“When the First Seal opens, a sea of darkness will be unleashed, and it will be spearheaded by five unique evil beings. Ireli and I encountered a demon known as Maleuuenant; I believe this being to be the Initiate the prophecies have foretold. I believe the demon was attempting to activate and prepare the seal near Mor, but that seal is not the first. It is said that the First Seal lies far to the northeast, high up in the mountains.
“I assume once Maleuuenant has prepared all six seals, he will then travel to the First Seal and open it. From what I have gathered through my studies of the Ikalreev Prophecies, the seal we saw southwest of Mor is the Second Seal. The seals must be prepared in order from first to sixth. Therefore, we have a very short window to kill the demon before he succeeds, which is why I need your help.
“Discovering Ireli as one of the Ikalreev mages was a blessing, but she seems far from ready to deal with such an immediate threat. She will only awaken when taken into the Four Trials, due to a built-in precaution to the spell. The Ikalreev created the Four Trials as a way to teach the three mortals and myself how to effectively utilize our Ikalreev magic powers to their full extent. The four will need to undergo these trials in order to fully unlock the knowledge of the Ikalreev. The individual trials are a mystery, and until now I was not allowed entrance. The ancient ones were concerned about granting me such great power without a pressing purpose. They saw power as necessary but corrupting without aim and forbid me from entering.
“So, since Ireli has been found, the spell is beginning to take its course, and the trials should allow entrance. Each mage may undergo different trials, though it is not clear. Therefore, the task at hand is to travel to the Four Trials to help Ireli unlock her power and for me to undergo my trial as well, so we may have full understanding of our magic. The Ikalreev depicted the trials in a map near the base of the Tri-Peaks.”
Caedmon’s eyes were drawn to Aili’s whitening face.
Treasach blurted in shock, “Tri-Peaks! The land of the giants? Are you mad?”
Caedmon held out his hands in a calming gesture. “Now, hold on. There is no reason to be alarmed. We will not encounter the giants on our journey. It is simply about finding the trials and helping Ireli.”
“And you know exactly where to find the trials?” Treasach questioned intensely. “Because the giants can be dangerous, Caedmon.”
“Well, not exactly.” Caedmon straightened his back defensively in response to the prince’s outburst.
“Then how can you assure us?” Treasach was becoming disrespectful in his accusations. “You have no idea what to expect, and you do not know—”
“Quiet!” King Zael roared at his child and slammed his fist on the arm of his throne. “My son shall show respect to the great guardian!”
The prince lowered his head and averted his eyes as he steamed in his seat.
“You are my son, my heir! Yet you show weakness and fear. Allowing your emotions to rule you is not befitting of this royal house and our name.” The king’s anger was overwhelming. His fist slammed the arm of his throne again. “The times at hand prove direr than you realize, son. The giants and the Drey’kan will be of no concern if this demon succeeds. Anything and everything must be done to stop this Initiate, and you will go with Caedmon and assist him with whatever endeavors he believes are necessary to stop the demon. That goes for all of you!” Zael commanded in a rage.
The room went silent.
The air had suddenly become heavy with discomfort. Zael took a deep breath and rose out of his throne. He looked down at everyone who sat at the table.
“Excuse my frustration. It was unfounded. It seems the stresses of being king have grown greater of late. Numerous events are taking place, and the survival of this kingdom is more fragile than I realized. Dozens of enemies plague our kingdom: the unpredictable Nathra, the vile Hyips, the fierce forest trolls of the south, the orcs, the ogres, and the reawakened dragons. Those are just a few of my problems. That is why our armies are stressed to their limits and why I cannot afford to reassign others to aid Caedmon. I am in need of every one of your abilities, for the coming days are growing ever more clouded with the fog of uncertainty, and our kingdom cannot afford another enemy. I am no longer requesting your aid but demanding it.” The king paused with a deep breath.
