The Forgotten King (Korin's Journal)

by Beam, Brian

  The little girl squealed with delight, the others now joining her in awe of a talking squirrel. “Can you do a trick?” she asked with guileless innocence.

  “Go ahead, Max,” Sal’ jibed, taking Max from her shoulder and laying him on the floor.

  Max jumped back around to face us. “You are joking, right? I have to talk to Til’ about the dra—”

  “We’ll take care of that,” I told him, throwing an arm around Sal’s shoulders. She leaned against me. As weary as she looked, I assumed it was as much from needing help staying upright as out of affection. “These kids need a distraction, and I think a talking squirrel will do the trick.” I gave Max a pointed look.

  The kids didn’t need to set foot outside of the house yet. They didn’t need to see the death, the blood, or the massive creatures out of legend. They didn’t need to learn that their parents had been lost in the battle. Yet, they didn’t need to be left alone in a closet, locked away with only their fear to keep them company either. Plus, it’s not like Max had to worry that revealing his abilities would get him carted off to the Wizard Academy anymore.

  Max closed his eyes and shook his head in acceptance. I grinned, sheathed my shortsword, and started off towards the stairs, Sal’ at my side.

  “Korin, you know you owe me . . .” I didn’t hear the end of Max’s response as Sal’ and I climbed down the steps. Max would never let me hear the end of it, but considering the joy the children would receive after such a traumatic experience would make it worth it.

  Sal’ chuckled as we walked down a hallway to a door leading out of the house. “I think you owe him more salmon now.”

  “Either that or some of those meat rolls we got in the Black Magic District.”

  Sal’ stopped dead in her tracks, her mirth faded. “You don’t mean the timuril rolls, do you?” I looked at her questioningly. “The stuffed meat rolls?”

  My stomach began to churn from the urgency in her voice. “Um . . . yeah, I think so. I’m not going to die from eating them, am I?”

  Sal’ put a hand over her mouth, and her eyes lit up with poorly hidden laughter. “Those are made with cat meat.”

  I swallowed back my gag reflex. “I probably shouldn’t tell Max that, should I?”

  “It’ll be our secret,” she answered with a winsome smile. I put my hand to her cheek and gave her another quick kiss, too taken by her smile to worry about having eaten meat from the same type of animal as Max’s previous form.

  We started back down the hall. I paused as I put a hand to the door’s handle. “I think it says a lot about all we’ve been through that there are dragons outside this door, and possibly even remnants of Gualain’s army, and I’m barely even nervous.”

  Sal’ threw her arm around my waist and yawned. “I’m too exhausted to be nervous anyway. I haven’t slept since . . .” Sal’ started ticking off fingers before giving up with a shake of her head.

  I swept an errant strand of sandy hair from her face and hooked it behind her ear. “Let’s do this.”

  We stepped out into the gray afternoon, the falling snow reduced to stray flakes sweeping through the wind. Ahead of us, the silver-black dragon was sitting back on its haunches, its orange eyes warily sweeping the area. I could understand; being a member of a race banished due to humanity’s fear, it probably thought that even the “good guys” were likely to attack it. Hell, if not for Bhaliel, even I would’ve automatically assumed the dragons to be hostile.

  There were no signs of remaining Gualainian troops, the ones who’d survived the dragon’s attack having apparently fled. Terafall was a smoldering husk of what it had been, its streets dotted with bodies, half its structures burning or already burnt to the ground. The air was thick with the strench of blood, rot, and smoke. Though far from silent, with the battle all but over, the town was relatively quiet.

  Small clusters of troops, some being tended by the remaining Wizard Guard and some holding vigil for return of Gualainian forces, dotted the grounds. Others nursed wounds that didn’t require magic healing, but were severe enough to keep them from setting out after the retreating enemy. All cautiously eyed the dragon, but none moved to attack it. Hopefully they realized that the dragons were on their side and that without them, they’d probably either still be fighting or dead.

  Briscott and Til’ were deep in conversation. Briscott was holding out his Loranis-sigiled fortune block with one hand while animatedly gesturing with the other. Til’ had a wide, childlike smile on his face, something I hadn’t expected with so much death around him. Unlike the rest of us, he was clean and alert. If not for the fact that Sal’ had just told me she loved me, I would’ve considered Til’ the lucky one.

