Dragon Fire

by Pedro L. Alvarez

  “Then, Galyan said to him, ‘You are not who fulfills the prophecy.’ His voice changed to a smooth tenor. ‘The commoner who shall rule Paraysia is still to come. The one of common blood told by prophecy shall dethrone you.’”

  Roimas spoke with a glint in his eyes and satisfaction in his voice.

  “Orsak laughed. ‘What are you babbling about, old man?’ he said. ‘Dethrone me? Only my son, my heir, will sit in my throne.’

  “Galyan said quietly as he straightened to his full height. ‘You shall never have a son. In fact, there shall never be a male born in your lineage.’ For a brief moment I thought Galyan had suddenly become younger. I am sure Orsak had the same thought.

  "’How dare you!" he shouted, his steps resounding through the hallway as he stomped up to Galyan’s face; their eyes glared at each other. Orsak expanded his chest and anger danced in his eyes. Galyan, his face carved with more than two centuries of life, let the King look into the blue of his eyes and let him see the truth: the vast emptiness of what lay ahead. Orsak called for the guards and ordered them to take Galyan and ‘rid this world of him.’

  “I stepped forward to protest and Orsak looked at me so intensely it was as if he were firing blazing arrows of rage at me. As the guards approached him, Galyan walked to me and put his hand on my face. He held my cheek as if he were a father saying a silent, final goodbye to a son. His hand felt calloused and warm. He smiled and the warmth in his hand intensified. As the heat increased my skin absorbed it and it spread. It spread with the flow of my blood into the very core of my heart—of my very soul. It was as if… it was unlike anything I had ever felt.

  “The guards grabbed hold of Galyan and as they pulled him away he said, ‘I bring a wedding gift for you, Orsak. You have no choice but to accept it. It shall be yours even if you refuse it.’ Orsak ordered the guards to halt and bring the wizard back to him.

  “‘One last trick, old man?’ the King asked. ‘For old time’s sake?’

  “Galyan nodded toward the hall’s far wall, grinned and said, ‘Hardly. Look there.’ A thick cane covered tightly in scaly dragon’s skin rested against the stone. Atop the cane sat a round, brilliant diamond with some sort of artifact encased in it. Orsak walked to it and held it in his large hand; his fingers wrapped around it comfortably. He turned to Galyan and asked him, ‘What is this?’”

  Looking intently in Delcan’s eyes, Roimas said, “Enclosed in the unbreakable diamond there is a skeleton key that glows with golden light. It is the key to Orsak’s heart—the heart he once had when young and when the truth was all he believed in. It is the key to his happiness—true happiness, untainted by desire. It is the key to the kingdom—the true potential of all that Paraysia can be. This is the key to the future’s fragile door. A thin, crystal door that you may walk through if you like, but you shall never reach the desired destination unless it is opened with this key. Only he who is to lead Paraysia into the future can wrap his hand around that key." He held his gaze on his son’s mesmerized face for a long moment then went on.

  “‘Foolishness’ is what Orsak yelled at Galyan. ‘My wedding has been delayed for an old man’s ranting and tired witchcraft. Remove him from my sight. Kill him at once and bring his head to me.’ As the guards led Galyan toward the dungeon, I placed a hand on King Orsak’s shoulder and turned him around.

  "’You have lost all sense, haven’t you?’ I said.

  "’My senses have never been clearer,’ he told me. ‘And if you do not stand beside me today, I expect you will stand outside the castle walls forever more.’

  "I did not think about my response. I said flatly and without hesitation, ‘Then I expect that is what I will do.’ He of course warned that I would be seen as a traitor and that I will be treated no differently than any other who had betrayed him. His voice indicated no concern; no friendship. ‘Do what you will,’ I said. ‘My life no longer belongs to you.’

