Flight of the Dragon Knight

by D. C. Clemens

  The regicide was of medium build. His pastel skin reminded me of the northerners I had come across in Etoc and Uthosis. Whatever his ancestry, his people did not see as much sunlight as those from the south. Thick strands of his black hair hung above his thin eyebrows and his short beard hid part of his gaunt cheeks. His height had him between me and my father, the same as his age. Narrow lips expressed nothing at all. Small eyes of jet black were buried deep within their sockets, and they held an aspect of unconcern for the approaching warriors. This was a man who had seen much, most of it unhappy.

  When he came right up to the barrier, Eudon asked him, “Who are you? Can you hear me?”

  “Words may pass this ward,” answered the Advent, his voice like an iceberg, cold and deep.

  “Master Hallam,” I began to say, not wholly convinced that I should finish. But since I already started, I continued with, “This is the Advent that… that killed the queen.”

  The next instant had the arrow of lightning expand to become as thick as his arm. Then it flew forward, crashing against the barrier and exploding in a splintering crackle of lemony electricity. The dark ward rippled like a banner in a tempest as it repelled the lightning that still sheathed its surface.

  It was impossible for the Advent not to have flinched, but the flashes obscured his original reaction. All he did as Eudon prepared another arrow was calmly say, “I hoped we could speak first. I prefer to avoid violence when possible.”

  “Tell that to my wife!”

  Ignoring a tone that shook the columns, the Advent said, “But your daughters yet live, Master Hallam. If you care for their wellbeing, then I suggest you make an effort to listen to my proposal.”

  “The words of a murderer mean nothing to me. And I can already assume you wish for us to leave this place and in exchange you’ll spare the lives of my daughters.”

  “Not only their lives, but the lives of thousands of your people. If you still count them as such. As of this moment Alslana is immune from any attack by Advent allies in Voreen and Oclor, whether they know to be under our influence or not. It would be a pointless war without any direct benefits to the goals of my master and I. Only needless death will be the consequence of you persisting to delve deeper here.”

  I had a feeling Eudon’s next words would end the discussion, so I took the initiative to ask, “Your master? Care to tell us more about him?”

  The end of a slow blink had the Advent shifting his attention to me. “You must be Cyrus Eberwolf, correct? You look very much like Alexandros.”

  “Alex?” said my father, taking a big step closer to the Advent. “He’s alive?”

  “Yes. That must make you Lorcan Eberwolf, then. You’ve sired two intriguing young men. My master takes particular interest in Cyrus.” The Advent stared back at me with unemotional calculation. “If memory serves, it was your flame which nearly exhausted the barrier in Alslana. This in turn means that you summoned the dragon that soared over the skies that day. Odd, since my master senses no change between the realms of dragon and Orda.”

  I felt more than saw the gazes of the lieutenant and his men. “Your master again,” I said. “Who is he? A fallen god?”

  “No, but his influence will be greater.”

  “You’ve already woken him up?” asked Lucetta.

  “Yes.”

  “Uh, can we meet him?”

  “No, madam. He is far from here already.”

  “Then why do you remain?” asked the lieutenant.

  “If anyone chooses to fight their way through, then you will likely discover that answer, at the cost of a peaceful Alslana, of course. Many lives here will also perish in the attempt. Will it be worth it, Master Hallam? Thousands of lives to get across this door? Even if I do die here and now, nothing will change. Do you think I am the first of my master’s vassals? Or the last? Our plans have stretched for centuries before this day and will stretch centuries more.”

  “These plans,” I said, “what do they entail?”

  “My master wishes to lead humanity beyond our current limitations.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Lucetta.

  “It will mean many things, madam. Much of it beyond this generation. For now, my master will recover his strength and his vassals will continue to prepare his coming.”

  “Excuse me,” said Ghevont, “have you ever met Riskel Rathmore?”

  The Advent lowered his head and closed his eyes a moment. When he rose them both back up, he said, “The second biggest mistake of my life. I met him all but once, yet I underestimated his potential for meddling. You are his son, then?”

