Eclipsing the Darkness (The Dragon Chronicles Book 5)

by Shawn E. Crapo

  Faeraon stepped up behind Traegus and the Alvar came to attention. Their king stood before them, looking them over and nodding his approval. “My people,” he said. “This battle is our battle. When the darkness took our world, we swore vengeance. When you faded into shadow one by one, I swore that I would see you return. Together, with our allies on this world, we shall have both. We will see the end of this darkness forever, and the rebirth of our world. The Grand Druid and his friend Traegus have promised us a new Mother spirit; one that has resided in this world since the beginning. To show them our thanks, we will fight and die beside them.”

  The Alvar silently raised their weapons to their hearts, pledging their allegiance. Traegus and Farouk smiled, knowing that the warriors who now stood before them would be the greatest asset they had in this battle.

  The Jindala did not stand a chance against such hardened and seasoned warriors.

  As Eamon and the other kings approached, Faeraon turned, motioning to them.

  “The man in black is King Eamon,” he said. “He has offered us a temporary home in his lands. We will honor his people, and protect them as well as we can. For now, we march upon the city of Khem, where the darkness resides. This time, we will prevail!”

  He thrust his sword into the air, and the Alvar did the same. Their collective shouts boomed like thunder, and prompted the remaining allies to join in the shouting.

  Faeraon then turned to Eamon, taking his hand. “My warriors are yours to command,” he said. “And I am with you, brother.”

  Eamon smiled, closing his eyes as the feeling of hope came over him. Though his dream foretold doom, he knew in his heart that it was only fear; not reality.

  “Eamon,” Farouk said. “Allora and I must depart for a few days. It is time to defend Tel Drakkar, and to release Theia’s spirit into Alvheim.”

  “I understand, Farouk,” he said. “Good luck to you both.”

  He looked into Allora’s eyes, seeing their beauty and kindness. The feeling of hope became stronger as she smiled encouragingly, and he suddenly felt something else he had never felt before; even stranger than the earlier feeling she gave him when she had appeared after his dream. He thought perhaps it was her similarity to his mother, but it was different somehow. He could not place it.

  “Do you still have the gem that Jodocus gave you?” Farouk asked.

  Eamon nodded, reaching into his tunic to retrieve it. The druid had given him the soul gem when he and Wrothgaar had met him the first time. He had completely forgotten about it, yet there it was; hidden and forgotten until now. He produced it, holding it in his palm.

  “I will give it some of Theia’s power,” Farouk said. “Use it sparingly. It will be useful for keeping your troops alive and well during their journey. And when you reach the Great Pyramid, use it to release the spell the Powers have given you.”

  “You will return before then, will you not?”

  Farouk nodded. “I may, but just in case the Dragon reaches the Great Mother before then, I will give you the power now.”

  He lifted his staff, touching its gem to Eamon’s soul gem. There was a spark as the two made contact, and as Farouk drew the staff away, a tendril of orange energy stretched between them. It coiled and passed from Farouk to Eamon’s gem quickly. Eamon felt the awesome power of the Mother spirit enter, and it filled him with a sense of warmth and undying love.

  The love only a mother could give.

  Finally, the transfer was complete. Farouk set down his staff.

  “Remember, Eamon,” he said. “Do not try to decipher the meaning of the spell. Simply let it free. See the Lifegiver as a solid, physical being, and it will be so. See what you wish, not what you expect.”

  Eamon nodded, not fully understanding. He gripped the soul gem in his fist, tucking it back into his tunic.

  “Thank you, my friend,” he said. “I will see you in Khem, perhaps.”

  Farouk turned to Azim, waving goodbye. He then grasped Allora’s arm. She turned to Eamon, smiling again. “Goodbye, Eamon,” she said. “I will see you in Eirenoch.”

  The two of them turned away and walked into nothingness, leaving the allied armies behind.

  “Are we ready, then?” Traegus asked as he approached.

  “We will wait until the morning,” Eamon said. “The Dragon is not ready. I can feel it.”

