“Good,” Cayden said through clenched teeth.
“I know you are angry with him… but you must let that anger go.”
“You’re one to talk,” Cayden muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I saw the way you looked at me when you learned Emmeline was my sister, and the way you looked at me when you came to speak with me today. You’re angry with me.”
“Yes… I am, but I’m not as angry as when I first came,” Astrid admitted.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because you’ve talked with me. I had to understand why you did what you did, and I believe I do now. Though, if you want to have my trust, you must not hide anything else from me.”
He gulped. “I want your trust.”
Astrid wanted to give him her trust, but it was still too fresh, still too painful that he didn’t trust her with the truth. She understood why he did what he did, but it would still take time.
He leaned in closer to her, his lips coming inches from hers. Her breathing stopped as her body shivered, but she stepped backward, avoiding his lips. They hadn’t kissed before, and she was not yet ready. He’d made his affection for her clear, but she didn’t return his affection—at least, she wasn’t ready to admit that she returned his affection. She found herself thinking of him often, ever since the first time she’d met him, and abandoned him in camp, but this was moving too fast for her. She had things she needed to do, tasks she had to accomplish, and a kingdom she had to rule.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, you’re right. It isn’t proper.”
Astrid tilted her head. “I don’t know about not being proper… but I’m still hurt that you didn’t tell me about Emmeline. I’m no longer angry at you… but I’m still hurt—”
“What can I do… what can I say?” he interrupted.
She shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do or say. This isn’t something you can just slap a sling on to make better, Cayden. This is something that will take time to mend. Besides, I have too many obligations to take on another right now. I need to do what I can to help Telluris, then I have to return to Caelestis.”
He nodded, though his eyes looked empty as they looked back into hers.
Astrid bit her lip as she looked at him. He was handsome; she’d thought that ever since the very beginning, and her opinion wasn’t any different now. He cared for her, and if she admitted it to herself, she cared for him, but she wasn’t yet ready. She wasn’t ready to forgive him for keeping Emmeline from her, and she wasn’t ready for a relationship. She had people depending on her. Her sisters depended on her. She was the eldest sister, and it was on her to make sure they were safe. Her eye twitched. She’d failed Svana, but she needed to watch over Hekla. And all the people of all three kingdoms. Since she was the eldest, she was not only dependent to watch over Caelestis, but also Aequoris and Telluris were her burden as well. The weight of all of Verdil resided on her shoulders.
You are not responsible for everyone, Astrid, Aronus said into her mind.
But I am, Aronus! Astrid rebuked. I was tasked at a young age to keep watch over Svana and Hekla, and through them, I am responsible for their kingdoms.
They are adults now, Astrid. They are responsible for their own kingdoms.
And if they are to fail?
You must have faith, Astrid. Palladin wouldn’t have given them their own kingdoms to save had he not believed they could accomplish it. You are responsible for no one but yourself.
Astrid shook her head, trying to clear it from Aronus’s words. Could he be right? Should she stop worrying over her sisters. Nay. She could not. Though, perhaps, she needed to come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t be there to fix all of their problems.
She reached her hand out and touched Cayden’s cheek.
He flinched under her touch, but he did not move. After a second’s pause, he placed his hand over hers, pressing it harder onto his cheek and closing his eyes. They lingered like that for several long seconds before Astrid withdrew her hand.
Astrid turned away.
“Will there ever be time for us?” Cayden asked.
Astrid looked over her shoulder. “One day.”
“But not today…” he whispered.
“Not today,” Astrid confirmed.
With one last look at his solemn face, she walked away, leaving him alone in the courtyard.
3
Jakobe
Everyone has a chance to save someone’s life. Sometimes it’s as simple as being a part of someone’s life—someone who had a hard time and needed a friend—a shoulder to cry on. Other times, it is more complicated, and yet simpler at the same time—a conversation, a kind word. But other times, you are presented with a quest to save someone. In those times, you must not hesitate. You need to grab your bag and knock down the door on your way out. Because the time to save someone’s life is fleeting, and every second matters.
King Ansel the Humble, First King of Aequori, 254 A.V.
Jakobe ran his fingers through his hair. Tears caked his face and would no longer wipe away. He was supposed to be a strong man, not one prone to tears. He shouldn’t be so affected by a woman who rejected his feelings… and yet, he couldn’t help himself. His heart ached.
He stared through his fingers at the woman he adored. She laid peacefully on the bed, unmoving. Jakobe grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his old, crusty tears away. She wasn’t dead. But neither was she alive. Svana slumbered in a coma. Her chest moved up and down ever so slightly—so softly that if you weren’t paying close attention, you wouldn’t even notice it.
Hekla had done everything she could to heal her sister. But it hadn’t been enough. Svana was lost to them. Her mortal wounds had been healed, but her consciousness was lost—perhaps forever. Everyone else had to move on. Soon, Hekla would return to Aequoris, and Astrid to Caelestis. But Jakobe couldn’t move on. He wouldn’t move on. If Svana still breathed, he would be by her side.
