Fallen Tiers
Page 19
Pruatra took the egg and put it in the dry nest. She swiftly manifested water around it and then set to warming it. “It will be a girl, it has been too cold.”
Alador smiled to himself. He had instinctively known this, but it was nice to have confirmation. His keeping the water cooler had kept the gender female.
“I want to help raise it…” Alador began.
“Indeed you shall.” The huge female glared down her muzzle at him. “It is your hatchling and therefore as Rena is gone, your responsibility.” Pruatra lowered her head to bring her muzzle nose-to-nose with him. “Assuming it remains viable… I have no idea what will come from this egg.”
He put a hand to her muzzle. “Please Pruatra, if it can be saved, save it.”
“I will do this, but not for you.” She eyed him coldly. “I will do it for Rena.”
Alador let out a heavy sigh. He had not realized how much he had been holding in for fear she would reject his plea.
“Thank you Pruatra. I wanted to warn you too, and have you spread the word, that the black dragon flight is out and sailing the skies along the coast to the north and south of Silverport for many leagues.”
The dragon curled back her lips in disgust and hissed. “What brings their kind from their hiding place at the temple?”
“We had a large storm that killed people and unroofed many homes. They are helping to collect the dead and assist with the passage of many souls to their chosen gods.”
“Indeed…” Pruatra hmphed. “The storm has taken its toll across the land. Many dragons and Daezun villages fared much the same.” She shook her wedged head.
“Daezun villages?” Alador said in surprise. “I saw the tornadoes spin off from it, but I thought they would dissipate before they got very far inland. They crossed the whole Great Isle?” Alador had not considered how far inland the storm would go.
“What do you care? You will make another in the year to come.” Her disapproval was dripping from her words.
“Wait… What? What do you mean I will make another?” Alador was stunned by this accusation.
“You did not think you could change the weather for a full turn and not pay the price of interfering with the natural order of the seasons?” Pruatra eyed him as if he were a small one. “By the gods, you did,” she gasped sadly. Why had she let him learn the way of the air stones?
“I… just… I thought the cost was to me. The power I used. The spell I cast?” Alador was stammering. “R-rena never said a word about causing some later storm.”
Pruatra shook her great head. “I was as much a fool as you are now. I should have seen what you were attempting. Rena was in love, and I knew it! She was helping you do something that had never been done before, because she wanted so desperately to please you. How could such a young dragon possibly know how big a mess you were capable of creating once you were let loose? Foolish dragoness, putting faith in a mortal.”
Alador was horrified. He had never considered that casting Luthian’s spell would cost the isle as a whole. Luthian had to know. He was the reigning mage. How could he have not known? It did explain his calmness in the face of it; Alador realized that Luthian had been expecting this outcome, or something very similar to it. He had been so casual. Had his plot upon the trench gone all the way back to when he had Alador start casting the spell? Was there some way Luthian knew that the wave would come, or had he just adapted his plans once he knew the magnitude of the storm? Anger flushed through the young mage.
“It is never a good moment when one realizes they have been manipulated to do great harm.” Pruatra’s tone became more of one teaching. “You must remember that magic always has a cost. Most of the time, it is small, but sometimes, it is so great that even death of the mage has occurred.
“Why mages and not dragons?” Alador asked - his words terse. He honestly thought the reason he could channel so much magic and not be harmed, was because he possessed Renamaum’s essence.
“Dragons are connected to the spiritual plane. We can walk with gods if we choose, though the gods frown upon it except at the time the fledglings pass into adulthood. Then the youngling is brought before them to receive their magic and their blessings,” Pruatra explained. “Mortals are earthbound. They live, they die, and nothing is left of them once they pass.”
Alador could have taken issue with this statement. Mortals did not leave magic behind in their bloodstones, but they did leave their children and perhaps a hoard, though small by dragon standards. Personally, Alador hoped to leave behind whatever was in that egg as his legacy. That brought his mind back around to his family.
“Do you know if my home village of Smallbrook was hit?” He realized in spite of everything he had done to protect his village and his family, they might have been harmed by his spell.
“You should go and see. I stayed within and have not left the sea but a few times.” Pruatra’s nostrils flared. “I will care for the egg.” She leaned down and rolled it over gently in its watery nest. “Go find your kin, but be sure to check back with me regularly, or you will not meet a warm welcome when you arrive again.”
“How long until it hatches?” He glanced at the blue egg. Its silver edges glimmered with the water’s magnification.
“It will be some time. I do not know exactly, as I do not know when it was laid or how your mortality will affect it.” She nuzzled the egg again.
“I will check back.” He leaned over and placed a hand on the shell. “It seems to like getting out of its nest,” he warned. “Though, your nest looks a bit more restraining than the one I built.”
Pruatra turned one large eye to look at him. “That is a good sign. It seeks. Now go,” she commanded. “And if you are diligent in your paternal duties you will find a warm welcome here, or at least as warm as my watery cave allows.”
