by Mike Shelton
THE DRAGON King
The Alaris Chronicles Book III
By Mike Shelton
The Dragon King
Copyright © 2017 by Michael Shelton
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews. For information, please contact the author.
ISBN: 0-9987935-2-3
ISBN-13: 978-0-9987935-2-8
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017909567
Greenville, North Carolina
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Cover Illustration by Brooke Gillette
http://brookegillette.weebly.com
Map by Robert Altbauer
www.fantasy-map.net
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This series has been so fun to write. I couldn’t have done it without the help of my wife Melissa, the editors at Precision Editing (Heather, Crystal, Julie, and Lisa), and wonderful cover and maps by Brooke Gillette and Robert Altbauer. These people do amazing things in fine-tuning my story and keeping me straight on events and timing.
I love all the wonderful feedback I get from my readers. This, along with my joy of writing, pushes me forward in creating new stories and new worlds.
The Dragon King is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of my imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I alone take full responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book
-Mike
BOOKS BY MIKE SHELTON
The Cremelino Prophecy:
The Path Of Destiny
The Path Of Decisions
The Path Of Peace
The Blade and the Bow – A prequel novella to The Cremelino Prophecy
The Alaris Chronicles:
The Dragon Orb
The Dragon Rider
The Dragon King
Prophecy Of The Dragon – A prequel novella to The Alaris Chronicles - forthcoming
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Books By Mike Shelton
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
About the Author
Other Books By Mike Shelton
MAP
CHAPTER ONE
Bakari circled high above the Elvyn city of Lor’l atop the back of his growing dragon, Abylar. The Blue Sea to the east, sparkling with the sunlight of early spring, enhanced the deep blue of Abylar’s jagged scales. They had spent almost four months together, but the bond between the two still grew deeper each day. The depth of feeling Bakari had for his dragon was only rivaled by his affection for Kharlia Attah, the young woman he had met just weeks before Abylar had hatched.
“It’s amazing, Bak!” Kharlia shouted from behind him. She held on tight, with both hands wrapped around Bakari’s waist.
Bakari couldn’t help smiling. He had been attracted to Kharlia at first sight. It wasn’t just the similarity of their dark skin tones. Her willingness to help everyone and her genuine concern for him had been immediately apparent.
Her dark brown hair now hung past her shoulders, and he thought he could sense her brown eyes looking at his back. So Bakari turned his head.
Kharlia cried out. “Hey, watch out!” she said. “Those braids are getting longer.”
Bakari laughed and resumed looking forward. She had been the first to ever braid his dark hair. The previous winter, the braids had barely been a few inches long; now, they hung down past his chin. Wearing his hair in braids was characteristic of his Mahli heritage.
Thinking about his ancestral land put a frown on his face. After growing up in Alaris, he’d known nothing about that part of the world. But he’d been to Mahli three times now: first, as a new dragon rider; second, after the war in Alaris had come to an end; and most recently, when he had returned to discuss things with the regent there once again—this time with Kharlia at his side.
“Don’t worry, Bak,” Kharlia whispered, tickling his ear with her breath. “They will work it out.”
Bakari was amazed at how well she could read him.
His second visit to his homeland had been the most difficult. He’d had to inform Regent Nagasi that his son, Kolo, had died. The regent had taken it well enough, but many who had sided with Kolo did not. Ever since meeting Bakari, Kolo had been jealous of him and had wanted to be a dragon rider himself—and, eventually, the Dragon King. Then Kolo had been manipulated into stealing a dragon egg by a man they called the Chameleon—so named for his ability to take on the form of another person—and this pursuit had led to Kolo’s death.
The most recent visit had gone better, but there were still those in Mahli who didn’t believe that Bakari was the prophesied Dragon King—a prophecy that Bakari was still not sure about himself.
Descending over an empty field between the sea and the Elvyn Forest, Bakari sent a silent message to Abylar to land. Upon doing so, they saw a contingent of elves approaching, who bowed to Bakari and offered to bring food for Abylar.
I like these elves! Abylar said to his rider.
Because they give you food?
Yes, why else? Abylar’s stomach growled. That is a sign of respect toward our race.
Bakari laughed and hopped off of his dragon, then turned and offered his hand up to steady Kharlia as she climbed down from the growing dragon. Bakari rubbed his hands over his dragon’s snout, and their bond flared stronger. Bakari felt his tiredness diminish and his strength return. It had been a long ride from Mahli.
“Greetings, oh mighty Dragon King,” said a man with a laugh, coming up to Bakari’s side. Bakari winced at hearing the title, and a few of the gathered elves gasped at the informality of the man’s greeting. If prophecy was to be believed, Bakari, as the first dragon rider in recent memory, was also destined to become a king.
