was the droplets of light that fell off its leaves. Like dew in the morning, but each was a shining point of light.
“Bah,” Gorplin said at the back of the room. “I thought it’d be bigger.”
The dragon let out a snort.
“Often,” she said quietly, as if the place they now stood was a sacred space, which explained the way Blume felt. “The most powerful things are not what we expect. Bigger does not always mean stronger.”
As Nerashi spoke, Blume’s breathing began to grow faster. She couldn’t take her eyes off the tree. This was what they had searched for. This is what people had died for. So that she could see this tree. And here it was.
Ealrin’s hand was on her shoulder. For the second time in a short span, he asked her the same question.
“You ok?”
“I’m terrified.”
This time, she figured the truth was better than a lie.
“Speaker,” Nerashi said. There was a time where the silence was broken only by the rhythmic breathing of the dragon.
It took a moment, but then Blume realized the dragon was talking to her. “Present your pendant to the tree.”
She nodded before she had fully taken in what was being asked of her. She didn’t know how or what she was supposed to do, but guessed it involved placing her necklace close to the tree. Taking another step forward, she knelt down in front of the tree. Her hands were shaking, her breath was coming quickly, and hundreds of possible scenarios were running through her head.
What if it didn’t work? What if it did? What would happen to her pendant? What would happen to her?
Before she could really take the time to process any of the possible answers to these questions, she extended her hands out to the tree, her necklace cradled in her two open palms. The green Rimstone began to emit a soft glow.
Slowly, one by one, the droplets of light that were falling from the tree began not to hit the ground, but instead to float slowly towards her necklace. Blume’s hands were still shaking, even as the first point of light made contact with the pendant. It emanated a flash of light, then was absorbed into the Rimstone. And then another. And another.
A steady stream of droplets of light were now coming into the pendant. With each point of light, the green stone began to glow brighter and brighter until the entire cavern was filled with a soft green light. Blume could feel the warmth of the necklace increasing. It had gone from cool to emitting a gentle heat. The warmth steadied her hands as she breathed in.
As she took that breath, the points of light strayed from their path to the necklace and began a new trajectory: straight to her. She didn’t have time to react to the first one before it had entered her mouth and she had breathed it in. It filled her with a warmth similar to that of the stone she held. With another breath, she took in three more points of light. Clarity was coming to her vision, not that anything had been blurry before. It was like as each droplet touched her tongue and the warm sensation of swallowing a mouthful of tea caused her vision to grow sharper. She was seeing something beyond what normal eyes could perceive.
And then she knew the shock wave before it hit the cavern. She felt the crash before it rent through the mountain. She screamed out and a brilliant, blinding flash of green filled the cave.
“Cannons!”
And then she fell forward onto one hand, panting as if she had just sprinted a mile, her other hand clutching the pulsating necklace.
27: Pirates
The two ships were side by side out on the open waves. Three planks connected them together, along with a few ropes. On one ship, sails the color of purple were emblazoned with nine golden stars. The other had red sails with a black raindrop. A meeting between the Enoth Empire and Blood Spire was underway on the great sea of Irradan.
Soldiers in the purple of Enoth flanked an elf dressed in all black with a mask. They stood on the deck of their ship, waiting for the others to come aboard. A group of pirates, none of whom matched any other, scrambled across the plank bridges as easily as if they were walking on green fields.
They jumped and landed in a group in front of the polished and cleanly presented Enoth soldiery. A starker contrast would have been hard to find. The Boss liked it that way. He didn’t want to worry about small details like uniforms and marching orders.
He much rather would have pirates who’d obey without question and kill whenever necessary. And every elf he brought with him to board the ship was one of his finest. He still didn’t trust Enoth or its messengers. But they still paid well.
Lord Gerald, on his right, spoke up first.
“Where’s our gold?” she demanded, dismissing with any formality or introductions. They all knew each other well enough.
The masked elf kicked at a chest, which opened to reveal a heavy load of gold. Lord Gerald smiled and nodded, apparently satisfied. She was always too satisfied with gold, the Boss thought.
