by Greg Dragon
Dragon and The Ruby
Knights and Demons - Book 7
Greg Dragon
http://gregdragon.com
Copyright © 2016
Thirsty Bird Productions
This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, and situations are of the author’s imagination. Any similarities to people, places, or crimes is purely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted without the express written consent of the author.
Chapter One
She didn't know who it was that pulled up to the house. It could have been her mother, or maybe just the maintenance man. All Lenorela knew was that she was not supposed to be home, and if any of them were to catch her there, she would be in for a world of hurt.
When she heard the click of the front door’s lock, she did what instinct bade her to do and hid beneath her bed. The silence went on too long for her poor beating heart. It got to the point where she thought that perhaps the sound from the door had come from her imagination. Maybe it was the fear of being caught, playing hooky from school? But then as she made to investigate, there was a loud noise. It sounded as if someone’s heel smashed down into the wooden floor followed by the sound of breaking glass, as things began to fall from what sounded like the kitchen.
There was a thumping noise, a bit of struggling, and then a horrible scream from someone who was not her mother. It was a man’s voice, and unlike anything she’d heard before. The scream was not just one loud noise and then nothing; it went on for a long time, and it seemed to be getting louder with every passing second.
Lenorela watched the open doorway from beneath her bed, and the dark hallway that gave access to the other rooms. She could see the tall, decorative china cabinet that her mother prized above anything else, its contents vibrating from whatever was happening inside the kitchen. Within seconds the cabinet was a wreck, glass flying everywhere, as a large man flew face-first into it.
Her mother walked out from the kitchen, slowly, and grabbed the man by the nape of his neck. She began dragging him towards Lenorela’s bedroom, and her high-heeled shoes clicked loudly on the linoleum. She was dragging a man who should have been way too heavy for her small frame to manage. This surprised the young girl hiding, since she had never thought of her mother as being physically strong.
There was more struggling once they were in the room, but all Lenorela could see were high heels and the man fighting as he was pulled up off the ground. His feet dangled and there was a horrible sound, like bones crunching, and then blood splattered on the floor in front of her.
It took everything within Lenorela not to scream, and she clasped her hands over her mouth as she watched the large pool of blood grow bigger and bigger. There was another noise and the man was on the ground again. This time he was looking at her through lifeless eyes, his blue pupils were getting darker. She could tell that her mother was on top of him with her arms pinning him to the floor. Her face dipped down within view then, and to Lenorela’s horror she watched her mother drink blood from the gaping wound on his neck.
Mandu demons were nothing new to the citizens of Jorn, a tiny city in the country of Rus. Everyone knew they loved blood, but it was understood that they had other means of feeding. Unlike the world known as Earth, these “vampires” of Jorn were not undead creatures that were cursed to feed upon the living.
Mandus were merely a different race—an ancient race—thought to be wiped out with the exception of a few. They were seen as aristocrats who liked their steaks raw, loved their wine—red—and had a high sense of fashion. So, the sight of her mother biting into someone’s neck was not as shocking to Lenorela as it would have been for someone of another world. What was shocking, however, was that it was her own mother.
There had been no signs or signals in all of Lenorela’s young years for her to believe that she was born of the Mandu race. She was child to this woman and a father she never knew, and they had lived mundane lives eating regular food and drinking of regular drinks.
When it came to the subject of Mandu demons, they had always talked about them in third person. Lenorela began to wonder if this bloodsucking creature was truly her mother, or if somehow her body had been taken over.
The awful gulping sound drowned out all other noises and was quite the horror to listen to. She watched the man’s color fade as blood leapt from his body and up into her mother’s injection-like fangs. When it was all over, she rose up off the corpse and then dragged him back towards the kitchen where more noises ensued.
Lenorela could not even guess at what was going on, but she dared not move. She lay there watching the black blood dry and hoping that her mother would go away. But then the heels clicked loudly against the floor again, and her mother was back inside her room. The toes of her expensive stilettos faced Lenorela like judgmental twins, bordering the blood while the woman did something on the top of the bed. After a time the shoes turned around and then popped up out of her eyesight before falling to the floor again without her mother’s feet inside of them.
A bulge on the top of the bed let her know that she was lying on it, and a part of Lenorela thought about sliding out, bolting for the door, and running away as fast as she could. But she could not—
“Lenorela,” her mother’s voice called from above her.
She could feel her heart crawling into her throat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that this was all inside of her head.
“Lenorela, don’t make me call your name again. I know you’re under there. So, be a good girl and crawl out, so that I may speak with you.”
Lenorela did as she was commanded and slid from beneath the dusty bed. She stood near the blood, where she dusted herself off, and looked into the eyes of the woman she knew as mother.
“My child, I know that you saw what happened just now, and you probably have a lot of questions. You’re probably wondering, why is it that my mother just killed someone inside of our house? First of all, let me assure you that this isn’t something I make a habit of doing. But your father is no longer with us to protect us, sweetheart, and despite the relative peace that our people have had for all of these years, there are still those who would hunt us down to kill us. Do you know why I drank this man’s blood?”