  Traegus nodded. “Alright,” he said. “That will give our new friends time to get to know the men.”

  “Traegus,” Eamon said. “Can I ask one thing of you?”

  Traegus nodded. “Of course.”

  “I think we are going to need Titus,” Eamon said. “I need to know the location of the army of Kinar, and whether they are joining us, or meeting us at Khem. The Priests of Drakkar will be needed on Eirenoch.”

  “Very well,” Traegus said. “I will call for him and send him east.”

  “He should fly low,” Eamon said. “It looks like a storm is coming.”

  Indeed, as the allies looked to the sky, it was quite obvious that clouds were gathering. They roiled and churned fiercely, obscuring the desert sun. The storm would reach them soon; possibly by morning, if not before.

  “This is quite unusual for the desert,” Hamal said. “It does not bode well.”

  “Agreed,” Eamon said. “Back to the fortress, then. Faeraon, gather your warriors. We should take shelter before the storm arrives.”

  As the leaders dispersed to gather their men, Eamon stared off into the east. A dark wave seemed to be growing on the horizon that was spreading westward. It was not the storm, however; it was something worse. The Lifegiver was aware of their approach, Eamon knew, and he was preparing for their arrival. The darkness would spread, just as it did in Eamon’s dream. The rains would stop a sand storm. The darkness, though, would continue to spread.

  The Onyx Dragon sighed. The time was nearly upon them all, and the outcome was unknown. Whether they defeated the Lifegiver or were destroyed, Eamon knew that they would all fight or die for their freedom, and that of all of the good people of Earth.

  And that was the noblest motivation of all.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Startled birds burst into flight when Torak arrived at the mines. He was startled himself, and waved his arms in a panic as he was swarmed. When the chaos had cleared, he laughed to himself; glad that no one was there to see his reaction. It was then that he felt the awesome power that radiated from the mines below. There, beneath tons of dirt and rock, were the remains of an ancient meteor that had crashed to Earth many thousands, perhaps millions, of years ago.

  He wondered if anyone else had sensed the same power since the founding of the mines. Obviously, there had been someone in the past who had known what was buried there. Otherwise, the mine would never have been built.

  Torak put that thought aside as he scanned the area. As the Keeper had described, the mines were surrounded by the remains of the original impact crater, circular in formation, and jagged with many years of erosion. Only the larger segments of the wall remained, sloping downward on the outside to the rocky valley below. The crater itself was relatively flat, having been scraped and shaped by human hands—or possibly divine hands.

  Whatever the case, the scene was troubling. Scattered around the mines were the remains of many Jindala warriors. Some of them had been scorched, others dismembered with weapons. From what he could divine, Khalid had been here previously. It was likely he and another priest that had killed them. But what happened to the mine workers?

  Torak shrugged. “This is no good,” he said out loud.

  Conjuring a wind spell, he swept away the remains with a wave of his staff. They crumbled and blew away with the breeze, disappearing into the sky.

  “Much better,” he said.

  Now, his task was to create a tower for himself. Here, in the hidden confines of the mine, he could study in peace. But what kind of tower would he create? He contemplated for several minutes, tapping his bearded chin in thought. He could
build a minaret, he thought; something similar to those in Khem. Perhaps a dark, spiked, monolithic… No, that would not do.

  “Hmmm,” he grunted.

  “Hello, friend,” a kind voice said.

  Torak turned around, seeing Jodocus standing there; his smile wide and friendly.

  “How did you recognize me?” Torak asked.

  Jodocus laughed his boyish laugh. “It was easy,” he replied. “I do not trust my vision, only my heart. My heart told me it was you.”

  Torak smiled. “How did you know I was here?”

  Jodocus grinned, walking toward him. “It’s where I would go,” he said. “This is a logical location for a tower. What did you have in mind?”

  Torak returned to his contemplation, shrugging. “I’m not sure. Judging by the desolation, nothing beautiful would fit.”

  Jodocus nodded. “I agree. Perhaps I can help with that.”

