The Awakening

by Joe Jackson

  “I did mention that,” Leighandra said with a playful roll of her eyes. “The lot of you had mostly fallen asleep by that point, though…”

  “Will she aid us?” Max asked.

  Audrei held up the dagger. “She already has by giving us this weapon. That’s as much as I’m inclined to ask.”

  “A bone dagger?” Starlenia prompted, holding her hand out to see it.

  Leighandra chuckled. “Not just a bone dagger. That weapon has a tremendous history behind it, if the stories are to be believed. But regardless, if we are to leave… Alissiri to live, we must at least remove her from Fireblade’s territory to uphold our part of the bargain. She said we can take her with us for all she cares, so long as she’s gone.”

  “Where would we take her, though?” Galadon asked. “No city is going to welcome some snake-woman into their midst, certainly not one that fits the description of a medusa and doesn’t speak a word of the common tongue. At best, we could take her back to Karinda.”

  “Then that is what we will do,” Max answered. “Alissiri is clearly not from our world… perhaps she could return to her own? What did Karinda call it? Mehr’Durillia?”

  “The underworld,” Starlenia corrected. “To hell with whatever Karinda called it. That shithole is the underworld.”

  The luranar paladin chuckled and shook his head. “She can accompany us back to the dragon’s lair; I do not think we all need to go see her again. At the least, someone should stay behind to hold my blade, that I do not make the mistake of offending Hastucilliara again.”

  “I’ll tell her that Fireblade wants her dead, and that she is welcome to come with us,” Audrei said. “But we can’t make her go if she doesn’t want to.”

  “Sure we can,” Starlenia said with a shrug. “Just may not be worth it.”

  Audrei leveled a squinty-eyed stare at the rogue, but then began to speak quietly with the medusa. Alissiri agreed and rose, moving to collect her discarded bow. She went back into the cave, which was apparently fairly shallow, and collected her few possessions. She had a bag that was handmade from the skins of things she’d likely hunted and eaten, but it didn’t look to have much in it. Better than that, though, she had a full-length cloak with a deep cowl, all the better to keep her features hidden. It was easy for Leighandra to see that the woman truly had been left out here to die. There was no one she could safely go to for aid.

  “Is her wound all right?” the chronicler asked.

  “Well enough; I will keep tending to it as we travel,” Audrei answered.

  The companions exchanged glanced. Now, they had only to return to Fireblade and find out just what Karinda expected the dragon to give them. After making sure everyone else’s wounds were properly tended, they set out east again.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Progress was slow on account of the healing wounds. With their return to Fireblade’s lair likely to take twice as long, Leighandra figured it was as good a time as any to tell a story.

  “I want to tell you the epic of Derus’Torg,” she said. “Just how much truth there is to this one, as usual, I cannot say. But all legends hold a measure of truth, and if this dagger our guest has given us truly is the Claw of Sirenox, it might point to this legend having more truth than I would have ever expected.”

  She had everyone’s attention at that, and so, without her miniature harp, she began:

  “It is said that thousands of years ago, the underworld was caught in the throes of war, as it usually was in those days, the many demon lords making their ceaseless moves for power through unending warfare. A general rose among them, an ambitious and wily demon who requested he be allowed to attend the great council meeting between all the major demon kings and lords. Drawn by curiosity over such a unique request, a temporary armistice was declared and the demon kings held council in the city of Anthraxis.”

  “There the general, Derus’Torg, unveiled a plan to end the warfare amongst the many demon kings and lords by expanding the amount of land and riches under their control – by seizing the Celestial Realm. With the Celestial Realm conquered and the angels subjugated or destroyed, he argued, soon the middle – or mortal – realm would likewise fall under demon control. With all of the known realms falling under their control, the demon kings would each hold claim to more land, slaves, and resources… all the things they now fought over.”

  Starlenia spat. “Told you the place was a shithole.”