  "I raced down the hallway after the guards and when I arrived at the dungeon the guards lay unconscious on the cold, stone floor, Galyan nowhere to be seen. I left the castle forever just as Orsak dragged Cyndia through his wedding ceremony and sat her on a throne. I was certain that I would return once I found Galyan. I searched for him for days. I rode through villages, looking, asking for him; expecting to find him in disguise, this time building a band of up-risers who would follow him to the castle’s gate. I even lost my way in the forest, crying out his name; hoping some creature would guide me to him or alert him of my search. I have not returned to the castle since and it was not until nearly twenty years later, the day you were born, that I saw Galyan again."

  Chapter Ten

  "Some left Orsak’s side after the wedding,” he said. “Others left in the days and weeks that followed. Each of them a traitor. Most travelled to Norsia or other kingdoms. Some hid in villages throughout Paraysia. It mattered not how far each of them ran, Orsak found them. He stretched his arms over the kingdom and found them. He found them with scouts who shook gold pieces in front of good people’s faces, and had them knifed through where they stood, without ceremony, without care of who watched. Farmers, fishermen, each wanting to build a new life without his eyes upon them, tired of the vile work for which he employed them.

  “There are still others who hid even deeper; those who hoped of reviving some sort of insurgency against Orsak. They make noise once every few years although they have been quiet for decades. But in recent months, now and then, old folks in Berest have whispered of activity in the caves that lie beyond the castle. Cave Dwellers, they are called.” Roimas shook his head. “I want no part in it.

  "I altered my name twice. I expect Orsak is still searching for me, or perhaps I am dead to him by now. Or he may assume I am out sailing the world. Whichever his belief, he has not found that I live still here in Paraysia, under his rule. And life has been good."

  Roimas stopped talking with certain finality in his tone and Delcan had an odd, frightening thought that these were the last words his father would ever speak. He had spoken for nearly an hour and his story had come to a close—his son now knew the truth—so there was nothing more to say. He spoke again just as the silence grew unnerving.

  "The autumn following her wedding to Orsak, Cyndia was with child. Orsak’s anticipation of the birth of a son sparked a short-lived hopefulness in the kingdom that perhaps the King’s heart would soften with the expectation of an heir. But the birth of his first and only child brought with it nothing but further repression and the death of the Queen.

  Cyndia died moments after the birth of a daughter named Kaira. Orsak denounced the child and made it known that he would marry again within a week. He married Ladine, another noble’s daughter. The hasty ceremony was ill attended. Orsak’s mind centered only on producing a son.”

  Roimas shook his head, as if watching the past pass before him and wanting to clear his head.

  "Two years passed and his new queen did not bear a child. Five years more, with the same result. In time, Orsak tired of Ladine and freed her to return to her father’s home. The prospect of his bloodline continuing to another generation became a tiresome delusion. And I suspect that for the first time, Galyan’s words resurfaced and danced in Orsak’s head."

  "As I understand it," Roimas resumed. "Orsak had kept Galyan’s cane out of sight in his chamber. After Ladine left the castle, he took hold of the thing and has since never released it. He carries it with him as a symbol, perhaps; or as a reminder of the curse thrown upon him by Galyan, hoping that somehow he could break it."

  “I wonder if he has tried to break open that diamond.” Roimas smiled at this last thought, knowing Galyan’s power and expecting Orsak had no way of breaking free of the prophecy.

  The night had brought with it a chill, pulling it behind like a long tail. The crickets sang around them.

  “Delcan,” Roimas said. “Why did you go to Castilmont?” The tone in his voice sounded like he already knew the answer.

  Delcan stood
and stepped away from Roimas. He turned and faced both his parents. “To change,” he said. “Change my life; and yours.” He looked at Roimas and Telias in turn. “I wish to do more with my hands and mind. I have a life filled with all that I would ever need. Yet, I want a life that opens my eyes to all the other things I have never known. I wanted to face the challenge; see if I could win the tourney. But I mostly wanted to see what lay beyond The Crossings and I wanted to be part of it. Be part of the kingdom. Make an impact in it.”

  "I left the castle and the knighthood for which my own father prepared me because Orsak had become all that we had once despised. And now, here you are, at his service, proudly displaying his colors."

  "Father, I—"

  "I met your mother not long after my exile and when we married I decided to erase those years from my life by settling here, the farthest from the castle I could go without entering the forest."