  The boy raised his staff into the air, drawing energy from both the Earth and the sky above. He then planted his staff in the ground and closed his eyes, holding his other hand palm up. He appeared to be lifting something; drawing an invisible force from the ground. Slowly, the soil began to darken. Flat stones began to break through, lined up in an intricate pathway. Around them, grass sprouted, covering the formerly rocky ground with a beautiful carpet of soft green. Among the newly sprouted grass, trees reached up through the soil and stretched high, their branches spreading out like fingers and sprouting leaves as they shot upward. Near the southern edge of the crater, the ground sank in and gushed water; creating a nice, clear pond that reflected the sunlight around the new oasis.

  Torak watched in awe, impressed with the boy’s power. He smiled widely as new ideas formed in his head. He now pictured a cobblestone tower, complete with stained wooden window sills, and a nice crenellated crown at the top of it. As he pictured it in his mind, it began to take shape in the center of the crater. It rose from the grassy rocks, building itself just as Torak imagined it. Jodocus continued his own spell, raising vines from the Earth that climbed and twisted themselves around the tower’s stones.

  Soon, the two looked over their creation with pride. Together, they had created a beautiful oasis, complete with wildlife, flowers, and a sparkling source of water.

  “Beautiful,” Torak remarked. “Thank you, my little friend.”

  Jodocus plucked his staff from the ground, grinning. “That was fun,” he said. “I assume you pictured the inside, too?”

  Torak nodded. “Yes, I did,” he said. “But now I need some books.”

  “Well, I’m sure that Khalid or Farouk would be happy to provide some. Maybe even Maedoc.”

  “I would like that,” Torak said. “And I thank you, Jodocus. I am glad that I was able to meet you again. This time, I know on which side I belong.”

  “When you came west with your one hundred troops,” Jodocus said. “I felt that you knew I was there, sitting on that rock.”

  “I did,” Torak said. “But I was not sure it was you. I was focused on destroying Farouk and Azim. They had betrayed the Lifegiver. It was my duty to kill them.”

  “Your heart is free, now, Torak,” Jodocus said. “You are now what you were meant to be. And we are all happy to have you as our ally.”

  “All of you?” Torak asked, skeptically.

  Jodocus chuckled. “Most of us,” he said. “The others will come around. I have the feeling you will have many dealings with the Alvar in the future. They are good souls. They will forgive you as the people of Eirenoch will.”

  Torak nodded in appreciation. Though he was still skeptical, he could accept the possibility that he would be forgiven. Regardless of whether or not that was true, he would aid them in the upcoming battle. The Lifegiver’s last ditch effort to destroy the magic-wielding folk of Eirenoch would not come to fruition.

  Not if Torak could help it.

  “It is getting late,” he said. “When darkness falls, the Enkhatar and their undead beasts will rise again.”

  “I will return now,” Jodocus replied. “I hope that you will join us.”

  “I will. Go on without me for the time being. I will be there when I am needed.”

  Without hesitation, Jodocus tapped his staff on the grass and disappeared, leaving Torak with his thoughts. He contemplated how he would help during the battle, and whether or not he should simply appear or announce his entrance somehow. Knowing that Allora would not likely be there was a small comfort, even though she probably would not recognize him anyway. His new appearance was that of a man of Eirenoch, not the pre-human species he was born into. He did not even resemble Tyrus anymore, who appeared as a man of Khem. As far as anyone knew, he was a completely different person than either of those two. He would be a stranger to them all, with the exception of Jodocus, Farouk, and Traegus.

  They would keep his secret.

  Accepting that truth, Torak walked toward his new tower. The stone path was comfortable, being interspersed with moss and tiny blades of grass, and was surrounded on either side with wildflowers, small shrubs, and sweet-smelling herbs. When he reached the door, he willed it open and entered.

  The receiving chamber was decorated with bookshelves and comfortable furniture that accented its stone walls. The chamber itself was round, like the tower itself, and its perimeter was adorned with a wide spiral staircase that led up into the high, wooden ceiling. He mounted the stairs, tapping his staff on the wall at various places to create sconces and other decorations to beautify the atmosphere.