  “Yes. I am Ghevont Rathmore. You couldn’t have been more than a child when you met him.”

  “My appearance is misleading. I have looked much the same for the better part of a century. My master’s power has given me an extended life, though it is unnatural. I assure you, my soul feels quite drained of its former youth.”

  “You sound as if death will be a pleasure for you,” said the king, his bow still ready to release its golden arrow. “Allow me to deliver on that desire.”

  “Perhaps I do not fear it, but I yet have reasons for living. For one, it’s my hope that I can avoid needless bloodshed. Regrettably, your wife’s holy prana was necessary to initiate my master’s full awakening, but Alslana no longer need be involved with Advent concerns.”

  “But Alslana is very much concerned with you.”

  “Alslana? Or you? Can you honestly tell yourself that the desire to avenge your wife is worth creating thousands of new widows and widowers?”

  “You pretend to control so much, but whether you say so or not, war was always going to be a strong possibility after her murder. And no matter what you say, your actions will lead to more pointless death.”

  “I cannot say I don’t understand your blind fury. So be it.”

  The Advent squatted and splayed his hand on the ground. Eudon let loose his arrow, but almost everyone else paid attention to the shuddering walls. There was a loud clank followed by the grinding of rock. Large sections of the walls lowered, releasing a much louder crescendo of yawning snarls and flogging chains. One of the impatient snarls slammed into the wall before it lowered completely.

  Assuming getting to the other side was Eudon’s goal, I tossed a pair of dragon stones by the barrier. I noticed on the stone’s combustion that the Advent was walking away, but Eudon’s attacks and my growing flame thwarted a view of his progress. Other assaults coming from Ghevont’s bluish electric spell and streams of regular fire added their impact. As I fed the dragon flame my prana, turning it into a twister of fire, the rasping segments of rock vanished beneath the floor completely, giving way to a charging herd of heavy stomps and sickly howls.

  “Trolls!” shouted several soldiers.

  The next splattering arrow tore dozens of little holes in the ward. I focused my flames on the largest one I could find and sent my flames into it. Like voracious army ants finding an orifice on a dead elephant, the dragon’s power ate at the wounded barrier. The barrier cracked like glass and rippled like water. A final arrow frayed open a man-sized hole, giving Aranath’s flames more leverage. I eased my grip on the dragon fire, but as soon as I did, the barrier began to rapidly reform.

  “Uh, one of the trolls is charging this way!” said Clarissa.

  A second surge of prana jumped from my outstretched left arm to the flame. I expanded the blaze around the barrier’s inner perimeter, eating it right up to the stone.

  “Go!” I told Eudon. “I can only hold this for a few more seconds!”

  Eudon jumped through the ring of fire. At the same time Turell, a pair of prana finders, and two stone specialists followed their captain, Lorcan ordered Thoris and his pirate team to back them up. Lorcan and Lucetta then ran behind me to intercept the troll. I turned my head back to get a look at the charging ten foot troll, seeing that blotches of its hide looked bruised. Bulging black veins around its trio of bloodshot eyes told me of its corr
upted condition. Heavy chains were still connected to its leg irons and shackles.

  “They’re through, Mercer!” said Clarissa.

  I sucked back the flames toward my body, then spun around to launch the boiling comet at the troll’s frothing face. The mad beast didn’t even try to evade. The fireball hit two of its three eyes. It cried out, its fragmented sight causing more mental distress than physical pain.

  “Aim for its left leg!” said Lorcan. “We gotta trip the bastard up! Then go for the throat!”

  A rectangular red ward cast by Ghevont appeared in front of the specified limb. The leg shattered it, but it did throw the troll off balance. This was when my father propelled a gale of air at its foot. The troll stumbled. Clarissa’s whip of water wrapped around its right arm, pulling it down. In a blink Lucetta jumped onto the pinned arm to climb on to the troll’s back. The troll’s roar was cut to a gurgling grumble when the piratess stabbed her long dagger into the side of its neck. Even this wound wasn’t going to stop it from thrashing what life it had left, but my sword entering its skull by way of its center eye did.