“Your group will travel to the Tri-Peaks to uncover the mysteries of the Four Trials, and Faolan will remain as your leader. He has proven his worth by laying down his life before any of yours. Caedmon will be his second in command. Whenever Faolan is unable to lead, Caedmon will. On your way to the Tri-Peaks, you will be aiding the four dwarven cities surrounding the Verdunmull Scar because they have reported dragon attacks and request aid. If there are no dragons attacking when you pass through, then you have no reason to stay. I cannot have you sitting idly by while the demon activates the seals, but I have promised King Kvaran our aid and support in the matter. So to keep up relations with the dwarfs, you will show our presence, even if short lived. The dwarven messenger insisted no dwarf could possibly be afraid of a dragon, yet they seek aid. Impossible are the dwarfs. Remove the threat if there is one, and if not, continue to the trials.” Zael’s frustration was evident. He looked at Caedmon and motioned for him to continue.
“We shall be leaving tomorrow. Make sure you rest well and gather any provisions you need for the trip,” the old guardian said.
The king sat back down in his throne and released a heavy breath. “You are all free to leave.”
Everyone at the table stood up and made their way out of the throne room. When the doors shut behind them, Caedmon turned to Zael. “Dragons have been attacking the dwarfs?”
“Yes. We have been receiving reports of dragon attacks in all corners of Verdunmull. When the demon awoke the Silverwings, he awoke them all—every single den. They are all connected, except for the Terrorgors, by a powerful and ancient magic coursing through their draconic blood. Five dragon species have been sighted thus far, and others are sure to follow. The Silverwings and the Greenbacks, treasure hoarders. Those breeds are not much of a concern . . . though the bone hoarders, they are devastating in nature. The Great-Horned, the Razormaw, and the Fearlascor.” Zael shared his concerning reports with his old friend.
“The Fearlascor dragons are among the worst in all Verdunmull. I hope we never see one.” Caedmon lowered his head as he thought about the possible devastation.
“I do not want to see any of them,” Zael said. “That is what I will hope for, old friend.”
Chapter 13
“The Awakened”
“Ancient mortal creatures will behold the glorious might imprisoned within and fear because they are wise and have witnessed it before. They can see beyond this realm.”
The Ikalreev Prophecies 8:9–10
Faolan rose out of his dreams and became aware of the sun’s warming rays on his face. It was a pleasant feeling, and it was soon accompanied by the sensation of being underneath a layer of bedding. His eyes fluttered open as they fought the sun’s brightness, and he took in his surroundings. He found himself in an unfamiliar room. There were stone walls decorated with lavish tapestries. Floral arrangements sat on a pair of end tables. He lay in an extravagant bed and looked around while trying to find anything that would give him an understanding of his location. His eyes locked on to the beautiful woman who was lying next to him in a neighboring bed. Faolan took in the sight of the stunning Ireli. Her face was so smooth, and her hair was such a vibrant red. After a moment of awe, he broke his stare and threw his sheets off. He sat up on the edge of his bed and looked around the room. A chair sat next to his bed, but no one was in it.
He stood up and quickly realized he was growing quite cold. He glanced down at himself and noticed he wore nothing but undergarments and wrappings. He spotted his Shadow Guardian uniform and weapons on another chair in the corner of the room. He rushed over to his clothes, hoping Ireli would not wake up. He threw on his clothes and secured his swords on his belt. He
sighed in relief when he looked over and saw Ireli still sleeping.
He glanced around again, though nothing identified his location, so he decided to go investigate and look for the others. He opened the door and peeked into the hallway. He did not see anyone and stepped out, shutting the door behind him. He thought for a moment about which way to go. All the doors lining the hallway were similar, and there were no signs, so he arbitrarily decided to walk down the hall to his left. He walked for a while as the hallway curved, and a spiral stone staircase revealed itself near the end of the hall. The stairway only went up, so he followed it. As he hoisted his body’s weight up the first steps, he felt the numerous wounds he had collected over the past couple of weeks. All corners of his body ached, though the sharper pains primarily stemmed from his most recent wounds. Each step produced a new wave of pain through his body as he slowly eased up the stairway.