  The first landing consisted of a sage’s library, complete with hundreds of bookcases that were, as of yet, empty. He would have to supply them with the various books he would find in his travels, or those that were donated by his fellow magic users.

  Smiling, he continued upward. Each floor was arranged and equipped for a specific purpose. There was a laboratory level, a living chamber, and, finally, an observatory at the top level. Here he would build his study. He would furnish it with drawing tables, charts, maps, more bookcases, and other things he would need in his studies.

  He sighed happily, knowing he would be comfortable here. He couldn’t wait to complete his library, stock his magical component stores, and fill the walls with maps and other reference materials. He would be a full-fledged scholar, and could finally learn everything he ever wanted to learn.

  If he survived the upcoming battle, that is.

  Putting those thoughts aside, Torak climbed the stairs to the roof of his tower. It was quite a height, and afforded him a rather spectacular view of the surrounding land. He could see for miles in every direction, and even the sea was visible to the south. He was wary of the presence of the Enkhatar and their minions to the southwest, however, and stared long in that direction. There was something odd about the nature of the creatures that accompanied them; though he could sense them, their essence was faint. They were hidden from sight, which meant the sun not only hindered them, but could possibly destroy them.

  If he could somehow produce something similar to sunlight, then he could arrive at the battle and destroy them in one fell swoop. He smiled at the thought.

  He looked up at the sun, which at this point was nearing its highest point. Its brightness caused him to avert his gaze, bringing his eyes upon his own staff. At its head, a twisted knot of roots bore an empty space. One day he would place a gem within it, like the other magic users had, and it would be attuned to his own energies. For now, he reasoned, it was a usable empty slot in which to place something.

  Calling upon the powers given to him by the Keeper, Torak raised his staff into the air, pointing it to the sun. He pictured the fiery orb lending him a small portion of its power, allowing him to call upon it whenever he needed. As he concentrated, a tiny pinpoint of light appeared at the end of his staff, entangled in the roots. He focused on it, willing it to become larger and larger until it was nearly blinding.

  He then closed his eyes, compacting the energy into a solid object, calling upon more and mo
re energy to gather there until the desired mass was reached. Then, he pictured the shape of a gem, pressing the glowing ball into its shape. He felt a surge of power as it collapsed, compressing into a crystalline structure.

  Then, the surge subsided and Torak opened his eyes.

  At the end of his staff, a large yellow gem had formed; brilliant in luminance, and perfect in form. Its many facets glinted in the daylight, imparting its inner power to all who gazed upon it. In its center, the concentrated light of the sun bounced around endlessly, causing the entire gem to flash and sputter.

  He had created a sunstone.

  Smiling, Torak gazed again in the direction of the enemy. He now had a weapon capable of destroying the writhing undead creatures that threatened the temple and its inhabitants. Through this act, he knew, his past sins could be forgiven, and he could join the people of Eirenoch as one of their own.

  He cherished the thought.

  Khalid was surprised to see Farouk and another person appear at the edge of the temple grounds. He was under the impression that the druid would be traveling to Alvheim to release Theia’s spirit. Nevertheless, he was happy to see them. Every capable ally was welcome in the battle.

  He greeted them with a wave as they approached, chuckling as Farouk saluted him as a Jindala would. He returned the salute with a grin, taking Farouk’s hand in greeting.

  “Welcome back,” Khalid said, his eyes shifting quickly to the beautiful red-haired woman who accompanied the druid. “I see your taste in women has improved.”

  “This is Allora,” Farouk said with a smile. “She is the daughter of Faeraon.”

  Khalid bowed low, taking Allora’s hand, and kissing it as he rose. “It is a pleasure,” he said.

  “And you must be Khalid,” Allora replied. “Farouk has told me all about you.”

  “Nothing bad, I hope,” Khalid said, grinning.

  “Of course it was all bad,” Farouk joked, taking Allora’s hand away from him. “Now take us to Tenegal and let us discuss our strategy.”