Seventh Talon_Dragonrider's Fury
Page 1
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1 - Invitation
Chapter 2 - Mercury Elf
Chapter 3 - Feedback
Chapter 4 - Midnight
Chapter 5 - Osprey Harbor
Chapter 6 - The Mayor
Chapter 7 - Richard Gatz
Chapter 8 - Veragaon
Chapter 9 - White Dragon Scale
Chapter 10 - Silver Spoon
Chpater 11 - The Crypt
Chapter 12 - Allies
Chapter 13 - Dragon Eye
Chapter 14 - A. Proteus
Chapter 15 - Damn Birds
Chapter 16 - Dragon Spire
Chapter 17 - Summoned
Chapter 18 - Complicity
Chapter 19 - Bone Breaker
Chapter 20 - The Library
Chapter 21 - Last Remnant
Chapter 22 - Lost Ability
Chapter 23 - Assessment
Chapter 24 - Metallicore
Chapter 25 - Usurper King
Chapter 26 - Dragon Politics
Chapter 27 - Valoh
Chapter 28 - Torus Ring
Chapter 29 - Bloodbath
Chapter 30 - Tinkerer
Chapter 31 - Minot
Chapter 32 - State of Decay
Chapter 33 - Deeper is Not Better
Chapter 34 - Mourners Wail
Chapter 35 - Blood Symphony
Chapter 36 - Halfwit & the Vulture
Chapter 37 - Climbing
Chapter 38 - Nightwalk
Chapter 39 - Pixie
Chapter 40 - Spark
Chapter 41 - Ethereal
Chapter 42 - Larva
Chapter 43 - Loot
Chapter 44 - Naga
Chapter 45 - Vees
Chapter 46 - The Albino
Chapter 47 - Ice Mage
Chapter 48 - Spell Book
Chapter 49 - Ironhand
Chapter 50 - Ancients
Chapter 51 - Ramerin
Chapter 52 - Lightning
Chapter 53 - Night Terrors
Chapter 54 - Crosspointe
Chapter 55 - Defiance
Chapter 56 - Inner Fire
Chapter 57 - Trust
Chapter 58 - Dragonrider
Chapter 59 - Wood Elves
Chapter 60 - Taunts
Chapter 61 - Drafted
Chapter 62 - Wildcard
Chapter 63 - Boh's Folly
Chapter 64 - The Mission
Chapter 65 - Taken
Chapter 66 - Hangover
Chapter 67 - Secrets
Chapter 68 - The General
Chapter 69 - Matriarch
Chapter 70 - Taro
Chapter 71 - Messenger
Chapter 72 - The Fallen
Chapter 73 - Dragon Slayer
Chapter 74 - Oaths and Fury
Chapter 75 - Three Scars
Chapter 76 - Frostbite
Author's Note
Contact Info
GameLit Info
This book is dedicated to Kristi Haase and all those who suffer from Multiple Sclerosis (MS).
The author note at the end of the book explains how Kristi is a motivation for this book and the shaping of the main character.
I hope those of you who read this book will visit National MS Society’s website to learn more.
Nationalmssociety.org
Thank you for reading.
Boh
Chapter 1
Invitation
We are all broken by the trials of life, small fractures at a time. Fragile. One tap away from shattering. The death of my father was that tap, and I was left in pieces. Broken.
His death left a hole in my life that I could not repair, and even a century later, I am still broken. Still feel that sense of abandonment and loss. Alone.
Odditek saved me from myself that day, and I remembered my damaged body trembling as I read the email granting me access to their Quality of Life program. The day I buried my father is the day I closed the lid on my Virtual Reality coffin. I logged out of the real world.
- Boh’s Journal, August 8th, N138
Current Date: November 18th, N149
Deathday. She thought and took a deep breath to stop the trembling in her heart and hands. It was the only day she allowed herself to remember, and Gwen, her AI Assistant, was ready to send her to the Seattle Sector.
“MsBoheme13… are you ready?”
Her father had registered her under that name, and once he died, she lacked the will to change it.
“Yes.”
Loading… Please wait!
MsBoheme13, welcome back to the Seattle, Washington Sector of Neuroma.
Gwen put her right outside the 5 Point Cafe, a classic American diner, and a dive bar. They served a great cup of coffee, and she loved the ambiance. The whole section of this city resided in the shadow of the Space Needle.
On a rainy night many years ago, her father entered this cafe. He claimed he was up late studying and came here for a bite to eat. Gwen, a waitress, was working a double shift and he started a conversation with her. It was an uncharacteristic action for him because he was not known for his ability to initiate conversations.
Hours went by while they chatted and he waited for Gwen’s shift to end. When it did, she sat with him, but they spent hours saying nothing. Nothing needed to be said, because they knew they would have a lifetime of conversations. A few months later they were married.