  “Hey, Til’,” I called loudly through the sounds of the troops.

  Til’ looked our way, his silver eyes gleaming even in the winter murk. Once his gaze settled on Sal’ and me, he broke into what I can only describe as a “Til’ grin” and came rushing towards us. Briscott smiled as well and set after us at a walk behind Til’.

  Til’ drove me to the ground once he made contact with me, his arms wrapped around my waist. With Til’ being so small, I hadn’t expected to be knocked back on my ass. Still, I found myself laughing.

  “Korin!” Til’ exclaimed as he squeezed me and then leapt to his feet to throw his arms around Sal’.

  Sal’ barely held her balance but pulled it off better than I had. She crouched to hug Til’ back and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Til’ beamed up at her as he touched his fingers to where her lips had been. I rose to my feet and put an arm around Sal’s shoulder.

  “You two are never going to believe what I’ve been through. See, I got to the Glacial Mountains. There were some wizards in the area, but I avoided them and found a path through the mountains, so it only took me a few days. It’s really cold there, much colder than this. And there are no trees or anything. Did you know that there aren’t any trees there? I wonder if that’s why humans never lived there. It would be hard to build a house. I guess you could just use mountain rock; there’s plenty of that. I didn’t find any dragons at first, but—”

  “Til’, it’s so good to see you,” Sal’ interrupted. “But there will be time for your story later. How did you get these dragons here?”

  Til’ opened his mouth to answer, but his eyes went to my arm around Sal’. “Did you finally tell her?” At this point, Briscott had arrived and arched an eyebrow in similar question as he scratched at his beard.

  With a squeeze of Sal’s shoulders, I nodded. Sal’ leaned her head on my shoulder and put a hand on my chest, smiling up at me. I brought my other hand up to clasp hers. Briscott tilted his head with a grin. Til’ broke into an even bigger smile than I’d have thought possible.

  My eyes stayed locked with Sal’s for a moment. If not for evil wizards trying to take over the world with glowing rocks and the undead, life would’ve been pretty damn good.

  “See, I told you, Korin. I told him you loved him, Sal’, but he wouldn’t listen. I—”

  I spoke over Til’ as he rambled on. “Sal’,” I began, letting go of her hand and gesturing to Briscott. “This is Briscott Erlat, a friend. I’m not sure I would’ve made it this far without him, or even be alive, for that matter.”

  “Then I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Sal’ told him.

  “By Loranis’s blood, Korin speaks too kindly of me.” Briscott stepped forward and lifted one of Sal’s hands to his lips. “It is an honor to meet the daughter of the Grand Wizard. And may I say that you’re even more beautiful than Korin made you out to be.”

  “Is that so?” Sal’ replied with a sly narrowing of her eyes.

  “He blighting well wouldn’t shut up about you most times,” Briscott joked, clapping my shoulder. The injured one, of course. “Sorry; pardon my language. I’ve been around nothing but men for a while now, and there’s a blight . . . a dragon just over my shoulder there, keeping me on edge.”

  “You’re blighting forgiven,�
�� Sal’ returned wearily, but with perfect timing. Briscott chortled and gave me a knowing wink.

  “Til’, what’s going on here?” I asked, gesturing to the dragon standing more than twice my height at its shoulder not a dozen paces from us.

  “Oh, that’s Rhyxis. He’s the first dragon I met in the Snowy Waste. After I returned Xalis, I told him about how Bhaliel had . . .” Til’s eyes went out of focus for a moment, but he shook his head and continued. “How Bhaliel had sacrificed herself to save us. Rhyxis wanted to know why Bhaliel would do such a thing for man, especially after Xalis had been taken. I told him about the eldrhims, and so he called a convening of some sort of council of dragons.

