by Dean Cadman
Lusam raised his right hand and created a small fireball in his palm. As the dragon swooped from the sky he began feeding massive amounts of power into the missile. Dragon scales or not, he knew without doubt that the fireball he now held in his hand would blast a hole clean through it. And he had no intention of allowing it to avoid his missile this time, either. Nor would there be any relatively soft landing awaiting it in the trees, only the hard, unforgiving flagstones of the courtyard below. He just hoped that he would get a chance to look it in the eye before it finally died, he thought to himself, as he prepared his final attack.
He didn’t even bother waiting until the dragon was within range before creating a magical barrier around it. He wanted it to know that it was going to die, and fear him, like he had once feared it. He constricted his barrier slowly around the dragon’s body, watching it struggle more and more to open its wings. Its roars of rage and anger swiftly turned to those of fear and desperation, as Lusam prepared to launch his deadly missile towards it. He smiled openly with satisfaction as the waves of fear washed over him. Only this time it wasn’t fear intended to invoke a reaction within him. This time it was fear from the dragon itself—and Lusam basked in it. It knew it was about to die, and it knew there was nothing it could do about it—just as he had in his nightmares countless times before.
The dragon struggled violently against its bonds, but Lusam held it firm. He would no doubt have to revisit the Soul Stones to recharge his power reserves afterwards, but he knew it would be well worth the trek knowing that the dragon was finally dead. After all, what was a few extra hours of walking, compared to a lifetime of safe and peaceful sleep? He drew back his arm in anticipation, and when the massive dragon was close enough for him to see its eyes, he released the deadly missile towards it. The dragon screeched loudly as the missile flew towards it, and Lusam’s smile grew even wider as he watched it struggle fruitlessly against his bonds.
Then in a single heartbeat, several things seemed to happen all at once. He sensed a strong magical presence off to his right, and as he turned to see who, or what it was, a familiar sensation gripped his mind and a silence spell robbed him of his ability to speak. He momentarily locked eyes with a middle-aged man standing at the foot of the giant stone staircase, but almost immediately the man turned away to face the approaching dragon. He looked as if he had rushed out of the building only half-dressed, wearing only a nightshirt and a pair of worn leather trousers. His dishevelled appearance reminded Lusam of the homeless vagabonds in Helveel. He watched as the man raised his hand towards the dragon and spoke a single word of power. A ray of bright-white light erupted from the palm of his hand and streaked towards the plummeting beast. But instead of hitting the dragon, the ray of light intercepted Lusam’s missile, causing it to explode harmlessly into a shower of sparks.
Lusam was enraged that he would interfere like that, and without hesitation, he sent another missile directly at the man. He saw the man’s eyes grow wide at the sudden and unexpected attack. No doubt he had expected his silence spell to thwart any possible retaliation. The look of surprise, however, was soon replaced by one of anger, as he raised a hand towards the incoming missile and spoke another word of power. Lusam’s fireball simply winked out of existence, and before he could even think about launching another attack, the man spoke several more words of power and his magical barrier around the dragon exploded outwards. The sudden power drain on Lusam was truly incredible. Never before had he felt anything like it. Not even the combined power of Lord Zelroth and his Inquisitors came close. The dragon roared defiantly as it spread its wings to slow its descent.
Lusam barely had time to take a breath before his own shield was also ripped from him, and in the same instant, he felt himself plummeting backwards towards the courtyard below. He tried to levitate himself upright again, but the man had him firmly in his grasp and slammed him hard into the ground. The air exploded from his lungs on impact, and the world around him darkened. He tried desperately to refill his lungs with air, but they refused to obey him. He knew the dragon must be almost on top of him by now and tried desperately to erect another magical barrier around himself. But somehow the man blocked his efforts, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t overpower him.