Or so the story goes, but the life they imagined never came to pass. Gwen was her mother for seven minutes and thirty-nine seconds until her heart failed. A mother she would never know and whose loss she would feel in many indirect ways over the years. She was not sure why she named her AI Gwen. Whatever the reason, it now felt morbid.
She pushed the door open and sat in a booth near the window, the same place she always sat.
The interior of the cafe was a replica of the real thing and existed true to life. Odditek spent a lot of money using bots to create 3D imaging of entire cities. Most of the buildings in Neuroma were exact replicas of the time they were scanned. At least the ones they could legally obtain. This even included all the underground things like sewers and subways.
Near the bar was a wall of pictures. Not the ones above the bar, those amused her, and she would have been mortified to be one of those women. Even if she agreed to let them take a picture of her exposed boobs, she could not imagine them becoming a permanent fixture in a virtual world. No— the pictures she came to see were the ones depicting birthdays or special events. She found one of her parents, and her dad down on one knee proposing. All the pictures, even the ones above the bar, were a nostalgic reminder of how life had changed.
“Welcome back, sweetie,” Flo said. The captivating name choices for the AIs aside, Flo had always been here, from the very beginning. “I’m glad ya here, honey. We all got ya somethin’, now it ain’t much, but you are like family ‘round here.”
Gil, the bartender, came over and placed a wrapped package on the table in front of her. She stared at it for several moments before opening it. Inside was a wooden frame with a picture of her parents, the one from the wall.
She felt hot tears burning her cheeks. It was not the grief that got her, but the gesture itself. Few people went out of their way to do nice things for her.
“None of that now, ya hear?” The waitress said as she took a napkin from her apron and wiped away the tears, then the woman hugged her. It was awkward because she was not used to people touching her. “We explained it to management, and they was willin’ to help. It didn’t cost us nothing.”
“Thank you,” she said softly and touched the image of her father. She ba
rely noticed when Gil led Flo away from the table and thought about the lifetimes she had lived without her dad.
It was raining again. She always loved the rain. On days when her Multiple Sclerosis kept her bedridden, she would stare out her window. The tip-tip-tip-tap sounds lulled her away from her thoughts and pain. She rested her head against the cold window, feeling the vibrations the rain made against it.
She slid her hand across the rough surface of the table and felt something out of place. Shifting her eyes down, she saw her fingers rested on a card. The leather backing had a dragon’s head embossed on it and above the head were the words Seventh Talon and below the image was the word Drache.
Her heart pounded while she traced the word Drache. It was the German word for dragon, something she learned from her dad. He used it as a universal term for all variations of dragons.
Looking around the cafe, she tried to spot who left it on the table. Gil and Flo were on the far side of the bar, near the cash registers and not paying her any attention. The only other person present was too focused on devouring a chicken fried steak.
Flipping the card over, she found it blank. A sigh escaped her a little too early as the card caught fire. Out of the flames, she could see words forming, and her heart was pounding as she read them. The fingers on her hand went white as she clenched the card, willing it to burn itself up.
Do you wish to be a Dragonrider?
“This is not funny,” she whispered through clenched teeth. Her lips pressed into a thin straight line. She was aware of her temper and willed herself to breathe normally.
The letters on the card faded away, which left the card blank once more. It did not surprise her this time when the card caught fire and then died down as the words appeared
Go to the Yellowstone Sector. Tell no one, or your invite is rescinded.
“What the hell? You know how large the Yellowstone Sector is?” She asked, her voice rising. No one paid her any attention, probably assumed she was talking to her AI Assistant.
You know where to go. Keep the card.
The card went into her inventory, and her hand paused as she reached out to call for Gwen. They had done their homework on her and knew her well enough to know about Yellowstone. It was the only thing that was stopping her from running headlong into this secret world. She tapped the menu to summon her assistant.
Gwen appeared when she called for her, and together they made arrangements. It was not unheard of for people to disappear into other worlds for decades, and it was not the first time she had left her AI in charge. Loose ends all sorted, she stared at her AI and nodded once.
Loading… Please wait!
MsBoheme13, welcome back to the Yellowstone Sector of Neuroma.
It did not take long to reach the destination, and she could see the valley below. A winding river worked its way through the wooded ravine. The bluff she stood on was not an easy hike, but this view was worth it.
A photo on her dad’s desk was taken from this spot. It was a permanent fixture in his office, and he told her many times how he wanted to bring her here. Her MS diagnosis changed all that.
It was all the small ways that her disease deflated the man that weighed on her, but he did not take it laying down. The man fought for her, and never gave up, and she was— it did not matter. He was always there wiping her brow, hugging her when she could handle the pain and whispering soothingly. He remained undaunted in her mind for years, until she realized he acted that way out of fear.
The best gift he gave her was the love of dragons. On days her spirit was down, he would spin her tales of dragons overcoming strife and conflict. Every good story has a moral he told her, but she never understood any of them. It drove her dad crazy, but her mind did not process things that way.
In the end, it did not matter because his stories filled her with laughter, sadness, triumph, and optimism. Every line delivered with her father’s magic, wit, and sarcastic humor.