Svana’s coma was deeper than the one the king had, as at least his could be healed with Aquaberries, but Svana was unaffected, even with the few Aquaberries Hekla had hidden away in her sash. Hekla worried that Svana would never wake. She lived by a thread. That’s what Hekla told him.
Jakobe cursed Hekla for not having the power to save her. He cursed the Unseen Ones for allowing her to fall, and he cursed himself for not being able to save her.
There was one chance that might bring her back, but it would deplete Hekla’s own life to try it, and she didn’t know if it would even work. One life for another—with the potential for it to fail. Jakobe almost wanted Hekla to do it, anything to try and bring Svana back, but he knew he couldn’t ask her to do it.
Besides, Svana’s mission was complete. She had set out to restore peace to Telluris. And she had. The king was no longer under his spell. The dark wizard was dead, and with him, the darkness clouding the king. Yet, it didn’t feel like it was complete. The people no longer trusted the king. And Jakobe didn’t know if the king would ever earn back their trust. It would be a long process. Svana was still needed. Jakobe told as much to the Unseen Ones—if they even listened to prayers.
The kings of the other two kingdoms were still corrupt. Svana’s sisters needed to leave. They needed to restore peace to the other kingdoms. Perhaps in a few generations, peace can be accomplished between the kingdoms.
Jakobe dropped his head in his hands once more. He felt so defeated.
A low buzzing startled him, and he looked around the room, searching for its source. The dog in the room who hadn’t left Svana’s side also began to bark. He looked to the dog for a moment before turning to the rest of the room.
Svana’s sword was in its scabbard, leaning in the corner of the small room. A low red light emanated from the top of the scabbard, pulsating. Jakobe’s eyebrows furrowed. He stood, glanced around the room one more time, then tiptoed over to the sword. Jakobe paused at he reached it, th
en carefully, edged his hand forward. The pulsating red light increased in speed, and the humming grew louder.
The dog barked louder.
Taking a deep breath, he unsheathed the sword. The entire blade glowed a deep red, flickering in the low torchlight of the room. As he held it in his hands, the glow faded slightly, as if it wasn’t as eager to get his attention. He frowned at the weapon. Jakobe was a blacksmith. He knew about all weapons and how to make them, but for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what would make this sword glow. Jakobe had studied it a while back, but not very carefully. Now as he held it in his hands, he took a closer look.
The hilt was unique, the end of it had four small spikes that held a glowing red globe. When he tried to gently tug it free, though it looked like it’d easily move, it wouldn’t budge. The handle was soft and felt good in his grip. The cross-guard was unique. Instead of standard steel spreading out from the blade, it looked like wings, though not bird wings. They almost looked bat in appearance, but that wasn’t quite right either. If Jakobe didn’t know any better, he’d say they were dragon wings, though, Jakobe had never seen a dragon before, and he couldn’t be certain. The blade itself was stained red in color with a slight silver hue on its edges, and a diamond near the cross-guard to off-balance an attacker.
It’s about time you got the hint, a voice said inside of Jakobe’s head.
Jakobe’s eyes widened and he dropped the sword onto the ground. He looked around the entire room but saw no one… except the dog. His eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at the animal. The voice couldn’t be coming from the dog… could it?
No, you foolish human. You insult me to compare me to that mutt!
“Who are you then?” Jakobe asked aloud.
The sword.
Jakobe shook his head. “No… swords don’t talk.”
Pick up the sword.
Jakobe trembled as he leaned down and grabbed the sword. He didn’t know why he felt compelled to grab the sword, but he did anyway. It continued to pulsate in his hands, then a swirl of crimson smoke filled the air—coming from the sword and gathering on the bed at Svana’s feet. When the smoke dissipated, a small, red dragon sat at the foot of the bed.
Jakobe stepped backward, nearly tripping over the dog who began to whimper.
“Do not drop that sword again, human!” the dragon snapped.
Jakobe’s eyes widened. The dragon spoke. Actual words came out of the creature’s mouth. It was the same tone as the voice inside of his head.
“Get back, demon!” Jakobe said.
“Demon?” the dragon said. “I am no demon. I am a dragon. I’m much smarter—and better looking.”
Jakobe continued to move backward, and this time, he did trip over the dog and fall to the ground onto his bottom. He glanced up to see the small dragon curl up onto Svana’s lap and begin to make an odd noise.
“Are you purring?” Jakobe asked.
“Dragons don’t purr,” the dragon said.
“A real dragon,” Jakobe gasped.
“Well, I’m definitely not a fake dragon.”
“How would you know if you were a real dragon or a fake dragon?” Jakobe asked.
The little red dragon tilted its head as if to consider Jakobe’s words. Then it shook its head like a dog trying to get the rain off its fur.
“I don’t have time for these word games, human,” the dragon said.
“Who are you?” Jakobe asked.
“My name is Lingaria, and I have been Svana’s guide.”
“Guide?” Jakobe asked.
Lingaria shook his head. “There isn’t time to explain all the details. Just know this: I was chosen by the Unseen Ones to guide Svana into Telluris to restore peace.”
Jakobe’s lips pressed tightly together. “Well, I suppose I should wish you a job well done.”
The dragon shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this.”
“I hope not.”
“Listen… there may be a way to save Svana.”