When he saw the second floor rotate into view, a sigh of relief slipped from his mouth. He ascended to the second floor and waited at the top of the stairway to let the pain recede. Once he was ready, he continued forward as he noticed the right-side wall was lined with narrow slits. A faint smell of flowers filtered into the hall from the king’s garden below, and sunlight radiated through the narrow openings, dimly lighting the long hallway. As he passed the slim openings, he felt the cool wind on his skin, and a wide smile crossed his face. His mind drifted to his companions’ faces, and he wondered if he had been a good leader during their mission to Mor. He thought about the trip and tried to assess whether his decisions and actions had been reasonable. He walked the hallway as his mind calculated his past movements, over and over again. As the thoughts in his head played out, a jarring sound met his ears. A horrific scream ripped him from his thoughts, and the hair on his neck stood straight up.
Faolan tried to assess from which direction the scream had come. He looked forward, then turned around and looked back down the hallway. Was that Ireli?
A second scream rang out, and his attention was drawn to the nearest arrow slit. He peered through the gap in the cold stone walls and saw nothing unusual, but a tree blocked most of his view. He looked down the hallway and noticed a larger window. He moved toward it, needing a better view.
A wave of screams rose in the air, and adrenaline pumped through his veins as he wondered what was happening outside. He reached the large window, which provided him with a wide view of the northeastern residential area of Lesley. His eyes searched all over, but he could not find the source of the screams.
A second wave of screams sounded, and chills ran down his spine. Nothing was happening outside the window before him, and he grew agitated with the mixed signals. His ears were hearing something his eyes could not see. He tore himself from the window and continued down the hallway. He listened, but the screams did not fade away this time.
Faolan found a new window providing a view of the northern forge and trade district. He was shocked when what he saw matched what he heard. A massive dragon soared high above the buildings of Lesley, and his eyes widened in wonder.
“A Great-Horned dragon,” he gasped.
The dragon flew in tight circles above the city as its head craned downward and gazed at its prey below. Saliva coated its maw in anticipation, and as its name suggested, six massive horns rose from its head. The horns were in a single line, beginning at its nose and ending atop its skull. Its scales were a rich orange. The dragon’s tail was long, and its wingspan obscured the town in shadow. The dragon released a deep roar, and a wave of screams echoed.
Faolan felt the cold stone beneath him vibrating from the thunderous roar.
The dragon swooped down and raked its large claws through two buildings, shredding them into tinder. It flew high and then swooped down once more, ripping into a third building.
Screams flooded the air. The Great-Horned dragon swooped down a third time, but this time it landed on the main road of Lesley. The dragon pressed its body against the ground, and its huge lungs filled with air. The dragon’s head reeled back, and it released a roar so deep that no elf, human, or dwarf could hear it. The only evidence of the roar’s existence was the great shaking beneath their feet as the entire town of Lesley quaked under the infrasound vibrations.
Faolan felt the castle rising and falling beneath his feet as he grabbed onto the wall to keep from falling. The buildings closest to the dragon cracked and separated from their foundations and then crumbled into heaps of wood and stone. The dragon’s jaws closed, and the ground stopped shaking. The beast moved its head back and forth as it searched for prey to feast on.
Suddenly, vines erupted from the ground and sprang up all around the dragon. They lashed out at its vast wings and massive legs, gripping onto anything they could. The vines tightened and chained the beast to the ground. They thickened and strengthened their hold as the magic intensified.
Faolan watched in awe as the scene unfolded. He had never before seen this type of magic. He spotted Caedmon’s blue form racing toward the furious creature. The dragon flailed wildly and made every effort to sever the vines. Its sharp teeth ripped and tore them to pieces. When Caedmon neared the dragon, it heaved its head, horns first, at the wolf. The horns made contact, and the old guardian was lifted clear off his feet. His momentum carried him through a building, and he exited through its back wall, disappearing into a second building beyond. The strength in the vines weakened, and no new vines sprouted. The dragon tore through the remaining vines and was free from its chains.
