“You survived that?” Dudley asked, gesturing behind them.
Turning in the saddle, Lucius saw the towering blaze that engulfed miles of Ithileo’s woodlands.
“Just barely,” he said.
“Please tell me you killed it,” Dudley said, exasperation audible in his voice.
Lucius' shoulders sagged and he shook his head. “No. The Black Dragon still lives.”
Chapter 8
“We're almost there!” Violet said to the entourage around her.
The last few days, she had traveled nearly three miles north to her hometown of Sylvania. She knew the city she once called home would no longer be standing after the recent attack by the dragons. Nearly a day ago, they could still see smoke rising from the smoldering ruins. She had spent most of her adult life in Sylvania and could scarcely face the reality of its demise. As she drew closer to the city, she felt a sudden sadness overcome her. Although she never lived inside the sprawling town, there were countless people who came to her cottage for cures and remedies over the years. She could barely remember all the names and faces throughout her time here. But knowing so many of her friends and acquaintances had likely perished in the devastation gripped her like a steel vice.
“How long did you live in Sylvania?” Lya asked.
The wingless faerie balanced herself on the pommel of Homer’s saddle. Over the winter, Violet and Lya had developed a close bond. Lya shared a room in Gilead Palace with both Violet and Avani.
Well, sharing was a generous way of putting it, Violet thought.
Lya lived inside a dollhouse that the dwarf, Ulric, built for her which sat on the top of Violet’s dresser. She thought a small toy-like dwelling would be an insult to a sovereign of the Gwyltref faeries. But to her surprise, Lya cherished the wooden doll house and couldn’t stop thanking Ulric for the home every time she saw him in the halls.
Violet turned her attention back to Lya’s question and thought on the answer.
“I lived in that city for eighteen years. Many of the tradesmen and their wives knew me as the good witch of Sylvania. It was a lovely namesake, they’d tell you. Apparently, they had much more vicious titles for actual witches,” she replied.
Caldwell scoffed as he sidled up beside them. “It is the stubborn perspective of simple folk to compare our practices to mere witchery and superstition.”
The elder physician grew annoyed with the traditional views of healers and apothecaries and dogs not hesitate to voice his opinion. But despite his brusque manner, Violet grew to respect and admire Dr. Caldwell. He had become like a second father to her.
Bringing up the rear behind them, Morton and a small contingent of the Royal Guard followed them closely. Morton, she had learned, was once a fellow Drachengarde member under Silas’ command more than a year ago. But the young warrior had suffered an injury to his shoulder that left his right arm lame. Seeing his worth as an officer, Silas reassigned him as a lieutenant in the Royal Guard. It was a post that didn’t require much direct combat. However, Morton would argue with anyone that despite his infirmity, he was still capable on the battlefield.
“Lady Violet, do you intend to see the wreckage in the city?” Morton asked.
Violet shook her head. “I’m not sure if my nerves could handle that, commander. Besides the talo fern that we seek grows near my cottage. If there’s time afterward, we can visit the city and check on the state of things.”
“Very well,” Morton said.
About a week ago, Violet had gotten her first glimpse of crow’s blight in the peasant district of Aldron. She had accompanied Caldwell on one of his many visits to the area and was shocked at the state of those suffering the disease. They tended to a mother with four children very near to death’s door. Each of the children had dark spots on their skin coupled with red splotches around their cheeks. The two boys and two girls all laid on thin cots spread on the ground of their hovel, coughing severely every few minutes. Violet and Caldwell took precautions to ensure they did not contract the disease themselves. They wore masks that covered their mouths and noses and leather gloves to avoid direct skin contact.
The mother, named Darlene, also had spots on her skin, but they were not as dark as those on her children. She was also much more lucid than either of her children.
“Please my Lord. Help me children! They’re all I have in this world now that me husband has gone to Caelum—Yéwa rest his soul,” Darlene said, grabbing Caldwell’s forearm.
“There, there mother. We’ll do what we can to ease their pain and cure the devil’s work,” Caldwell said, smiling beneath his mask.