  We moved to aid the soldiers combating the dozen other freed trolls. However, before I got far, I stopped running when I noticed Clarissa had done so. The others imitated us. The vampire stared inside the wall opening our dead troll had come from. Hardly any light from the hall reached the large enclosure, but her keen night vision picked up what none of us could not.

  “There are two people walking toward us. One big guy and one less large. They’re both wearing plate armor underneath their red cloaks. The bigger guy is holding two big battle-axes. The other is carrying a shield and a sword.”

  I could begin to see the rough silhouettes of what she was describing at the beginning of her last sentence. The jostling of their metal plates also reached us.

  “Lucetta and I will take on the big guy,” said Lorcan.

  We backed up so that a column added a helpful impediment to people less protected than the enemy. A second obstacle appeared in the form of Ghevont’s ward, which was rapidly cast in reaction to an electrical spark produced by the right battle-axe. The white surge struck the ward an instant later, breaking it, but it had done its job. Ghevont had another ward up a second later, proving that his casting speed was finally becoming instinctive.

  The incoming duo upped their pace, bringing their forms under a stronger light. Each Advent wore all-encompassing steel helmets. A large horizontal slit at eye level gave them access to the world around them, though the smaller warrior also had four smaller slots lining the mouth area. The triangular shield was gilded or made from a silvery metal.

  Lorcan and Lucetta moved to the left while Clarissa and I sidestepped to the right. The big guy slashed at the ward to destroy it, then dashed for his opponents. Looking to prevent a crowded battlefield, the pirates drew their foe away from my group. The smaller one stopped walking, then took a deep breath. An icy exhale exited the cavities.

  “Cyrus,” said the corrupted warrior, his voice gentle, but like cracked ice.

  My corruption swirled inside its barrier like an angry baby too long in the womb, bubbling the blood leaving my heart. His shield hand rose to grip his helmet, removing it and letting it drop to the floor. Except for the much shorter hair and pronounced veins, it was as though his head mirrored my own. A gasping Clarissa even started to say, “Mercer, he looks almost exactly li-”

  “I know. I can see him, too.”

  “Mercer?” asked my little brother.

  “A name I chose myself after forgetting the first. I assume yours is still Alex.”

  “Assume? You don’t recognize me?”

  “I don’t remember you. It seems your corruption has taken less from you.”

  “No, not taken. It has only given.”

  I gripped my hilt tighter and slowly reached into my pocket. “How deeply was the mind rune cut into your back? Mine had me working for a criminal syndicate after the Advent threw me away.”

  “I’m sorry for what they did to you, bu-”

  “And what of Nathaniel? Do you remember him? Is he with you? Dead?”

  “They told me he died, just as I thought you had. Then Thanatis tells me he saw someone who looked a lot like me in Alslana, summoning dragon fire, no less.”

  “Fascinating,” said Ghevont. “Corrupted, believed known acquaintances to be dead, and yet seems to be aiding the cult responsible for such crimes.”

  Alex slammed his chest with his sword wielding fist. “I’m aiding what’s left of my family! I’ll protect them from what’s coming!”

  “By helping the Advent kill others?” I said.

  “They’ll kill with or without me, and someday I’ll be strong enough to protect who I want.” He calmed back down with a sigh. “If you’ve really forgotten me, big brother, then you’ve also forgotten how sickly I was. I couldn’t run fifty feet before getting nauseous and dizzy. I was stuck indoors, friendless and pathetic while you got to run off and play anytime you wanted. Now I’m more than just strong—there’s meaning in my actions.”

  A hurt grunt from Lucetta reminded me to quicken the family reunion. “You sound confused to me, little brother. I don’t know what you went through or what you believe you are now, but I do know that you’ll have to kill two family members today if you don’t help me defeat the Advent.”

  “Two? Who’s the second?”

  “The man fighting your armored companion is our father.”

  “Lorcan? The pirate who abandoned mother?”

