by Dean Cadman
“That’s not what I really meant,” Lusam replied, shaking his head. “It’s obvious that knowing more about magic and how it works would help in any battle. But if say we were to fight each other now, surely you would win simply because you had a larger power reserve, just like Lord Zelroth did when I fought him.”
“There’s no denying that having an abundant supply of power is an advantage in any fight, but it’s how you use that power that counts the most,” Arlo replied, but seeing the blank expression on Lusam’s face, he quickly decided to try and explain it a different way instead. “Okay, let’s say that I brought you a small hammer and a heavy sledgehammer and placed them on the table in front of you. Then I brought you a handful of nuts and asked you to crack open their shells. Which hammer would you use?”
“The small one, of course. But…”
“Why?” Arlo asked, cutting across him.
“I understand what you’re trying to say: using the small hammer would be a more efficient way of cracking open the nuts. But surely with regards to magic, if I happened to choose one spell over another, it could never allow me to overcome your power advantage.”
Arlo sighed loudly in frustration and slowly stood up from his chair. He rubbed at his chin with his forefinger and thumb and glanced around the large chamber, deep in thought. After a moment of pacing back and forth, he suddenly looked up at Lusam and said, “I have an idea. Come with me.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heels and walked across the huge room. He went directly to a large vase in the far corner and retrieved something from inside. Even from where he was, Lusam immediately recognised the object as a Soul Stone. The glow of it to his mage-sight was unmistakable, as were the other twenty or so Soul Stones still inside the vase.
Arlo held up the Soul Stone as he came to meet him in the centre of the large room. “I know you’ve seen one of these before, so you also know how much power they contain.” Lusam nodded. “Good. I’ve also noticed that your preferred method of attack is usually fire-based, such as the one you used against Ryuu and myself outside.”
Lusam nodded again. He knew that he had used ice magic in the past, and even tried a lightning spell once, but it was true that he usually favoured fire-based attacks.
“Okay, so you believe that having a larger power reserve equates to winning a battle, eh? Then let’s try this. You attack me with your fire spells and I will only use the magic contained within this Soul Stone to oppose you.”
“What! Are you crazy? One missile and your shield would fail,” Lusam said, completely shocked by his suggestion.
“Who said that I was going to use a shield?” Arlo replied, grinning widely.
“Oh… yeah, that’s just great! I finally meet my long-lost father and then kill him the same day!”
Arlo chuckled loudly. “Don’t worry, neither of us will be in any danger… well, not unless you burn my house down…”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, it’s taken me forever to get it the way I like it.”
“What? No… not the house. I mean are you serious about me attacking you?”
“Yes, of course,” Arlo replied, shrugging his shoulders and holding up the Soul Stone. “You can begin whenever you’re ready.”
Lusam sighed and shook his head. He knew that he didn’t have time to waste like this, but he also knew that Arlo wouldn’t be satisfied until he had proved his point—whatever that was. Lusam had no desire to injure him, so the first fireball that he created was little more than a fist-sized ball of flame in his right hand. But even before it was fully formed, Arlo spoke a single word of power and a small beam of bright light erupted from the Soul Stone and immediately dispelled it.
Arlo’s grin widened. “Come on, you can do better than that,” he taunted.
Lusam created another fireball, and again, Arlo spoke a single word of power and a beam of bright light snuffed out the missile in his hand. Just as Lusam was about to try for a third time, he heard Arlo speak a different incantation and instead of a beam of light, a small bolt of lightning shot forth from the Soul Stone and struck his backside. Lusam yowled in pain and jumped at least a foot into the air, holding his slightly scorched buttock. Arlo roared with laughter as he watched Lusam hop around the room rubbing at his injury.
Lusam narrowed his eyes at Arlo. If he wanted to play dirty, so be it, he thought. But this time he wasn’t about to leave himself exposed. With a single thought, he surrounded himself with a magical barrier, then created two large fireballs, one in each hand. Even before he could think of releasing them, both had been snuffed out by a beam of light, and a second bolt of lightning struck his shield. Lusam grinned at Arlo, thinking that he’d thwarted his attack this time, but the look on Arlo’s face told him otherwise. He glanced down and was amazed to see the small bolt of lightning still dancing in front of him near the ground. It took him a moment to realise what was happening, but before he did, a second tiny streak of lightning also began dancing in front of him. They were both jumping between his shield and the ground by his feet, and every second they remained, they drained a tiny amount of his power reserves.