  "Father—"

  "I wish that I had any means by which to stop you, but I do not."

  Delcan stood with his head down, looking at his hands. "I’ll renounce my squire hood," he whispered.

  Roimas’s heart felt as if suddenly stung by the point of a dagger. He knew Delcan did not want to do surrender the squire hood; but he also knew that Delcan would if asked.

  "I’ll tell them that I did not compete fairly, or—"

  "No," Roimas shouted, standing up and taking hold of Delcan’s shoulders. "He will throw you in the dungeon if you do; or worse. You are in the right; there are few opportunities left for a young man in Paraysia.” Roimas sighed and his shoulders slumped. “And I know of your destiny’s relentlessness. This day would have come even if I had held you captive in a cage."

  "My destiny?” Delcan asked. “I do not understand.”

  "You will."

  “Father… you said Galyan returned from the forest when I was born.” Roimas nodded. “For what reason? And why did he go back into hiding?”

  “Galyan emerged from the forest to heal you—to make certain that you did not die.”

  “Why me?” Delcan whispered.

  Roimas turned and glanced back at Telias.

  Telias had heard Roimas tell this tale only once before, shortly before their wedding. Hearing it now a second time it sounded as if it were a story told about someone who no longer existed.

  She walked toward father and son and placed a hand gently on Roimas’s shoulder. He looked at her lovingly and she smiled in return.

  Roimas placed his hand over Telias’s and turned back to Delcan. “There is a great destiny ahead of you,” he said. “I have tried to shield you from it all these years. Galyan breathed life into you that night then walked back into the arms of the Shadows, never to be seen by my eyes since. I know not how long it will be before he emerges again.”

  “Father, what is the destiny that lies ahead for me?”

  Roimas hesitated and Telias stepped forward.

  “You are to leave a deep mark on this kingdom, son,” she said. “The wizard said it would be so and as his words become true you will discover what that mark will be.” She placed her arms around him and said no more.

  As she held him tightly she recalled his birth and the hours during which death first tapped on, then violently threw itself against, their door, scratching for Delcan’s newborn soul. She relived behind closed eyes the unexpected visitor from the mountains and the way he had held her son in his arms, silently gazing into the infant’s sleeping face; the gentleness with which he had whispered foreign words in the baby’s ear; and the orange-red mist that flowed from his mouth like dragon fire, covering Delcan’s face, causing the child to open his eyes and cry out. She had wept time and again that evening—first with fear, then with relief and joy. Galyan had rocked and whispered to Delcan, breathing life into him, bringing him back from the shadows that persisted in taking him away.

  The child would bring balance to the kingdom, the wizard had said, and tonight she saw for the first time the man Galyan had seen in the newborn nineteen years before.

  The meal she prepared for them that night was to be the last Delcan would have under his parents’ roof.

  The next day, in the warmth of the morning light, Delcan embraced his mother tightly and firmly shook his father’s hand. He swung himself onto the stallion and with a bright smile on his face rode off toward the village to meet Sandrion.

  "Do you believe he knows what he is doing?" Telias asked her husband as they raised their hands in a wave.

  "He is following his heart. And he is following the path laid out before him."

  "Will he suffer, as you did?"

  "More," Roimas responded. "But if he endures… when… he will be King."

  Telias looked at him with questioning eyes, realizing that those words were his own and did not come from his gift of foretelling. It was the word “if” that sent a cold shiver from the bottom of her foot to the top of her spine.

  “The Spirit watches over him,” Roimas said and walked back inside.

  When Roimas and Telias closed the cabin door behind them, the King’s guards, Farco and Licius, walked their horses quietly from behind the foliage that marked the entrance to the forest. Once past the cabin’s ear range, they mounted and galloped toward the castle with much news to report.

  Chapter Eleven

  Delcan and Sandrion waved to the small, cheering crowd that formed at the village square as they trotted out of Berest.

  "Some have been asking questions about us," Sandrion said once they were on the road. "The King’s guards."