“No, Mother,” Lenorela said softly.
“Because he was a hunter. You will have to be careful, my dear daughter. You can no longer walk around naïve as to what you are and who may hurt you.”
Lenorela could not believe her ears. She unconsciously ran her tongue along her teeth to see if perhaps she had fangs. To her surprise, she felt her eyeteeth more extended than she remembered. She had never had the craving for blood throughout her entire 13 years, and she wondered if it was something that manifested itself when a Mandu demon became an adult. “Am I a Mandu like you then, Mother?” she asked.
“Yes, Lenorela, you are. But not to worry, what you saw Mommy do today, you will always have a choice in doing. Do you want to know why I drained him?” she asked this time.
“You said it was because he was a hunter. But that wouldn’t make any sense. You could’ve just killed him, or hit him over the head with something. But you ate him! As if you were getting some sort of enjoyment from it.”
“I ate him, yes, and how does that make you feel?” Lenorela’s mother asked.
The girl glanced down at her feet as a wave of embarrassment took over. They were monsters. That was all she could think about, and she decided right there on the spot that she would never sink as low as her mother was now. “It makes me feel sad,” she said quietly, and her eyes stayed on the blood between her feet.
“Foolish girl. Come with me,” her mother said
, and then took her down the hall to the door that led to the basement. They descended into the dark, musty space, and her mother uttered a few words. Almost instantly, the room illuminated from a light source that seemed to be everywhere. This was the first time that Lenorela witnessed magic, and she was instantly smitten by the possibilities.
“I see your eyes, Buttons,” her mother teased, using the pet name she had given her as a baby. “Mommy isn’t so dreadful now, is she?”
Lenorela shook her head slowly, even though she wasn’t so sure.
The room was tiny, even for Lenorela, and it looked as if it was carved out of limestone, like a cave, built to house something secretive. The uneven walls held numerous shelves lined with books, and in the center of the room was a circular wooden table. There were jewels, vials of liquids, and scrolls scattered on its surface. Cardboard boxes filled with more things were stacked beneath it, and Lenorela wondered why there were no chairs.
“Look to your left, child, and grab me the crimson book with the iron frame,” Lenorela’s mother said. Her voice had taken on a hard edge, even though she spoke in a low and even tone.
Sensing the change in her mother, Lenorela grabbed the book and pulled it out. The room rotated slowly when she did this, and a section of the wall receded, leaving an open space big enough for them to slip through. Her mother took her hand and led her through the narrow passageway into an even smaller room.
Lenorela gasped when the light revealed a fresco of marvelous detail that spanned the entire wall.
Her mother spoke. “Many ages ago, our ancestors were in a different world than this one, Lenny. It was a magical world with a golden sky and fields of flowers stretching as far as the eye can see. Love was everywhere, poetry, and songs. The people lived life beyond our limited imagination and supported one another as a family. We don’t know how long things remained this good for the ancients, but from what I’ve read it must have been thousands of years.
“Due to the peace that had always been their life, the ancients saw no need for security. Who were they going to secure themselves against when there was no conflict or long periods of misunderstanding? So, the ancients lived on peacefully. Each couple had multiple children, and each child in turn did the same when she came of age. Most children took to their parent’s example and the pattern of love continued. They were truly a great people, and hopefully one day we can go back to living the way they did.”
Lenorela waited for her mother to finish and wondered why the story had no point. Their ancestors lived in a utopia … well that sounded great, but the reality she knew was filled with angst and murder. Not an hour ago, this woman that spoke so highly of peace and love had bitten into the throat of another man. “Why are we in here, Mom?” she managed to ask.
Her mother’s eyes widened as if she had been in a daze and snapped back to reality. “When I was pregnant with you, I asked your father to take me away to a place that was void of violence. His friends told him to go see the village elder, which he did, and I never saw him again. When you were ready to be born, I woke up sick, and the elder came to see me. He explained that your father had made a deal with lord Chaos, a deal to get us transported to a peaceful world. I loved your father, Lenny, but he was naïve.”
Lenorela felt that her mother was rambling, because she was making no sense. Our ancestors lived in paradise, yet she and her husband were in a violent world? Which one was it? Lenorela thought. Her eyes drifted to the fresco and it was then that she began to understand.
The painting was a timeline. She had not noticed it before, because each transition had not been broken up or labeled as such. If you were to just look at it, you would see a crowd of people, and above them in one area of the wall was a blond-haired warrior. He was dressed in red and black armor and seated on a throne with numerous knights, all of them bloodied and dead on the steps leading up to him.
When Lenorela looked to the left of where he sat, the people were smiling, coupled together and holding hands. On his right, those same people were angry; some were fighting and others had discolored skin. There was a large battle happening in the distance behind them, and then the painting faded into the rock.
She pointed up at the man and looked at her mother. “Is this the person that made your world violent, Mother?” she asked.