  Leighandra glared at the Okonashai woman but didn’t respond. “Even in their pride and arrogance, the demon kings could not pass up such a proposition. Ancient enemies became tentative allies, and under the leadership of the battle-proven Derus’Torg, the demon armies broke through into the Celestial Realm. They won victory after victory, catching the angelic populace completely off guard and driving them back from the edges of the Celestial Realm.”

  “How did they break into the Celestial Realm?”

  “Do you want me to tell the story, or do you want to ask a bunch of questions?”

  “Fine, fine…”

  “Now, in the center of the Celestial Realm is a mountain, upon which the gods make their residence. It is simply called ‘El Shaddai’, roughly translated as the mountain of god, and it was this mountain which was the ultimate goal of Derus’Torg to conquer.” She paused for just a moment when she found herself fixed with the blue-eyed gazes of the two luranar, but though they exchanged a glance, they said nothing to interrupt. “Farther and farther the demons pushed the angelic armies, routing them in battle after battle, for the demons outnumbered the angels nearly one hundred to one.”

  “In their pride and arrogance, the demons forgot a very simple principle: Things are not always as they appear on the surface. Still waters run deep, and a calm surface may hide a deadly undertow. The demons never stopped to consider just how easily the angelic armies were giving way to their onslaught. They assumed that the peace-loving, good-natured angels simply weren’t respectable warriors. And within three short months, they had driven the angels back to the waters surrounding the mount. Exactly where the angels wanted them.”

  “On the shore of the great lake the angels gathered for one last titanic battle with the demon armies. The demons fell upon the angelic forces with untamed fury, striking directly into the angelic host, determined to destroy them entirely. But they forgot something: The lake that surrounds El Shaddai is holy water, the runoff of the most holy place among the gods and their abodes. Derus’Torg realized his error too late, as his forces were flanked by the full might of the heavenly host, and forced into the lake of holy water, where the angels watched their enemies slowly dissolve into nothing.”

  “Derus’Torg fought to the bitter end, slaying any lesser angels that came too close to him, determined to make his last stand on the shore of the lake and take every angel he could to oblivion with him. There he was met by the Archangel Sirenox, a being nearly as ancient as El Shaddai itself, and unmatched either in zeal or skill with the sword. Derus’Torg was soundly defeated, and Sirenox lifted up and carried the dying form of the demon to plunge him into the holy waters personally.”

  “Before the demon general’s corpse had disintegrated entirely, Sirenox pulled his skeletal remains from the waters and carried them into the Arcadian Highlands. There, he commissioned the harmauth smith called Terx, an expert weaponsmith, to create artifacts from the bones of this demon general. And so, five weapons were created from the beast’s skeleton.”

  “From Derus’Torg’s sword arm, Terx forged the dagger called The Claw of Sirenox, which is said to bypass all of the protections of the demons it strikes, whether foot soldier or king. It is said that this humble-looking blade could fell the demon kings of the underworld. From the bones of the general’s legs and pelvis were forged the twin spears called Malgard and Dargauth, which are said to grant their wielders the protections of the Archangel who slew the demon. From his collarbones, claws, and sinew was formed the Claw Bow of Derus’Torg, a weapon said to create arrows o
f flame by the very will of its wielder, and to make any mortal man as deadly as a brys.”

  “Finally – and most familiar to you and me – from his skull was forged the great hammer Mallet, which would later become known as the Hammer of Damnation and be wielded by one of the greatest saints this world has ever seen: Saint Carly Bakhor, the very mother of the woman who sent us this way.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Starlenia muttered.

  “Is that true?” Max asked.

  “As I said, it is a legend, and they all have some truth to them. Whether or not the tales of the battle and the Celestial Realm are true, this dagger making its appearance now, with all that’s going on, can’t be coincidence, as you and Audrei would tell us. Suffice to say this little dagger might be far more useful than its humble appearance suggests. Perhaps our foul-mouthed little blademaster would care to carry it?”