“Roland!” Bakari said, putting out his hand to shake. But he was pulled into a hug instead. Then, stepping back, he surveyed his friend.
Roland Tyre, at seventeen years old, was a year older than Bakari. They were polar opposites in nearly every way imaginable. Roland had chin-length, blond hair—flopping down over his forehead—bright blue eyes, and a smug confidence, proclaiming himself to be the most
powerful wizard around. While Bakari had dark skin, brown eyes, and a more reserved attitude as a scholar wizard—at least, until Bakari had become a dragon rider. Now, he was forced to make decisions quicker than he would like and to lead others.
“Nice to see you again, Kharlia.” Roland took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Are you keeping our dragon rider in check?”
Kharlia blushed at Roland’s attention but stayed standing next to Bakari, her other hand in his.
“How goes the Citadel?” Bakari asked.
Roland groaned. “I never knew administration could be so tedious, Bak. But we are getting new apprentice wizards all the time.”
“You did proclaim yourself High Wizard, Roland,” Bakari reminded his friend. “And with that comes responsibility, not just power.”
“I know. I know.” Roland slapped Bakari on the back. “So, how did the trip to Mahli go? I haven’t seen you since the coronation of Mericus deGrande as King of Alaris.”
Bakari shook his head with a laugh. “deGrande. Leave it to Mericus to give himself such a name. I still find it hard to believe Alaris has a king now. After one hundred and fifty years of hiding behind the magic barrier, with judges ruling the land, it will take some getting used to.”
A group of elves motioned for Roland, Bakari, and Kharlia to follow them into the giant tree city of Lor’l. As they passed a table of food, Roland reached his hand out, easily calling a plate of fruit to himself. He grabbed a piece without slowing his pace and shoved it in his mouth.
“You were the one that brought down the barrier, Bak,” Roland said with a full mouth. Then he wiped juice from his chin. “This is all your doing.”
Now it was Bakari’s turn to moan. He had indeed found the Orb, a dragon egg that—through the power of guardians giving their life-sources to it—had sustained a barrier around Alaris for one hundred and fifty years. Bakari had been taught that the barrier was there to protect Alaris from other kingdoms, but he had found out later that it was actually put up to protect the other kingdoms from Alaris.
“How is King Mericus doing?”
Roland smiled. “Not half bad. He broods around a lot and complains about the work.”
“Like you?” Kharlia piped in.
“Yes, like me.” Roland laughed. “He is doing well, though. The old Chief Judge, Daymian Khouri, has actually been acting as a type of ambassador for Mericus by reaching out to other kingdoms.”
“I’m glad to see that Daymian took this so well,” Bakari said. “It could have started another war on the tail of the first one.”
They reached a grouping of enormous trees. Pulleys and vines held a platform that was being lowered to the ground to pick up the visitors. They climbed onto the platform and, at a signal from Bakari, they were lifted up, zooming at a rapid pace through openings between branches.
The Elvyn city itself was amazing in its scope. Giant trees of all kinds had been made into houses, and buildings filled thousands of acres of the Elvyn Forest. Looking up, Bakari could see the largest tree to their right. In this was the king’s quarters. Memories of visiting him before came to Bakari’s mind now.
The last time was to talk to the old, dying king, Arrowyn Soliel. In his ancient wisdom, Arrowyn had shared with Bakari the secret of the dragon eggs. With that knowledge, Bakari had found others to become dragon riders with himself. Though, in his heart, he still felt there was one more rider needing to be found—a quest that tugged at his mind, even now.
When they reached the top position of the platform, a dark-haired young woman approached. Dressed in battle attire, looking ready for trouble at any time, Alli, Bakari’s short friend from Alaris, greeted them.
“Bak, you look well,” Alli said. “The braids are longer.”
Bakari smiled and gave her a hug. “Alli, it is good to see you. I didn’t know you were coming.”
Roland rolled his eyes. “She said I needed to be protected. But she’s a year younger than me!”
“And twice the battle wizard that you are.” Alli laughed, hair bouncing at the top of her shoulders. Her green eyes met Roland’s with affection. “He thinks being the head of the Wizard Citadel means he knows everything.”
Roland’s eyes widened. “Me? Well, of course I know everything. I am magic.”
The four friends laughed. This claim was something that Roland had always said. Bakari had verified this was indeed true: that in the ancient histories, most of the High Wizards of the Citadel were not only powerful in one of the magical disciplines but had abilities with all. Roland had been apprenticed as a counselor wizard but also held many abilities that scholar or battle wizards held.