He kept his eyes on the masked one. As sneaky as he had spent most of his life, he never trusted anyone who covered up their face. He preferred to read their expressions to know if they were lying or telling the truth. It was always hard to tell whether or not that was going on with him.
“Why did you summon us?” he asked. “I thought you were going to have the gold delivered by a messenger to Blood Spire. Why call us out?”
The masked elf nodded to his guards, who both moved forward. Instinctively, the Boss grabbed the sword at his side. He didn’t unsheathe it, only grab the handle and narrow his eyebrows. The guards did not come closer, they merely had taken a step closer to them and were now adjusting their spears in front of them, as if in salute.
The Boss’ pirates had likewise taken hold of their weapons, if only a few seconds after he had, but they now looked to him with eyebrows raised. He straightened back up from his attack stance as the Masked elf spoke.
“The Empire of Enoth would like to extend a special invitation to Blood Spire,” he said brightly. It was very different than his usual tone. “The entire continent of Irradan is falling to our dominion. We would like to offer Blood Spire its independence from the empire in exchange for a mutually agreeable alliance.”
An ancient looking elf came forward with a piece of parchment affixed to an ornate wooden tablet. The seal of the empire was clearly visible, as was the signature of the emperor himself. The only thing missing was two signatures underneath the writing “Blood Spire.”
The Boss stood for a moment, contemplating. Enoth was powerful enough to take any city they set their eyes on, this he knew full well. Blood Spire was a fortress of a city and as well defended as any, even Lone Peak. But the empire had enough resources to sustain a siege on them for months or even years. Blood Spire could be theirs with enough patience and military might. Both of which the empire had in full measure.
There was a catch somewhere.
“What would this allegiance look like?” he asked, taking his hand off of his sword handle.
A glimmer shone through the eye hole of the mask.
“Irradan is but one continent on a world of many,” he replied. “There are more lands to explore and, if the emperor continues to be our guiding light, conquer.”
The Boss’ mind was a whir of gears clicking into place. He was beginning to see the picture painted before him.
“And you still need someone to do you dirty work before you sail up to these lands with your stars flying on your purple flags, hmm?” he asked with a sly smile.
“That is more or less the whole of it,” the masked elf replied. “Commit to an alliance with the empire, pledge your service to us in times of need, and we will grant you your freedom to live and govern as you please. Your only commitment will be to explore new lands for Enoth, but not in the name of the empire. Before that, you will prove your loyalty by doing one last act of service.”
The masked elf drew out a piece of paper from his robes and handed it to the Boss. He carefully examined the parchment. On it was drawn a crude looking neckla
ce. One he had never seen before.
“The recent escape from the Pit was orchestrated by those who know the whereabouts of this necklace,” the masked elf said. “Find them, and the necklace, and you’ll have four more chests of gold like this one.”
He said it as he nudged the chest with his foot. The Boss exchanged a look with Lord Gerald. She shrugged and returned her gaze to the promised upon gold. She apparently didn’t see anything wrong with the arrangement.
“And what will Enoth give to us?” the Boss asked. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he also didn’t want to leave completely empty handed.
“Other than our promise not to wipe your city and all of its inhabitants from the face of Irradan?” the masked elf replied, crossing his arms in obvious annoyance at the request.
“I have only one term,” the Boss said. “And then Blood Spire is all yours.”
28: Misplaced Wrath
Cuno walked through the forest, incinerating any tree or living thing that came into his path. He was a towering Wrent of rage. His unified tribe had all but dispersed completely. All that was left to him was the original tribe of Arras and the few Wrents who either felt that Cuno was the most powerful leader, who ought to be followed by that virtue alone, or they were too scared to try to run for it.
Cuno didn’t care. He was sick of the entire tribe of them. All he cared about was the fire. He wanted the forest to burn: every part of it and in every way he could contrive through his magic. The woods would smoke and burn for years if it were left to him. Not a single blade of grass nor tree would remain as long as he was the leader of the Wrents.
What Wrents he did still command he had sent east to fight the elves who had fled from the battle they had fought. He was sure that, if they could find the traitorous Wrents who had allowed bloodlust to overcome their loyalty to him, their leader, that they could again become a force that could overtake the elves and reclaim their ancient lands.