When Lusam saw the dragon’s shadow pass over him, he knew that he was about to die. A deafening roar of victory—so close, it reverberated through his very bones—assaulted his senses. He closed his eyes and braced himself for his own imminent death. He felt the downdraught of the dragons mighty wings on his face and all he could think about was Neala, and how he had failed her. How she would suffer and die because he had been so blinded by his own desire for vengeance, instead of simply killing the beast when he’d had the chance.
“Ryuu… No!” the man shouted, as the dragon came within striking distance. Lusam felt his magical restraints suddenly tighten. No… not tighten—solidify. The man had created a solid barrier around him. Lusam opened his eyes and saw the massive dragon just about to strike. Its huge black razor-sharp talons outstretched ready to tear him apart on contact. It crashed down on top of him and thrust its centre talon down towards his chest. The ground beneath him shook violently with the impact of the massive beast, but thankfully the solid barrier held back its deadly assault. The dragon roared its fury at being denied its kill, then turned its huge head towards the approaching man.
“Be patient, Brother. You will have your revenge, I promise. But first I will learn who he is, and why he is here.”
The dragon swung its massive head back towards Lusam and locked eyes with him.
“He is the murderous thief that has been invading my thoughts,” the dragon growled in a deep voice. Lusam wasn’t sure if he was more shocked at hearing the dragon speak, or the fact that it had just accused him of being a murderer and a thief.
“I’m not a murderer or a thief. And it was you who invaded my dreams,” Lusam spat back. The dragon lurched towards his face so fast that he couldn’t help but flinch. Its jaws wide open, revealing rows of deadly teeth, each one as long as his arm. The roar which escaped its maw was both terrifying and deafening in equal measure.
“You lie!” the dragon growled loudly. “I can smell it on you even now! I’ve been aware of your presence here ever since you first arrived.”
The man walked over to stand next to the dragon and looked it directly in the eye. “Why did you not share this information with me, Brother? If what you say is true, am I not also entitled to seek my revenge?” The dragon seemed to lower its head slightly but didn’t reply. “We will seek the truth of it together, Brother. If he is as you say, he will wish for a quick death by your jaws long before he receives it. That, I promise you.” he said, looking directly at Lusam. The man then placed a hand on the dragon’s neck, and judging by the reaction of the beast, Lusam felt sure they had just communicated silently with one another. Eventually, the man removed his hand and turned back to face Lusam.
“I suggest that you don’t make any sudden movements if you wish to keep your insides where they are,” the man said, glaring at him. Before Lusam could reply he spoke a single word of power and the barrier between himself and the dragon instantly vanished. The dragon’s foot came crashing down over him, bridged on either side by its massive talons. The tip of its middle talon rested painfully on his chest and it shifted its weight so that he was pinned to the ground. He could barely breathe, and the weight on his legs threatened to shatter his bones. The man nodded and the dragon eased off the pressure slightly.
“Now, you will tell me where you stole it,” the man said, taking a step towards him.
“I’ve already told you, I’m not a thief. I haven’t stolen anything,” Lusam replied, gasping for breath. Lightning fast, the dragon’s head shot towards his face, letting out an almighty roar. He could feel the heat of its breath on his face and expected its venom to kill him at any moment.
“You lie!” the dragon growled, dragging its middle talon across his chest a
nd tearing open his tunic. Lusam screamed in pain. He knew the gash wasn’t immediately life-threatening, but it was excruciatingly painful nonetheless. He heard the man openly gasp, and at first, he thought it was because of his injury. But when the man spoke again there was no sympathy in his voice, only malice.
“I will ask you this only once. Who did you steal this from?” he said, threateningly. Lusam looked up to see the man scowling down at him and holding his mother’s amulet.
“I didn’t steal it, it’s mine!” Lusam replied, through gritted teeth.
“You lie! But I will know the truth before you die,” the man said, crouching down by his side and placing a hand on his forehead. He spoke several words of power and Lusam screamed in agony. The man tore through his mind, ransacking his memories at will. Lusam desperately tried to erect countless mental barriers against him, but he swept them aside as if they simply weren’t there. He was like a thief ransacking a house, taking what he wanted and carelessly discarding what he didn’t.