Alador nodded and slipped back into the depths. He had to see his family and make sure his village was all right. He did not want to believe he was the cause, as Pruatra stated. How could he live with himself knowing he was responsible for all the death and destruction from the storm? He knew one thing… this was a secret he would never tell to Sordith.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alador appeared in the coal room of his mother’s house. Alarm filled him as he carefully opened the door; the roof was gone off his mother’s home. He could hear muffled voices in the distance. He carefully moved into the house itself. Debris lay everywhere. He was horrified, knowing that this destruction was his own fault. He had worked so hard to negotiate so Smallbrook would be spared all this, and in the end it had not mattered.
The outer walls seemed to have held, but pieces of the second level were totally missing. His mother was crying at the table as he moved slowly down the hall, careful that no one outside the family would know he was there. . He checked but did not see anyone except Tentret, Dorien and his mother, so he quietly stepped into view.
Dorien was the first to see him. He rose from the bench where he had been comforting their mother.
“Did your storm mage do this?” His anger was unrestrained and Alador took a step back.
How was he going to handle this? He could not tell anyone this was the result of his magic… his doing… his fault.
“It is not my storm mage, brother, it is Luthian’s; but yes, this is the work of the storm mage.” Alador watched his brother closely. He could not misstep here. “Is ours the only damaged?”
“Far from it,” his brother snorted. “The village is in total disarray, with most homes and buildings in similar condition. The smithy seems to be the only one that made it through untouched - too much metal holding things down there.” Dorien’s fists were clenched and his face did not hide his anger.
Alador never wanted to hurt anyone, and he knew that the blizzard that he had created caused hardships for the Daezun. He would not be easily forgiven if they found out. The guilt he felt kept him sobered as he looked about. His mother’s kitchen, her pride and joy, was all but destroyed.
“The storm struck Silverport as well. It did a massive amount of damage to the city and its people.” Alador’s vision swam with the memories of those that had died. The bodies and wanton destruction strewn about him in the city. Pruatra’s revelation that he was the cause of all that, and this, was just starting to sink in. He struggled to find his voice again.
“Why would Luthian’s storm mage create a storm that hurt his own city?” Dorien looked puzzled.
“It was a backlash from the storm created last winter,” he confessed, though he did not take it so far as to say it was his fault. “Was anyone in the village hurt?” His tone was pleading. Inwardly, he pushed down the guilt of his actions. The look on Dorien’s face sent a bolt of fear through Alador.
“There were several injuries and there is one still missing,” The reply was measured and softly spoken. Dorien’s reaction had changed at the mention of the injured. He moved around the table to stand in front of his mage brother.
“Who?” Alador’s heart sank as he worried who it might be. His sister was not here. Could that be the reason for his mother’s tears, rather than the state of her home? Questions rapidly fired in his mind as he waited for Dorien’s response.
Dorien put a hand on his brother’s arm. “No one has been able to find Mesiande since the storm hit the village. We have looked everywhere. There is no sign. I am so sorry, brother. I know she was dear to you.”
Alador’s mind went numb at the realization that Mesiande was gone. He could barely process the thought.
“She’s… gone?” He looked up into Dorien’s gaze, searching for something – an indication there was still hope. Some area they had not searched. There was none.
He forced his mind to focus and push aside all the memories that flew through it. He could not deal with this loss now. He would find her body and lay it to rest later. He promised himself that.
However, seeing this destruction, knowing what he knew now about the storm and his involvement in it, crystalized his desire to overthrow Luthian. Now was the time – not later! He needed to make sure he could rally the Daezun to his cause. What better fuel to use than the damage done here by the High Minister’s Storm Mage?
His eyes filled with tears, but he wiped them away as the anger and his determination built. Luthian would never, ever, force him to create another storm. He would never force him to do anything again. “I need to discuss something with you, brother.”
“It might have to wait,” Dorien answered. “If you cannot see it, I am a bit busy right now.” He waved his hands about, indicating the chaos around them.
“It is of utmost importance,” Alador pressed.
The look on his younger brother’s face gave the older man pause. Dorien looked about, searching to be sure there were no peering eyes through what was left of the windows. “Speak.”
Alador cleared his throat, forcing the last bit of guilt from his thoughts. “We need to mobilize the Daezun people to help tear down Luthian from power. Nothing like this and the destruction of the lower tiers at Silverport must ever happen again.”
“You want us to go to war? We cannot attack this despot.” Dorien ran a hand through his hair. “How do you expect me to convince the elders of all the Daezun that war is the best course at a time like this? The village is rubble!” Dorien’s eyes squinted at the thought. His disbelief was mirrored on Tentret and his mother’s faces.
“It must be done now. You are respected among the Daezun. You must convince them that if they don’t, war will find them first and crush all without question.” Alador’s tone was now one of business.
He knew what Luthian planned to do. The High Minister no longer hid his hatred toward the Daezun people. Power was what he craved, and having any group of people not following his dictates was never going to allow him complete control of the isle.
Alanis had stopped crying and sat watching her sons speak of death and war. Tentret had gotten out paper and was drawing the two men who now stood an arm’s length away from each other. If Dorien agreed, it was going to be a moment of history.
“Luthian is preparing to strike against the Daezun people and enslave anyone that gets in his way.” Alador’s mother made a sound of alarm, and when he glanced at her, he saw her hands covering her mouth. The fear on his mother’s face said all that needed to be said.
