by Dean Cadman
“With a single thought Ryuu knew my plan. By the time I had retrieved the Guardian book from within the rubble, Ryuu had already suffered several deep wounds from the larger dragons. He folded his wings and dived straight towards me below, both dragons directly behind him. I waited until he was just about to spread his wings, then released my attack. A bright flash of light exploded directly in front of each dragon’s face, blinding them momentarily. Ryuu pulled out of his dive just in time, but the other two dragons were not so lucky and crashed heavily into the ground below. Ryuu snatched me up in his talons, and we used that moment of confusion to our advantage. We dived over the edge of the cliff as if we were about to enter the water below. But instead of diving into the ocean, we used the tall cliffs as cover and flew around the edge of the island to the portal.
“I knew that even if we did escape, the two dragons would still search for us in the surrounding area for quite some time. But I also knew that the sea arch was far too small for the larger dragons to fly through, so I was fairly confident that if we did make it through unseen, we would successfully evade them. At the time my plan was simple: enter through the portal and hide the book, then return to recover Ietha’s heart before they could reach Nerroth with it. I figured that if I couldn’t sense Ryuu’s presence beyond the portal, neither could the dragons. And I was hoping that the same would be true for the Guardian book, too.
“Killing a single dragon is hard, but killing three is even harder. And truth be told, I had no real desire to kill any of them. Slowing the speed of their flight, however, is much easier, and was part of my original plan. Once we had caught up with them and retrieved Ietha’s heart, I planned to create a strong headwind to act against the pursuing dragons. As long as we arrived back at the island far enough ahead of them, they would never see us enter the portal, and all would be well again. Unfortunately though, it didn’t quite work out like that.
“A bond between a human and dragon is a wonderful thing, but it’s not without its flaws. For example, what one bond-partner might perceive as a threat, the other might not recognise as such. If the experience is shared, however, then each partner takes information from that experience and blends it with the other’s, forming a new, more balanced view of the experience overall. But I made the unforgivable mistake of taking action with only Ryuu’s experience of this realm to draw upon. And that cost us both, dearly.
“Dragon’s, unlike human magi, don’t really keep track of their power reserves. They have no need to, as they don’t use magic in the same way as we do. Their use of magic is far more basic than ours, and usually only ever used to help them hunt. They often employ it to flush out prey from the treeline, or to cause a stampede amongst a herd of plain animals. But they could never even come close to using up their own reserves. Not only because of the vast amount of magic that a dragon holds, but because they regenerate their magic reserves so quickly.
“I never knew of the portal’s affects on Ryuu’s power reserves, because he never noticed it himself. He would enter this realm and hunt, only to return several days later and sleep until he was fully recovered again. At the time I was too blinded by my work to even notice. In truth, I thought he was simply tired because he had flown a great distance from the south, and as long as he left me alone to get on with my work, I didn’t really care. But when we finally flew through the portal together, the truth of it became clear to me. We barely made it through alive, and once I understood what had happened, I knew without doubt that we couldn’t return anytime soon. What I didn’t realise at that time, however, was just how long it would take for us to recover.
“Hours stretched into days, and days into weeks before we even considered returning through the portal. Ryuu’s renewed grief was truly unbearable for me, and we spent most of that time isolated from one another’s minds. Eventually, though, we decided to return through the portal. Not with any thoughts of being able to recover Ietha’s heart, but to check if the Guardian book was indeed hidden from view beyond the portal. That, and to replenish our power reserves fully before re-entering this realm again.
“We had no idea when we emerged back into our own world that only a few hours had passed since we had left. As far as we were concerned several weeks had elapsed. Ryuu returned to the spot where Ietha’s heart had been and continued to mourn her loss deeply. He had recently opened his mind to me again for the journey back through the portal, and his heightened emotions almost threatened my sanity. He sniffed at the spot where his mate’s heart had once been, and found that Ietha’s scent was still fresh to his senses. The sudden outpouring of sorrow and loss crashed over me like an avalanche, and to my never ending shame, I begged him to sever our link again.” Arlo hung his head in shame, and silence once again filled the room. Eventually, though, he continued, but his voice seemed even more strained than before.
“Once I had confirmed that the Guardian book was indeed hidden from view, and we had both fully recovered our strength, we agreed to return through the portal and build a new life together here. Ryuu never openly blamed me for his loss, but the guilt of what I had done weighed heavily on me for a very long time after. He knew there was no possibility of ever recovering Ietha’s heart from Nerroth. To even attempt it would have been suicide for the both of us. Instead, Ryuu chose to secretly visit the ruins of Lohlaen, where he spent days at a time mourning his loss. It was a very long time before he finally confided in me about it, and when he did, I felt terrible about having to ask him to stop. I knew that if he didn’t, it was only a matter of time before someone noticed him using the portal, and that would put the Guardian book at serious risk of being discovered. Something which neither of us wanted to happen.