Memories of his childhood flooded to the forefront of his mind, only to be replaced moments later with other random events of his life. He saw Aysha’s various visits in perfect clarity, hearing every word she had spoken. He saw the book room in Helveel, Coldmont and even the High Temple flash before his eyes. He caught brief glimpses of Neala and desperately tried to hold onto them, but they were viciously torn from his grasp as the man searched for what he was looking for. Images of The Rift played over and over in his mind. Battles he had fought. Faces of the people he had been forced to kill. And the slaughter he had been responsible for outside Lamuria all plagued his thoughts. But none of that even came close to the complete desolation he felt when the man uncovered the moment of his mother’s death at the hands of Lord Zelroth.
The man seized those awful memories and played them out in their entirety, making him relive every moment of it again in his mind. He begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t listen. Tears ran freely down his face as he watched his mother wheeled into Lord Zelroth’s throne room attached to the metal rack. He felt every one of the Darkseed Elite’s missiles as they pummelled his magical shield, draining him of his power, and remembered the feelings of utter helplessness at not being able to save his own mother. Flashes of the ceiling image depicting the Pearl Isle flickered in his mind as he lay next to his semi-unconscious mother. ‘I’m sorry’ he heard himself saying to her, as he squeezed her hand.
The man forced him to relive every word, sound and sensation of that terrible event. And at the end of it all, his mother’s final words cut through him like a knife. ‘I love you, my son, and I’m so proud of you. Live for us both,’ she said, just before being dragged away to her death. He saw her image one final time as she killed the three Darkseed Elite guards, and watched helplessly as her own shield failed. Then he was blasted through the stained glass window by an unseen force, her final plea of ‘RUN!’ echoing in his mind as he fell through the air towards the dark turbulent water below. At that moment he wanted those phantom waters to take him under, and never let him go. But the haunting words of his mother would not be silenced in his mind—‘Live for us both,’ they whispered, as the man finally withdrew from his mind.
Lusam lay there with tears in his eyes, and fresh streaks down his cheeks. He had no idea what the man had been looking for, but he had reopened a wound that Lusam had once thought he could never close. He saw the man stand up and stagger backwards slightly, before pausing to look down on him. Lusam refused to meet his eyes and simply stared at the blue sky above. The man placed a hand on the dragon’s neck once more, and a moment later the silence of the courtyard was shattered by a mighty roar. It startled Lusam, but he refused to show any more fear to the dragon. If it was going to kill him, he refused to give it the satisfaction of seeing him afraid ever again. But instead of tearing him to pieces, or killing him with its venom, it launched itself skywards, beating its giant wings and trumpeting its grievances to the world.
The man came to stand beside him and offered him his hand, but Lusam refused to take it.
“Your pet dragon seems a bit upset,” Lusam said sarcastically.
The man smiled. “Yes, he is. I just informed him that he could no longer kill you. And Ryuu is not my pet. He is bonded to me for life. We are brothers,” the man replied, still offering his hand.
Lusam snorted. “I thought only Guard…” Lusam started to retort. He turned his head and stared at the man open-mouthed. How could it even be possible? How could he have survived for so long? He slipped into his mage-sight and gasped loudly. The man standing before him was the most powerful mage he had ever seen, and there was little doubt in his mind now as to what he was.
“You’re a Guardian,” Lusam said, breathlessly.
“Yes… and apparently, you are my son,” he replied, smiling down at him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Lord Zelroth sat upon his imposing throne of bleached bones, listening to the pleas for clemency from the man kneeling before him. He stood accused of a minor crime against his neighbour, and with little to no evidence presented by the accuser, the man would have normally walked free with little more than a hefty fine. But things were very different now. Now the man’s sentence was assured, even before he had stepped foot inside his throne room. And that sentence would be death.
