Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6)

by Ferguson, Sam

  Erik froze when he saw the dagger embedded up to the hilt in his father’s gut. Blood oozed out and spread through the pajamas around the dagger. Lord Lokton’s eyes went wide and his mouth quivered. “What have you done?” he asked.

  “I didn’t—” Erik started but then his father fell to the floor and a man stood behind him cackling wildly.

  The man wore black robes with shiny, purple trim on the sleeves. A long hood hung loosely over his face, covering his features. Strands of silver hair poked out from the hood like old, wispy snakes. A golden medallion in the shape of a triangle enclosing an open eye hung over the man’s chest. The man held a long staff of wood in his left hand and pointed at Erik.

  “I warned you. I warned you all. I said that you would destroy House Lokton. Your power is a dangerous one. I told you that the power would consume all living. Yet still you persist. Your father is dead, your house is in ruin. The Middle Kingdom is at war, and you still press forward. Can you not see that it is you who must be stopped?”

  Erik fell back to sit on the bed, but he crashed to the glass floor.

  The room transformed back to the empty, cold cell of glass.

  “Tukai was right,” Erik muttered. “I may not have killed my father, but I am the one who set him on his path. If not for me, Lokton Manor would still stand.”

  “Hogwash and horse-apples,” a familiar, nasal voice called out from behind him. Erik jumped and spun around. No one was there.

  “Who is there?” Erik asked, almost afraid to see who was visiting him now.

  A hand materialized in the air holding a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.

  “If only you hadn’t left these, they could help you see the truth of it.”

  Erik recognized the voice now. It was Tatev. Just as he started to say something the hand vanished, and the Eyes of Dowr along with it.

  “It’s cold here, Erik. Why is it so cold?”

  “NO!” Erik shouted. His eyes opened and he slowly understood that he had been dreaming all along. He was still lying upon the floor. His tears had formed a small puddle next to his face. He turned around to look at the door. It was still closed, as it had been after he entered the room. His father was no longer lying upon the floor, and there was no warlock in the doorway.

  Darkness had fallen outside, which meant that now the chandelier inside the chamber created a mirror-like effect on all the walls so that no matter which way Erik turned, he saw himself. His red, puffy eyes and his guilt-stricken face.

  Still, dream or no dream, perhaps Tukai’s words were right. What if Erik would end up consuming all living with his power in his futile attempt to save them? After all, he didn’t fit any of the visions that Allun Rha had seen of the Champion of Truth. Perhaps he was not the right person. Perhaps he was simply good enough to pass the tests, and with the help of others able to put down some of the enemies that sought Nagar’s Secret. Would that mean that he couldn’t conquer the final battle? Or perhaps he was too strong. What if his power was uncontrollable?

  Goosebumps tightened his skin along his arms and shoulders. He scooted up to the nearby wall and rubbed his arms furiously. Then he remembered Tatev’s words about being cold and the sadness hit him again. Tears would have streamed down his face, but he had no more to give. He dropped his head into his arms folded atop his knees and sobbed, going mad with grief and guilt.

  *****

  Aparen walked through the lush thicket and upon exiting found a large, emerald pool of water. Njar sat upon the grassy bank with his legs crossed in front of him. The satyr gestured for Aparen to sit near him. The young boy sat, with his legs stretched out before him so that they almost touched the reeds shooting up from the edge of the water.

  “Today, I have a small lesson prepared for you,” Njar said. “You must simply relax and watch.”

  Aparen nodded his head. “Very well, show it to me,” he replied. His voice was neither eager nor uninterested. He was accustomed to Njar, and the goat-man’s lessons, but he wouldn’t go so far as to say he was completely comfortable with him yet.”

  Njar held out his left hand and his staff appeared instantly. He touched the head of the staff to the waters. The surface danced and swirled. Steam rose up and formed figures that waved and shimmered above the pool. “What is that?”

  Aparen looked and beheld the form of a satyr. “It is a satyr,” he said. “A being that is half man and half goat.”

