The Dragon's Champion

by Sam Ferguson

  Jerutho’s face turned red. “You can’t possibly control such a spell! It is beyond your grasp.”

  Lady Dimwater flicked her finger at Jerutho and one of the invisible flames licked his face, making the skin burn intensely. “What is your opinion now?” she asked. “Does the spell seem to be beyond my grasp?”

  “But, that spell can only be cast by a Shadowfiend!” Jerutho howled as he clutched his face.

  “So they tell me,” Lady Dimwater said with a sly smile. She finished Jerutho with another flick of her finger. Then she turned her attention on the rest of the courtyard.

  Blacktongues had overtaken all but a handful of the men she had charmed. She worked fast, sending the flames around the charmed men, protecting them from the Blacktongues. The fire grew more intense with each new victim it claimed. Soon it swallowed the rest of the Blacktongues and only the few charmed soldiers remained. The fire extinguished itself, as it had no more fuel to use.

  Lady Dimwater slowly sank to her knees, breathing heavily. She called the charmed soldiers over to her. She could hear the clanking of armor coming toward her as the soldiers rushed to obey.

  “What can we do, milady?” one of the soldiers asked.

  “Carry me back to the front gate, where my magical portal stands. I must flee.”

  “Yes My lady,” the soldier said as he hefted her into his thick, muscular arms. The other soldiers formed a protective ring around Dimwater as shouts erupted from inside the castle keep. A howl drowned out the shouting for a moment, and then died down. Lady Dimwater perked up and looked around the man carrying her to see the door. She exhaled only when Silverfang leapt through the doorway. Blood streaked across the animal, some was undoubtedly its own, she knew. The beast bounded up and placed an amulet in her waiting hand.

  Lady Dimwater pulled the amulet up and smiled weakly at the sight of Lord Hischurn’s blood on the golden image of a ram. “The traitor is dead,” she said to no one in particular. She waved her hand and Silverfang was dismissed back to his home plane.

  An arrow took one of the soldiers in her escort down to the ground. The shaft protruded from the man’s back. A hail of arrows assailed them as archers poured out of the keep. Lady Dimwater was too weak to stop the arrows. She reached up and grabbed the face of the man that carried her.

  “I need to get home,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop running, even if you are hit with an arrow.”

  “I won’t stop milady,” the man promised. At that instant another man in the escort turned and leapt behind the man carrying Dimwater, taking an arrow in the chest and buying Dimwater a few additional precious seconds.

  As they passed through the gateway two more men fell out of the escort. Lady Dimwater felt a sudden jolt and the man carrying her lurched forward a bit. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he had been struck. She thought it was over, but true to his word, the man didn’t stop running. He reached the magical portal and shoved Dimwater inside. He then turned around and spread himself over the portal, ensuring that no arrows could follow Dimwater through it.

  The blinding light of the portal passed in seconds and Dimwater found herself lying on the floor of her study. She hoped she would be safe enough to rest and recover. She barely managed to summon Silverfang before darkness clouded her vision and she slipped into unconsciousness.

  *****

  “Why have you asked to speak with me, Marlin?” the prelate asked.

  Marlin regarded his superior with respect. The energy of the man’s aura was intense, almost blinding in fact, as the prelate had just finished meditating in his private chamber. “Forgive me for disturbing you, but I must speak with you about Erik.”

  “I heard he actually made it through the gauntlet,” the prelate said evenly.

  “Yes, he did. He also made it back through in order to shut off the gauntlet,” Marlin replied.

  “Most impressive,” the prelate commented. “I have not seen nor heard of the likes of his power in all my years at the temple.”

  “That is why I must speak with you,” Marlin persisted. “We can not allow Erik to take the Exalted Test of Arophim.”

  “Good heavens, Marlin, why not?” the prelate demanded. “Do you have any idea what gathers against us right now outside these temple walls? Do you understand that Nagar’s Secret is being sought after by our enemies?”