Lord Zelroth had been commanded by his God, Aamon, to make more sacrifices to his captured Aznavor, which in turn, would transfer the resulting magical energy back to the Netherworld, where Aamon could use it to force open The Rift once more. Lord Zelroth had already exhausted his supply of prisoners more than a fortnight ago, and there was still no sign of his forces returning from The Badlands with their fresh captives. He had even sent a second contingent of men to look for them, but even they had failed to report back yet, either in person or via the Empire’s extensive communication network.
He barely registered the man’s cries for mercy as he passed sentence on him, and watched impassively as he was dragged away by two of his Darkseed Elite guards towards the Aznavor chamber for execution. The echoing cries of the man quickly faded away when the two huge doors of the throne room closed behind him, plunging the massive chamber back into complete silence—just the way he liked it. His serenity was short-lived, however, when the huge doors opened once more and one of his administrators stepped inside to announce yet another petition for clemency.
“My Lord,” Administrator Baldin said, bowing deeply. “Cleric Zayin, of house Kobe, requests an audience to petition you for clemency over his brother-in-law’s recent transgressions.”
Lord Zelroth sighed loudly and reluctantly nodded to the request. At least it would be one more sacrifice for Aamon, he thought to himself. Administrator Baldin raised his hand and beckoned the two men over. Cleric Zayin, he had never met before, but he knew of him by name and reputation. His temple was situated in the most affluent part of town, and his regular worshippers often gave generously. He knew this because the majority of the gold came directly to his treasury. The other man, his brother-in-law, he had seen before. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, the man had been brought before him not more than a month ago on charges of refusing to pay for goods received. He had been handed a hefty fine and ordered to pay for the goods on pain of death. And unfortunately for him, here he was again, less than a month later.
“What are the charges?” Lord Zelroth asked, sounding completely uninterested.
“Drunken affray, My Lord,” Administrator Baldin replied.
“And you wish to petition clemency for this man?” Lord Zelroth asked, simply going through the motions before he pronounced his death sentence.
Cleric Zayin turned to look at his brother-in-law and paused. “No, My Lord. But unfortunately, he is the brother of my wife, so I’m afraid I must.”
Lord Zelroth couldn’t help grinning at the cleric’s reply.
“As much as I would like to accommodate your request, I’m afraid I cannot, cleric Zayin. This is the second time in
a month that your brother-in-law has been brought before me, therefore I have no choice but to reinstate my previously commuted sentence of death.”
“No… you can’t… please,” the man pleaded.
“Hold your tongue, man!” cleric Zayin hissed at him. He straightened his purple robes and turned back to face Lord Zelroth. “My Lord, if I may,” he said, bowing his head slightly. Lord Zelroth almost denied his request, but after a moment he relented and gave a slight wave of his hand, indicating that he may continue.
“Thank you, My Lord,” he said, bowing his head again. “Truth be told, I don’t believe this excuse of a man deserves another chance. But as I have already stated, he is the brother of my dear wife, and that’s the only reason I am here. I am a simple man, My Lord, therefore I will make my offer just as simply. If you were to see fit and grant this… man, your mercy for a second time, I believe that I might be able to help you with your… current shortages, so to speak.”
Lord Zelroth sat up a little straighter on his throne. How could this man possibly know about his plans? Only a select few within Azmarin knew what he was doing, and those he trusted would die before parting with the knowledge. He pointed a finger at the accused man and a Darkseed Elite guard immediately stepped forward and seized him by the arm. Cleric Zayin took a breath to speak, but luckily for him, he thought better of it. Lord Zelroth silently instructed his guard to remain in the corridor outside with the prisoner, whilst he discovered exactly what the cleric knew.
Cleric Zayin withered under his glare as they waited for the huge doors to close again. When the dull thud of the doors echoed through the chamber, cleric Zayin physically startled at the sound.