  “Anyway, Rhyxis had me stand before a big group of dragons and tell them what all I’d been through. You should’ve seen the ice cave and all those dragons; it was incredible! When I told them about the walking dead and the green rocks, they were convinced that Rizear’s power had bled into the world, and they offered to accompany me here to help put a stop to it. They knew where the gap in the barrier was, and now here we are. Isn’t that crazy? They could’ve escaped at any time after Bhaliel did, but they’d believed the same as she: that it could lead to war.” Til’ took in a deep breath and opened his mouth to continue before I held up a hand to stop him.

  “So they’re here to help us take down . . . whoever is raising the dead and controlling them?”

  Til’ nodded excitedly. “Uh-huh, because they believe that the power to raise the dead comes from Rizear. They say that wizards didn’t hold the power to give life to the dead in the days before they were banished to the Snowy Waste. They will fly us wherever we need to go. They told me they can feel the dark power of Rizear coming from . . .” Til’ turned in a circle a couple times, his arms crossing over one another as he tried to pinpoint a direction.

  “That way?” Briscott offered, pointing to his left.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Til’ beamed. “How did you know?”

  “Bherin’s that way,” Briscott answered solemnly.

  The air felt a little colder as we stared eastward. Our reverie was interrupted by a huff at our feet. I glanced down and saw Max twitching his nose.

  “Do you know how many of those children wanted to pet me?” Max asked incredulously. “Not that I mind to be petted, but children just do not . . . you owe me.”

  I put a hand to my forehead. “Max, you left them alone?”

  “No, lunkhead, I made sure someone was with them. I was not about to let you approach this dragon without me. I would have been quite upset if you got yourself eaten out of stupidity.”

  “Max,” Til’ admonished, “Rhyxis would never eat anyone . . . I think.”

  “Well, now that the all-knowing rodent is here, let’s go talk to Rhyxis.” That earned me a nice squirrelly glare. “We shouldn’t all approach Rhyxis at once, though,” I suggested, looking to the others. “I don’t want him to feel overwhelmed if he’s uneasy about humans.”

  “I’ll hold back. I need to get report from my squadron,” Sal’ offered, fighting a battle to keep her eyelids from dropping. She was barely winning. “Plus, I need to formally transfer my command.”

  “Why would you do that?” Til’ asked.

  Sal’ paused, licking moisture onto her lips. “Enough men have died under my command.”

  “Sal’ . . .” I began, her words stinging my heart.

  Sal’ raised a hand to silence me. “Besides, I refuse to continue under my father’s orders. What happened in this town has made sure of that.” Her expression darkened. “I’ll explain later. My primary reason is that I believe that you may be the key to ending this war, Korin. My path no longer lies with the Academy. It lies with you.”

  I was fairly certain that both Sal’ and Max were putting too much stock into my role in stopping Raijom and the war, but now wasn’t the time to get into it. I mean, heroes in stories may be able to singlehandedly stop wars and defeat great evils, but not me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try, it just meant that I was prepared for the possibility—or should I say strong likelihood—of failing.

  “I believe I’ll stay right here,” Briscott added, taking a seat on a relatively clean patch of snow. “I’ve dealt with a lot in the past few months, but I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with a blighted dragon just yet. If we’re going to be flying on those bli . . .” he cast a surreptitious glance towards Sal’, “those creatures, I’m going to need some time to let it sink in.”

  I put a finger under Sal’s chin and tilted her head back to look into her eyes. “I will see you soon, then.”

  Sal’ rose on her toes to give me a quick kiss on my stubbled cheek. She wrinkled her nose. “We’re going to have to do something about that.”

  “I think I’ll stick to a razor this time.” I gave her a wink.

  Sal’ responded with an exasperated breath. “You’re lucky that I’m too tired to be angry.” She waved a finger in my face. “Don’t think that means you’re off the hook, though.” Her eyes betrayed her amusement.

  As Sal’ headed off to join up with her squadron, I turned to Briscott. “Were you able to get her to safety?” I asked, referring to the infant.

  There was genuine pride and unadulterated joy in the smile that spread on his face. “Loranis, bless his name, helped guide me. She’s safe. In these times, I’ll take any blighted miracles I can get”

  “I couldn’t agree more,” I said, nodding at the truth of his words. Silver linings are more like gold when death and destruction surround you. “Will you keep an eye out for Ithan?”

