The Dragon's Champion

by Sam Ferguson

  “After many years living under the fear of the book’s dark magic, Hiasyntar’Kulai, the Father of the Ancients, understood what had to be done. He had come to understand that the book’s magic did not reach out to the minds of men the same as it called to the minds of dragons. He knew that men would have to guard the book, as it could not be destroyed and dragons could fall victim to its charms. He selected from among the human kind a man of great integrity, a man of strength, character, and an unyielding sense of duty and honor, to become the Keeper of Secrets.”

  “You can stop there for a second,” Al said. “What have you learned, boy?”

  Erik thought for a moment, rehashing the words he had read over the previous few hours and combining them with this new passage. “The Ancients are a race of dragons that were here before the Old Gods. When the first beings appeared in this part of Terramyr, the Ancients helped watch over them.”

  “And who were the first beings in this part of the world?” Al asked. Erik hated being quizzed like this, but he had been hungry for answers, and now he was getting his fill of them.

  “Dwarves were the first beings created by the Old Gods to dwell here. They built Roegudok Hall and became very close with the Ancients. Then, humans, orcs, goblins, and elves came as well.”

  “Very good, my boy. What else have you learned?”

  “The Ancients protected the land from the demons and Shadowfiends in that time. There were many battles, most of them minor, until the rise of Nagar the Black. He must have been a very powerful wizard.”

  “He wasn’t just a wizard, boy, he was a necromancer. The book you’re reading now won’t describe the magic that Nagar’s Secret contains, but my grandfather was there. He saw it, and he told my father about it. Then my father told me and my brother about it. Nagar the Black discovered how to harness powers of the underworld that were so great he could bring dragons back from the dead, only when he raised them from death they were not the same as they were in life. The magic twisted them, and made them utterly evil. They were stronger than living dragons, and a lot more cunning. It took everything the Middle Kingdom had to stop them.”

  “That’s awful,” Erik said.

  “And that ain’t the half of it,” Al groused. “The magic had the power to reach into a man’s heart and pull out the wickedness that hides there. No man is all good. There is always some amount of evil in a man, just usually we learn to control it as we grow older. We learn the difference between right and wrong and choose to try to be good. But this magic, it preyed on the shadows in men’s hearts. Thus, Nagar used it to warp and control not only the dead that he called back from the underworld, but also the living.” Al shuffled over to a chair and flopped down, staring at the floor. “It used man’s greed and jealousy against him. The war turned brother against brother, and father against son. That is why it is so important that Nagar’s Secret never be found again by those who would try to use its power. If it is ever found again, we will have no chance of stopping it.”

  “What about the magic of Allun’rha, can’t it defeat the dark magic?” Erik asked.

  “It did once, but no one knows how it was done. The wizard who discovered the power died using it to save us all from darkness. There are some references in obscure texts about a book that is said to hold the writings of Allun’rha, The Illumination, but no one knows where that book is. The Ancients never found it, and the Keeper of Secrets has never found it. It is lost, if it ever existed at all.”

  “Al, where did the Ancients go?” Erik asked.

  Al looked up from his chair and smiled half-heartedly. “Go to page one-thousand and sixty-eight. Read the last paragraph aloud.”

  Erik flipped through the tome until he found the page and scanned down to the last paragraph on the page. “Two hundred years after the Battle of Hamath, the Father of the Ancients lay dying, being called to the underworld by the dark forces within Nagar’s Secret. He knew that the book would continue to warp dragons as long as they remained in the Middle Kingdom, so he decreed that all of the Ancients would leave. After all of the others had left, the Father of the Ancients took a group of devoted followers into his lair. He granted them the gift of True Sight, so that when one Keeper of Secrets died, or became unworthy of his calling, they might select another in his stead.”