The power drain was no real threat to Lusam, but he knew that wasn’t the point Arlo was trying to make. He simply wanted Lusam to know that he could use his shield against him if he chose to. There was no doubt in Lusam’s mind that Arlo could have created a far more powerful version of the lightning bolts, or dozens of them for that matter. But Lusam chose to ignore the lesson for now, and instead teach Arlo a different lesson. Stifling a grin, he formed the image of a lightning bolt of his own, and targeted it on Arlo’s buttocks. Time to get even, he thought to himself, as the bright light erupted from his hand and streaked towards Arlo. But instead of passing through his shield and continuing on towards Arlo, it simply struck the inside of his barrier and dissipated along the two dancing streaks of lightning into the floor below.
Arlo chuckled loudly at his failure, but Lusam wasn’t amused in the slightest.
“Fine! Dodge this, if you can,” Lusam said, creating a small streak of lightning in his right hand.
“I wouldn’t do that…” Arlo began to say, but with a single thought, Lusam had already dispelled his shield. Even before he could release his missile, the two dancing streaks of lightning jumped across the gap and struck his backside again. He yowled in pain and jumped high into the air, and something painful shot up his left nostril. A moment later he found himself in a heap on the ground, dazed, but alive. Bright white dots danced before his eyes and the smell of burning hair filled his nostrils.
Arlo gasped loudly, but on seeing that Lusam was alright, began roaring with laughter. “I’ve never seen anyone snort up a lightning bolt before,” he said, with tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Oh… is that what it was?” Lusam replied, swaying slightly.
Chapter Forty-One
“Come and sit at the table so I can take a look at you,” Arlo said, offering Lusam a hand up.
“I said I’m fine!” Lusam snapped, attempting to stand up on his own and staggering towards the table. Arlo struggled to contain his amusement but managed to follow him without betraying himself.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked a moment later when he saw how pale and sweaty Lusam’s face had become. Lusam gave him a defiant look but remained silent. He didn’t want to sound ungrateful for what his father was trying to teach him, and at any other time he would have been happy accept his wisdom, but right now, he simply didn’t have the time.
“Arlo, please don’t take this the wrong way, but we don’t have time for this right now. The world needs us. Both of us. If what you’ve told me is correct and I can’t read your Guardian book, then you have to come back and help me close the rift before it’s too late.”
Arlo shook his head. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t read it. I said that you couldn’t read it yet.”
“So, if not now, when?”
“When you have mastered the meditation
technique required to survive the process,” Arlo replied, with a shrug.
“And how long is that likely that take?”
“Well, that depends on you, of course. But I believe the High Priest has already taught you enough of the basics to speed things up a little. With a bit of luck and some hard work on your part, I think you should have it mastered within two or three months.”
“Two or three months!” Lusam exclaimed, almost choking on his own words. “I doubt that we have two or three weeks, let alone two or three months. I don’t think you fully understand the situation. If we don’t get to The Rift very soon and do something, Aamon will escape and the world as we know it will be destroyed, along with everyone in it.”
Arlo chuckled and shook his head. “No… it won’t. We have plenty of time, and we should use it wisely, Lusam.”
“No, we don’t,” Lusam snapped, jumping to his feet and knocking over his chair. “I can’t believe that you of all people, a Guardian of Aysha, can’t seem to understand the urgency of the situation.”
Arlo sighed and placed the Soul Stone he’d been holding on the table in front of him. It still glowed brightly to Lusam’s mage-sight, indicating that very little of its power had been used during Arlo’s recent demonstration. “Let me ask you something, Lusam,” Arlo said, pointing towards the Soul Stone and grinning slightly. “Apart from not inhaling your own lightning bolts, what else did you learn today?”