  “I can do that much.” Briscott waved me away.

  I put a hand on Til’s shoulder. “Lead the way.”

  Max scurried up to my shoulder again. “It is about time. I was just about ready to go without you.”

  Chapter 45

  Dealing with Dragons

  Til’ set forth with a spring in his step. “Rhyxis is really nice. He was worried about coming here, humans being so hostile against dragons and all. Did you know dragons eat mountain goats? There’s not much else in the Snowy Waste, apparently . . .”

  Til’ rambled on, but my attention was stolen by the majestic creature before me, his metallic silver scales seemingly glowing despite the dearth of daylight. Two great horns jutted in curves from the top of his head, with smaller ones lining the edges of its long snout and under its jaw. As we approached, glowing orange eyes focused on us.

  “Tilrook, are these ones of whom you spoke?” The ground quaked from the deepness of Rhyxis’s voice. I could almost hear his words more through the vibrations they stirred in my bones than through my ears.

  “Yes, this is Korin and Max. Sal’s over there with the wizards. Don’t worry; she’s not one of those wizards. That’s Briscott sitting on the ground. He’s a little nervous to meet a dragon.” Til’ gestured to where Briscott sat. When Briscott noticed Til’ pointing at him and Rhyxis staring him down, he gave a nervous wave. I could swear that Rhyxis’s mouth curved upward.

  Rhyxis brought his attention to me, lowering his head level with mine. “My thanks to the both of you, Korin and Max. Tilrook has told me that Xalis’s survival was highly dependent on your actions. New births are rare with the curse we have been burdened with. Xalis brought us a joy not felt in centuries.” Rhyxis snorted, the air misting from his fist-sized nostrils.

  “We only did what was right,” I answered. “I think that we’re in your debt. You’ve saved more lives today than you may know.”

  “Your kind does not seem very thankful,” Rhyxis rumbled, his long neck craning as he scanned the area around us. Most of the wizards, troops, and emerging Terafall survivors were all focused on him. Many had hostility shining through scowls and drawn brows.

  Before I could respond, Max whispered, “Here come the others.”

  Strong gusts of wind slammed into me, threatening to knock me from my feet as three more dragons descended with thunderous beats of their wings. Two were green: one emeral
d and one chartreuse. The last was as red as the setting sun, with a golden underbelly. They were each smaller than Rhyxis, but that just meant they were less huge. The area was starting to become exceedingly crowded.

  “Ah, my brethren,” Rhyxis rumbled. “Allow me to introduce Tharax, Ghalien, and Alyshine. Rhal is patrolling outside the town to ensure that the . . . enemy has been routed.”

  Rhyxis’s pause sent a chill through me. He obviously had trouble referring to only one certain group outside of the Snowy Waste as the enemy. Before banishing dragons to the Snowy Waste a millennium prior, wizards had systematically manufactured a fear of dragons among Amirand’s populace. That fear kept the banishment unquestioned and was passed down from generation to generation until dragons became little more than a legend used to scare children. Therefore, Rhyxis had fair cause to view everyone outside the Snowy Waste as an enemy.

  “My brethren, this is Korin and Max, two of those responsible for Xalis’s safe homecoming.” The other three dragons nodded their heads with rumbling words of thanks before turning their attention to the groups of soldiers and townsfolk. The unsteady tension between the dragons and those groups felt as if it could be broken by a feather.

  Max stood up on my shoulder. “Rhyxis, you and your brethren have our sincere gratitude for what you have done here today. What are your intentions now?”

  “We will not stand for Rizear’s touch on the world,” Rhyxis replied. “We have promised Tilrook to assist you in your attack on he who draws upon the power of the god of death to summon eldrhims and give soulless life to the dead.”

  My memory was drawn to when Sal’ had told me about wizards using a form of magic called necromancy to create—as Sal’ termed them—zombies. “From what I understand, raising the dead isn’t a new form of magic. Are all wizards who raise the dead drawing upon Rizear’s power?” Just for the record, I still didn’t believe in the existence of the gods exactly, but my curiosity was piqued.