The short, older man with a balding head and pasty complexion had a wonderful bedside manner when attending his patients. Despite the curmudgeon Violet knew him to be, he was quite tender when he cared for his patients. They gave the children a medicinal formula to ingest every few hours to numb the pain. But Caldwell knew this was a temporary relief, and he’d conveyed that to Violet.
“I’ve seen this stage before. Once spots appear and darken, they have little time left. Two weeks or maybe a month if they’re lucky. But that’s being generous,” he said, shaking his head.
They saw numerous patients at different stages of crow's blight that day. The sickness and those who suffered from it had left a giant impression upon Violet. Not only were these poor folk struggling to survive in their meager shacks and half-burned neighborhoods, they now had to contend with a deadly epidemic.
“I can’t wait to see my brother and the other faeries,” Lya said, stirring Violet from her memory. “They probably think I’m dead. It’ll be quite a shock for my brother, I’m sure. Especially the lack of wings and all.”
Violet smiled at her. For weeks Lya had gone on and on about her brother, Klik, the King of Gwyltref. She recounted the tragic loss of their father many years ago her subsequent departure from the Burning Woods on account of her grief. The faerie endured much at a young age and even more so under the torturous hands of the Draknoir. But she had a resilient spirit and compassionate heart that impressed Violet. Perhaps that’s why their relationship had blossomed in such a short time. Lya had an infectious personality—she was overly optimistic and quick to forgive any fault. Quite the opposite compared to Violet's closest friend, Avani.
“I’m sure your brother will be overjoyed to see his little sister again,” Violet replied.
“I sure hope so,” Lya said, sitting down on the pommel. Her little body bounced with each clop of Homer’s hooves. “You sure it’s no trouble to take me into the woods? I know you’re on a very important mission and I don’t want to delay you.”
“Of course not. How guilty would I feel if I didn’t allow you to reunite with your people when we’re practically at their door? We’ll manage just fine.”
The party continued on the Barren Road for another hour until Violet spotted the familiar game trail that led away from the road and into the woods. She took one long glance at the smoking ruins of Sylvania in the distance and sighed heavily.
I will return, she thought.
As they wound through the trail, they eventually came to a shallow clearing. If memory served her right, they would soon approach the cottage. But in the distance she spotted something curious. A large boulder sat several feet from the path. She’d never seen it before and she’d traveled this way countless times. Morton read her confused gaze and came to a stop beside her.
“Something wrong, my lady?” He asked.
“I’m not sure. I don’t remember ever seeing that rock there before,” she replied.
Morton stared at the boulder for a moment and shrugged. “You’ve been gone almost a year. Perhaps someone moved it here?”
“But there aren’t any quarries nearby and why would anyone put a rock in the middle of the game trail? It’s odd.”
“Folks who live in the country do many odd things, my lady,” he said, then quickly realized his gaffe and added, “that is... not all country folk, of course. You know,
just those who settle miles from anywhere with no societal contact.”
“Like an apothecary in a lonely cottage in the forest?” she suggested, feigning indignation.
The commander squirmed in the saddle and struggled to find a way out of his predicament.
After a few seconds, Violet ended his torment and smiled. “I’m not upset, Lieutenant Morton. But you might do well to give us country folk a little more credit. We’re not all crazy hermits who roll stones for amusement,” she said.
Morton nodded, his cheeks flushed. “Forgive my impudence, my lady,” he said.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she replied. “Now let’s move on before the daylight escapes us.”
The company moved toward the boulder and as they drew closer, the rock seemed to increase in size. Violet figured it was just a trick of her eyes since their perspective on the object had changed. But then she heard a low rumbling sound. She turned to ask Morton and the others if they heard it, but the words hardly left her mouth when the boulder moved.
The boulder was not a solitary rock as they previously thought. It was actually a collection of rocks obscured by the larger boulder facing them. And all of these rocks were moving on top of each other to create one large hulking mass that resembled a person. The largest boulder served as its torso and the smaller rocks configured themselves into arms, legs, and a head.
