The dragons took flight again, and increased their combined efforts, spraying intense blue, orange, and red flames onto Ianthill as he rolled away. Dorenn was impressed as the wizard stood fast, pushing back the flames. Casting the staff aside, Ianthill held his hands up high and a column of black flames leaped from his fingertips. One of the dragons burst into a horrible, deafening scream as its charred remains crashed to the floor in a smoldering heap. The keep groaned and crumbled, and Dorenn shrank away, remembering the terrible cost of using blackfire. In an instant of revelation, Dorenn swiftly sprang from his crouched position to grasp the staff Ianthill had cast aside, intending to help him with it. Ianthill looked visibly shaken by his experience, and he and Dorenn exchanged a long glance, which Dorenn knew was only seconds. Ianthill was vulnerable to the attacking dragons. The old wielder’s expression went dark, and Dorenn knew what was about to happen. Ianthill held up his hand, and Dorenn felt a strange sensation as he was pushed back by an unseen force to the safety of a nearby pillar. Dorenn recovered quickly and was about to charge back to Ianthill’s aid when he realized Sylvalora was standing next to him, holding him back. She smiled. “I choose you, Dorenn. You must live.”
Dorenn stared at her, confused for a moment. “You choose me for what?” he asked, but she did not answer.
Infuriated, the two remaining dragons focused on Ianthill.
Dorenn watched in awe as Sylvalora began to shimmer and transform. Silver wings sprang from her shoulder blades, and her face elongated into a maw. Her emerald green eyes flashed as her great silver wings stirred the air, and she took flight, knocking Dorenn to the ground. The two remaining dragons swooped down on Ianthill, striking him, flames burning him relentlessly.
“NO!” Gondrial screamed as he leapt onto one of the dragon’s path. He held out his hands and more of the damaged ceiling fell and crumbled as blackfire engulfed the green dragon with deadly lightless flame. Some of the black flame recoiled and smote Gondrial. Pieces of stone from the ceiling of the keep exploded downward as the dragon’s tail smashed a supporting stone pillar, and pieces of it crashed into the already weakened wall. Unlike Ianthill, Gondrial’s blackfire had failed to stop the dragon completely. Gondrial lay motionless on the floor of the trembling chamber.
Dorenn stepped out from the safety of the pillar. He used Dranmalin to focus on the dragon. He knew it was a magical creature, surely it teamed with essence. He dropped the staff and held Dranmalin with both hands. He started drawing in essence through his sword from the dragon. It’s breath stopped and it hit the floor. He kept drawing in essence until he couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Release it! Release it, boy! Ianthill shouted. “Before it kills you.”
Dorenn felt his hands burning on the hilt of Dranmalin, which was in flames. It’s blade was red as molten metal. His eyes burned red, and red was all he could see. The dragon took to flight getting as far away as it could as fast as it could. The only target Dorenn could see remaining nearby was the Enforcers. He felt the pouch with the three stones he got at Cedar Falls burning into his side. He knew he should release the essence but the power felt too good. He just needed to draw a little more, He thought. Finally, he managed to say the word release and the flames burst forth from Dranmalin in a multitude of colors. Every remaining Enforcer threw back his head no matter where he stood in the keep. Their eyes burned out of their sockets as they screamed to the sky, every one of them! Flames issued forth in a blue and orange stream from their mouths and their heads caught fire. They all fell to the floor in unison. Dorenn fell to the floor as well, his hands smoldering, but he clung to Dranmalin. Next he reached for the threes stones. They had been charged with magic. He grasped them in his hand and they burned him. He pointed Dranmalin at Drakkius and released. The great dragon reverted back onto a more human form, but not completely. Dorenn could see he was trying desperately to change back into a dragon but he couldn’t. Drakkius turned and ran for one of the regrouping dragons. Dorenn bounded into a run. He felt rejuvenated, energized!