  “No one knows where they went,” Al said with a sigh. “Some say they flew over the oceans and made a new home on the far away continents of our ancestors. Others say that they have all died out, killed at last by the book’s terrible power. I don’t know for sure where they went, or if they still live, but I doubt they will ever come back. As long as Nagar’s Secret remains, they can not return. Tu’luh and Nagar may have lost the Battle of Hamath, but it appears that their cunning may prove to get the better of us in the end. If the book is found and opened, there is no magic that can counter it, and without the Ancients to help us fight off the Shadowfiends that would swarm to the book’s call, the whole of our kingdom would crumble in the span of two months, maybe less.”

  “The people that attacked Lord Lokton, and that warlock that came after me, they are trying to find Nagar’s Secret, aren’t they?” Erik asked.

  “Yes, Erik, I think they are,” Al said with a somber nod. The dwarf hopped out of the chair and snatched a brown leather tome from the second shelf of a tall bookshelf that spanned the entire wall. He walked over and thunked the book down in front of Erik. “Master Lepkin will return soon. He will have more information for us when he returns, but until then, read as much of this book as you can.”

  Erik picked it up and read the title aloud. “‘Shadow and Light’, written by Misgerahh’tanah Sit’marihu.” Erik paused after he stumbled through the difficult name on the cover. “It sounds a lot like your name,” Erik said to Al.

  “That’s because the book was written by my grandfather,” Al replied.

  CHAPTER 8

  Lady Dimwater threw the old tome to the ever growing pile of discarded books on her desk. She leaned back in her high-backed arm chair and sighed heavily. Her hands went up and she rubbed her temples in circular motions to dim her headache. It didn’t help. She snapped her fingers and a small goblet of absinthe appeared on her desk before her. She took a drink and allowed the liquid to course down her throat unimpeded. When the goblet was drained she leaned forward and pointed to the bookshelf across the room. Five books removed themselves from the middle shelf and floated over to her. They neatly arranged themselves in a pile to her right, with the spines facing her so she could see the titles.

  She examined each title, looking for any hint that a book may contain the information she sought. The first book, The Life and Times of Adamus Garr, was discarded immediately from the pile. The second book, Arts of the Soul Thief, was taken from the pile and set in front of her. The other three, Flight of the Krilo, Ician Barriers of Magic, and Forging the Saddhumah, were all sent back to the shelf with a wave of her hand.

  Determined, she opened the book she had set aside and searched through the pages. As with many other books written in ages past, it was hard to glean the information she needed from this book because there was a lot of content added to it to make the book’s true message harder to understand. This practice was common, she knew. The masters of the past had, in their wisdom, decided to shroud their knowledge and secrets in an effort to keep unworthy, lesser minds, from discovering the great powers of the arcane arts. But, Lady Dimwater was not one with a lesser mind. She picked apart the riddles, saw through the misleading phrases, and was able to make short work of understanding each of the tomes in her possession. She had always had a great gift for deciphering the codes in ancient tomes. She was even able to read the language of the Ancients themselves, and learn from those great sages.

  Finally, she found what she was looking for. Buried within the text of Arts of the Soul Thief, there was an obscure reference to Nagar the Black, and Tu’luh. She followed the clues in that passage until she found instructions for several rituals tha
t, once enacted, would help the followers of Tu’luh find Nagar’s Secret and unlock its power.

  A knock on her door forced broke her concentration. The door opened without her consent and in walked Master Orres. “Lady Dimwater, I have been looking for you.”

  “I was unaware of that,” Lady Dimwater lied. She stealthily closed the book and weaved a spell of invisibility over it, to keep it hidden from Master Orres.

  “I’m afraid I have some disturbing news,” Master Orres said.

  “What is that?” Lady Dimwater asked. Mentally she prepared a charm spell. She knew that if Orres was indeed a traitor, as Master Lepkin suspected, then it was Lepkin’s right to enact a punishment. So, if Orres proved to have ill intentions, she had decided to capture his mind and hold him in a magical cell until Lepkin could return with the proof that the law required.

  “Janik is gone,” he said.

  “What do you mean?” Lady Dimwater pressed.

  “Over the weekend, he fled Kuldiga Academy.” Master Orres closed the door and walked in to sit across from Dimwater. “I am afraid he may be working against us.”