  “According to Rosemary, I’m sure. I only know him as the man who started looking for us when he learned we were abducted.”

  “Took his sweet time to care.”

  “Are you going to stand in the way, Alex?”

  “I might ask you the same, Cyrus. Do you even care that fighting the Advent will put Rosemary and the others in danger? Do you even know what you’re up against? It wouldn’t matter if you could summon ten dragons. It’s far too late to stop them. The master is gone from here and he’ll only get stronger. The Advent have been gathering supporters for decades, showing those worthy a taste of their potential. No one refuses after that. You can’t possibly kill them all, more will just pop up.”

  “There’s no ‘we’ or ‘us’ in that speech, Alex. I don’t think you’ve even convinced yourself what you’re doing is right. Come with father and me and we’ll help get your head straight.”

  “I’m the one who’s seeing everything clear! Your resistance will only lead to your death, the death of your friends. Our family! The Advent don’t want to destroy Orda, they wish to make us stronger, better. Once the world sees what he can do, your opposition will be a minority opinion. Corruption, dragon fire, no power from another realm will be a threat to Orda once he’s done.”

  “Lofty goals, Alex, but I still don’t trust your resolve.”

  “There’s one way to test it.”

  I threw the dragon stone in my hand, igniting it in midair. He did the smart thing and rolled away from the surge of dragon fire I rained down on him. Clarissa’s water whip was blocked by his shield. The piece of whip that struck the shield froze and shattered. More of the water would have frozen if the vampire didn’t pull back.

  “Damn it!” said Clarissa. “I didn’t mean to freeze it!”

  “Hang back until I weaken him!” I told her.

  Alex ran from the fire chasing him, aiming for Clarissa. His metal armor might have been made out of cloth going by how fast he sprinted in it. I abandoned the flame attack and raced to get between my friend and brother. The vampire wouldn’t give up on helping me. She sprayed her whip onto the ground in front of her, creating a thin sheet of ice with it. Alex was forced to stop before his foot skidded on the slick surface.

  His next step was to block my sword’s downswing. The scholar shot streaks of lightning at every chance, but even those that landed on his armor bounced off harmlessly. Again, the speed at which Alex moved must have equaled that of my released co
rruption, and his strength treated his gear as though it were playthings children used to pretend they were great knights. A yearning for my imprisoned power infected my conscious, which enforced the confusion already stirring within it.

  I didn’t know how to fight Alex. Should I trust and wait for the pirates to defeat their opponent? Do I take riskier attacks that might literally kill any chance of saving Alex from his captors? Do I involve the pirates in our fight? The sick trolls and valiant soldiers were still busy with one another, making relying on them even less likely.

  A pained shout from my father broke my line of concentration for the briefest of moments, enough time for Alex to drop to the ground and cast a spell. My feet wouldn’t follow my order to jump backward. My head had a very hard time looking down. I fought through it, expecting to see stone wrapped around my feet, but they stayed free. A strange kind of paralysis spell had somehow caught me. It felt as if a giant spider web was pulling me to the ground. Clarissa screamed something as Alex’s shaky blade rushed for my gut. I successfully unfettered my right foot, moving it a few inches backward and turning my torso, but that wasn’t going to be enough.

  A red ward flashed in front of me. The sword struck it, cracked it, and may have shattered it were it not for Clarissa throwing herself against Alex’s shield. The interruption broke whatever spell had been holding me. Alex used his shield to bash Clarissa’s face, then swung his sword. She screamed and dropped to the floor when its tip slashed her right side.

  It was Alex’s turn to scream when one of Ghevont’s more powerful lightning spells enveloped his back. He countered by flinging his shield with great force at Ghevont. The scholar’s casting speed might have been better, but his physical reaction time still lagged. The shield slammed into him and knocked him down.

  I thought the mountain shook because my sword clashed with my brother’s, but the quaking continued beyond that. Behind Alex I saw his companion running in a shambled zigzag pattern as he headed back into the troll’s chamber.