  Starlenia’s brow creased. “Delkantar’s not that foul-mouthed…”

  Audrei chuckled and handed the sheathed dagger over to the rogue. Starlenia handled it as though afraid the weapon was going to shock her or something, and she drew it out of its little scabbard with what could have been fear or reverence. She tested its weight and balance, and though it didn’t have the style of her kukris, she seemed satisfied. She affixed the scabbard to her belt and patted it with a smile when she was done.

  “Foul-mouth,” Audrei teased.

  “Bitch,” the rogue returned.

  “Hey!” Max growled, his ears angled back.

  Audrei put her hand to his shoulder. “It’s all right, Max, she’s just teasing.”

  “Sorry,” the Okonashai woman offered anyway.

  Leighandra blinked. That was about as close to unhinged as she’d seen Max in all the months they’d traveled together. Wow, is he ever protective of his wife! Good man.

  Alissiri took in all their tales and teasing with curiosity, but she remained silent during the trek to the dragon’s lair. When they reached Fireblade’s mountain, they stayed back to let Yiilu work her druidic magic again. Audrei stood beside the druidess as she worked, the luranar’s hand on the elf’s shoulder encouragingly. Yiilu worked her magic flawlessly this time, and when she finished, she turned and gave Audrei a hug.

  The display certainly wowed Alissiri, no matter how little she could see through her snakes. Ultimately, she stayed behind with Starlenia, Delkantar, and Galadon, the last of whom had no interest in seeing the dragon again. Instead the knight held Max’s sword for him, and he took the opportunity to ride around on Galrinthor. Yiilu bid Vo’rii stay behind as well, and the druidess accompanied Leighandra, Max, and Audrei up the mountain. After some thought, Max left his armor behind, satisfied the ring would keep him warm if his fur failed at that altitude.

  Unencumbered by their packs and heavier equipment, the ascent was easier, though it was still arduous. Max strode down the passageway into the dragon’s cave without hesitation, and called out, “The keepers of the flame have returned successfully, mighty Hastucilliara.”

  “Come forth,” the dragon’s voice boomed in reply, and the sound of her massive weight shifting on her coins and other treasures echoed off the walls.

  The four approached, pausing only when the dragon loosed a gout of flame to heat the stone ceiling and light her chamber a bit. She narrowed her eyes and glared at Max, but then moved into that sphinx-like pose when she saw he wasn’t carrying the Sword of the North Wind this time. The paladin moved before her and bowed deeply, and the dragon leveled her head with him and blew his hair back with a snort.

  He still gave little reaction but to squint, and Leighandra could see the dragon found this curious, if not impressive. “We have returned, mighty Hastucilliara,” Max said, and the dragon titled her head. “I do not expect you to take our word for it, but the being who was troubling you simply wants to be left alone, much like I suspect you do. She will be accompanying us out of your territory, as we agreed. So, your territory will be undisputed once again.”

  “You have kept your word in several things now. You impress me, little mortal. Not many would dare to come speak with me, much less bargain with me or see to my wishes. In this, you have my respect, such that it is. If you but complete one more task for me, perhaps I will aid you…”

  “We completed the task you set before us; would you go against your word and charge us with something further?” Max challenged, though he kept his tone cordial.

  “Would you question the mighty Lady of the Deep Flame, little mortal?” she boomed, rising up a bit and craning back her neck as though ready to strike.

  “I would. If your word is of no value after one task, why should we bother to do you another favor?”

  The dragon laughed, a deep hissing sound that echoed through the chamber, punctuated by short belches of flame. “You are cut from a different cloth than your fellow mortals. However, I cannot give you the item I promised, for you have returned with only four, and thus are not the ones this trinket was meant for.”

  “We are still seven, mighty dragon,” Yiilu countered. “Our companions remained down the mountain, to watch over the guest we are escorting out of your territory, and to hold Prince Auremax’s sword while he came to treat with you.”

  “Is this true?”

