Zelspar and the Magicians

by Cheryl Rush Cowperthwait

  He grabbed the edge of his cloak and shook the stiffness out, then he twirled it over his shoulders. A clap of his hands tidied up the cave, as if they were never there, and his eyes gleamed a sickly yellow as he scanned his surroundings. He smirked. Night vision. His laughter built until it echoed through the tunnel. It drove even the spiders mad in their webs.

  They started down into the dark tunnel without need of a lit torch. He snickered under his breath and thought, “I’ll never have to give away my location in the dark.” His laughter bubbled out and even tore at the Flaptail’s ears. Flegmorr felt unstoppable.

  “Oh dear. We’ve had a long Storytime today! The sun has stretched the last of his lazy fingers across the sky, me loves. See how he peeled back the layer of the coming sunset? Peach and tangerine colors blush just past his fingertips.”

  “Ms. Lenonne, how do you know the Sun is a he,” asked Natalie.

  With a knowing wink, she answered. “Oh, because he is brash and overpowering at times -- unlike the Moon. She is delicate, sometimes brooding, but always romantic.”

  For her thoughts, Ms. Lenonne received no less than three chuckles, a few gasps and, yes, even one set of rolled eyes. She loved them all simply because it proved one very important thing: they were actively listening.

  Forrest pushed himself up from the tree he reclined against and shucked the last of his pebbles across the lawn. “Ms. L? I don’t get why Perthorn and all the Dragons don’t simply charge up against Flegmorr. He couldn’t possibly be stronger than thousands of Dragons on the attack.”

  Ms. Lenonne was still sitting down on a tuft of grass as she leaned over her knees, arms folded, and cupped her chin. “He couldn’t possibly be stronger? After all I have shared today, you still believe with all your heart that the Dragons could battle Flegmorr and win without the sacrifice of many Dragons, and Perthorn?”

  “Well, sure, some would die…”

  “Hmmm,” she puzzled, “who do you think would be all right to die so they could put an end to Flegmorr?”

  “Maybe the less important Dragons?”

  Ms. Lenonne shook her head full of curls and gave a good-natured chuckle. “My dear Forrest, all Dragons are important, especially to their Bonded, or their hatchlings, or their friends. I do appreciate your thoughts, because it shows what a very difficult decision it would be to make, but just imagine, if you would, which few sitting before you would it be alright to lose in such a battle?”

  His shoulders slumped and his head dropped. He couldn’t bring himself to look into all those eyes staring up at him.

  “So, now you understand better what Zelspar was going through. He had to be sure everyone was one hundred percent trained before such an attempt. Otherwise, he would have to answer the same question. Who would be all right to sacrifice on the chance they may be able to put an end to Flegmorr without more training? Zelspar would never risk the lives of others on a chance.”

  Forrest nodded, his head still downcast.

  “But, the true answer to this question is written in this book,” she said, tapping a finger against a yellowed page. “Remember when Zelspar was critically injured and the Great Ancestor came to heal him? It was by his directive that the Dragons would not fight this battle for Perthorn. It must be fought initially between Perthorn and Flegmorr, to bring the proper balance of Magic to Urthe.” She looked up through the leaves dancing overhead, and the deepening of the sunset colors. “Hurry home, my friends, the darkness comes soon. More stories tomorrow for any that would hear them.” She stood, then lightly brushed away the blades of grass from her clothing, the book clutched between her hands.

  In a flash of quickly propelled legs, her listeners all scurried down the hill and off to their homes where their dinners were waiting. After the last one was safely down the hill, Ms. L turned and with a light step and headed toward her home.

  Chapter 5

  With a soft smile, Ms. L rested her hand against the rough hewn door, tarnished a deep chestnut by time. She glanced over her shoulder out of habit, before she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

  A musty smell, not unpleasant, tickled her nose. What is one to expect from a home so old? she thought. Even with the summer evening, the room felt chilly. All the warmth escaped up to the thirty-foot ceiling.

  A stone fireplace rested against the far wall with an overstuffed easy chair in front of its open and waiting mouth. She added a few logs and set them ablaze before landing in the easy chair.

  Gently, a breeze stirred her uppermost curls. Whoosh! Then the telling sound of talons scratched against the stone floor and brought a creased smile to her face.

  “My Lady stayed long with her prospects this day.” It was spoken with no hint of accusation or disquiet.

  “It is hard to leave them in the middle of the telling of a tale. Only the fading light brought about the reminder,” she said with a smile.

  Yurinko, or ‘Yuri’ for his shortened name, the gentle White Dragon, settled in next to Ms. Lenonne, whom he knew as Naomi. “Are you any closer to the discovery?” he asked, eyes transfixed on the long stretching flames flickering within the fireplace.

  Sighing, Naomi simply nodded her head. She had not. “It becomes more difficult with each passing year. Fewer people are interested in the stories of old, and fewer still accept there is more than meets the eye.”

  “Perhaps you should allow them to gain entrance to this old place. Let them explore and discover.”

  “If only I could, Yuri, but alas, no, I cannot, my friend. You know better than anyone the havoc such a visit would bring.”

