Taerak's Void (Fantastica Book 1)

by M. R. Mathias

  Only Nixy's fingers running softly through his hair later released him from his thoughts and let sleep retake him.

  Thaelos woke them in a rush and told them if they wanted to see the body of the red dragon they would have to hurry and follow him. Nixy declined the offer, having no desire to see a dead dragon, and neither did Braxton for that matter, but Braxton wanted to know the answers to some things, and he knew he would only have a chance to find them if he went.

  Thaelos kept a swift pace, almost running through the forest. It was all Braxton could do to keep up with him without knocking himself senseless on a low hanging limb or tripping over some unseen obstacle or another. They ran on and on until Braxton was winded. He wasn't sure if he could keep up with the elf much longer. Thaelos must've noticed, for he graciously stopped and let Braxton gather himself. Then, after a few moments, the elf resumed but at a more moderate pace.

  They passed a small stream at a clearing. The little area reminded Braxton of the many times he and Davvy went trekking through the woods in Uppervale. The only difference was that, back then elves, dwarves, and dragons were make believe. He wondered what Davvy would think if he could see what Braxton was doing right now.

  Up ahead, he saw a whole area of trees all leaning heavily in the same direction. They all pointed to the mountainous scarlet mass that only hours ago was a majestic red dragon.

  This one hadn't expected to run into a blue twice its size, fighting with the savage protective instinct of motherhood. Braxton figured it was just bad luck the red had chosen this island to visit.

  It took a few minutes to negotiate the length of its back. The fallen trees, some broken, some uprooted, were strewn about like so much kindling. Braxton nearly tripped a dozen times because he wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the huge leathery wing sticking straight into the air like a ship's sail. Finally, they came to the charred head of the wyrm. The sheer size of it was unnerving. The head was so big it would be impossible to put it into the largest horse drawn wagon. Its teeth were as long as Braxton's arms and yellowed like old ivory. The one eyeball that was visible was milky and red. The long vertical slit that ran along its wagon wheel-sized diameter was black and empty. Braxton made his way to the dragon's midsection.

  It was the fore and hind claws he wanted to inspect. Satisfied that the foreclaws were not stained with the blue dragon's blood, he made his way toward the hind claws. His fear was realized when he saw that one of the claws were covered with thickening black blood and gristly tissue. He figured the blue wyrm had been gouged or ripped. How bad her wounds were would be impossible to know. As big as she was, a slash as long as he was tall was probably about as bad as a small knife cut on a man. That thought eased Braxton's concern considerably. Obviously, the blue dragon had flown away from the battle.

  Just to be sure there wasn't a similar blue mass somewhere around them, he climbed up the scaly dragon's tail and made his way up onto its body. He climbed to the highest point, which even with the dragon laying down, was easily three times taller than the tops of the trees. He looked all around searching for any signs, but the only blue he could see was the wide-open sky and the not so distant sea.

  Relieved that the hatchling still had a mother, he climbed back down and let Thaelos lead him back.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Pranthias was seated at the head of the table. Akavias stood beside him, speaking. "Here, gathered before the elms and maples, in all of Arbor's majesty, on the Isle of Jolin, we commence..."

  "Blasted Goth" Darblin yelled. "Get on with it. We'll all sink into the sea with yeer little dragon infested island if you don't stop prattlin' and let us converse." The dwarf was clearly hungover. The small amount of elven honey wine Braxton had consumed the night before ran thick in his veins, too. He couldn't imagine how bad the dwarf felt.

  "Prince Darblin," Pranthias said with narrowed brows. "Please remember where you are."

  "Or what?" The dwarf barked and rolled his eyes. "I'd rather die in this moment by a hundred blades than hear another bit of ceremonious rubble rabble. We have pressing matters to discuss." He looked at Braxton for support, then added under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear, "Not all of us get to live forever."

  Pranthias motioned for Akavias to give him his ear. Akavias leaned down and a few inaudible words were exchanged, after which Akavias left the clearing and disappeared back into the woods.