  “With respect,” Marlin began. “The boy is indeed powerful, but he has no control over it. The exalted test will rip him apart.”

  “Nonsense,” the prelate countered. “The boy has a pure enough spirit, I’ve seen it. The test will find him worthy of the gift.”

  “I must remind you that the test does not simply look inside and find a person pure or impure. It also tests the limits of that person’s natural powers. Erik has a great gift. In time he may learn to control it, but if we rush him into this his power will be unleashed in full. It would be a miracle if the experience only made him mad, but I fear it will tear him apart.”

  “Your fears are irrelevant, Marlin,” the prelate replied. “The boy must take the test. There is no other way for him to become the Champion of Truth. You know this, Marlin. Use your head.” The prelate walked forward and poked Marlin in the chest, hard. “I am sorry that you have grown fond of this boy, but he has a destiny of his own. He must be allowed to fulfill it or we will all die.”

  “What if he dies?” Marlin asked.

  “Then he is not the right one,” the prelate replied soberly. “Men have come before who have failed the exalted test. They were also killed. Why do you think I allow this?” the prelate demanded. Marlin said nothing. “I allow it because small sacrifices must be made in order to save the whole of the kingdom. This boy must take the test. If he has power as great as you say and he dies, then maybe it is just as well that he is not alive when the power of the book is unleashed on us all.”

  “He is just a boy,” Marlin replied. “He doesn’t understand the things that are happening.”

  “Alright Marlin,” the prelate said quietly. “If you don’t want the boy to pass through the exalted test, find me another candidate. You and I both know that the Champion of Truth must be named in order for us to have any chance of overcoming the forces of darkness that are massing against us. The boy is our best hope right now. He will take the test, even if he doesn’t want to.”

  “Forgive me, but I can not allow this to happen,” Marlin said. The prelate turned away for a moment. His energy coursed yellow and orange. Marlin knew the prelate was becoming very angry. Orange was the color of anger. “I gave my word that I would not allow him to be tested unless he chose the test of his own free will,” Marlin explained. “I must act in accordance with temple laws.”

  “That was a promise you had no right to give,” the prelate said. The orange energy grew brighter.

  “The Ancients commanded us to never subject any to the test unless the candidate willingly chose to go through it and was prepared. I am afraid that Erik will not choose to go through the test, and even if he did choose it there is no way I can prepare him for it in days. His power will consume him.”

  “You will do as I tell you to do,” the prelate replied. “The boy will go through the test. That is final. I am willing to accept the risks to him because the risk to us all is much greater. The commandments of the Ancients must bend from time to time.”

  “I can not let that stand,” Marlin replied evenly.

  “Watch yourself Marlin, I am still Prelate here. I will not tolerate dissent.”

  *****

  “Is something wrong?” Erik asked Marlin when he entered the training room. Erik could see the tired expression on Marlin’s face. He knew there was something nagging at him.

  “Nothing I can’t figure out for myself,” Marlin replied. “Don’t worry about me right now. We have another challenge for you today.”

  Erik nodded. He was tired of the challenges. The past week and a half had been more grueling and taxing than any one month he had spent with
Master Lepkin at Kuldiga Academy. Erik waited on the stool as a slew of temple guards filtered into the room. Each of them carried rattan swords.

  “What is this?” Erik asked.

  “There is one last task that you must learn before the test,” Marlin said. “I will explain this one plainly. There are twenty temple guards. All of them are armed with rattan swords. You must select fifteen of them. Once you have made the selection, the fifteen chosen guards will leave the room. The other five will remain in this room with you.”

  “What is the catch?” Erik asked.

  “Fifteen of them have been instructed to attack you, and the other five have been instructed not to attack you. After you have chosen and dismissed fifteen guards, the five remaining guards will reveal themselves. If the five that remain are the correct guards, the ones who have not been instructed to attack you, then you pass the trial. But if even one of the five remaining guards has been instructed to attack you, you fail that trial.”