Dorien stared at him, trying to comprehend the immensity of what his brother was saying. “Enslave? There have never been slaves on the isle!”
“I know, but that will not stop Luthian,” Alador said with conviction.
“He will not be alone, brother,” Dorien reasoned. “His fellow mages will follow him. What can we do against people of their kind?”
“We can fight alongside dragons,” Alador announced.
“We have not called upon the pact between dragon and Daezun since the Great War. I am not sure the dragons will even honor it!” Dorien began to pace in front of Alador. “If I go to the elders with this, I am going to need a dragon willing to stand at my side.” The door scraped open, askew from a loose hinge. Henrick stepped into the room and carefully replaced the door. He needed to lift it to make it close.
“That can be arranged.” Henrick was filthy. He must have been out helping search or cleaning up.
Alador could not help but smile; it was so good to see his father. It was a rare sight these days. He missed him, and his wise counsel in dealing with Luthian. Alador advanced and pulled his father into a rough hug.
Henrick patted his son’s back, but then slipped free. “It seems I have come at an opportune time. I have been dealing with the consequences of magic for hours and thought my sweet love might feed me.” Henrick looked at Alanis, his affection clear upon his face. “Please continue.”
Alanis jumped up and began to find food that had been tossed around the room by the storm, but remained edible. The plate began to fill with bread, fruit and cheese. Dorien looked between the two men, his anxiety clear. He lowered his voice.
“So how do you provide a dragon?” Dorien asked with genuine interest.
Alador looked to Henrick. Henrick nodded – it was time
“Dorien, technically, you have been speaking to dragons.” Alador crossed his arms. He scowled at Henrick when Alanis placed a tray in front of his father and the impossible man began to wolf down the bread, making it impossible for him to add to the conversation or help explain.
Dorien pulled a chair over and sank into it beside his brother and Henrick. He needed the support for his legs, which had weakened as all this had been piled upon him. “What do you mean technically?” Dorien now looked genuinely overwhelmed.
“Well, I’m what is called a pseudo-dragon these days and Henrick… well… he’s… “Alador waved his hand toward Henrick, as the statement continued to hang in the air. Henrick, who had a mouthful of bread, continued to chew. “…Father, please.”
Henrick swallowed, cleared his throat and said, “I know you will find this difficult to believe, but I am a red dragon. I chose this form to train Alador for what was to come. My dragon kin believe him to be the ‘Dragonsworn.’”
Dorien’s gaze shifted from man to man in disbelief. Tentret was making sounds of awe, and the men all turned when Alanis dropped a bowl. Henrick beat Alador to his mother’s side.
“Don’t be alarmed, my dear. Our love is real.” He pulled Alanis into his arms to reassure her.
“He speaks the truth maman.” Alador stated, as he stopped just short of his mother. His outstretched arm fell to his side as he looked about the room at the others gathered here. “The man formerly known as Henrick was an evil person. He was my father, but he was replaced shortly after my birth by the Henrick we know and grew up with - this red dragon.” He knew the shock of this would take some time to sink in. He knew he had needed time to absorb it, but at least they knew the truth now.
“I will stand, in my dragon form, at your side when you meet with the village council, Dorien.” Henrick announced.
“We will need not only Smallbrook, but all the Daezun nation for this action,” Alador insisted.
“That is a tall order, but with a dragon at my side…” Dorien stood and looked at Henrick. Alador could see his brother trying to picture the man they all knew as his father in dragon form. “The elders will honor my request since the winter was as bad as I predicted it would be based on your warning. Plus, the dragons did come dig refuges underground.” He rubbed his chin as he began to pace. “Maybe it will be easier to convince them then I first thought.” Dorien stopped his pacing. “Dragons, speaking at my side. Who would have thought it?”
“It’s not as strange as you make it out to be, brother. Isn’t that right, Henrick?” Alador’s gaze settled onto Henrick as Dorien stopped pacing. His lips forming a bemused smile. “The dragons are only one part of the force, correct Henrick?”
“Don’t ask me, lad. It is your plan and you have not told me the details of it.” Henrick had led Alanis to the table and had her sit with him. He draped one arm over her protectively, shoving bread into his mouth with the other hand. “I can affirm the dragon’s commitment to see the man unseated.”
“Do you two just…have an open dialogue with the dragons?” Dorien looked at the two in amazement.
Both men answered together simultaneously, “Yes.”
Finally looking over at Dorien, Alador spoke to him again. “I need an answer, a confident answer to all this, Dorien. Will you help?”
“You just told me you’re half a dragon… My mother’s lover is a dragon in disguise… That people mean to enslave us… That dragons will help us.” Dorien looked at him, his confident tone gone. “It is a bit much to take in all at once.”
“The world rarely allows for you to take it much slower,” Alador replied. “But moving before Luthian does will save us all, dragon and Daezun alike. We need to do that.”
Henrick looked up from where he had been whispering to Alanis. “As much as I hate to say so, the boy is right. I will speak with the Dragon Council as soon as we have spoken with your village elders.”