  “Not precisely,” Njar replied. Aparen screwed up his face and cast an impatient glance to Njar. Njar held up a hand. “I am not the offspring of some human who fell for a goat, that would be preposterous,” he said. “I am a wholly separate being, created by Terramyr herself, as all of the Natural Races are.”

  Aparen nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

  Njar gestured to the water with his head. “Then name all of the Natural Races, let’s see what you know.”

  “Satyrs, minotaurs, and centaurs,” Aparen said.

  “Very good,” Njar replied. His staff touched the water again and several forms of each race sprung up from the mist. “However, there are many more. Can you think of any?”

  Aparen thought for a moment. “Gnomes?” he guessed.

  Njar nodded. “Here, let me speed this along.” He tapped the water with his staff once more and the mists rose high over them. Njar laid back, folding his arms behind his head as he smiled and looked up at the images taking shape.

  Aparen did likewise, watching the mist swirl into different shapes.

  First it formed into a ball. Soon there were masses upon the globe.

  “This is Terramyr,” Njar said.

  “It is round?” Aparen asked.

  “You didn’t know?” Njar asked astonished. Then he nodded. “That’s right, you were an apprentice of the sword, the art of brute force and subjugation. Why would I have thought you should know anything important?”

  Aparen reddened in the face, but he let the comment go. He knew the satyr well enough by now to know that the creature meant no insult by his words, it was simply an observation.

  “The world is indeed round. The masses of land you see are continents. There are many of those, each subdivided into kingdoms, countries, and wastelands.”

  The globe grew to enormous proportions, capable of showing massive armies and other groups of peoples and creatures across the surface.

  “There are so many,” Aparen said.

  Njar nodded. “This is just a representation, mind you,” he said. “I haven’t the space or time to show you all of the creatures upon the face of Terramyr, but hopefully this will give you incentive to seek balance.” Njar held up his hand and the globe spun over until a large continent faced them. Nearly the whole of it was covered with a dense fog, and encircled by steep, jagged mountains that rose out of the seas.

  “What is that large area?” Aparen asked.

  “It is Terra’s Navel. It is a lost continent that is hidden to the rest of the world. A dense fog surrounds it, and borders of impassable mountains seal it away from explorers. Its area is so vast that there are actually seas and continents within its covered borders.”

  “Where is it?”

  Njar smiled. “That is the secret,” he said. “For within Terra’s Navel lies the life force of Terramyr. From that, the source of all life springs throughout the world. That is why it is hidden. When the Old Gods formed the world, they created a bond between Terramyr and Hammenfein, the underworld or Hell if you prefer. When that bond was formed, Terramyr protected itself by creating Terra’s Navel and hiding the sacred source of life.”

  Njar motioned with his fingers and the glob spun to show a continent off in the east.

  “Do you see the large island to the northwest of the continent?”

  Aparen nodded. “I do.”

  “That is Icadion’s Footstool. It is thus named because the rainbow bridge that connects Terramyr to Volganor, the heaven city, used to rest there.”

  “Before the Old Gods abandoned the world,” Apa
ren said with a nod. “I have heard of it.”

  Njar offered a half smile and then pointed to the continent before them. “Starting from the west and going eastward, we see a large kingdom built upon a lush plateau that is raised above the rest of the continent. This is where the first human civilization was established after the Old Gods created the continent. Going east across the lower plains, the forest and a large lake, which could pass for a sea, and then over the first range of mountains and over the large canyon that nearly severs the continent in twain, we come to Tanglewood Forest.” Each place on the continent glowed slightly as it was named, helping Aparen trace his way across the continent as Njar spoke. Tanglewood Forest now glowed brightly with a golden hue. “This is the first home of the elves. All elvish peoples come from here, though they have spread over the globe just as far as the humans have.

  “Now, moving on we pass over the Nahktun Mountains and pass into a wasteland that is shrouded in darkness every hour of every day. The creatures and abominations that live here would give an army of wizards more trouble than they are worth. Luckily, they are unable to sustain themselves in sunlight, and thus cannot spread over into neighboring lands lest the sun would burn them like chaff in an oven.”