The man went out of his way to get her every dragon he could find. It was their thing. If this world existed and he was not here to share it with her—
“Araagh!” She screamed into the valley kicking a rock over the bluff. She tried to understand her emotions, the anguish and pain were always beneath the surface, but the fear was something she had not expected.
Do I really want this? The card in her hand had broken her routine and disrupted her life. More, they knew about this place and her dad, which also angered her. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to remember the last time she felt this vulnerable.
The card in her hand flared up as she tried to unravel what had her on edge the most. Turning it over, she found the next message.
Follow your map. Time is short.
She opened her map and found a blinking marker with a dragon’s head roughly two miles east of her. A timer showed up on her Heads Up Display (HUD) with only thirty minutes left.
The indicated location was in a rough part of the valley, and thirty minutes was going to be a tough hike. She ran haphazardly down the trail cutting across the valley and relying heavily on her high endurance and agility. She resized the map and moved it to the side so she could keep an eye on it without stumbling.
Running was cathartic, and she missed the pure joy of it. Her early virtual years were spent running across all kinds of sectors because her real-world body could never do it. All the places she dreamed of going, she went, and the virtual world kept growing, which gave her more and more places to visit.
Years went by before she found out she would not die, and it left her depressed. A therapist might say she had Post-Traumatic Stress or maybe survivor’s guilt, and perhaps they were right.
Then again, it was not significant right now because dragons had captured her imagination once more. She wanted to deny the urge, but she was running and jumping across the terrain like a wildcat. The last bit of obstacle was a twenty-foot sheer wall, but she spotted plenty of handholds for an easy climb.
Her doubts faded as she crested the cliff. Among the rocks in front of her was a cave that opened like the maw of some great beast, stalactites, and stalagmites lining the entryway like teeth. A wet breeze issued forth from the gullet, and it smelled as if it had just belched after eating rotten eggs and garlic.
Two slits above the entry looked like nostrils and spewed smoke or steam. The ominous entryway did not feel like the kind of place little girls dream about when they imagine dragons. This place felt like the lightning before the thunder, and the intensity of the location had her hair standing on end. The card flared up, startling her enough that she almost dropped it.
Choose.
The timer ticked down. Almost in a trance she walked through the teeth-like stone structures and entered the darkness.
Boh
Chapter 2
Mercury Elf
To see myself, I first had to know myself.
-from The First Dragonrider
Loading, please wait…
MsBoheme13, welcome to Seventh Talon.
#ERROR# Seventh Talon does not contain a waypoint. This world is no longer connected to Neuroma. Please report this immediately. #ERROR#
The darkness brightened momentarily as the messages scrolled past.
*You chose her? There is a reason we stopped selecting females.* Ironic, because she felt sure the speaker was a female. It did not feel like verbal speech, so it was hard to be certain.
*It is my choice,* a male responded in a way that brooked no argument. Several thoughts/speech weighed in on top of it, but it was too much for her to follow or understand.
“I am right here. Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” She called out into the black abyss.
*You are a Champion.* The female responded again. *Not that I agree. Broken, damaged, liability are all great words to describe you, but Champion…?
“I have a friend named Ali. She talks a lot, incessant is a word I would use. Pretty much an air head without any semblance of intel
ligence. It is impressive how many words she can use to say absolutely nothing of value. You are like her. So how about you step out of the shadows or shut up and say something helpful.”
Laughter greeted her diatribe, but the woman who was speaking was not among them. It was not condescending laughter, they were amused, especially the male who claimed he had selected her. It took a lot to fight down her temper to prevent further provocation.
*Please be at ease. We mean you no ill will.* He spoke like the priest who visited her in the hospital on occasion. *We are the gods of Seventh Talon, well some of them. Years ago another god appeared, and was given powers equal to that of the World Wyrm. It unbalanced the world in which we live and because of it the portal between worlds was broken.*
“Not to seem insensitive, but what does that have to do with me, Champions, or being a Dragonrider?”
*To the point, I like you already. We have no direct influence over the world we inhabit. We need Champions who are willing to fight, and risk much to aid us. To fix our world. The new god and his allies cannot kill us, but we are at an impasse, a war of attrition.*
“So I am a Champion. How am I supposed to help?”
*Learn. Live. Love. The signs are there if you follow them. I am forbidden from revealing too much, and in some ways we have less free will than you do.*
“How did you know those things about me? Why not pull in a lot of Champions?”
The god laughed. She could not say why she trusted him, maybe it was the lack of guile.
*We have tried to call on several champions all at once. It failed badly. The knowledge of you was unknown to us, but the information was supplied by the gods of your world. They too want to see the connection between our worlds repaired.* The voice paused for several heartbeats. *I have enjoyed our chat, but our time is up. If you love dragons as much as you claim, you will need to fight for them despite their failings. We need a Champion that will represent them not for what they are, but for what they can become.*