Then, out of a doorway in front of the group of teenagers walked a middle-aged man, and the mood turned more somber. His long, dark hair hung over his pointy ears, and his eyes held a look of sadness, but he smiled genuinely at the group. Approaching Bakari, he reached out his hand for a hearty shake.
“Lan…or should I say Prince Lanwaithian or is it King now?” Bakari stumbled and then added, “Greetings.”
“Dragon Rider,” Lan said and then paused with some emotion. “Good of you to join us. There is food waiting for you inside. The ceremony will commence this evening. Until then, Prince or just Lan will do.” The prince’s father had passed away recently, and a private ceremony was to be held to confirm Lan as the next king of the elves.
“Any word from Breelyn?” Bakari asked, looking at Lan.
The prince seemed conflicted, and his mouth tightened. “She is, apparently, on your errand, Dragon Rider.”
Bakari glanced down for a moment. She was indeed on his mission, and he too hoped she was well. Breelyn was the beautiful, young protector of the elves who had become the second dragon rider. She was also engaged to the prince.
“She flew north to Gildan,” Bakari explained, “to let them know about the barrier falling. She should have returned by now.”
“So I have been told,” the prince said.
Bakari walked up closer to Lan and pulled him aside as the others entered to find food and rest.
“Have I offended you, Lan?” Bakari asked. “We are still friends, aren’t we?”
Lan’s shoulders slumped, and his head fell. After a moment, he gazed back up into Bakari’s eyes. “I am just worried for her, that is all. And, with the king’s passing…it has been…hard.” The prince’s eyes looked moist now.
Bakari nodded. The elves lived long lives, and their relationships with the land and with each other were deep. Lan’s father had been king for one hundred and fifty years, a long reign even among the elves.
“We are still friends, Dragon Rider,” Lan started and then stopped. “But, once I am king, what will that make us?”
Bakari understood this question all too well. At the end of the war for the rule over Alaris, Roland had proclaimed Bakari as High Dragon King, a king over all other kings, and as the only person whom Roland—and, by default, the other wizards—would need to answer to. Mericus, the new king of Alaris, was also a wizard and would be beholden to Bakari through that relationship.
“We will face that when it comes, Lan. For now, we are friends, and my purpose is to establish peace among the lands.”
The prince nodded and then motioned Bakari to follow the others inside.
Then they heard a loud roar up above them. So they ran to a nearby platform, where the two of them could look up into the air. Circling above them were two colorful dragons: a yellow one, with orange tips on its scales, carrying a beautiful, blond-haired elf maiden and a bright green dragon, carrying a fifteen-year-old boy with a long, dark ponytail flying in the air behind him.
“Breelyn! Jaimon!” Bakari yelled out loud, but he also spoke their names through the dragon bonds. They both waved, and a mutual feeling of joy was carried through their bonds to Bakari.
Lan laughed out loud with a quick expulsion of air and then said, “Breelyn.”
Bakari patted the prince on the back. “She w
ill be your queen someday, Lan. Don’t worry.”
The prince turned to Bakari and smiled. “I can hardly wait for that day, Dragon Rider. Have you ever been in love?”
Bakari felt himself blush and knew that his dark cheeks were going even darker.
“Ha!” Lan punched Bakari in the shoulder. “You are in love, aren’t you? With that lovely young woman you came up with.” Lan motioned once again for Bakari to join the others as he added, “Well, don’t let me keep you waiting. I know how fond the heart can grow when we are away from those we love.”
Lan left to ride the lift down to meet Breelyn, and Bakari walked through the open door to join the others. As soon as he entered the room, Kharlia was at his side. Bakari’s heart lifted but then grew sad. He hadn’t told her yet, but he would have to leave her for a while. For he needed to fly north to find the next dragon rider.
CHAPTER TWO
Later that evening, mage lights and candles adorned the great Elvyn hall high up in the trees. Bakari caught the sweet aroma of the lilacs, roses, and gardenias placed throughout the front of the room. The elves had the ability to grow flowers like these any time of year it seemed.
A raised dais held everyone’s attention in front. Seated on one side were Prince Lan, Breelyn, a younger cousin of Lan’s, and an older aunt and uncle. The other side held three senior council members and a scribe.
Bakari stood in the back of the room with Kharlia, surveying the others who were present. The heads of a dozen or so of the largest Elvyn houses were seated on two long benches. Next to them sat a smattering of ambassadors and other government officials. This would be a private ceremony tonight. A formal coronation would occur in three months, after the allotted time for mourning and for making preparations.