  “What kinds of creatures?” Aparen asked.

  Njar turned a fierce eye to him. “Creatures that shall not be named within my home.” Njar then turned back to the globe. “Deep within this land lies Gaia’s Tear.”

  “The volcano that connects Terramyr to Hammenfein,” Aparen said.

  Njar smiled pleasantly. “So, you are more than a sword-wielding brute after all.”

  Aparen sniggered. “And it is this connection that caused Terramyr to create the Natural Races.”

  Njar shook his head. “No,” he said. “Many people think that is correct, but that is an oversimplification. When Gaia’s Tear was created, the world formed Terra’s Navel, to protect all life. However, it was not until the War of the Gods that Terramyr realized the danger it was truly in. When the Old Gods could no longer stay for fear of being overrun by Atek and his minions, they withdrew. Lysander, Icadion’s most faithful son, remained behind, and has vowed to find a way to save the world and restore order, but none have heard from him in centuries. So, when Terramyr found itself in peril, and only the Ancients remained upon her face, she created the Natural Races. We were created in an attempt to protect the life source, and to spread balance throughout the world. That is what we still are trying to do. However, you humans are a greedy, selfish, and bloodthirsty lot. We are slowly losing the battle for the hearts and minds of Terramyr. Ultimately, it will likely boil down to a final war upon the heart of Terramyr.”

  Njar pointed his staff and the globe dissolved to form into several different beings. Njar explained each of them as they appeared.

  The first image stood before them with a pointy hat atop a short body with a long beard and sharp, pointed ears. The image wore spectacles, and held a book in front of its face.

  “The gnome. A short creature, usually averaging between two and three feet tall. They live for about six hundred years. They are highly skilled wizards, and love the forests. They are distrustful of all other races that were not created directly by Terramyr, but they can coexist with humans.”

  The gnome pushed its glasses up on its narrow nose and then disappeared. In its place appeared an extremely small, winged humanoid. Its body resembled a human in every respect, save for the butterfly-like translucent wings that kept it afloat.

  “Fairies are an odd lot. They are fairly reclusive. They are incredibly small, usually only about six inches tall. They live in small glass-like towers they create by freezing the morning dew. Oddly enough, some of them choose to live with wizards or sorceresses as familiars. They tend to focus on scholarly research rather than seeking balance. They can live for as long as one thousand years.”

  The fairy blinked into nothingness and then appeared a chubby baby. At first it also had wings like the fairy, but then the wings disappeared. Aparen was stunned when the baby got up onto his legs and walked around. The misty image came down near Aparen and growled at him.

  “Pixies are a troublesome bunch. They are similar in height to gnomes, though they tend to look more like oversized human toddlers than lean miniatures. This is their weapon, actually, as they often gain entrance into human homes or settlements by disguising themselves as babies and resting on a doorstep. If the town or family that finds the pixie does not meet the pixie’s standard for what a good creature should be, then the pixie unleashes a flurry of spells and curses to lay waste to everyone around it.” Njar paused and looked directly at Aparen. “To be clear, almost all other races are deemed unworthy by pixies, so they kill far more than they ever consider sparing.”

  “Where do they live?” Aparen asked. “Are there any around the Middle Kingdom?”

  Njar shook his head. “We satyrs do not approve of pixies. Where we are in abundance, we try to run them out. We are immune to their charms and curses, so it is easy for us to rid an area of them. The only place where that is untrue is on the continent Prirodha, which lies far to the south of here. Some pixies do venture out on their own to curse and kill, but alone they are somewhat vulnerable, and eventually a wizard or witch-hunter finds and slays the rogue pixie.”

  The pixie wound up as if to spit on Aparen, but just before it succeeded, the image faded away. Out from the mist came an oddly shaped humanoid. He was maybe the size of a dwarf, but a little taller and not nearly as stout. His feet were large and hairy and his nose was long, with a slight up curve at the end.