At the far end of the room, he saw Drakkius mount the back of the dragon and they both immediately began to attack the Silver Drake. The dragon was breathing flames at her. Dorenn realized they were trying to capture her so they could fly off. He increased his sprint; the room seemed so much bigger all the sudden. The Silver Drake spun around and flew directly into the dragon flames. She sent her body up with a mighty thrust of her silvery wings. Her eyes flashed ruby red as she cast a luminous spell. Drakkius tried to rein in his dragon. He abruptly turned on her. “Join me Silver Drake!” Drakkius reached inside a bag at his side and pulled out the green statuette. The Silver Drake shrieked and spit blue fire at Drakkius and his dragon, but Drakkius fended off the flames and managed to cast his spell. The Silver Drake shrank into a small silver statue that Drakkius immediately summoned to him with his free hand. A silvery blue light from the Silver Drake entered the statuette. He put the figurine into a bag he carried at his side and clasped the Silver Drake in his hands, laughing shrilly. He reined in his dragon. Dorenn leaped with Dranmalin out before him. The sword thrust into Drakkius’ chest with ease causing him to drop both the bag and the Silver Drake. Drakkius and Dorenn slid off the dragon’s back together. Dorenn saw the surprise in Drakkius’ eyes. One of the Enforcers picked up the statue and Silver Drake and Dorenn watched with amazement as a blue mist left Drakkius and entered the Enforcer. Dorenn pulled Dranmalin out of Drakkius and ran after the Enforcer who was now running for the dragon. The Enforcer stopped and turned on Dorenn. Two unnatural eyes peered at him from beneath the dark hood and Dorenn froze. The Enforcer mounted the dragon and took to the skies. Whatever spell he had used on Dorenn melted away as he gained altitude.
Shaking off his stun, Dorenn searched for the final dragon. He knew the threat wasn’t over yet. He soon found the remaining black dragon had fixed its eyes on the still vulnerable Ianthill as he lay moaning on the chamber floor. There was a moment when the dragon met Ianthill’s gaze, eye to eye, and then it dove.
Dorenn clenched his fists, trying to draw essence, but he could not summon it fast enough. He looked at Dranmalin and its glow was gone. He was spent as far as essence was concerned. Just as he was trying to get up to go to Ianthill’s aid, he caught the glimpse of someone in a blue robe streak past him out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to see a man with a hood over his face, standing over Ianthill. Concerned, Dorenn tried to get up again. He had to do something. The robed man turned to meet his gaze, and Dorenn stopped short when he saw the man’s face. Two ice blue eyes stared at him and he froze, this time in disbelief. The man in blue put his hand on Ianthill’s shoulder. “I am here, brother.”
“Morgoran!” Ianthill said. “It cannot be.”
“Aye, Ianthill, I am here,” Morgoran repeated as he held up his dark wood staff with his right hand toward the attacking dragon and removed his hood with his left. His blue eyes sparkled with life as the light from his staff struck the creature. It flew down low and then it climbed higher into the sky. Morgoran lifted his left hand high and let loose a terrible thunder that drove the dragon away, and it flew off into the distance.
Morgoran reached down to Ianthill and pulled him to his feet. Ianthill embraced his old friend and stared into his familiar blue eyes. “Your eyes!” Ianthill marveled.
“The curse has been lifted. The Silver Drake lifted it when she last came to the vale. Forgive my tardiness; it took me some time to recover.”
“I am pleased to see you, my brother,” Ianthill said.
“Naturally you are, old fool, I just saved your skin. You have grown careless. You waited too long to join the fight. We have some work to do with you still.”
“I hope you are jesting. You just got here and shooed away one dragon.”
“Of course I am brother, have you forgotten my sense of humor?”
Ianthill’s expression soured. “Brother, I think I know what Drakkius released from that green statuette.”
“T
oborne!” Morgoran said. “I already know.” He scanned the chamber. “Where is Sylvalora?”
“With Drakkius. He captured her.”
“No, I killed Drakkius. An Enforcer flew off on a dragon with her.” Dorenn said.
Morgoran turned red with anger. “Who is this impetuous boy?”
Ianthill put his hand on Morgoran’s shoulder. “It’s all right. He is a descendant of the house Arden.”
Morgoran stared down at Dorenn. “I hope you live up to your destiny, boy.” He helped Ianthill to his feet. “Toborne has taken the Silver Drake, which means he will take the Sacred Land.”
“Toborne? I thought he was dead,” Dorenn said.