Lusam snorted. “Not to trust you when it comes to fighting fairly,” he replied, bluntly.
Arlo chuckled and shook his head. He picked up the Soul Stone and held it up between his forefinger and thumb so that Lusam could see it. “Actually, I did fight fairly. I even gave you the rules before we started. I said that I would only use the power contained within this Soul Stone to beat you, and that’s exactly what I did. But do you know why I beat you?”
“Because you’re a Guardian, and I’m not,” Lusam replied, sarcastically.
Arlo smiled and shook his head again. “No, Lusam. I won only because I was prepared for what I faced. I knew what to expect, therefore I could easily counteract your attacks. Knowledge is the key, Lusam. Knowing which type of magic to use in any given situation. And always using the least amount of power possible to achieve your goals. Just like my earlier analogy of cracking nuts with either a heavy sledgehammer or a small hammer, you should also always choose the type of magic which is the most efficient for the task at hand. But, of course, you must learn that knowledge first. And that takes time.”
“Time we don’t have,” Lusam replied, with a heavy sigh. “You have to come back with me now and help, before it’s too late.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Lusam. I cannot leave this place…” Arlo began to say, but before he could finish his sentence, a loud thud echoed throughout the large chamber. Lusam looked up and was amazed to see Arlo’s dragon, Ryuu, lumbering through the giant doorway. He saw Arlo wince as the dragon’s mighty talons scrambled for purchase on the polished stone floor, leaving deep gouges in its wake with every step he took. Its enormous tail flicked from side to side like a giant agitated scaled cat, barely missing the nearby statues and vases.
“Yes, you can,” Ryuu hissed loudly at Arlo. But before Lusam could ask what he meant, the dragon locked its gaze onto him instead. Lusam’s heart began to thunder in his chest, and even though he suspected that the dragon no longer meant him any harm, he still struggled not to erect a magical barrier around himself as it slowly approached. When it got to within fifteen feet of him it stopped and lowered his massive head towards him. Lusam fought every instinct that he had to step back away from the approaching danger, and visibly flinched when the dragon rolled back its scaled lips over its enormous teeth and sniffed at him. It was nerve-racking enough whilst it was sniffing at his legs, but he was truly terrified when it raised its massive head and lingered for several seconds right in front of his face. The dragon’s hot rancid breath washed over him like a wave of rotting carrion, intermingled with its strong reptilian scent. It took every ounce of his will to remain where he was, and when the dragon finally backed away, it felt like he had been holding his breath for hours.
“Blood recognises blood,” Ryuu growled deeply at Lusam. It was the same phrase the dragon heart entity in Helveel had spoken to him just before releasing its iron grip and allowing him to return to his own body.
“Blood recognises blood,” Lusam replied in kind. He had no idea why, but somehow it felt like the right thing to say. Ryuu seemed to agree with him, too, because just as he turned to leave, he appeared to bow his head slightly towards Lusam.
“Wait,” Lusam called out without thinking. Ryuu stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn to face him, or even ask what he wanted. At that point, Lusam wondered if he might have made a mistake. After all, it was only a short time ago that they were trying to kill each other.
“I’m sorry about your wing, Ryuu,” Lusam said, taking a nervous step towards him. “If you would allow me, I’d like to repair the damage that I caused.”
“There is no need. It will heal on its own,” Ryuu replied.
“I know, Arlo has already told me. But I’d like to do it for another reason. I’d like to do it to thank you for what you did for my mother. You thought that I was responsible for her death, and even though you couldn’t reach me physically, you did everything that you could to avenge her. And for that, I’m very grateful—even though at the time I felt very differently about it, I can assure you,” Lusam said, chuckling quietly to himself.
Ryuu didn’t respond or turn to face Lusam. Instead, he remained motionless as if trying to decide what to say or do next. Only the occasional twitch of his tail betrayed the statue-like dragon. It was difficult for Lusam to imagine that Ryuu was once his mother’s friend, but judging by his actions, he had no doubt whatsoever that it was true.