  “Yes, my Lady, I remember vividly what occurred thirty years ago in the place they call New Mexico. One of your fondest prospects followed you down into the chamber and found you surrounded by the hatchlings.”

  Naomi slumped fully into the deeply cushioned chair and laced her fingers together in reflection. “My stars, Yuri, if that wasn’t a scare. We had to swiftly locate another place for the hatchlings, and myself, as well.”

  Puffs of billowing smoke drifted away from the Dragon’s snout as he repositioned into a curl. His long, smooth tail curled up to rest next to his bearded muzzle.

  Naomi looked over at Yuri, her companion for the last thirty plus years, and her emerald eyes sparkled. Yuri was in his prime -- a mere nine hundred years old. His white scales still held a high polish with only a hint of yellowing on his underbelly. Atop his head, above each eye, were long slightly curved spikes with a smaller one set back, centered between the other two. His neck was long and devoid of spikes until the curve of his muscular back. There, the spikes grew in a decreasing height, which only stopped at the joining of his tail. His sleek tail glistened white except for its triangular tip, which was edged in a large band of gold. It had a mind of its own, it seemed to her, as she watched the tip occasionally flutter up and down.

  It was time for a rest for both of them. The night had only begun to light up the stars. It would be a few hours before the night put on its heavier cloak of deep indigo and they could enjoy flight again.

  Yuri awoke when the logs in the fireplace had burned down to small embers. Taking a long stretch, he sat up. A smile crinkled his scales as he looked over to see Ms. Lenonne still fast asleep in her chair. Her reading glasses dangled lopsidedly on the crook of her nose. Her arms were folded across her lap blanket and one shoe dangled off of her foot, which rested on the ottoman in front of her chair.

  He closed his eyes for a moment and remembered when they first met. When his eyes opened again, he was met with Naomi’s gaze. One look was all it took for him to read her mind before she gathered up the words.

  “Are you ready?” She was positively radiant. Her eyes sparkled even in the low light from the fireplace embers. The years fell away as she slipped on her shoe and grinned. “To the top of the stairs, Yuri!”

  “Why don’t you ride up? You know I always win.”

  “Not a chance, my friend. These legs still have get-up-and-go, and
I’m going.” She was off. She ran towards the stone steps and reached for the bannister. Her feet flew, sometimes skipping a step, and she chuckled all the way to the top landing.

  The top floor had a large balcony of sorts, which looked over the large living room. Long ago this room was something else entirely. There sat Yuri, grinning and waiting for Naomi to make her last huff and puff to reach him.

  She leaned over, clasping her knees. She looked up at him sideways. “Someday, I’ll win,” she managed to say between gulps of air.

  “Perhaps -- when you sprout wings of your own!” Yuri belched a plume of smoke as he laughed.

  “So, it’s possible, you are saying?” She grinned ear to ear. She loved his easy banter.

  “My dear Lady, for you, nothing is impossible. But then, you’ve always known that.”

  “Ahhh, because when I was small, I could see the Dragons? It did bring about an awful lot of punishment. No one believed me, for no one believed in them. Does that make any sense?”

  “Indeed, it does, my Lady. You are one of the very few who could see us…unless we used our Magic to open their minds first, then their eyes.”

  “Oh, Yuri, I remember vividly when people would throw insults at one another, calling them a Dragon. Can you imagine? They said it as if it were a bad word!” She let out a giddy laugh, her eyes sparkling.

  Yuri sputtered his laughter in a billow of smoke. “Must be the very same ones who believed it would be fun to poke the Dragon.”

  Their joined laughter filled the room. It was obvious, at least to them, being called a Dragon was the very best compliment one could be given.

  Her feet seem to glide across the floor as she made her way to the towering French doors and threw them open wide. Yuri stepped out onto the balcony and bent down. She easily climbed up, and it happened as it always did. Their heartbeats quickened until they fell into a harmonic pace.

  Naomi buttoned her woolen cloak but let her hair free. She slid her face against his neck and said, “Let’s fly!”

  Yuri soared off the balcony and pulled them up the side of the mountain until they cleared it. They circled the stone home before heading in a southwestern direction. The stars were glittering diamonds. They always seemed so close as they flew over the Irish Sea, past Cardigan Bay, down over St. George’s Channel, and out to the Celtic Sea.

  She felt Yuri’s muscles bunch and stretch out as he flew. She never tired of the feeling of being airborne in Dragon flight. She breathed deeply of the salt air below her, and felt the wind play their ancient tunes as their bodies cut through it. Her hair flew unbridled, free to gather the stardust as they whizzed by. She opened her arms wide and embraced the heartbeat of the Universe. In this moment she became fully alive and hungered for it more than food itself. This was home.

  Chapter 6

  After the welcome-home gathering for Kaida and Zlemtec was over, all slowly dispersed to their lairs, caves and homes. Zelspar found himself in deep thought. He reflected upon the recent information Kaida brought. He had more questions than answers, an uncommon plight for the uncommon Dragon known as Zelspar.

