by N. Saraven
“How do you know about his?” gasped Cameron, widening his eyes. It was supposed to be a secret.
“Please … I needed one glance at her, and it was obvious. She emits Setal’s power.”
“But if you knew, how could you stay out of the Dragonwars?”
“Well … I would not go into that right now. Let us say that we could not really see eye to eye with the Overlord. And even though Lexénia did not retract our arrangement, she did not seem very warm when I approached her again. I assume she had a new pet, so I had to stay in the background.”
“Didn’t it bother you that she made undead from your fellow dragons? Or to where the Order of the Shadows descended?
“During these many circles, my companions changed, and not for their benefit. As for the other aspect, I tried to prevent it, whether you believe it or not. I paid a visit to the Isle of the Order and really tried to help them. But, as I said, Lexénia did not help, so I shamefully was defeated by the Overlord. Sad day, very sad.”
Indrek fell silent for a moment. He seemed truly touched by the memories, which probably still hurt. After ten circles, he still was bashful about the happening. Although ten circles was nothing in the eyes of a dragon.
“Maybe I could have done things differently,” continued Indrek softly. “But if anything, I have learned this: there is no need to muse on the past, to think about the ‘what ifs’. You must take as much as you can get from the present and future. So while Caracen and Lexénia were busy with the whole Dragonwars, I took over Nar. I wanted to build a stable Empire, not just a big one. Yes, I am aware of the terror living on the streets, but it will pass. The townsmen are tough; when we get to the acceptable level, they will ease up. They just need to adjust, which takes time. However, even as we speak, less and less argue or raise their voice. My forces have almost nothing to do nowadays.”
“Yes, because their souls are shattered,” rumbled Cameron, who slowly started to put the pieces together.
“Be that as it may, the weak shall perish.” The Ruler shrugged. “Nothing can change without some sacrifices. Those who can live through this, who can start a new life, as you put it, will feel grateful.”
“If you can say that … And you wonder why they call you names.”
Indrek gave a short laugh.
“I do not mind, really. Believe me, every ‘tyrant’s’ life starts hard. However, every animal lives like this in nature: the strong prevails, the weak perishes. I just follow this natural rule, especially since I have all the time I want. Those who now live in Nightfort will have children who will grow up in the bright, new world I created. I only will ease the rigour from now on. The kobolds already do not really care about how I do things, because they came to see my way. As long as they have what they want, they are fine. Their businesses are on a course high up, and their lifestyle has grown. The elvens suffer this whole change the most, but they are made strong. After the humans worry less, they will have their breathing-area back.”
“Maybe. Only time will tell,” said Cameron. “But you still haven’t answered my question about your real goal. Why do you want to kill Enargit so much?”
The shadow Ruler stayed silent for a few moments, staring into his empty cup.
“I want my people back. I want my position back. I want a perfect Empire, so I can show it to everybody. Even the dreamers have a place in this world. And I want to make them strong, way stronger than anybody else. I realised many things through time. For example, I do not want to kill Enargit. It is a last resort if I cannot make him change his mind about my methods.”
Indrek shrugged. He still looked as if he wanted Cameron to know these things, as if he wanted him to be part of his world. He was alone, in exile for too long, and he longed for another dragon’s presence.
Perfectly understandable in Cameron’s eyes.
The bright could consider himself lucky because Neila and Halgor, then later Varomor, accepted him. He had a home; they formed a big family in the Tower. They forged together as one from their own uniqueness and the love for magic. Come to think of it, Cameron could not even begin to imagine what such a long period of loneliness could do to a person. He too observed that other than him, Indrek had no companionship whatsoever.
He sipped his drink absentmindedly. Everything came under a different lighting.
32. Meeting the Gods
Veilon’s eyes watered in the smoke. He tried to blink them out, but nothing worked. Then he felt that Neila grabbed his arm, albeit the clench eased up as she fainted. The kobold turned to her, worried, held up her head, and called her name. Enargit also glanced at them uneasily, or at the Elders questioningly.
“What is happening?” snapped the shadow dragon, but he got only a huge ball of smoke fanned in his face.
The reptile started to cough heavily as he tried to catch his breath again. He fought against the peculiar fumes, but the more he breathed in, the more disoriented he became. A little later he lost consciousness, thudding on the ground with a loud bang, almost on Neila.
“What the …?” gasped Veilon as he tried to see something.
He blinked rapidly, tears pouring down his cheeks, but nothing really worked.
“What did you do with them?!” he snapped at Eteryon, smashing him against the house wall, which cracked loudly, but held up.
“Patience.” The tribal held up his hands as a sign of peace; however, that did not help at all. The dark mage’s eyes flared in anger, and he obviously was thinking about putting the other into his place. Although before he could get violent, another coughing stream got a hold of him.
At this moment, the Elder in the middle started to swirl the air with a huge feather. The smoke spiralled to the hole in the ceiling, drawing every last drop of itself outside. The air in the hut became as clear as it could be under the circumstances. Only a thin streak of smoke emerged from the remains of the leaves on the ember.
Veilon took a deep breath, clearing his lungs. Then he turned again to the tribal, demanding answers.
