by K. A. Lentz
Thistle’s expression spoke of the mourning within as she silently disembarked behind the unburdened pair. Sadness quickly turned to wonder as the curious witch marveled at the reality of lush, green grass snaking up the cuffs of her jeans in the belly of an ancient dragon. Busy gawking at her surroundings, Thistle was unaware their party had reached their destination and ran headlong into Miach’s back. Blushing, she mumbled a shy apology and rounded her mate to see the glorious pair of threadmail dangling from their ceremonial post. To the untrained eye both deceptive pieces of armor assumed the guise of woolen tunics, emblazoned with delicate golden writing along the cuffs and neckline, yet upon further inspection it was plain to see each was so much more.
Thistle was first to pluck-up enough courage to touch the lofty vestment. She gasped and rushed in for another feel upon discovering the sensation of woven metal in place of expected cloth. Miach also leaned in for a closer look, his eyes focusing hard upon golden threads forming runes resembling the ancient markings gracing each piece of weaponry he carried.
Stepping forward, Syheran stated with obvious reverence, “Made of celestial ore and forged within our planet’s core, these fine pieces of armor will resist the heat of fire and insulate from the coldest chill. Now that you have become the guardians of compassion, please, take these gifts with the honor and pride of elves, gnomes, dragons, and fey who bestow them upon you.”
Miach stared at his armor as if the inanimate object had grown legs and was sprinting around the cavern. Thistle simply stood shaking her head in denial. Syheran waited a moment for them to act, but grew impatient and said in a rush, “They are yours to take! We must move along. Do not slow your actions now… pick them up!”
Miach was unsure how to proceed. Thistle, on the other hand, took his tone seriously and reached out to pick hers up. Holding the strange garment at arm’s length she exclaimed, “How incredible, it appears as nothing more than a simple woolen tunic, and its light weight fools you into thinking that’s what you’re holding, yet I know it is metal by the touch! Boggling!”
After a final, admiring glance she began folding the legendary tunic into her satchel until Syheran’s instructing tone halted her actions, “No, my friend, these are items to be worn, not stored. Please put it on beneath your traveling clothes.”
Thistle’s blush was immediate and her refusal short on its tail, “I… your… no… not in front of you two… I can’t… I mean to say…”
The elder hale-elf loosed an understanding chuckle before plainly stating, “I shall wait beside the bubble, however your mate is unavoidable.” With that he casually strode over to their transport and, for decency’s sake, discreetly looked the other way.
Miach remained motionless, his gaze locked on the lofty gift. Finally giving way to Syheran’s instructions, he gingerly lifted the magical armor from its carved, wooden peg. His eyes were round as saucers as he turned to Thistle and whispered, “I’ve heard many stories of a wood-elf king boasting the parentage of a fey mother, and I must say… it’s no light act to gift us with this pair of treasures.”
Without another word the awestruck storm-slave removed his simple leather jerkin and proceeded to don the magical armor. Thistle caught sight of three runes glowing in a line down his torso and whirled around with a crimson blush burning her cheeks. Unable to be so bold, she hastily took this opportunity to relive her high-school locker days; attempting to slip the loose set of mail beneath her form-fitting wool sweater. Miach finished well before she and so happily stood behind her enjoying the show of hilarious efforts, a suppressed laugh tickling the back of his throat. In the end she yanked the sweater off and threw it down to the grass in frustration, inadvertently giving Miach his first glimpse at the back of a bra. What is she wearing? Popped into his head… and her open mind heard his thought. Oh no! She thought and hastily stuffed the magical armor over her head before simultaneously thrusting each arm into its sleeves. Miach relieved the aching need to laugh and loosed a hearty chuckle that echoed around the chamber.
Clothed and ready to depart, the trio quickly boarded their fishy transport and sped back to the surface. As they disembarked, Thistle was overcome by a need to bid the magnificent crystalline bridge farewell and so somberly wandered in its direction. Approaching the grand edifice, she saw for the first time what the bridge really was. Without turning to address Syheran, she asked in a grieving voice, “Is this bridge the dragon’s head? Why is it crystalline?”
Sympathizing with the ache in her heart, the elder hale-elf walked up beside Thistle and replied, “Indeed, this bridge is part of her skull and the crystalline effect is their natural state of decay upon death. The remainder of her head and body lies beneath the earth, hidden from sight. She buried herself that way… I am told. Now, I must request when you are finished paying homage to her memory… that we quickly be on our way.”
Solemnly nodding her understanding, Thistle roamed off to say good-bye to the long dead dragon who had been simply the stuff of fairytales only an hour before. Compelled to touch the incredible skeleton, she ran a hand over one of the dragon’s spiraling horns—once mistaken for elaborate handrail—and then crouched down to rub the crown of its head, previously seen as the bridge’s span. Standing tall she lingered for a minute watching the river flow unhindered through the dragon’s hollow eye socket and back out the other side. A sigh of resignation escaped her lips as she glanced at Miach patiently waiting beside her. In a whispered voice she apologized, “Sorry, I’m ready now.”
Miach gently shook his head at her apology and smiled as he led them off to join the group. The party of five sat huddled around the village’s giant obelisk, talking casually amongst themselves, while the last of their fellowship filed into the square. Syheran quickly looked over his stock of supplies before rallying the group to action. An hour later as the single line of travelers snaked over the crest of Japake’s eastern ridge, Miach turned to capture one last glimpse of the peaceful village and its breath-taking valley. At once his gaze caught sight of a humanoid figure standing beside the obelisk. His lungs inhaled a sharp breath of disbelief as his eyes focused upon the visage of a woman he had buried nearly three years ago. Eltine’s wind-slave stared with ghostly eyes through the distance separating them and exclaimed, “Please, make haste! They’re coming!”
Dedicated To:
To all my friends and family, thank you for your heartfelt support through the years. Bill and Jena thank you for your awesome confidence. To my mom Marie; thank you for being my second editor, my first run audience, and speaker of kind encouragements. My beautiful husband Michael, you have been there through it all and helped me every step of the way (sometimes even playing out fight scenes). If it weren’t for you—and the limitless patience you have gifted me with over the years—this book would never have seen the light of day. I could never possibly thank you enough for believing in me.
About the Author
K.A. Lentz
Since I was young, conjuring stories has dominated my daydreams and fueled an overabundance of insatiable curiosity. Like wondrous fantasy realms created by many a writer, the world around me sparks ideas and stories that I love to blend with myth and legend into a little something new. Upon embarking on my journey to become a writer, I soon discovered there was much for me to learn. At times the road was rocky, rattling my confidence to its core. Other times I felt triumphant, bolstering my budding self-esteem as an author. With each success I traveled further down the road of cheery confidence rather than the somber path of defeat. Today I consider myself a writer. There is still a lot for me to learn, however I believe my talents coupled with curiosity will get me there.
As for the nitty-gritty details, there are many so I’ll sum up the important ones. I’m graced with the privilege of being married to my best friend, mentor and companion. We share our lives with two impish dogs that relish in melting our hearts with their adorable personalities. There is nothing so peaceful as canoeing down a river with my
love watching nature’s community go on about their day. Gaming has been in my blood since I was six when my aunt brought over her new gaming console, and continues to this day. That’s me in the simplest of nutshells.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Slaves and Captains
Chapter Two: Worlds Apart
Chapter Three: A Brother’s Love
Chapter Four: Introductions
Chapter Five: To Make a Great Escape
Chapter Six: Unexpected Meetings
Chapter Seven: Strange and Unusual Creatures
Chapter Eight: Communications with the Dead
Chapter Nine: Understandings
Chapter Ten: New Beginnings
Dedication
About the Author