  They were seated at the same stone table they had feasted at the previous night. In attendance were Braxton and Nixy, who were seated on one side of the table at the end farthest from Pranthias. Across from them were the two dwarven princes. Pranthias sat at the head of the table and was flanked by Thaelos to his left, and on his right was an elf who hadn't attended the feast. He had been introduced as Vinston-Fret.

  "We are not opposed to receiving you to discuss these matters," Pranthias said diplomatically, as if the previous exchange hadn't ever happened. "But we are few, and as you stated plainly, we have more problems of our own than we can handle as it is. I am not sure we can help either of you, but say what you must say."

  Darblin looked pleased to see Akavias emerge from the trees with a tray of goblets. The elf proceeded to place one in front of each person at the table. Akavias placed two goblets in front of Darblin and moved quickly away. This caused a chuckle to go around.

  Darblin grabbed one of the goblets and began to drain it. Braxton decided to take the initiative and he turned to face Pranthias and spoke.

  "The aid I require, sir Pranthias," he said wondering again what title was appropriate for the elven leader "—is information. Pharark seeks something called the Sapphire of Souls. I must find it and destroy it before he can use it for evil. I was told the elves could point me in the right direction."

  "Told by who?" Pranthias asked. Vinston-Fret, the elf who hadn't been at the feast, faced Braxton, contently awaiting the answer.

  "Um, by uh…I was told by someone called Taerak." Braxton thought how unprepared he was for this. What if they ask who Taerak is? And after all, who was Taerak? Something that spoke to him in his dreams.

  "Impossible!" Pranthias said with wide eyes as he stood up and put his hands on the table. "Taerak hasn't been seen for two hundred years." His eyes met Braxton's, and their bright yellow hue faded to amber. "I was only a boy then." He stopped as if he just realized he spoke out loud.

  "I am afraid, Lord Braxton, that though we can point you in the right direction, we cannot tell you where the Sapphire of Souls is." Vinston-Fret shook his head and frowned. "I'm afraid it has been lost. But that story can wait a few moments, at least, for us to hear what Prince Darblin would say."

  Darblin looked up from his second goblet of honey wine. He seemed miffed that it was empty. With a grin at Braxton, Nixy discreetly slid hers across the table to him. "Yes.” He wiped some froth from his beard. "It seems that several things are happening in the mountains you call the Dragon Teeth and in the forest known as the Wilderkind. After learning that Pharark's evil has been loosed once again, me thinks he is somehow behind it all." He finished off the goblet in his hand, slammed it down on the table, and picked up the one Nixy slid him. He looked at Braxton for a moment, then to Pranthias, and then he belched long and loud. He then turned to his cringing brother. "Please, Gruval, continue, for I not be well when I'm out of the ground."

  Gruval cleared his throat, looking a little nervous at being put on the spot. "It seems that large groups of gothicans are moving south on the eastern side of the mountains to an encampment just north of the Denizen Swamp." He stood up in his seat, apparently finding the need to be seen as well as heard. "All through the foothills and lower mountains, bands of trolls and packs of kobls are gathering, as well. Our father thinks they are trying to cross over the mountains westward into Nepram."

  "That explains all the dragons," Braxton said more to himself than anyone else.

  "What about the dragons?" Vinston-Fret asked quickly.

  "I said that
explains your dragons." Braxton shrugged. "All that abnormal traffic in the teeth and the Wilderkind must have disturbed them. They must be moving about seeking new nests and lairs. That red probably didn't know the mother blue had nested here, at least not until she attacked him last night. This island will become open territory if her injuries are such that she cannot defend her claim anymore. Her hatchling may be in danger as well, especially if it is not yet able to hunt on its own."

  Vinston-Fret leaned forward, putting his elbows on the tabletop. He gave a quick doubtful look at Thaelos and Pranthias before speaking. "How could you know if she is injured or not?"

  "I had the opportunity to inspect the carcass of the red this morning," Braxton answered honestly. "One of its hind claws was bloody, and there were some ribbons of flesh and gristle, with a couple of blue scales, stuck there."