  “Is that it?” Erik asked. He sensed that there was more.

  “If any of the five remaining guards are the wrong guards, they will attack you with their rattan swords. You are not wearing any protective armor, and you have no sword, so this would be a grave mistake on your part. You may defeat the guard in combat only by making him fall to his back or stomach.”

  “If one of the remaining guards is the correct guard, may he help defend me?” Erik asked.

  “No, but he may give his sword to you.” Marlin walked toward the door and folded his arms. “Remember, if you choose wrong, the guards will attack you with full force. They will stop only once you are on your back. Choose wisely. You may begin when you are ready, and take your time. No guard will attack until after the fifteen have been dismissed.”

  Erik sighed. He tried to harness his power and search out the room around him. First he checked to see if all of the guards were real. They were. Then he checked to see if Marlin was really telling the truth and standing by the door. He was. There was no lie in the instructions. There was no trick with the number of soldiers. The trial was as straightforward as Marlin had promised. There was no magic to defeat here. Erik had only to look into the hearts of the guards.

  Erik concentrated his mental energy, trying to discern the intent of each guard. He looked in their glazed eyes. He tried to feel their intent with his mind, but nothing worked. He studied all of the guards for more than three hours before he made his first selection. The selected guard bowed his head and rushed out of the room. Erik hoped he hadn’t just made a mistake.

  The process continued painfully slowly. It took Erik six hours to select the fifteen guards he wanted to dismiss. Once he had each of them selected five stood before him. He prepared his body for a fight if need be, all the while praying to the Gods that he had chosen right. Rattan swords were made to be non-lethal, but they could easily pound him into oblivion in the hands of these guards, he knew.

  One guard fell to his knees, dropping his rattan sword on the ground in front of him. Erik let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. The other four suddenly rushed forward, hacking and slashing their rattan swords at him.

  “Sword!” Erik shouted as he somersaulted away from the four attacking him. The kneeling guard slid his sword to Erik. Erik jumped to his feet and launched the best defense he could. He never connected with any of the other guards. He was on his back in less than ten seconds, squirming around on the floor. Welts and bruises were already forming where he had been struck by the guards.

  “Enough,” Marlin shouted to the guards. They all instantly backed away from the boy and the other fifteen returned to the room. “Erik, I am sorry to do this to you, but there are still two hours left in today’s training session. We will repeat this trial as soon as you can stand.”

  Marlin walked over to Erik and located the areas of the boy’s aura that glowed red. The priest hovered his hand over the red spots and sent his own energy, green energy, into the boy’s aura. The green slowly pushed the red away and healed the boy’s hurts. When Erik’s aura had been repaired, Marlin stood up and pulled Erik to his feet.

  “How did you do that?” Erik asked.

  “It is a healing method that can only be taught to those with the gift of True Sight,” Marlin replied. “Perhaps if you take the test I can teach it to you.” Erik nodded his head. Marlin took the rattan sword away from Erik. “I will need to give this back. Also, you should know that the guards have different assignments based on the trial attempt. In other words, a different five will be friendly to you this round.”

  “This is going to be a long night,” Erik muttered softly.

  CHAPTER 11

  An ear-splitting shriek ripped Lady Dimwater’s eyes open. Her vision was fuzzy, but she sensed that Silverfang was standing guard over her. The shriek came again. She rubbed her eyes and struggled to get to her knees. She was still lying on the floor of her study, where she had lost consciousness after battling Jerutho.

  “Silverfang, what is it?” she asked. The wolf didn’t answer. It stood calmly next to her. It nuzzled her side, as if to comfort her. She pet the wolf reassuringly and clumsily stood on her feet. She snapped her fingers and a crevasse of water appeared in the air before her, along with a simple glass. She took the items and filled the glass. She drained it quickly and repeated the process until the crevasse was empty. The shriek came again. She put a hand to her head and moaned.

