Mythborn: Rise of the Adepts

by Lakshman, V.

  Just then, Rai’stahn’s image wavered and there were two of him, superimposed upon each other. One stood looking at the Far’anthi Stone, the other staggered a step to the left, taloned hand to head. Wings flexed to steady the dragon-knight, bat-like and black, then the vision was over. The two images collapsed back into one. Whatever had affected Rai’stahn had passed like a desert breeze. Arek watched, but neither his master nor the dragon gave any indication that anything was amiss.

  Then Rai’stahn turned around, spearing Arek with his golden gaze, and he felt an almost physical heat where that gaze fell. It accused him, as if the great dragon knew exactly what Arek had just seen, and wanted to pull his very soul apart.

  What felt like an eternity swept by under the dragon’s scrutiny, then Rai’stahn growled low and said, “I wouldst speak with thee privately, Silbane.” He did not wait for a response, walking away from the lone tower and into the Wastes.

  * * * * *

  Silbane was worried. Under Rai’stahn’s gaze, Arek should have been reduced to a cowering supplicant and yet he withstood the great dragon’s Sight, ignoring it as one would an uncomfortable wind. It was not Arek that worried him, but the great dragon’s actions now. Silbane felt with a growing dread he was about to learn what this sojourn was all about.

  The dragon-knight continued to walk away with Silbane in tow until the tower grew smaller behind them. His long strides ate up the distance, carrying him quickly and surely to whatever destination he had in mind.

  Silbane hurried to follow, knowing any emotion the dragon felt was a magnification of whatever emotion he felt himself. Dragons were passionate creatures and their actions were often ruled by need as much as expediency and logic. Dragons do not measure time as we do, he also reminded himself. He crested a small rise and approached the armored knight.

  Rai’stahn had stopped and looked back at the tower, his golden eyes narrowing. A moment passed, then another, as he seemed to ponder how best to begin. Of course, Silbane reminded himself, dragons did not hesitate to speak their minds. Still, the expression on Rai’stahn’s face reminded Silbane of what a person might look like if an unpleasant subject were about to be broached.

  He looked down at the mage, then cleared his throat. “Now that we are clear of the Isle, I am left with a difficult choice. Tell me truly, what is thy purpose?”

  “My lord? I have spoken plainly.” Silbane hesitated to reveal more about their mission until he knew where Rai’stahn stood. The dragon could be a powerful ally or deadly enemy, depending on how he saw the situation. Moreover, it bothered the adept that the dragon-knight cared to mention they were “clear of the Isle.” What did he mean by that? A deepening knot of worry grew in the master’s stomach, accentuated by the fact that they were far from anything in this remote place, and alone with a creature of immense power.

  “The lore father sensed a stirring in the Way,” Silbane said. “Something at Bara’cor.” He watched the dragon closely for any signs betraying his inner thoughts.

  Rai’stahn’s eyes became slits. “Thou speakest of the Gate and slip the question,” he stated. “Dost thou know why I brought thee here?”

  Silbane looked back at the dragon, the initial shock at the mention of the Gate receding. Dragons were attuned to the Way, and there was little a dragon of Rai’stahn’s age would not know. Silbane decided to say more, hoping to find an ally. “Do you oppose our quest to find this Gate?”

  “The Gate is not what should concern thee.”

  Silbane cocked his head. Everyone knew the demons had brought the world to the brink of destruction, flooding into their world through these rifts. They possessed a person in their attempt at life. Nonetheless, he continued, “Our council worries Lilyth may not have been destroyed, but rather banished.”

  Rai’stahn closed his eyes, “The doom this world faces is brought by thee, Magus.”

  Silbane knew dragons were far more sensitive to the magical currents and eddies present in the world. It was possible Rai’stahn sensed things beyond Silbane’s ability to comprehend. “What do you mean, my lord?”

  The dragon-knight nodded once, a short, hesitant nod that surprised Silbane more because of its hesitancy. It occurred to him the dragon’s demeanor reflected an emotion he had never thought to see in his kind: fear. Silbane decided to press further. “My lord, if there is something I should know...?”