  Thaelos, seemingly unconcerned with the talk of dragons, asked the table, "What in the name of Arbor would the gothicans want to invade Nepram for?"

  "I can answer that," came an unfamiliar, gravelly voice from the edge of the clearing. A stooped over, bald-headed man stepped out of the trees. He was old and wrinkled and clearly human and was followed by a wide-eyed young woman who also had no hair on her head. Braxton had no idea where they'd come from, but their clothes suggested they were practitioners of the arcane.

  They wore ankle-length high collared black robes, his embroidered with silver bands at the belled wrists and collar, hers embroidered with red. Upon seeing the dwarves seated at the table, the girl stepped behind the old man as if she were trying to keep him between herself and the stumpy brothers.

  "Debain," Pranthias said, nodding his head in an odd show of respect. Braxton was amazed. Master Bee had sent him to find this apparently well-known wizard. "It has been a few years, Old One. Is that Suclair with you?"

  "Yes, yes it is. I think the dwarves have startled her." He reached back and brought her to his side, keeping his arm around her lovingly. "It's all right, dear, they are only dwarves."

  The girl's face flushed, but she gathered herself quickly enough. "Don't speak to me like I’m a child, Father."

  Akavias stood and made introductions all around then left. More chairs were brought in. Suclair sat on the human side of the table in between Nixy and Vinston-Fret while her father sat across from her between Gruval and Thaelos. When everyone seemed comfortably seated, Pranthias spoke to them all.

  "Debain was just about to tell us why the gothicans would want to take Nepram."

  "Yes, yes I was," the old man said. His eyebrows were thick and gray and gave him the look of a wise old owl. "If you remember Pranthias, King Frenak, I think it was, gave Nepram to his cousin Rhenwald as a reward for his role in driving the gothicans into the northern teeth. This left the lowlands safe for the people to settle."

  Akavias appeared again and passed fresh goblets around the table.

  Braxton hoped the history lesson would end soon. He had heard all this before as told by Master Finn. In fact, he had heard it every year for twelve years of his life. He was anxious to hear about the Sapphire of Souls and how the elves could have lost such a thing. He started to wonder if —

  "Grrruuummmp!" Darblin belched again.

  Everyone at the table ignored the rude dwarf.

  "The reason for giving Nepram to King Rhenwald was quite genius. King Frenak was scared of the wood trolls and the hungry things that lived in the swamp. Sometimes, they would roam right out of the Wilderkind or through the marshes into the open plains to the south. By giving Frenak the land of Nepram, he also gave Frenak the headache of fending off all that nature. Nepram became a buffer that kept the people of Narvoza safe from the swamp creatures." Debain paused and sipped from his goblet.

  Braxton hadn't grasped what all this meant but, apparently, Nixy had, and for the first time, she made her presence known. "They're not going to attack Nepram, they are going to attack Narvoza."

  The old man grinned at Nixy, probably because she had been paying attention. "Yes." He nodded. "And what is worse, King Barden just sent all his available troops to battle the gothicans raiding the encampments and outposts in the north. It seems they have planned this well."

  "Or Pharark has planned it well," blurted out the thoroughly smashed Darblin.

  Debain looked at the dwarf curiously. "It seems that I have missed an important part of these proceedings. We only came to Jolin to inquire about the nature of last night's brilliant aerial display. Suclair witnessed it all through a device used to study astronomical events. When she told me what she had seen, I was alarmed and —"

  A distant roar cut through the air, and Braxton could feel the dragon's pain. It caused him to scream out as well, startling everyone at the table.

  "What in the hells is that?" Debain asked.

  The amulet hanging at Braxton's neck flared brightly when the pain struck him. A few deep breaths later, he was able to answer the bald-headed old wizard. "That was a mother dragon in pain."

  Braxton wanted to seek out the wyrm and see if they could do anything to help it, but Debain began questioning everyone about Pharark. When one of the dwarves mentioned the Sapphire of Souls Braxton forgot about the dragon for the moment.