Jakobe’s interest peaked at his words. Svana had a chance of survival? How much of a chance? It didn’t matter really. Whatever the cost… Jakobe would pay It.
“How?” Jakobe asked.
“It won’t be easy,” Lingaria admitted. “And it will be very dangerous.”
“What do I need to do?” Jakobe asked.
“Leave Svana here.”
Jakobe flinched. “I don’t want to leave her side.”
“You have to, and you must take me with you.”
Jakobe tilted his head.
“I am one with the sword,” the dragon said. “Take me and together we can save Svana.”
Jakobe looked to the sword he had laid on the ground. “Who will look after Svana?”
“She has many friends here. They will look after her.” Lingaria lifted his head indignantly in the air, his eyes blinking knowingly.
Jakobe shook his head. “I don’t want to leave her.”
“Do you want to save her?” the dragon asked, his tail flicking behind his body, as if to emphasize his statement.
Jakobe sighed. “Of course.”
“Well, you and I are the only ones who can. I need you… Svana needs you.”
The dragon seemed annoyed to ask for his help, as if he was better than Jakobe since he was a dragon. Lingaria then tilted his head, looking at Svana’s slumbering body, and sighed. The dragon seemed to ponder on his statement, as if knowing it to be true. His eyes showed that he took responsibility for Svana’s state.
Closing his eyes, Jakobe took a slow, long breath.
“Will you join me?” Lingaria asked.
Jakobe nodded.
“Pick up the sword.”
His feet were weak, and his movements were unsteady, but he balanced the sword in his hands. He reached to the corner of the room and grabbed the scabbard to attach to his belt. The dog approached him and sat by his side, barking once.
Jakobe smiled at the animal. “Are you coming with me, boy?” he asked, reaching his hand down to pet the top of the dog’s head.
The dragon nuzzled his jaw against Svana’s face, then crawled back to the edge of the bed.
“Are you ready?” Jakobe asked.
Let’s go, Lingaria said into his mind.
The dragon transformed back into a wisp of smoke and spiraled back into the sword. Jakobe watched in awe at the sight. It was something he’d never seen before. Magic. It had to be. He knew weapons. After all, he was a blacksmith. But this… this was something entirely different. Closing his eyes, he took one last slow inhalation, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating, then reached for the door.
4
Hekla
There are times in life where you feel useless—like you can’t do anything… at least, you can’t help where you want to. But you must remember, there are others out there besides yourself who are called to great things. Sometimes, you need to travel in a completely different direction, and let someone else take the reins. Not all problems can be solved by a single person.
King Arnott the Wise, Second King of Telluris, 318 A.V.
Hekla’s steps were careful. Cautious. She was exhausted. She’d done all she could to save her sister the other night, and all she could accomplish was prevent her death. Yet, Svana’s fragile form still lay unmoving in a coma, her sapphire hair displayed about her like a crown. Hekla had failed. And now, she was exhausted from healing Emmeline and Tristan.
They are alive because of you, Speltus said.
My sister is in a coma because I’m not strong enough, Hekla retorted.
The whole world cannot rest on your shoulders, Hekla. You are acting too much like your eldest sister.
Hekla’s lips twitched into a small smile. I’ll take that as a compliment. Although Astrid’s motherly demeanor had been annoying at times, she’d also saved them all more times than Hekla could count. Not only that, but the things she had taught them had helped the them survive, even now.
; Before she could open the door in front of her, it opened from the inside. Hekla’s forehead creased as she looked at a startled Jakobe. His jaw was set in a hard line, and he looked prepared to make a long journey. And… Hekla paused. Svana’s scabbard was attached to his waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Hekla asked.
“I don’t know,” Jakobe said, his forehead creased, and his expression clearly distracted.
“More importantly, where in the blazes do you think you’re going with my sister’s sword?”
She could feel her blood running hot, her fingers shaking as she contemplated how to get the magical weapon back from him. Hekla didn’t know this Jakobe well. All she knew was how much her sister cared for the man. She’d spent a little time with him when she healed him, but it wasn’t enough for her to determine him trustworthy with her sister’s sword. Jakobe seemed nice enough, but—she still didn’t know him.
“I—I.” He gulped. “I don’t know how to explain.”
A swirl of blue mist came from Hekla’s scepter and glided into the room. Jakobe jumped back, his eyes fearful, but familiar—like he’d seen something similar before.
Speltus appeared in the room, his small blue body hovering mid-air, scales reflecting the small rays of sunlight that trickled into the window. Hekla tilted her head as she looked at her dragon. He’d never shown himself to people before. And she knew a lot more people than this Jakobe that she trusted, and yet—Speltus hadn’t shown himself to them.
“Speltus?” she asked, head leaned slightly to the side in curiosity.
“It is all right, Hekla,” Speltus said aloud, his wings flapping gently.
Jakobe fell against the wall behind him. “Oh, great… another one.”
Hekla raised a single eyebrow. “Another?” What in the world was going on? she thought.
Mist formed from the hilt of the sword at his waist and Lingaria appeared next to his brother.
“I have made myself known to the blacksmith,” Lingaria admitted.
Dragon Scepter Page 3