“Cervantes’ ghost!” Caldwell exclaimed as he looked up at the towering golem.
“Tok!” Lya cried, a large smile formed on her face. “Tok, it’s me, Lya—what are you doing out here? Where’s my brother?”
“You know this thing?” Violet asked, unable to peel her eyes away from the hulking creature.
“Oh yes. This is Tok the golem. He protects the faeries of the Burning Woods from all kinds of threats and danger. But he rarely ventures outside of the forest.
The golem took a few steps closer to them causing the horses to nicker anxiously. Morton and the six accompanying guardsmen drew their swords, but Violet didn't think metal against rock would do much good. She relayed the thought to Morton, who shrugged, seemingly aware of the futility.
“Lya, can you talk to it?” Violet asked.
“I can try. Tok, it’s Lya! Don’t you remember me?”
The golem cocked his head to the side and seemed to stare at the faerie for a minute. Since the creature had no eyes, it was impossible to know whether he could see anything at all. Then Violet heard that low rumbling again. It was the sound of rocks grinding against each other and she realized this was a form of communication.
“He says we are trespassing on the claimed property of King Klik,” Lya said.
Violet frowned. “I thought the faeries lived in the forest. This land borders Sylvania and isn’t claimed by anyone, it’s free from any monarchy or lordship.”
Lya repeated this to the golem who made a dismissive gesture with his rock hand. “He says we must follow him and speak with the King immediately. Apparently, my brother is residing in a new hall,” she said.
“I detest political quandaries like this,” Caldwell chimed in, shaking his head bitterly. “Let’s get this over with so we can perform our duties for the people of Aldron.”
Violet nodded. “All right... Tok. Lead us to your king.”
The golem led them further down the game trail and closer to the edge of the Burning Woods. After cresting a hill, Violet could see her cottage less than a mile away. She frowned at the sight of hundreds of faeries flitting about her home. Many of them seem to be lounging about on the thatched roof of the cottage. As they descended the hill, she realized they weren't just flying and perching on the roof, but had made tiny homes from twigs and leaves.
"What in the blazes is going on here?" Violet said.
"I think my brother might be taking up residence in your cottage," Lya replied.
When they were within a stone's throw of the cottage Tok stretched out his arm and gestured for them to stop. They waited for a moment until a single faerie approached them. This faerie looked to be a male and had a brilliant yellowish glow about him. Violet had erroneously thought that all the faeries shared a similar hue to their illuminated bodies. Lya had an orange glow very much resembling a candle light, but many of the hundreds of faeries around them glowed in a spectrum of colors. It looked as though a moving rainbow surrounding them.
The yellow faerie flew up to Tok and spoke with the golem in a hushed tone. He then descended to address the party.
"Greetings, my name is Syl, I am the Royal Head Faerie of the honorable King Klik. Would you kindly state your business here?" The little faerie said.
"My business here happens to be my home! That cottage that you've sequestered without permission," Violet replied.
"Oh. Well then, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the king has claimed this cottage and the surrounding land for all faeriehood. It has been dubbed the Displaced Provincial Annexation of Gwyltref," Syl declared enthusiastically.
"The Displaced—what?" Caldwell asked.
"Displaced Provincial Annexation of Gwyltref. We're working on the name, but we had to come up with something after losing our realm inside the burning woods," he said.
"You've lost our realm?" Lya said, her mouth agape. "How did brother manage that?"
Syl hadn't noticed Lya previously and now his small eyes widened as he scrutinized the faerie. "Princess Lya? Is that really you?"
Lya dismissed his shock with a wave of her hand. "Nevermind that! Where is my brother? Take me to him at once!"