  "It was spring when we lost it," Pranthias began. "Our sect of elves numbered less than a hundred back then. Taerak came out of the sky, a giant falcon or a hawk maybe, and as soon as it landed, he was a man. Back then, you could still make it from here to the mainland with only a small boat, or you could even wade for that matter. The land bridge, as it was called before the sea swallowed it up, was passable. That's where I was when I saw him land and change shapes just like that. I remember I found it terribly exciting, and my friends and I followed him out here to the island." He paused and sipped his wine, clearly trying to remember details. "It was me, my sister, and another woman who saw him first land. He walked to our little village and asked to speak with the eldest. They held counsel, and from here on, my story is second hand as told to me by my brother, who was old enough to be at the table.

  "Taerak presented a beautiful sapphire he said was used by Ozimar, the great creator. He said that the elves, being the children of Arbor, who were created with the stone had a duty to guard it and, in return, it would eventually lead us to a land we could call our own. Then Taerak had one of our people show him the way to Halden. Taerak walked to the shanty of one of our traders, gathered some supplies, and then at the edge of our village, leapt into flight. He was never seen again.

  "We guarded the Sapphire of Souls for more than a hundred years, but it was eventually decided, since it was supposed to lead us to a new land of promise and hope, we would send it with three of our bravest, one of whom was my brother. I wanted so badly to go on that journey, but I am firstborn and was not permitted."

  "What is firstborn?" Suclair asked politely. "You said your older brother went on this journey. You were not the firstborn."

  "Young sorceress," he complimented her. "I was the first elf born in this land. The others, including my brother, were all from the old world. I am the first elf able to truly call this land my home." He made a gesture to Akavias, who left quickly.

  "Where was I?" he asked.

  "The expedition," Debain said before Braxton could.

  "Ah, yes. The expedition," Pranthias continued. "Three elves and eleven humans, ten of them considered seasoned fighters, for they were some of the men who forcibly cleared out the brutal gothicans from modern Narvoza, and the other man a mapmaker, all set out.

  "The elves hoped the Sapphire of Souls would do as Taerak said and lead them to the promised land. They left in the spring, but in the fall, only one returned. Eleven humans and two elves, along with the Sapphire of Souls, had all been consumed by the Wilderkind Forest."

  Vinston-Fret harrumphed and shared a long look with Pranthias. After a moment, the firstborn elf shook his head in the negative.

  "Why, Uncle?" Vinston-Fret exploded up from his seat in a flurry of waving hands and ang
ry grunts. "Why can't I lead them? I will succeed where my father failed. It was our duty to protect the Sapphire. I've heard this tale a thousand times, and I have the maps."

  "No, Vinston, you will not," Pranthias said coldly. "Taerak betrayed us. The Sapphire of Souls led us nowhere. Its promised hope cost me the life of my father, my uncle, and the sanity of my brother. It will not take my nephew."

  "But don’t you see?" Vinston-Fret argued passionately. "Here, we are already dead. We are the sons of Arbor, yet we cannot hunt, we cannot explore, we cannot be free of this ocean-bound prison."

  "You have a son and a daughter," Pranthias said sternly. "I will not let this foolishness take their father away from them."

  "That's just it Pranthias," Vinston-Fret said, stepping up to his uncle, causing him to rise and meet him face-to-face. "I would rather them know I died searching for their future, a future where they can be elves, not prisoners. I am ashamed when my son asks me what it's like to hunt the stag or run with the mountain stream. My daughter brings tears to my very soul when she asks me about the eagles and the wolves. I will lead them, Pranthias, and you will have to kill me to stop me."

  Vinston-Fret stepped back and Pranthias dropped his head. "Pranthias, we can cower like curs no more." He wiped a tear from his eye and turned and stared at Braxton for a moment. His expression went ashen. "I'm sorry, Uncle." And with that, he turned and disappeared into the forest.

  Chapter Twenty