  A moment passed before Rai’stahn answered, “Dost thou seek the truth? The price will be high.”

  Silbane looked down, but when his head rose, there was a steely determination in his slate blue eyes. “Why do you test me? I have done nothing but request conveyance to a destination. Is that so difficult for you, my lord?”

  The dragon-knight walked a slow circle around the mage, and his voice barked out, “Do not question me, mortal! I have walked this earth when thee and thine were nothing!” The dragon-knight seemed genuinely angry and Silbane found himself wondering why.

  He continued, his voice low and deadly, “Thou wouldst hazard all races of this world, save thine own.” Rai’stahn looked at Silbane and said, “I hath been given special dispensation for thee, Magus.”

  Silbane stepped back a pace, sensing deadly intent in those words and said, “For what?”

  “Pay heed. I offer thee a chance to see events from this world’s past. Dost thou accept?”

  Silbane looked about the desolation surrounding them, empty and beautiful. It was clear now there could only be one reason Rai’stahn had agreed to transport them. Isolation. The great dragon had offspring nesting on the Isle. Whatever transpired here would have no witness, no collateral damage.

  A part of him hated to think this way, as if everything ended in betrayal, but knowing what the dragon knew was now imperative if he was to keep himself and Arek alive. This simple journey had suddenly turned into a life and death situation, and whether or not his thinking was the result of paranoia or preparedness, he was not taking any chances. He nodded, not trusting himself yet to speak.

  “Very well,” Rai’stahn nodded, then placed his fingers at a point on the center of Silbane’s forehead. Where the talons met, a yellow fire erupted in a thin line, piercing the master with a light shining like a miniature sun, hanging on Silbane’s forehead like a star. “Thou art given Sight. Behold, then choose...”

  Around Silbane the sand stirred, then rose in a swirling column sealing him and the dragon-knight from sight. Inside, Silbane could hear sibilant female voices, whispers coming from all directions.

  Rai’stahn stood facing the mage, his eyes glowing with power. Then, the whispers became a vision filling Silbane’s head, and he Saw...

  * * * * *

  The leader moved through the darkened tunnels, his armor catching and reflecting the firelight flickering from torches along the cave walls. He was accompanied by two guards, each wide-eyed, their faces covered in sweat from what could have been either fear or heat, most likely both.

  “Far enough, General.” The voice came from a dwarven soldier, who stepped out of the shadows and held up an armored hand. Though he towered over the men, he seemed somehow smaller.

  Perhaps it was the aura of power the leader projected, or the fact his gaze did not waver from the guard’s own. After a moment, the dwarf moved back an involuntary step, as if his body had been commanded to do so.

  “You’ll summon your masters,” said the leader in armor, dismissing his men without a sound or gesture. He didn’t say anything else, his pale eyes locked straight ahead, as if looking through the stone itself.

  Two more dwarves appeared and one bowed deferentially. “General, you have been granted audience. Please, follow me.” He turned, and to Silbane he seemed clearly accustomed to men of rank and just as clearly shielded from it by his own station. No doubt, it was this comfort that had seen him chosen to greet this general.

  The general had no choice but to follow, his eyes drinking in the details of this passage even as the chamber widened into an open basin. Arran
ged around the upper lip some distance above were shapes, reptilian and massive. They hinted at armored scales and promised fire.

  With a start, Silbane realized this man stood before ancient creatures more powerful in the Way than any known in the land. As if in answer, the man looked about the chamber, searching for the greatest of these, the dragon-king Silbane knew was Rai’kesh.

  Rai’kesh had ruled his kind for over a thousand years and now turned glowing red eyes upon the general, his posture showing that the mere presence of this man was an affront to dragonkind and the Way.

  As their gazes locked, the man smiled. It seemed as if he knew what harm that could befall him and dared it anyway. He said one word, which echoed throughout the vast chamber, “Coward.”

  A low rumble resulted and the ancient creature pulled back lips to reveal dagger-like teeth. “Have we not stayed our hand?” His voice was deep and sounded like gravel against stone.