“Nay, you have been carrying him around with you ever since you left Cedar Falls.” Morgoran said acidly. A feeling of shame creeped up in Dorenn and he looked off at Tatrice, who was busy helping with wounded. “He now dwells within the shell of that Enforcer you let escape. Drakkius is no more; he has been sacrificed to Toborne, thanks to you boy.”
“Don’t be so hard on the boy, brother, he was only trying to help. He acted bravely.” Ianthill leaned on his staff as soon as Morgoran retrieved it for him. “The elven statuette now carries the captured essence of the Silver Drake. Toborne will use the magic of the Silver Drake against us.” Ianthill said.
Dorenn groaned. “Then Symboria and the Sacred Land are lost.”
Morgoran helped Ianthill sit on one of the benches against a portion of the wall that had not crumbled as a cleric came to his aid. “We are not defeated yet, my boy, we just need a new strategy. Naneden will take the Sacred Land for Toborne, but it does not mean we must give up. I still have a few memories of what I saw when I was cursed. We can still prevail, but it will not be easy. ”
Enowene found her way to Morgoran and embraced him. “It does my heart good to see you are back with us, Morgoran.”
“My dear Enowene, it has been far too long.”
Dorenn saw Rennon staring at him from near the entrance and then duck out the doorway when Dorenn noticed him. Bren was out in the fields beyond the keep, helping the Defenders route the last few resisters that were not taken by Dorenn’s attack. Vesperin was treating Gondrial while Morgoran focused on helping the cleric with Ianthill. Dorenn went to Melias, who was busy wrapping Gondrial’s wounds in bandages while Vesperin healed. “How is he?” Dorenn asked.
Melias looked at Vesperin.
“He will live,” Vesperin replied. “Don’t go anywhere. I need to look at your hands.”
Tatrice ran to Dorenn, embracing him and giving him a kiss. “I have missed you.”
Dorenn kissed her back. “And I you.”
Tatrice beheld his face. “What is it?”
Dorenn met her gaze. “I am just tired, Tat.”
Tatrice pulled him to her.
“That Morgoran fellow is kind of mean.” He muttered.
Tatrice began to laugh.
“How is that funny? He’s a mean old bastard I tell you.”
Chapter 44: Signs and Symptoms
The stench of burning bodies rose up into the air as the defenders cleared away the dead. Some were to be buried in the hero’s cemetery nearby at first thaw. Gondrial was near death, but Vesperin tended to him inside the walls of Calanbrough Keep. The woman, Kimala, had escaped into the wild, and a party was dispatched to track her, but Dorenn knew they would soon return without finding her. The Enforcers were to stay dissolved for the time being, and Dorenn could not help but to distrust Yarbrille even though it appeared that he was now trying to help them. Dorenn surveyed his surroundings; the land remained scorched as far as he could see. Brightonhold and its surroundings now looked much more devastated than the rest of the Sacred Land, at least the parts of it he had seen. The keeps were built on untouched lands on the border of Lux Enor, but Dorenn realized they had to be included within the Sacred Land’s borders now. At least, Brightonhold did.
As soon as he could slip away, Dorenn found a small hill just outside Calanbrough to sit on and smoke his pipe.
As the sun set, a rider came to the keep. Dorenn did not bother to move from his spot. As soon as the rider dismounted, Rennon embraced him. The bow on the riders back and Rennon’s embrace told Dorenn that the rider must be Trendan.
After a few moments had passed, Trendan appeared before him. His blond hair was longer and his green tunic was dirty, but it was him.
“Hail, Dorenn. Rennon told me what happened here today. I am deeply sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. At least I put a stop to Drakkius.” Dorenn said flatly.
Trendan squinted and scratched the side of his face. “I have some news. The army of the West has disappeared and the black Scarovian army advances.”
Dorenn said nothing.
“Did you hear me, Dorenn? The army is gone, vanished without a trace. These Defenders are the only army to stop Naneden from taking over the Sacred Land.”
“Then he will take it.”
“Do you know what you are saying, Dorenn?”
Dorenn puffed on his pipe and looked at Trendan in the fading light. “Aye, I do, the Sacred Land is lost.” He puffed on his pipe again. “Did you know the name Sylvalora turns out to mean Silver Drake in dragon tongue, according to Bren, and she has been captured?”