“Calm yourself, Veilon, Ruler of the paragons.” One of the Elders raised his hand. “Your companions are not in danger, only meeting with the Gods.”
“Wh … what?” stammered the kobold, stunned. Eteryon beside him now pushed him to the ground to sit, but he hardly realised.
Now it struck him how they called him. They obviously knew who he was, so they did not want to give him the respect on purpose. Then he realised something else, which he had dismissed when it happened—Eteryon called Neila the daughter of Setal at the waterfall.
Overall, this whole situation became even more complicated.
His confusion must have shown in his eyes because Eteryon snorted.
“Did you really think that we had no idea when a suspicious Tower appeared in our territory? I watched you the moment you arrived,” said the tribal, which made Veilon even more astonished. They had never, ever realised the tribal around them, not even the wraiths. He completely managed to avoid the magical traps too …
The fact that Varomor was outplayed this much froze Veilon. He just stared at the other with widened eyes as he tried to fully comprehend the situation and what that meant for them.
He too was able to hide from almost anybody. Using magic, or his own skills, if he did not want to be seen, nobody could discover him so far. He also had the senses to feel an unwanted person’s presence around him. Only Neila or Halgor could beat him because they had more power. Overall, he could hardly imagine what skills anybody would need to avoid this many terrific mages, wraiths, and two of the strongest Masters in the worlds—through seasons, nonetheless …
Veilon became deadly pale, which made the other smile wryly.
“You need not to worry.” One of the Elders broke the momentary silence. “We made a promise to Setal that when the time comes, the Chosen Ones must appear before them.”
“But all of them should be here. Why is Lexénia’s Chosen One not present?” asked another Elder, turning to Et
eryon, who bowed deeply.
“The daughter of Setal did not let him in.”
Veilon glanced from one to the other, confused, worried, and even angry. He knew nothing about these events; his seeing into the future did not help. He still knew of bigger happenings which still had to come true. Yet because of the complexity of the spell, he had to choose what he wanted to see and what he had to dismiss.
Like the fact of the tribal kobolds’ existence, or that why and how any of them knew about their relations with the Gods.
None of the companions liked to brag about it; even he knew nothing of it. Neila had never mentioned anything more than she had to. So even when she and Halgor disappeared in the arms of the Gods, Veilon thought that it must have been another childish play on the Creators’ part.
“What …?” Veilon burst out. “I demand an answer!”
“You have no ruling here, thus you’d better not ‘demand’ anything!” One of the Elders chided him, which made the dark mage’s eyes flare in anger. He faced a much, much older kobold, whom he did not respect. Yet his aura was formidable enough to cool him down.
He fell silent, seemingly deeply insulted, pouting. The Elders exchanged glances and nodded. Veilon looked at them when one started talking again.
“Each of the Gods chose one mortal whom they found acceptable. These people are the Chosen Ones. We know three of them so far: Arisha chose Enargit, Halgor is Lexénia’s, and of course, Setal’s is Neila. The latter was created as the opposite pair to the Overlord.”
“This … this cannot be true,” gasped Veilon. “Neila is half-kobold, the child of a male human and a female kobold.”
“They were the actual parents, yes, but her life, her possibility to be born was the creation of Setal, who also gave her powers,” said the third Elder, who sat silently until now.
The Ruler almost fainted in surprise. He could hardly believe his ears.
“And Halgor?” he asked hoarsely as he could feel his throat closing up.
“If the daughter of Setal decided against his presence, then the time has not come for them to stand before the Creators together,” said the Elder in the middle.
The dark mage suddenly felt dizzy and numb, as if he were hit in the head very hard. He sensed Big Secrets behind the scenes since he knew about the Gods, who actually existed. However, he was thrown into them too suddenly, so the knowledge almost overwhelmed him. The lack of sleep, holding hands with tremendous worry, started to take over his body and mind. He needed rest, but he hardly got any in the Tower. The atmosphere there became so heavy that even he had a difficult time functioning in it. Even one sleepless night proved to be a serious blow to his health.
Veilon leaned against the house wall. He stared at the ceiling, seeing almost nothing, while his mind tried to comprehend and order everything he had heard. Then fatigue emerged from somewhere deep, flooding him completely. He closed his eyes, just for a moment, but the sleep did not let this chance go.
Neila startled awake.
Her eyes popped open; she sat up straight immediately, as if she were stung by something. Her hand slid to her sword-hilt, but it was not there. Yet, she did not have the time to look for it. Her eyes scouted the landscape around, as she recalled some spells. After nothing lethal tried to jump on her, she sighed, then looked around again, this time to actually see where she came to be.
She sat on a soft, short grass, in a cute meadow. Near her stood a rounded fountain; its noise would be soothing in every other situation.
“Where am I?” she mused out loud as she stood up. Wherever she turned, the landscape was the same—happy meadow with flowers, bushes, some trees. It seemed to be daytime, but she could not see the Sun or any other light source in the blue sky.
She almost started forwards, when suddenly Enargit appeared beside her, lying on the ground, unconscious, in his original form. Neila stepped to him to see what could be wrong, but he seemed perfectly fine. He even winced under her touch, then slowly opened his eyes. He blinked rapidly, but when his gaze stumbled upon Neila, he took a deep breath. Obviously he had no idea who she was.