  Dimwater’s eyebrows arched.

  “What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” Orres said with a glare more fierce than she had ever seen before. Lady Dimwater nodded in assurance and waited for him to continue. “The other night, I was searching Kuldiga Academy for Nagar’s Secret.”

  “What? Why would you do that? You have no right.”

  “I know,” Orres said as he glanced to the floor. “It wasn’t my choice, believe me.” He fidgeted with his thumbs in his lap for a moment before continuing. “I received word that Lokton Manor had been attacked by a powerful warlock. I was told that Master Lepkin was there, protecting Erik.”

  “That does not explain why you sought after that which is forbidden,” Dimwater said. The warning was apparent in her tone.

  “The message was sent to me under the seal of House Lokton,” Orres replied. “The message said that Lepkin was charging me with retrieving Nagar’s Secret from his study and hiding it. Master Lepkin believed that the warlock’s assault may have been a ploy to distract him from guarding the book.” Orres looked up at her with determined eyes. “You and I both know how important Erik is to the salvation of this realm. If he was lost, it would have proved as much a death sentence for us all as if Nagar’s Secret itself had been taken and opened.” Orres cleared his throat.

  “So, what did you do?” Dimwater pressed.

  “I called upon my three bodyguards to do the task. They could not find the book. They returned to me empty-handed, so I sent them to look again. Shortly after I sent them the second time I noticed a light coming from one of the library windows. Before I could reach the room, I heard shouting and screaming. I could tell that there was a battle going on. I reached the room too late. My three bodyguards were dead. Books and papers were strewn about the place with blood slung all over. After I saw that, I went to Janik’s room, fearing for his life.”

  “Janik is not put down so easily,” Dimwater put in.

  “I know,” Orres said with a sober nod. “That is the problem.”

  Dimwater leaned forward, planting her elbows on the desk and lacing her fingers together. “That is when you discovered that Janik had fled?”

  “Exactly,” Orres replied. “He had obviously been to his room. The door was open, and you and I both know he never leaves his door open. A wardrobe was also left open and his pack was missing.”

  “That only indicates that he fled, but not that he is working against us.”

  “When I returned to my room, I found some things missing from my safe box. My journal was taken. It outlines not only personal details of my life, but also talks about many secret things of the kingdom.” Orres slapped a hand to his forehead and leaned forward. “I was a fool to write those things down, even in a book guarded by magic. It is only a matter of time before someone of magical ability is able to either undo the magical locks or decipher the password for it.”

  Lady Dimwater thought for a moment. She had known Master Orres for a very long time, most of her life in fact. She knew when he was hiding something, and this time he wasn’t. He was telling the truth. He was not a traitor, as Lepkin feared. Dimwater had always known Orres to be too quick to react in some situations. Often he overreacted to most situations, as was confirmed by Orres’ quick readiness to draw swords against Lepkin just last week. Someone had abused Orres’ trust and manipulated his overzealous sense of duty to try to find the book, she knew. Whoever had sent the message had lied. She would have to discover who that was.

  “There’s more,” Master Orres said. “It isn’t just the journal that is missing.”

  *****

  “Mr. Stilwell, I am at your service,” Lord Lokton said. The two clasped wrists in greeting, but Lord Lokton could see that Mr. Stilwell was far from smiling. Dried tears and caked dust stained the man’s cheeks. Sir Duvall was with him, looking as grave as the face of death itself. “What is wrong?”

  “Lord Lokton,” Mr. Stilwell began with his head down. “I apologize for bringing more grief to House Lokton than has already come this past weekend.”

  “It’s alright. Just tell me what has happened and we will put it right.”

  “My cousin, the magistrate, is dead.” Mr. Stilwell looked up to Lord Lokton’s wide eyes. “A knife was found in his back.” Mr. Stilwell pulled a cloth from a leather bag and held it out for Lord Lokton. “The knife of Lord Cedreau’s eldest son was deep in my cousin’s back. There were many other stab wounds as well, all made by the same knife as far as I could tell.”