“It was during one of those secretive visits, almost two hundred years later, that Ryuu saw The Keeper standing on the beach near the portal. Now, Ryuu was never particularly fond of The Keeper, even after we had agreed our truce, so he kept his distance and watched from far out at sea. When The Keeper’s intention to pass through the portal became evident to Ryuu, he moved swiftly to try and stop him. But unfortunately, he arrived a fraction too late. Ryuu followed him through the portal, but apparently, the only sign of The Keeper on the other side, was a large cloud of grey dust suspended in the water. Even though we weren’t exactly what you might call close friends, I was still deeply saddened to learn of his death, and felt in no small part responsible for it. But at least some good did eventually come out of it all. Ryuu finally opened up to me, and we began the slow and painful process of healing our wounds together. Something we continue to do to this very day. Although I have to admit, I’ve wondered many times over the years if Ryuu would have ever told me about his trips through the portal if he hadn’t found The Keeper that day.” Arlo paused, then quietly added, “I guess in the end, he was a far better friend to us than he ever knew. It’s just a shame that I’ll never get to repay him for it now.”
Lusam waited for a long time out of respect before speaking, just in case he wished to add something else to his account. He reached over and picked up one of the jugs, then topped up his own and Arlo’s cup with it. Arlo had piqued his interest with several of the things he’d spoken about, and although Lusam had no desire to prolong his suffering, deep down he felt that it was important to speak about it.
“I think I know the location where Ietha’s heart once was,” Lusam said, quietly. “I had a dream about it once. And I’ve also been there, too. I dreamed that I was a dragon flying above The Pearl Isle, and when I came to land within the ruins of Lohlaen, I went to that exact spot. I remember the feelings I had of immense loss and sorrow as I sniffed at the ground. And I had the same overwhelming feelings when I visited the spot recently, just before entering this realm.”
Arlo looked up at him with a puzzled expression on his face. He took a breath to speak, then paused as if considering his words carefully. “It doesn’t really surprise me that you felt a sense of grief and sorrow in that place. Dragon emotions are a very powerful
thing, and a bonded dragon’s emotions even more so. It’s likely that Ryuu’s outpouring of emotions has left a faint echo of what he once felt there. As for your dream…” Arlo’s words trailed off for a moment. “Actually, I don’t believe it was your dreams at all. I think somehow you witnessed one of Ryuu’s dreams. Probably because you were wearing Samara’s amulet.”
“My mother’s amulet? How could a crystal amulet cause me to see Ryuu’s dreams?” Lusam asked, pulling it free from under his shirt and examining it closely.
Arlo chuckled and slowly shook his head. “That’s not a crystal, Lusam. It’s a dragon tear.”
“A dragon tear,” Lusam echoed, looking down at the amulet in his hand.
“Yes, an extremely rare and powerful thing.”
“What… dragons don’t cry?” Lusam replied, half in jest.
“No, they don’t, as a matter of fact. At least not unless they are bonded to a Guardian. And even then only in the rarest of circumstances. As I said earlier, both the dragon and human take on certain traits of the other during the bonding process. One of those traits from the dragon’s perspective is a heightened sense of emotion. Something that they have to learn how to overcome, and usually do without too many issues. But in certain extreme circumstances, such as the loss of their bonded Guardian, or in Ryuu’s case, his long-term mate, they can become overwhelmed by the intense emotions, and sometimes a dragon tear is shed. That particular dragon tear is far more important than you realise. It was shed when we first returned to Lohlaen after being trapped inside here for weeks, and as far as I am aware, it’s the only one Ryuu has ever shed. It’s why he was able to invade your dreams, and also why he was aware of your presence in this realm long before I was. But more importantly, it’s also the dragon tear that your mother found in the ruins of Lohlaen, and the reason why she survived passing through the portal into this world. And of course, the reason why you are here now.”
“My mother!” Lusam gasped, leaning forward across the table. A grin spread across Arlo’s face at seeing Lusam’s sudden excitement.
“I suppose you want me to tell you all about her, don’t you?” Arlo teased, picking up his cup and taking a slow drink from it. Lusam nodded enthusiastically.
“Alright, I will,” Arlo replied, his grin widening still further. “Right after our first lesson in meditation… tomorrow.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Lusam’s new sleeping cell was not unlike the one he had occupied in Mr Daffer’s basement. In fact, the only real difference between the two was that this one contained much newer furniture, and Neala wasn’t there with him. Something he had become even more acutely aware of as the days slowly turned into weeks.
Arlo had been true to his word and told him all about his mother, and how she had inadvertently stumbled into the hidden realm. Lusam had never known, but apparently, his mother had been a keen and accomplished archaeologist within Afaraon. For a long time, she had refused to work directly for the High Temple, as she didn’t believe in their long-standing plan to consolidate their dwindling forces simply to buy themselves a little more time. In her view, they had already given up the fight against The Empire, and by doing so had accepted their own inevitable defeat. She, however, had a very different view.