  “It is, Hastucilliara,” Max confirmed with a bow of his head.

  “Then take this… with my blessing,” the dragon said, sliding her clawed foreleg forward. When she lifted and brought it back, there was what looked to be a massive emerald sitting on the floor of the chamber. It was roughly the size of a person’s two hands clasped together into a double fist.

  Max stepped forward and picked it up. “Thank you, but what is this?”

  “You know not what this is?” the dragon hissed, her eyes narrowing as she leveled her gaze with his. “How could you have been sent to me without knowing what it was you sought?”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Audrei offered.

  “Figure it out?” Fireblade bellowed, angling her neck to scowl at the luranar woman. “You may hold the very fate of this world in your hands, and you say you will figure it out? Begone, before I take it back and reduce you to ash! Return to those who sent you and demand the truth of this matter. That you would be sent here blindly makes me think perhaps it is time I returned to setting your pitiful cities on fire!”

  Max didn’t so much as blink. “May I call upon you?”

  “What?!” She brought her head back down to gaze at Max along the length of her snout.

  “Lady Hastucilliara, this world is in grave danger from a demonic, god-like being,” he said, hardly fazed by the dragon’s breath blowing past him, growing increasingly hot. “This is something that affects you as well, as mighty as you are. There may come a time when we need all the aid we can muster from every source: friend, acquaintance, and even sometimes-foe. In this, I would ask for your help when the time comes to confront this enemy.”

  “Fah! You want my help, mortal? Bring me the head and the swords of the one called Karian Vanador, and I… I will serve as your mount, if you can manage that!”

  Max started to speak but stopped himself. Leighandra jumped in, hopeful that her words would be taken in the proper context and not as an insult. “With all due respect, mighty dragon, if she evaded death at your powerful hands, what could we hope to accomplish?”

  Fireblade turned and narrowed her eyes at the chronicler, then showed those sword-like teeth. “You are correct. What could you do to her? Hmph. You have served your purpose. Leave, and let me return to my rest. I get quite irritable when my sleep is interrupted repeatedly, and I feel I need not tell you what happens when I get irritable…”

  “Not at all,” Max agreed. “Thank you again, mighty Hastucilliara. Pleasant dreams.”

  “Stop,” the dragon called as the four turned to leave. “Turn around and come back here, little mortal. What did you just say?”

  Max approached and stood before her again. “I said, pleasant dreams.”
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br />   She ducked her head down to his level and considered him for a long, uncomfortable minute with those narrowed, slit-pupiled eyes. “Are you mocking me, mortal, or are all your people so polite?”

  “I would never mock you, mighty dragon. As to my people, I would like to say so, but no,” Max admitted. “Though in your presence, I imagine almost anyone would act polite.”

  She snorted, a puff of smoke escaping her nostrils. “Leave, before I get sentimental. If you think my irritability is dangerous, you do not want to see me sentimental.”

  Max bowed again and escorted his friends out of the dragon’s lair. All of them blew out deep breaths when they reached the outside air again, and they didn’t waste a second before they descended to their companions.

  “What did she give us?” Galadon asked with a half-grimace when they had finally reached the base of the mountain.

  “A strange green gem that is pulling south,” Max answered.

  “What do you mean it’s pulling south?”

  “Hard to explain, but I get the urge to head that way when I hold it,” the luranar prince said, gesturing toward the horizon.

  He handed it to Leighandra, and she felt the tug as well. Each of the companions in turn held it, and each reported the same findings.

  “This must be what Karinda meant by finding our path when we visited Fireblade,” Yiilu said. “We should follow its tug and see where it leads.”

  “But what the heck is this thing?” Starlenia wondered.

  “I didn’t want to say and prompt a discussion in front of the dragon,” Leighandra said, “but if I’m not mistaken, that’s one of the jade seals that open the Temple of Archons.”

  “The what that opens the which?” Delkantar asked, rubbing his overgrown chin.