Elven soldiers equipped with spears and pikes surrounded the dragon. Bowmen rained arrows down onto it from atop the inner wall, though its hard scales prevented any harm, and the arrows ricocheted off its armor. The dragon’s chops opened as saliva ran down its sharp teeth, blinded in its craving for blood and bones.
As Faolan watched the beast, he realized it was not a dragon species that hoarded gold. He could tell just by watching its behavior. A gold hoarder would not stand its ground against such odds because its hunger would not surpass its desire for self-preservation. A gold-hoarding dragon searched for its prize and leaves. It would not exhibit behavior like this dragon, standing its ground and craving flesh.
“A bone hoarder,” Faolan whispered anxiously.
The dragon swung its tail at its attackers and launched a line of soldiers trying to flank the ancient beast. Its razor-sharp teeth kept the frontal assault at bay; no elf dared to challenge the beast’s genetically superior reflexes housed within its thick neck. There they stood, dragon versus elves, power versus numbers, in a dance not seen for ages.
A line of flanking elves penetrated the dragon’s defense; their spears pierced deep into one of its hind legs. The dragon spun around with incredible agility, and its great tail dispatched two dozen soldiers as it turned. The soldiers disappeared into the surrounding buildings as their spears remained protruding out of the dragon’s hind legs. The dragon roared at the soldiers defying its defense. The attackers backed away, but the dragon refused to let them leave. They would be its trophies, and its eyes hungered for what anyone could guess.
Every step the soldiers took backward the dragon matched, inch by inch as it crept forward. The dragon’s mouth opened ever so slowly as it anticipated its first meal. Just as the dragon was about to spring at the tasty morsels, its lower jaw was pulled violently to the side, and its attention was averted from the elves as a thick vine wrapped around its mandible. The beast’s eyes followed the length of the vine all the way to its source, which was the hands of Caedmon. The old wolf guardian had returned. He pulled on the vine, and the dragon responded with a quick snap of its jaws. The vines were ferociously severed as its gaze became disturbing and intense, a predator stalking its prey.
The dragon was baring its teeth at Caedmon, but its concentration was broken when a look of puzzlement crossed its face and its neck craned backward. It could hear a sound foreign to its senses, and it tilted its head to the side in curiosity.
What it heard was the moani
ng of stressed wood. The dragon turned its attention toward the unfamiliar sound. The beast located the sound’s source on top of the castle’s wall: ballistae being loaded with giant bolts.
The dragon roared in rage and flapped its wings, quickly taking flight. It closed the distance in no time, and the beast swooped low while craning its head toward the ballistae. The attacker raked a ballista off the wall and flung it into the castle courtyard below. The beast maneuvered for a second attack and again swooped low, though this time as its descent came to an end, its head rose, and its eyes found Faolan’s image standing in the castle’s window. Its narrow pupils dilated, and the dragon suddenly became distressed.
One of the ballistae fired, and its bolt pierced straight through the dragon’s left wing. The attacker roared in pain, and it failed to recognize its changing flight path as it headed straight toward Faolan.
The young guardian saw the dragon’s new trajectory and sprinted down the hallway as quickly as he could manage. Pain radiated from his wounds as he labored to push forward. The window shattered, and the wall exploded behind him as the heavy impact shook the castle. Faolan lost his balance and fell hard onto his hands and knees. Dust and debris billowed around him, and he coughed as the air became thick with powdered stone.
He recovered from the dragon’s crash landing and picked himself up to turn and see the beast behind him. The creature was lying upside down on its back with shattered stone and glass strewn all around it. The dragon righted itself and growled as it shook the debris off its body. Its large head rose with a sudden movement, and the six large horns pierced up into the ceiling. The stone of the third floor collapsed onto the creature’s head, and the beast closed its eyes while bracing against the impacts. A hesitant moment persisted afterward when the stones stopped falling, and it reopened its eyes.
Verdunmull Page 17