"Er, yes — of course, your highness. Please follow me," Syl said. The head faerie swooped away from them toward the cottage. Violet and the others dismounted the horses and followed. She helped Lya onto her shoulder where her small companion sat and held on to her collar as Violet walked. At the door, a dozen faeries with small swords and primitive armor blocked the way. Syl commanded them to move aside and Violet watched each of them stare in stunned silence at Lya as they walked past. The news of the returning faerie princess quickly spread through the mass of faeries outside the cottage and hundreds of whispers declared that King Klik's sister had returned home.
Inside the cottage, Violet could not hold back a gasp when she looked around her modest home. The faeries had completely transformed the interior. Little dwellings made of sticks, leaves, and rocks could be seen around every nook and cranny her eyes beheld. Faerie dust covered nearly all surfaces from the constant motion of the faeries bodies. Potted plants and fresh flowers were everywhere in the sitting room to mimic the look of a lush forest. Atop the mantle of her fireplace a throne made of tree branches stood. On the primitive throne sat a single figure holding a wooden scepter and wearing a crown of rose petals.
"Who dares trespass my hall unannounced?" King Klik asked incredulously.
"Your Majesty, these are not mere interlopers—" Syl began, but was immediately cut off by the king.
"Silence! I've told you before, no unannounced visitors. But now that you've brought them into my home, what do they want?"
Violet stepped forward, trying desperately to maintain her composure in light of what this arrogant monarch had done to her home. "Your Majesty, I am Violet Pulfer and this hall you claimed for your kingdom is actually my home."
"This dwelling was abandoned and since our kingdom is... currently displaced, this cottage suits our needs perfectly. Now I will ask you to —"
The king's eyes drifted from Violet to Lya, who now stood up and caught her brother's attention. Like the other faeries, Klik expressed genuine shock at seeing his sister.
"Lya? Is it really you? I thought," his voice trailed off when he noticed the stumps where her wings should be. A sudden scowl formed on his face and he drew a sword from the belt at his hip. "What have these human savages done to you? You dare mutilate my sister and claim my throne as your own? Guards! Seize these barbarians and take Lya from them."
Dozens of faeries with swords in light armor flew around them in a dizzying array of li
ghts and screams. Prior to that moment, Violet had no inclination to fear these tiny folk, but now with their speed and flashing blades, she feared they might cut them to ribbons.
Behind her, she heard Morton unsheathe his sword and the Royal Guard followed the action. She reached out and clutched his forearm.
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Morton," she said.
The lieutenant raised an eyebrow at her, but nodded his understanding. All the faeries formed and impenetrable wall around them with their swords pointed outward.
"Klik, stop this!" Lya said. "These are my friends and they had nothing to do with the loss of my wings."
Klik regarded her thoughtfully, but his eyes conveyed suspicion when he exchanged looks with the others. After an awkward silence, the king finally nodded to his guards, and they broke away from them. The faeries flew back to their King, but still held their swords at the ready.
"Sister, how I've longed to see your face again. I thought you had perished all these years past. Why did you run away?" Klik asked. His voice taking on a gentler tone.
"I left because I missed father and mother. My grief was overwhelming. And I couldn't stand what you were becoming," she said.
"What do you mean?" Klik asked.
"You were angry and bitter towards everyone. The power of the monarchy went to your head and turned you into this. Nobody dared challenge your authority because faeries are always loyal to their kings and queens. But I knew why you had changed. It was grief. You wouldn't grieve like I needed to. And you went on and on about how much you hated the elves, especially the one who killed father. Don't you remember what father taught us about revenge?"
Klik frowned and turned his gaze away from her. "I remember everything he taught us."
"Then why didn't you act upon it? Why did you allow yourself to hate and dwell in anger?"
"Because the elves took away our father! They killed him. And I nearly had the chance to enact that revenge on the cursed elf who is to blame for all of this. Siegfried Silverhart was this close to being executed at my hands. But I honored father's legacy. Once he and his companion brought Tok back to us from those repugnant banshees, I let the elf go." Klik explained. A look of regret passed over him and he shook his head. "I should have killed him. Maybe we would still be in the Burning Woods if I did."
Keep of Dragons (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 3) Page 10