  He retired to his lair. He drifted slowly through its confines, picking up one thing, then another, not actually seeing them with his thought glazed eyes. Something pulled at his thoughts, like a bird hopping on the outskirts of vision. Small tendrils of smoke emitted from his snout. He circled his lair and finally sat upon his bench. Absentmindedly, he scratched at the floor with his staff, slowly making a crevice as his thoughts tried to find a landing place.

  Could I be missing something, a crucial link to the problem at hand? It was scratching at his brain as much as his staff scratched at the ground. Perhaps I should return to the beginning … just as I always counsel others to do, he thought.

  He gathered his essentials and prepared to leave. He would need the Ancestor’s help to return to the beginning and refresh his mind.

  The Queen, Starleira, arrived at his lair. “Zelspar, are you busy? I thought we might plan a training session for next sunrise.”

  “Starleira, you must have read my mind, dear friend. It would help me a great deal if you took on the task to have all meet in the training rooms after sunrise. I’m preparing to visit with the Ancestors to ask for guidance and help for our current situation. It seems to me there is something missing, something I should remember, in our Dragon Magic. It has always been more than sufficient for our needs…until now. I must find out how to produce optimum results.”

  “How long do you think you will be gone? I will organize the others to attend and continue training. Perhaps Kaida and Zlemtec will assist with the training while you are away.”

  “I don’t imagine it should take too long to meet with the Ancestors. Kaida and Zlemtec should assist in the trainings. Just as it has been before, they will share with the others their individual set of skills, spells and Magic. I’ll be leaving straightaway.”

  “Safe journey, Zelspar. May the Ancestors aid you in all you seek.” With those words, she embraced her dear friend. They walked together through the large network of caves until they reached the main entrance, where they parted ways.

  Zelspar adjusted his bag. It was crisscrossed over his neck and under wing and arm. He took to the air, heading out to the north where he had seclusion in the isolated caves. After several hours of flight, he located the particular cave he sought. One in which he entombed Dargenoin into one of his own Dragon Tears. The thought brought on a smirk. If entombing Dargenoin was possible, then what he sought was also possible.

  Zelspar glided to the ledge, his talons scraping the rocks and dust which sent a trail of debris down the mountainside. There was still enough fading sunlight to see as he entered the cave. His scales sent a light static charge all along the spikes running down his back. His tail quivered. Remnants of Magic were still discernible as he walked through the cave and images flooded his senses.

  He removed his bag and placed his supplies next to the firepit. Taking his marked packets, he placed them in the firepit and blew a low flame over them. As the smoke built, it billowed outward. His curled hands wove magic into the smoke as he lifted his staff high. He whispered the hidden name of the Great Ancestor.

  He watched as the smoke was pulled out of the cave and spun in on itself. It rotated faster and faster until sparks became bolts of lightning, flashing internally. Before his eyes, the shape of the Great Ancestor coalesced, in all of its majestic glory.

  “Zelspar, the Mighty Enslaver of Dargenoin, you look well for an old White Dragon,” replied the Great Ancestor in greeting.

  “As well I should. You, Great Ancestor, gave me the Healing that has allowed my days to continue when I thought they had reached their end.”

  The Ancestor’s soft chuckle was still thunderous and rattled the enclosure. “What are your needs, Noble Dragon?”

  His mouth became as a desert, where the words had no stream in which to flow.

  “Come, Zelspar. Have no fear. You may ask what you will. If it is acceptable, I will give you an answer.”

  “I sense I have lost Magic from ancient days. I have been training, in preparation for the time we fight Flegmorr, but even with all I know, all we know as combined peoples and Dragons, it feels lacking. I look for a way to travel backwards in my mind and through my ancestors. I want to search for what I’m lacking.”

  The large image towered over Zelspar and caused even his scales to vibrate. “It can be done.” The Great Ancestor swirled and lowered over Zelspar as a look of shock ripped across his eyes. His thundering Dragon roars were muffled within the energy mass.

  Zelspar whirled within the cyclone that was the Great Ancestor. He felt as if he would explode. All of his senses were muddled. He closed his eyes and pulled his staff close to his body. He felt the spinning slow down.

  When he opened his eyes, it was dark all around him. It was startlingly quiet. Not simply a hush, it was a long, tight, encapsulated quiet, which baffled his mind. No roars of thunder, win
d gusts, or the buzz of insects. Stillness. A penetrating void of silence. He became lost in the void.

  Where am I? What has happened to me? he thought, as a nibbling panic bit at his mind. An explosion erupted. He found himself in a swirling cosmos of passing stars, which birthed nebulas and a vast expanse of space. He squeezed his eyes shut as his is mind screamed, Stop!

  In that instant he stopped. His wings beat furiously on instinct. His eyes tentatively opened a sliver, then sprung wide open at the same time his jaw lost its hinge.

  A rush of whispers came on the wind. He sat upon a mountain top. A place he had never been. He stared out at a land covered in tall trees, lush vegetation, and the bluest sky ever beheld. It was a Dragon paradise. Where were the whispers coming from, he wondered.