  Lord Lokton took the cloth and slowly unrolled it until he saw the weapon. The hilt was black with gold inlay fashioned to look like braids on the handle. The short crossguard was silver, with a single ruby embedded in the center of the crossguard on both sides of the dagger. The blade was crusted with blood. The words For Eldrik were engraven at the base of the blade. Lord Lokton knew for certain that it was the same dagger he had personally seen given to Eldrik Cedreau during the youth’s Konn Deta several years ago. Lord Lokton ran his thumb over the blade and discovered that the tip had been blunted, with part of the blade chipped off. He held it up to Mr. Stilwell with a questioning look.

  “The dagger was embedded in my cousin’s spine. The blade was damaged in the bone on the final strike. I believe that is why Eldrik left the knife. It was too hard for him to free it, so he fled the scene.”

  “It seems odd for one as cunning as any Cedreau is to leave evidence behind,” Lord Lokton said.

  “I was hunting with Sir Duvall when we saw a column of smoke rising above the trees,” Mr. Stilwell said. “We rushed to see what was going on and found my cousin’s house aflame. I went in and was able to get my cousin out of the house before the flames took him.” Mr. Stilwell choked on the lump in his throat and clenched his jaw. It was obvious that he couldn’t speak of the event anymore.

  “Sir Duvall, tell me the rest,” Lord Lokton instructed.

  Sir Duvall nodded grimly. “We had thought that the smoke had been the reason the magistrate was slumped over on his table, but once we had him outside we saw the truth of it. There were many stab wounds in the man’s back, and as Mr. Stilwell has already said, the dagger was stuck in his spine. It is my belief that when Eldrik realized he could not free his dagger he tried to cover his tracks by torching the house. I believe the fire was started using one of the oil lamps from the wall.”

  Lord Lokton nodded and stood quiet for a long time. He placed a hand on Mr. Stilwell and squeezed the man’s shoulder. “I swear, by the honor of House Lokton, that I will investigate this. The guilty will be found and punished.”

  Mr. Stilwell’s head jerked up suddenly. His eyes flashed with anger. “An investigation, what do you mean you will investigate? I have brought the evidence to you. I have a witness here. My word may not be good enough on its own, as I am not a lord or a knight, but the word of Sir Duvall and the dagger
should suffice to confirm my claim.”

  “I know this is hard, but a dagger is not enough. Someone could have stolen it and used it in the hopes of throwing us off of the real murderer’s trail.”

  “Shut up!” Mr. Stilwell roared. He wrenched free of Lord Lokton’s hand and pointed an accusing finger at him. “This is your fault! I told you to pay heed to the omen at Erik’s Konn Deta, we all did! Then, the warlock came with the prophecy, but you didn’t heed that either.”

  “Warlocks twist the-”

  “Enough,” Mr. Stilwell raged. “You will see. When your son puts a dagger in your back then maybe you will open your eyes. You had a chance to turn the prophecy, but it is too late now!”

  Lord Lokton turned to Sir Duvall. “Where do your loyalties lie?” he asked the knight. Lord Lokton noticed Braun stepping into view behind the two men, a sword in one hand and an axe in the other.

  “My loyalties lie with House Lokton,” Sir Duvall assured with a nod.

  “Then arrest Mr. Stilwell,” Lokton ordered. Sir Duvall hesitated, but only for a moment before grabbing Mr. Stilwell’s left arm.

  “This is an outrage!” Mr. Stilwell shouted. His right hand dropped to his sword belt but Braun was there before the blade could be loosed. The massive man seized Mr. Stilwell and held him completely still as Lord Lokton undid Mr. Stilwell’s swordbelt and removed the weapon.

  “I can not have you going out to enact vengeance that may not be just upon Lord Cedreau’s son,” Lord Lokton said. “Even if the accusation is true, it would start a bloodbath between our houses. The kingdom is weak enough as it is. It does not need two of its nobles waging a war of their own instead of guarding the king as they should.”