Her mother nodded slowly. “I drained the man earlier because he was an agent of the V’Kosha,” she said. “An agent of, Chaos!” She jabbed her finger at the man on the throne. “They are everywhere, you know. They are prepping this world to become a farm for Chaos’s army. But more importantly, Lenny, they are here for you. Time and space in these border worlds mean nothing to the inhabitants of Yalem —our old world. Chaos was able to see your future, daughter, and he knows that you will grow into a powerful warrior.”
“Me, a warrior?” Lenorela said, stunned.
“It has been your destiny since the day we fled Yalem. But you will be a warrior for the Turevila instead. They are the knights that oppose Chaos. It is their cause that we have adopted, but it means that one day you will have to go back to Yalem.”
“Must I drink blood, if I am to be a warrior like you?” Lenorela asked.
“Magic comes with two costs, Lenny, one temporary and another permanent. The temporary price we pay is exhaustion, an exhaustion that can only be healed with Yalemite blood. The permanent cost will affect your offspring, just like mine has affected you.”
Lenorela balked at the concept, but she knew deep down inside that she would do anything to gain control of the magic.
Chapter Two
It was the sun that woke her, a strategic placement by Lenorela beneath one of the tall, arched windows at the top of the library tower. She lay on a soft cot with pillows everywhere, and the smell of spicy soup was overpowering.
Alysia awoke, confused, wondering whether or not this was reality or a dream she was having. A ray of wispy light shone down on her face, and it was an interesting texture of dust particles and lint. As her focus got better, she felt the soreness in her body, as if the marrow inside her bones had been removed and in its place was something hard and foreign.
It took everything within her not to scream out loud, but Lenorela saw her grimacing and placed a warm hand on her forehead. “It will pass,” she said. “I have had my fair share of bumps, sweetheart, and I can tell you that it is only temporary.”
“Does that mean you've gotten used to the pain?” Alysia asked, trying to push past the soreness.
“No. You never get used to it. That is why I had to get the rings. I needed armor and they were able to provide it.”
Alysia turned her head to meet her eyes and she stared at the red woman, intently. “Those awful creatures. They came for you. Do the people of the village know—?”
“They know it and they protect me, CeeCee, and I in turn protect them. Would you like to hear a story?”
“Please. I need the distraction to stop my mind from thinking about cracks and fissures inside my bones,” Alysia said.
“You have a vivid imagination, but it's good to hear your voice again,” Lenorela said. “Now. What was I saying? Oh, yes, the rings. Your onyx dragon and my ruby trident.” She spread her fingers before her and for the first time, Alysia studied her ring. It was a trident, bent in a circle so that the central tooth of the fork connected to the bottom of the haft. It was a blood-red color that seemed to pulsate as she held it in the sun.
“The Dragon and The Ruby. Now that sounds like a story. Where did you get them, Lenny, and why are those monsters after them?”
“Well, you've seen the rings in action, CeeCee, but you haven't seen what they can do when together. The bandit king, Loryn Syn, used them to bring this country to heel. He wore the trident on his left, which armored him in beautiful red scale plates, and on his right he wore your dragon while he wielded the stolen Ent sword, Bliss.”
“Whoa, whoa, slow down for a sec. Did you say that there's a swor
d named Bliss? Does it have anything to do with my Euphoria? You said it was an Ent—”
“Yes.” Lenorela sighed, as if she had suddenly grown tired. “When I slipped into Syn's bedchambers to steal the rings, I saw Bliss hanging above his bed. I made to steal it, but then his guards were on to me, and I only had energy left to transmit out. Now Syn has doubled his guards, and Bliss is out of my reach ... but I have you now, sister, and when you're strong, we can get you the twin to Euphoria.”
“What will it mean to have both swords?” Alysia asked.
“It will mean immense power for you, my dear. I will take back the dragon ring, and you will have both swords. Together we will become more than a match for the lord of Chaos.”
Alysia smirked at Lenorela. “What if one of us was to have all four talismans? Wouldn't that one person be enough?”
“Having four of these scions is what drove Loryn Syn to madness, my dear. He was once a great king, a beloved ruler of the Mee'ir. It's unwise to hold more than three. One is enough, as you have seen, and two, with training, is enough to take on anyone.”
“How do you know this, Lenny? Is it a guess?”
“I know it because the Ert knight, Rickert, once wielded both swords. He fought Chaos when they were both young in their ambitions, and he almost beat him, if not for the interference of Chaos's first wife. Rickert's fatal blow missed the tyrant and struck down Ayesha Leah instead. Chaos killed Rickert and hid his blades, but the Erts recovered Euphoria, and Loryn Syn found Bliss.”
“So now, along with closing the portals, we must find a sword hidden behind a horde of dem—I mean, thugs?” Alysia said. “Nothing’s been easy since that red-cloaked bastard stormed into my family’s hideout. I’ve done so much already. All that running, fighting, and … friends dying. He told me that I could save my world, heh. That ended up being a lie. Now I’m here, and I am being tasked to destroy him. But who am I? I’m just a chick from Jersey who lost her mom and dad.”