  It was the call of the nighthawk, she realized. Her vision became clear and she forced through her weariness, running to the window. She looked up to the sky and saw the magical bird. It was almost the size of a dragon, with wings of gold and purple feathers. Its beak was turquoise, and even from her window she could see the golden eyes looking straight back at her. As the bird circled her tower it left a trail of dazzling colors, sparkling as glitter in the afternoon sunlight.

  She looked down to the courtyard and saw many apprentices out for their afternoon lunch. None of them noticed the bird, but then that was to be expected. The nighthawk was only visible to the recipient of its call. No one else could see or hear it, not even the other wizard-professors in Kuldiga Academy.

  Months ago, Lady Dimwater suggested to Lepkin that he should take the spell with him, in case he ever had need of her. He had laughed aloud when she had offered him the spell, she remembered. But she had made him promise to take the parchment with the instructions for casting the spell. She was relieved that he had apparently listened to her, but she shuddered to think what danger may have forced him to use it. She hoped that she would be able to help, despite her weakened state.

  She quickly weaved a spell in front of her and called the nighthawk down to her window. As the bird lighted on the stone window sill, it shrank to the size of a normal hawk. It looked at her strangely for a moment and then relayed its message to her. Mental images of an arrow piercing Lepkin’s chest appeared in Lady Dimwater’s mind. She felt her heart break at that moment. She fell to her knees, overcome with grief. The next image brought with it the pain that Lepkin felt as he forced himself to concentrate through the pain of the arrow. Dimwater placed a hand to her chest and shed a tear, as though she had been the one struck.

  She almost feared the rest of the nighthawk’s message, but it came anyway. Lady Dimwater saw visions of light and fire as Lepkin turned into a fierce dragon and battled a warlock and a horde of Blacktongues. She was shocked. She had not known that Lepkin was Dragon-born.

  Lady Dimwater pushed that revelation aside and focused on the message. She didn’t want to miss anything. She was relieved to see that he was alive. Her heart danced at his victory, but her happiness was short lived. The next images came of the wound in his chest. She saw soiled bandages and the signs of infection. Lepkin was changing poultices on the wound, but he was losing the strength to walk. She saw images of the surrounding area, and then Lepkin closed his eyes. He lay feverishly on the ground, shaking and sweating. He needed healing, but he was far from help.

  Lady
Dimwater turned to the magical messenger once the images stopped. “I need to know where he is,” she said. “The images were not enough. You must show me.”

  The bird bowed its head and leapt from the window sill. Up into the air it soared with a shrill cry. It grew back to its normal size, almost as big as a dragon. It gave another cry and then dove down for the tower window. She knew this was going to be a treacherous journey. The nighthawk was not meant as a means of transport. It was purely a messenger. Only the best of wizards could ever learn to ride them, as they were not made of solid bodies, but she knew there was no other choice. She couldn’t waste time by guessing where Lepkin was. He needed her now.

  Lady Dimwater climbed onto the windowsill and leapt onto the magical bird’s back.

  She sank into the bird slightly, but managed to stay on it as it soared over the courtyard and away from Kuldiga Academy. Dimwater squinted against the wind and clung tight to the fistfuls of feathers in her hand. She kept her head low and focused on riding the bird. She felt as though her stomach turned to lead as the bird ascended through the sky, gaining altitude faster and faster. The ground below her spun and became smaller. She clenched her jaw tightly and shut her eyes. She was accustomed to riding the wind on clouds of her own magical design, but she hated flying on the backs of nighthawks.

  Every few minutes she would peek over the purple and gold wings to the ground below. The two of them flew high enough that she couldn’t make out any specific landmarks except for the mountains and dark green patches of ground she assumed were forests. At least they were going fast, she thought. In truth, the flight of the nighthawk was only marginally slower than using her magical portal device. Still, the trip seemed long enough as her stomach flipped and changed from feeling like lead to weightlessness and then back to being like lead. Dimwater was only all too happy to hear the bird shriek, signaling that they were going to descend.