“Samara must have meant a great deal to you, Ryuu, and you to her. I know she would have wanted me to help you if I could,” Lusam said, holding out little hope of a reply. But he was wrong.
Ryuu replied with a single word. “Yes,” he hissed quietly, then slowly extended his damaged wing so that Lusam could reach the damaged area unhindered. Cautiously, Lusam stepped forward, careful to avoid his massive twitching tail. One unintentional swipe and it could break his leg, or at the very least cause him a lot of discomfort.
Repairing the injury was simple, as it was little more than a patch of torn skin. It took him less than a minute to accelerate the growth of new tissue around the wound, and when he was done, there was no evidence of the injury ever being there. Ryuu flexed his wing a few times, almost knocking over one of Arlo’s precious statues and causing him to say a few choice words about it—all of which Ryuu seemed to ignore completely. Then he simply nodded his thanks to Lusam and left through the still wide-open doors without another word. Lusam could almost hear Arlo’s teeth grinding with every step the dragon took, as his talons tore into his once pristine floor.
“You’d think after almost two thousand years he would have learned how to close a door by now,” Arlo said. The reply was almost instantaneous, as a mighty roar echoed across the sky above.
“What did he mean?” Lusam asked, still looking towards the open doors.
“What, when he said ‘Blood recognises blood’?”
“No… yes, that as well, I guess. But mainly the other thing, about you being able to leave this place.”
Arlo sighed heavily. “Well, the first thing is easy to answer. The second, not so much, I’m afraid. The term ‘Blood recognises blood’ has always been used amongst the dragons to acknowledge their kinship with one another. It’s the closest they ever get to calling each other a friend. But when a Guardian and a dragon are bonded it changes us, both of us. Each takes on certain traits of the other, and as such, Guardians were also often greeted by other dragons in the same manner—by both bonded and non-bonded dragons.”
“But I’m not bonded to a dragon,” Lusam said
, frowning.
Arlo nodded slowly. “Yes, I have to admit, I was very surprised to hear him say it myself. I guess it’s just his way of accepting you as a friend. Although, I’ve never heard of a dragon speaking those words to anyone else other than another dragon or a Guardian. Those words are sacred to all dragons and have a deep and significant meaning for them. Ryuu once told me that they were the very first words spoken by Driden to his first dragon, and as such, they are treated with great reverence and respect. You shouldn’t underestimate their significance.”
“I don’t, but it’s not the first time that I’ve heard them spoken to me by a dragon. I was once greeted by the dragon heart in Helveel in the same manner, but I never knew why or what it meant, until now.”
Arlo looked a little puzzled by Lusam’s statement, and remained silent for quite some time before finally replying. “All I can think of is that you must have inherited something from me. Something that a dragon can detect, but I don’t know what.”
“Maybe Ryuu would know,” Lusam suggested.
“Maybe he would, but unfortunately he severed his connection with me again shortly after leaving.”
“I guess he’s still upset with you about something,” Lusam said, grinning.
Arlo shook his head. “No, not this time. He knows that you wish to discuss leaving this realm with me and where that conversation will inevitably lead. Dragons are, by their very nature, emotional creatures. And a bonded dragon even more so. It’s an unfortunate side effect of the bonding process, and it takes them a long time to adjust to their new heightened sense of emotions. But some emotions are just too painful to revisit willingly, even for a dragon as seasoned as Ryuu.”
“You’re talking about my mother’s death, aren’t you?” Lusam asked.
“Amongst other things, yes. But there was also another event which took Ryuu a very long time to come to terms with, and I know that he wouldn’t wish to willingly revisit those memories again. I’m not even sure that I do, if I’m honest. Humans are far better at overcoming or burying our emotions than dragons, but when those emotions are shared through a bond such as ours, there is no way to begin the healing process until the dragon itself moves on. I’m sure that I don’t have to remind you how effectively they can project their emotions towards another. Well, it was like that for me for a very long time indeed. The only respite I got was when he severed our connection, like he has now. At first, it was a great relief, and I tried to let him come to terms with it on his own. But later, I found myself overcome with guilt, realising that I had abandoned him to his own mental tortures…”