His mother believed that it was not only the number and strength of the magi in Afaraon that was diminishing, but also their knowledge and understanding of magic as a whole. She knew that there was nothing that she or anyone else could do about the number or strength of the magi born within Afaraon, but she believed that the lost knowledge of the past could help prevent many of their deaths at the hands of The Empire. Her lifelong goal was simple: discover lost artefacts and magic which could aid in the fight against The Empire, which in turn would allow more newborn magi to survive, and ultimately lead to a stronger and more powerful Afaraon overall. The reality, however, was very different, and Lusam wasn’t at all surprised to learn that many people opposed her ambitions, stating that it would only hasten The Empire’s final attack should they find out about it. Nor did it surprise him to discover that her most prominent detractor was Afaraon’s own monarchy.
After finding it practically impossible to secure any financial backing for her endeavours, she had eventually found herself destitute on the streets of Lamuria and was forced to seek the help of the High Temple. As she was a relatively powerful mage they were more than happy to take her in, and eventually, she became good friends with the High Priest. She soon discovered that he was actually sympathetic to her views, at least in part, and agreed with her about what had been lost over the centuries. He eventually confided in her about the High Temple’s secret desire to locate the lost Guardian books, and soon they were discussing a possible joint venture. The High Temple officially sanctioned and funded her search under the guise of clerical research, and with the knowledge she had gained over many years, combined with the additional information she had acquired from the High Temple’s extensive library, she was soon on her way to the first of many destinations.
Her long search eventually led her to the ruins of Lohlaen, where amongst other things, she discovered the dragon tear. It was the height of summer when she arrived on the island, and she planned to spend at least a month there surveying the ancient ruins. She had learned from the High Temple’s historical records that Lohlaen had been devastated by an earthquake almost two thousand years before. What wasn’t contained in the records, however, was any reference to it being the location of a Guardian book. Nor was there any mention of a Guardian ever having visited Lohlaen.
After spending her first week on the island, and discovering little more than what she thought was only a crystal, along with a few other minor trinkets, it became obvious that the ruins had long ago be picked clean by the inhabitants of the nearby mainland. With that in mind she decided to widen her search area, and on one particularly calm day, she found herself sitting on the edge of the cliff eating her lunch, and looking down at the sea below. She noticed what looked like a shadow below the surface, and soon began to wonder if it might have originally been part of a larger settlement on the island. The historical records had not mentioned any buildings other than Lohlaen itself, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any. She also realised that there had not been any mention of the size of the island. For all she knew, a large portion of it could have simply slipped into the sea when the earthquake had struck. And she realised that if that was the case, any artefacts that had been within the buildings at the time, were most likely still on the sea floor only a few feet beneath the surface.
The temptation had simply been too much for her, and she soon found herself climbing down a rope towards the ocean below. She knew that her clothes would quickly dry again in the strong summer heat, and she had always been a good swimmer, so she had no real concerns at that point. What she hadn’t counted on, however, were the strong currents around the island, which dragged her under only moments after entering the water. The current funnelled her directly through the portal, and fortunately for her, she still had possession of the dragon tear in her pocket.
Apparently, she tried in vain for hours to reach the portal again, but at that time she didn’t know how to levitate, and therefore couldn’t possibly reach it—luckily for her. Almost the instant she arrived, Ryuu had detected her presence through his connection to the tear, and went in search of her. At that time the dragon tear was not damaged and still contained a large amount of power, which made it much easier for Ryuu to locate compared to when Lusam had entered the realm more recently.
Lusam had pleaded with Arlo to tell him more of his mother, but he had insisted that there would be time for that later, after his training was complete. He warned him that any extra emotional baggage that he picked up now, would only make it harder for him to attain the level of meditation required to eventually read the Guardian book later. Whether that was true, or it was just that it was too difficult for him to revisit the memories yet, Lusam didn’t really know
.
More than two weeks had passed since he had started his training, and he was beginning to wonder if he would ever reach the level of mind control set by his father. Each morning he rose before dawn and made his way to the main chamber, where Arlo would always be waiting for him. They ate a simple breakfast together. Usually, a thick tasteless porridge flavoured with honey, and then his training began.
All along, Arlo had voiced his concerns for Lusam’s safety regarding his attempt to read the Guardian book, but just over a week ago, he had come up with a way of reducing the risks involved. Lusam didn’t particularly like his plan when he heard it, but he also couldn’t deny the merits of it either. Arlo’s intention was to form a link with Lusam’s mind, then unlock a small piece of information that would otherwise have been hidden until he had read the fourth Guardian book. He was convinced that if he did that each day until Lusam was ready to read the Guardian book, it would reduce the overall amount of information that his mind would have to process in one go. And as an added benefit, it would also aid in Lusam’s understanding of magic in general, especially if he carefully chose which information to reveal.
The training was relentless and followed the same rigid structure day after day. First, they would eat breakfast, then Arlo would delve into his mind for the next piece of information to release, causing a headache that would last for the rest of the morning. Lusam complained that it made it impossible to concentrate on his meditation lessons, but Arlo insisted that the opposite was actually true, and that if he attained the level of meditation required, the pain would no longer be an issue. Lusam wasn’t convinced, but he had already found it pointless to argue with his father.