“No, I did not know that,” Trendan answered.
“Did you know I am to be trained as a wielder?”
“I did not.”
Dorenn put his pipe back to his mouth and puffed out a cloud of white smoke. “Toborne has escaped, Naneden is strong, and we have no skilled wielders, no army. We failed here. But know this, if I have some affinity to wield magic and help save our homeland, I am going to do it.”
“I suppose you have to do what you have to do. If you feel you need to be a wielder, then it’s your life and your decision.”
“Rennon won’t like it.”
“Then Rennon can go home.” Trendan answered. “You don’t answer to Rennon.”
Vesperin joined his two friends on the hill. “Dorenn, I believe Gondrial will live and be well. Gondrial may waken in the morning, but he will not be himself for quite some time.”
“I am very tired, and I need to rest.” Dorenn whispered.
“What was that?” Vesperin inquired.
“I said I am very tired.”
“Did you want me to give you something to help with that?” Vesperin asked.
“I don’t think so. I just need to rest.”
Vesperin took a long look at his half-elven friend. “Trendan, it is good to see you.”
“And you, Vesperin,” Trendan said as he embraced the cleric. Trendan released Vesperin but could not help to stare and smile at him.
“What are you smirking at?” he asked.
Trendan’s smile became a playful grin. “We will speak in the morning. I have met someone you might find interesting. Go and get some rest.”
Vesperin looked at Trendan with puzzlement. “All right. I look forward to hearing about it.”
“If you need some rest, my friend,” Trendan said to Dorenn. “Come to the keep.”
“You go ahead, Trendan. I will come down in a few moments.”
“Perhaps everything will look different in the light of morning, after you’ve had some rest.” Trendan said consolingly.
“Perhaps,” Dorenn whispered as soon as Trendan had walked far enough away. “But don’t count on it.”
Trendan winced; his half-elven ears heard the words as clear as if Dorenn had said them to his face.
“Dorenn,” a familiar voice said behind him.
Dorenn grinned in spite himself. “Tatrice.”
Tatrice strolled up to him, and a look of sympathy crossed her face.
Dorenn stared at the magnificence of her blue dragon scale armor. “I see you found a way to adapt your armor. Did you have a blacksmith do it?”
“You didn’t notice it earlier?”
“I was not paying attention then. I had other things on my mind.”
Tatrice blushed and Dorenn became puzzled. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I did have help adapting it, but I doubt you would believe it if I told you.”
Dorenn feigned a weak smile. He was suddenly uninterested in knowing the truth. “You will have to tell me the story someday then.”
“I will, I promise,” she said as she reached up to take Dorenn’s face in her hands. Dorenn flinched and moved away at first, but she tried again and he let her cup her hands under his chin. She placed her forehead against his. “Are you going to be all right?”
A lump formed in Dorenn’s throat. For the first time in a long while he felt tears welling up. “Aye,” he whispered. Tatrice lowered her head, pressing her lips to his.
“Yes,” Tatrice whispered after the kiss.
Dorenn was perplexed. “Yes?”
“Yes, I will marry you, Dorenn Adair,” she said beaming.
Dorenn managed a smile as he drew Tatrice in for another kiss.
Trendan and Vesperin stopped where Ianthill was sitting and talking to Morgoran.
“Well?” Ianthill asked.
“You were right, he is not himself.” Vesperin said.
“He does seem depressed.” Trendan agreed.
Ianthill looked to the hill at Dorenn and Tatrice. “We will keep watching him. Moodyness does not automatically mean he has essence sickness.”
“You will know it without a doubt if he does come down with it.” Morgoran said.
“All we can do if keep an eye out.” Ianthill said. “I have never seen a novice wielder use so much power like that. He is already a force to be reckoned with.”
“Aye, an unstable, untrained, undisciplined force.” Morgoran said. “And who gave him that infernal dragon sword?”
Ianthill took a puff of his pipe. “He got it at Signal Hill.”
“That sword is a force all by itself. I’m not certain he should have it with him.”
“He will not part with it now.” Ianthill assured him.
Defenders of the Sacred Land: Expanded and Re-Issued (The Sacred Land Legacy Book 1) Page 39