  “This is a Halfling. It lives for up to two hundred years. They are often referred to as Terramyr’s forgotten race, as they have no real special abilities, and they are scattered about the world with no apparent reason. They are pacific, and prefer to run or hide rather than fight. However, one should not wholly discount them, they are very clever and can be mischievous if pressed.”

  The Halfling melted away and up floated the image of a large, muscular man that from the waist down had the body of a great fish with bright, hard scales.

  “Mer-people. These are a wondrous creation. They can live up to three hundred years, and they live underwater with the fishes. Their whole purpose is to keep sea monsters in check, and so they are quite adept warriors, though, some groupings of mer-folk have been known to prey upon human ships or coastal settlements as well. They were originally created in Terra’s Pool, which is a sea-like lake in the center of Prirodha. However, they have spread far and wide throughout the oceans in an attempt to claim all of the waters for our mother, Terra.”

  The merman dropped down to disappear into the water and up galloped several large horses that were half man. Each of them carried large weapons. One carried a great halberd, another a claymore, and the third wielded a mighty bow. Their images continued to gallop in place as if they were running down an enemy before Aparen.

  “Centaurs are a special creature with the speed and agility of a horse and the upper body like a man’s. They can live for as long as three hundred years, and they make fearsome warriors on the field of battle. They have nearly inexhaustible stamina and their speed is unmatched by even the best horses. Most of them disdain humans so much that they will kill any human upon sight. The centaur is a wise race, and does not identify with the greed and pettiness the humans are prone to. They also see human cities as blights upon the land that should be cleared away for Terramyr’s health and continued prosperity.”

  The centaurs turned, galloping off into the distance as their images shrank away. Njar snapped his fingers and there appeared an exact replica of himself in the mist above them.

  “You have already met quite a few satyrs. As you have come to understand, we do not seek to fight openly with other races. Many of us live in seclusion as we seek for balance and wisdom. Those of us who venture out into the world usually become merchants and traders. We can be quite shrewd when it comes to negotiations. We live for three hun
dred years on average, though there are a few of our kind that have lived as long as one thousand years.”

  “How old are you?” Aparen asked.

  Njar grunted, but he said nothing.

  The image above them mutated with a terrible roar. Its legs thickened and the arms grew muscles to shame any human warrior. The head flattened and then broadened, taking on the appearance of a bull. The image was several times larger than the satyr once it had finished shifting. In some respects, it was much larger than the centaurs that Aparen had seen.

  “Minotaurs are not the abominable offspring of some deranged queen, as some tales might suggest,” Njar said. “They were created by Terramyr as well. They are the strong guardians. They guard all of the most sacred places. As such, they don’t usually venture far from their homelands. To do so would weaken their positions. When they are met on a battlefield, there is little hope for any who oppose them. They have even been known to put down rogue dragons. That being said, there have been some tribes that have broken off from their homeland in an effort to conquer nearby lands. When they do, it is a horribly costly campaign.”

  The minotaur flexed its muscles and bellowed out a mighty roar before fading away. The mists again began to take shape, but the next image was not anything Aparen might have expected. At first he thought it might be human, but then it grew too tall and the arms hung low below the waistline. Then, shaggy fur grew out over the body and the being had a lumbering gait as it walked around the air above them. It made short grunting noises and constantly looked over its own shoulder. It hissed once, revealing a mouth full of jagged teeth.

  “What is that?” Aparen asked.

  “This is the elusive, highly fabled, Yeti. I would explain their existence by calling them the forward scouts of the Natural Races. They inhabit the snow covered peaks throughout the world, though vastly more so within Prirodha. They attack exploration parties in order to prevent them from ever reaching the fortified settlements that the centaur and minotaur civilizations have made. Not much is known about the Yeti, even among the other Natural Races, other than they can be highly unpredictable. Like the pixies, they can become an extremely savage and bloodthirsty creature.”