She gave a surprised cry and stepped back, which made the dragon blink some more, as if he wanted to clear his vision. Although he stopped the motion, then exhaled slowly and carefully. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see.
“Where are we?” he asked as he glanced around. Neila just shrugged.
“Not in the hut.”
Enargit twisted his mouth to stating the obvious and stayed silent.
Abruptly, a bush by them burst into bloom, and near him a lot of other plants sprouted, then after a little while they withered. Setal stepped from behind, standing majestic before the friends. Shortly after arrived Yverion, making the air smell like salt, and Arisha. The Gods lined up, their features calm and grateful, as if something beyond serious was about to happen.
The companions stared at them surprised, although careful.
“We welcome you here.” Setal broke the silence with his silky voice.
“Where are we, and how did we get here?” demanded Neila firmly, with which she earned the Gods’ disapproving glance.
“I see that you still haven’t learned manners,” he chided her, but she only shrugged.
Neila’s mood was obviously terrible, and the Gods’ presence only made it worse. Every one of them could see this, but Setal knew they did not have the luxury to postpone the meeting. He perfectly understood why she behaved the way she did, and a part of his mind found the whole situation ridiculous. He, as her Creator, should not feel anything for his subject at all. She and everybody else existed as part of their experiment; the whole three-world picture was created to test the effects of isolation on the peoples.
Regardless, a long time had passed since the creation, enough to form attachments to their subjects. Even for them.
The Gods had a very long life cycle, so they had all the time they wanted to ‘play’ with their experiment. At first, there was nothing wrong; they did what they wanted, no strings attached. But then something changed. When Indrek tried to affect Lexénia with feelings, when they saw what a war could do to lives, these events started a chain reaction. The Gods did not realise this until it became too late.
Finally, it was Arisha who drew their attention to it. During the Lost Wars, she worked hard on saving lives, although she could not really tell why. They figured that when they created the lands and species, they must have accidentally put something from themselves into their subjects. After all, they used their power, their mind, and their soul to do so. As a result, a bond was created between them and the persons, what made them grieve over the loss of those lives.
Only Lexénia proved to be an exception to this, who always represented Death and Ruin. She often stood alone in their little quarrels, somehow starting the wars, creating circumstances for battles. She made everything solid tremble, turning love to hate, creating chaos in order. And by doing so, she founded the possibilities for new experiments, new beginnings, which brought deeper connections to the mortals. Which could not be overlooked or dismissed after a certain point.
For Setal, that point was when he created Neila as the opposite side to the Overlord. He used two ‘subjects’ to form her body and technically let her life flow as she wanted for a while. But because he gave her greatness and power, he created a bond with her. Whether he wanted it or not, it happened.
So he felt worse every time Neila reacted violently towards him. Deep down, he wanted all of this to change, if she would look up and respect him. He was aware that he could never be a father figure of any kind in her eyes. After all, he was nowhere around during her life and probably never made it easier either.
Setal took a deep breath as he saw the golden eyes darken. He feared that what they had to tell her now could destroy what remained between them—maybe ruin it for good, a thought which made his throat close up. If he could, he would never tell her anything, just to save her from more pain. But he had no choice in
the matter; the others overruled him.
His heart started pounding, his breathing became more rapid. He tried to gather the strength to speak, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
Arisha stepped forwards, smiling, which made Enargit snort and Neila even more grim than before. Their gaze showed that they did not like the situation at all.
“You need not to worry. You are safe. This place is our home, if I can say such a thing. We summoned you, so the Council of Elders made it so. We need to talk.”
“About the map, I assume,” cut in Neila sternly. “You want to explain why you never told us that we live in one world instead of three.”
“Indeed,” agreed Arisha, glancing at the others questioningly.
Neila’s tone sounded so insulting and demanding, which seemed to offend even the Goddess. Setal took over, who tried to smile as charming as possible.
“So, if you are interested …”
“But I’m not!” shouted Neila as she gestured frantically. Her golden eyes shone like heated metal. “I have had enough of your playing with us, as if we were nothing more than toys. I am not even surprised about this new lie, it’s only the whipped cream on the cake. I would rather know why you play with us? Because that is what we’re for, isn’t it? For fun! You think of something, and we dance according to that. I’ve lived through three wars because of you, and I’ve had enough!”
Neila started a rampage.
Enargit backed away a little because the power radiating from her pushed him away. But she obviously was not aware of this—her forces whirled around her like a real tornado.
Even the Gods seemed concerned about the forming situation as they stared at her. Her gaze faded, as when heated metal cools down. Pain, exhaustion, and sadness shone in them. They seemed to overwhelm her mind, controlling her body. She continued with an empty, faraway voice.
“I’ve had enough of losing things. Why do you cause so many troubles in our worlds?!” she demanded firmly as the tornado around her strengthened. “Are you really that soulless that you don’t care about us? Allegedly you gave life to us, yet you throw them away like children do their unwanted toys! As if we were meaningless. Why? What is the reason behind all of this? Why do you hurt me so much?”