  "Why? What did they want to know?"

  "They asked where you lived; how long we have shared a friendship; how long have the village people known us?"

  "And you are certain they were the King’s guards?" Delcan asked.

  "Oh, yes. They compensated those who shared information with gold pieces. You can not find gold pieces anywhere but in the King’s vault."

  "I doubt many of the villagers spoke freely."

  "Oh, they did," said Sandrion. "We were the subject of conversation long before the two guards came tossing their gold around, since we are now squires and local heroes. Besides, a few coins will loosen any man’s tongue. I do not understand what good it would do for the King to obtain such information about us from local folks, such as where we live."

  "And who are our parents?"

  Sandrion looked at Delcan noticing the sudden dread that passed like a dragon’s shadow over Delcan’s face.

  "What is the worry?” Sandrion said. “I have only my mother. She is of no consequence to them. And your parents… to them, your father is nothing but a farmer. Only I know anything of his past, and what I know is very little."

  Delcan’s face seemed suddenly careworn and frightful. “I told the King my father is dead,” he said.

  Sandrion stopped and considered this. “Worry not,” he said after a few moments of internal deliberation. “If to them your father has passed, there is no reason for them to ask about him.”

  "I pray it is so," Delcan said. "I pray it is so."

  They trotted on. Although he hid it well from Delcan, the farther away they got from Berest the heavier became the worry that settled on Sandrion’s mind.

  When they arrived at Castilmont, the castle seemed very different to Delcan. He and Sandrion passed under its gates unchallenged—no questions asked of them; no arrows pointed in their direction. Now under the King’s service they had license to enter the castle walls without prior consent from Malden.

  But it was not the sudden access to the sounds of unrestricted laughter and the scent of inviting tastes—the promises of fulfillment and plenty found nowhere else in the kingdom—that made the experience surreal. Castilmont held captive within its guarded walls unseen memories. Spirits, long gone, flowed through the fortress. They were the ghosts of his father’s shrouded past; the many bellowing deaths and muffled cries; the concealed pain of tortured heroes and slaughtered dreams; and the promises drowned beneath the
delusions of devious kings.

  None of these things had ever surfaced in Delcan’s mind before this moment. Last night the kingdom had changed for him. The entire world seemed colored in a gray hue; the greens and blues were gone. And the shrouds that hid Castilmont’s gloom were now transparent.

  "Delcan. Are you well? You seem lost," Sandrion asked.

  "I am."

  The morning shadows gave the castle walls an ancient look. Delcan looked all about him as his horse carried him toward the stable, taking note of the time marked upon the walls.

  "I feel lost in this place. The walls; they feel like giants looking down on me."

  "This is where we are meant to be," Sandrion said thoughtfully, with a hint of pride and something else—caution, perhaps.

  Delcan looked at his friend and welcomed a sense of relief, small as it may be, that settled within him as he realized that Sandrion was a part of the destiny his father proclaimed to be his. He smiled to himself, thankful not to be alone.

  Licius did most of the talking. He and Farco met Malden behind the stables just as Delcan and Sandrion entered the castle.

  "He is not dead," Licius reported, his back resting lightly against the wooden wall. The smell of the horses seeped through the gaps in the wood. "The boy’s father breathes as deep and strong a breath as I."

  "And you are certain of this?" asked Malden.

  "We saw him, and the boy’s mother, with our own eyes.”

  "So he deceived to the King," Malden said, tracing a long scar on the side of his face with the tips of his fingers. “Why?” He paused and pensively watched a beetle make its way around a stone on its way to his shoe. He crushed the insect nonchalantly under his boot and set his gaze on Licius. "What did you find about this farmer, Raisan?"

  "There is no farmer by that name in Berest," Licius said now standing rigidly. "There never has been." He waited until Malden asked him to explain further, delighting in the suspense he thought he was creating.

  "The boy is not a good liar. Did he truly believe that knowing his name and his village would not be sufficient to disprove his father’s death? What more?" Malden demanded, looking at the guard with contempt, his eyes now restless with impatience.