  The leader nodded. “And thousands die.”

  The dragon-king raised a taloned claw and asked, “Who hath died?”

  The armored man stepped back. “If you can ask that, you have turned your backs on this land.”

  “Then thou dost not understand the war thee wages, nor the Aeris and their nature, halfling.”

  The general cocked his head. “Halfling? Even I, a mere mortal, am not beneath your insults?”

  A growl promising menace sounded, followed by, “No insult was meant, General. Without the Aeris, thy kind are not what thou couldst be, like the reflection of the moon on water, compared to the moon itself.”

  “Aeris?” he retorted. “I thought so once and chose a peaceful path. Then this happened. I name them demons now.”

  The great dragon Rai’kesh raised himself, his dark red scales glowing in the rocklight of the cavern like smoldering iron. His eyes narrowed and brightened into two embers. “What dost thou want, Archmage? We suffer thy presence because of duty, yet with thine every breath and word, our patience is tested.”

  The armored man looked about the chamber and pitched his voice to carry to all those assembled. “The war goes badly. Despite your claim, our people grieve for their dead. Our children disappear, taken by these demons, never to be seen again.” His eyes hardened and he stated, “We must have aid.”

  There was no movement, but the shadows conspired to give the impression that the entire assemblage moved in a bit closer. Rai’kesh looked at the man in armor, then hissed, “Thou presume much, coming before us.”

  “I would dare even you, if it means victory.”

  The great dragon leaned in, his head level with the armored general. “The Aeris cannot be eradicated. Created by thee and thy people, they are the stuff of dreams, halfling. Thy war is pointless.”

  If the man understood, Silbane did not see any indication of it. Instead, he stamped his foot and an explosion of white power flashed out, cracking the basin upon which he stood and pushing the great dragon king back with a promise of violence. “I will not suffer lies from the likes of you!”

  Rai’kesh treated the man’s outburst like the misbehavior of a child and did not react except to exhale a blast of smoldering air. Then, he growled, “The blind worry at each step. Mayhap it is Sight thou art lacking.”

  The general’s eyes narrowed and a few moments went by in silence. Then he simply asked, “Sight?”

  “Thou shalt See the true nature of things. Perhaps only then wilt thou understand war is not thy people’s destiny. Peace may yet be achieved. With the gift of Sight, thou wilt come to understand the Aeris and depart this path of recklessness.”

  The man looked slowly around the basin as if understanding that the dragons meant to change him in some fundamental way. Then he knelt and said, “I accept.”

  “Not all survive the giving.”

  “Do not concern yourself with my survival.” He looked up and power flashed in his pale eyes. “If I die, this ends here and now.”

  There was a pause, as if the very air went still with anticipation, then Silbane saw yellow power erupt from above, spearing the knight in its fire. It burned bright, utterly consuming the man in armor. He thought he heard a scream, then nothing.

  The fire slowly subsided. As it withered and died, the armored man knelt where he had been, the ground around him burned and molten, steam escaping in hisses from its charred surface, melted smooth from the heat.

  He looked dead, but then his armor glinted, a small sign of movement from the man within. Silbane thought he heard a sigh of disappointment from the gathered dragons, as if they had hoped to end his petition just as the man had said, with his death. That was not to be. The man was still alive and about to become more powerful than Silbane could imagine.

  He rose, his form still smoking, and his eyes opened. Silbane could see them flash yellow, infused with the power granted by this Conclave of Dragons. The general looked about, as if seeing things for the first time.

  “I had never dreamed—” he began.

  “The Aeris are necessary,” Rai’kesh interrupted. “Look upon them with mercy and thou wilt See that there are better answers than war.”

  He continued to stare about him, as if drinking in every detail, then his head shook. He took a step back, flanked by the dwarven guards, and said, “These creatures, if they are as you say, cannot be killed, and we are dead as a race!”

  Rai’kesh looked again at the man to whom they had entrusted with their gift and said, “Neither can they eradicate those who create them, for it will be their undoing as well. Thou canst petition for peace, because neither can survive without the other. Valarius, wilt thou desist in thy path?”

  The man in armor, who Silbane suddenly realized could only be General Valarius Galadine, shook his head. “You would see us enslaved?”

  “How canst thou be a slave to thine own shadow?” Rai’kesh responded, tilting his head quizzically. “Thou art thinking within the frame of a single lifetime. Much hath happened since Sovereign’s Fall, yet the parting of thee and thine from the Aeris was never intended. Seek peace and unification, and all will be as it was meant to be.”

  The great dragon paused, then said, “Forbear.” The chamber echoed with his final admonishment.

  The general’s eyes grew hard as he looked at the assembled dragons and said, “Patience is for the weak, and we are all granted but a single life.” He turned and walked away from the basin, but looked back as he neared its edge. “If your children had been taken, would you stand by so idly?” His eyes flashed again with power, as if daring any of the Conclave to act.

  When nothing happened, he gave a hesitant bow. It was a strange sign of respect, thought Silbane, given the tone of the exchange. He then turned away from the Conclave and back into the tunnels. Moments passed in silence.

  Then the dragon-king said, “Rai’stahn.”

  The air congealed where the archmage had just stood, a black smoke taking on the kneeling form of the armored dragon-knight Silbane knew. “My lord?”

  “He presumes much, doth he not?”

  Rai’stahn turned a yellow-golden gaze in the direction of the retreating form and replied, “We should kill him. At least then Azrael wouldst stand free.”

  Silbane thought he saw Rai’kesh smile at that, though it could have been a trick of the light. The elder dragon looked around at the Conclave and a silent communion was held.

  When it was finished, he addressed the younger dragon-knight again. “Perhaps the Sight granted will yet lend him perspective. He should understand what he wishes to destroy. Mayhap it will give him pause.”

  Rai’kesh moved closer and put an armored hand on the kneeling dragon’s shoulder. “Thou wilt take a force of knights. Attend the battle, but do not help these halfmen. Thou shalt protect the land should Valarius fail to See the path opened for him.”

  Rai’stahn nodded and asked, “Dost thou still believe he can bring unity?”

  “If he lives, perhaps. If he dies, it will be as thee says. Azrael will walk again
amongst us. Either outcome favors a beneficent end.” Rai’kesh paused, then added, “There will come a moment. Thou wilt know when. Act as we hath been ordered, for the good of this land.”

  Then the vision faded from his mind like smoke...

  * * * * *

  Silbane clutched his head, pain pounding inside his skull, his eyes shut. When he opened them, he realized he had fallen to his knees, the swirl of sand and dust gone. Above him, the dusk sky shone orange and gold with a serenity out of place with the import of the visions he had just Seen.

  He noticed the sand in front of him, spotted with dark, wet blobs. He reached out a cautious finger and realized it was his own blood, dripping from his nose and ears. A sharp pain in his forehead and a quick inspection with his fingertips revealed something that felt like a small scar where the dragon’s claws had touched him, burned in by the searing light of the vision. He quickly rose, wiping his face and looking for the dragon-knight.

  As the master rose the dragon-knight grunted, as if acknowledging his strength, and said, “Thou shalt feel the gift come upon you, but slowly. Stand steady.”

  Silbane shook his head to clear it, still throbbing from the intensity of thought and power. Never in all his previous dealings with dragons had he felt such might. He looked at Rai’stahn and though there were other more critical concerns such as Arek and his mission, he asked the one question burning in his mind, “Who is Azrael?”

  Rai’stahn watched the mage, his eyes calculating, then he offered, “Why dost thou ask what thine heart already knows. It is for this reason and this reason alone that thou art granted dispensation. Thou hast heard the name before, Magus.”

  Azrael? The name could be a coincidence. Silbane licked his lips and then asked, “He opposed Lilyth?”

  The dragon shrugged. “Nothing so simple as that. He chose a different path and disappeared in the Ascension. Now we wait for his bonded brother to recognize his own true worth.”