Dragon Scepter

by Angelique Anderson

  Astrid’s lips pressed tight together.

  “I’m sorry… I’m rambling. It’s just—it’s been so long since I’ve been able to talk to someone. To really talk. I’ve been trapped in darkness for so long.”

  Astrid smiled. “It’s fine. Though, I’m sure Emmeline would be more than happy to get reacquainted with you over the next few weeks.”

  His cheeks puffed out in a smile. “I would like that. Please, if you could, tell her to visit me when she’s feeling up to it.”

  Astrid stood. “I will.”

  “And I will send those letters out.”

  Astrid bowed to him, then strode to the door. She took one last look at him. He was alone. He’d spent years trapped inside of his own head with a dark wizard making all the calls, and now he was finally free, but still—he was alone. Astrid did plan to talk to Emmeline to have her stop by and talk to him. If the darkness surrounding his soul was truly gone, then he needed someone to be there for him. He couldn’t become trapped into himself.

  “Thank you,” she said before opening the door and heading out into the dark corridor.

  6

  Jakobe

  When you lose everything you once knew, it leaves you empty, and clueless of what to do next. Do you move on? Can you? There will be a part of you that wants to hold on, but there will be another part of you that knows you must let go. If you linger too long in your own shattered world, you’ll realize it’s impossible to put all the pieces back together. Wounds heal with time—but the pain never truly goes away. Sometimes you have to make the decision to drop the broken pieces and instead of attempting to rebuild your life, you need to start a new one, and to make it successful, you’ll need to find new pieces to replace the ones that have been broken.

  King Thomasett the Kind, Second King of Aequoris, 326 A.V.

  Jakobe glanced at the pink sunrise peaking over the mountaintops. He wondered if he should say goodbye to anyone, but he didn’t really know anyone in the city. Svana’s sister—the one with the blue hair—knew he was leaving. He wondered if he should tell the other sister, but decided she’d find out from the blue-haired sister. Jakobe looked once more around Telluris before heading to the gates.

  The journey wouldn’t be too long, but it would be perilous. Jakobe had always wanted to go see the volcano, he’d been at the base of it the very day he’d met Svana, with the hopes of making his way inside—he’d heard many things about it in his past. He’d heard the molten lava on the inside could form any weapon and worked better than any blacksmith forge. He unsheathed the sword and held it up to the sunlight as he walked, wondering if that’s how the sword was formed.

  When he reached the road, he paused. He didn’t know if he wanted to head straight for Volican, the Island he’d been instructed to journey to where the girls once lived, or if he wanted to go to the village to let Percival and Eloise know where he was traveling.

  I will support your decision, Jakobe, Lingaria said into his mind, but… Svana doesn’t have a lot of time.

  Jakobe frowned. He wanted to see Percival and Eloise—he hadn’t seen them since before he was attacked in the village, but he knew reaching Volican was much more important. More than anything else, Svana was on his mind.

  “What is at Volican that I need to save her?” Jakobe asked.

  It is not something in Volican, but more or less near, and it’s certainly not something I can explain to you, Jakobe. You must go and discover for yourself, Lingaria said.

  It wasn’t the first time Jakobe had tried to ask, and he imagined it wouldn’t be the last time. He struggled not knowing what he was doing. It was even worse since he had to leave Svana’s side to start the journey. He hadn’t been gone long, but he already began to think about how she was doing—and if she would wake up… would there be anyone by her side to greet her?

  She is in good hands, Lingaria said.

  “I know,” Jakobe said through clenched teeth, irritated that the scaled beast seemed to read his every thought without his permission.

  Jakobe put the sword back, hand on the base for comfort as he walked. With the Tellurian kingdom getting farther behind him, he could feel the ache in his chest that had begun. An unfamiliar feeling that he associated with Svana. He ran one hand through his hair, willing that she could hear his thoughts. I would do anything for you, my Svana, he thought, trust me when I say that I will come back for you, and I will bring a cure, no matter what it costs.

  Lingaria hmphed inside his head.

  “What is that about?” Jakobe said aloud.

  You cannot promise that, you don’t know what it will cost.

  “That’s the thing, if it means saving her, it doesn’t matter,” he responded, marching assuredly onward, the dog sniffing along the road at his side.

  The journey was long, and as he came closer to his village, the pull to stop and say his farewells to Eloise and Percival grew stronger. They had put themselves in harm’s way more than once for him, and Svana. He owed it to them.

  “A moment,” he said out loud, “just a moment, and I won’t linger.” He expected Lingaria to stop him, but the dragon stayed silent as he got closer and closer to the village. It didn’t take long for him to see why the beast had not tried to stop him, there was nothing but destruction as far as his eyes could see. Everything had been demolished.

  When reaching the outskirts, he saw the old farms burnt to the ground. The homes—and the crops. It was all gone. His mouth dropped as he paused to look at the destruction. He felt his legs falter, his heart sinking to his feet for his people.

  You mustn’t linger, Lingaria said.

  “What happened?” he whispered.

  War.

  Jakobe shook his head. “The battle was nowhere near here.”

  Bandits who took it upon themselves to stir things up.

  “Why?”

  People were uprising against the king. Many people were still loyal to him, and desired to teach those who oppose him a lesson.

  Jakobe clenched his teeth.

  You must keep moving, Lingaria said, fighting Jakobe’s desire to stay and see to any survivors. There is nothing that can be done for now, you must try to save Svana.

  Jakobe nodded his head in understanding, even as he entered the village. He simply couldn’t pass it by and pretend like he did not see what had occurred there. Inside, it was worse than the outskirts. Buildings, homes, markets—they were all destroyed. And the streets were empty. Where had everyone gone?

  He didn’t plan to stop in the village. With Svana on his mind, he planned to pass straight through. But now, he couldn’t. He knew Svana needed him, but what if someone here needed him? Grinding his teeth, he cursed himself for not being there—for not helping the villagers fight back.

  There’s nothing you could have done here, Lingaria said.

  Jakobe’s fist clenched. He didn’t believe that. No, he probably wouldn’t have won, and he probably would have died. But he was sure he could have made a difference. He could have saved lives.

  You’re saving lives right now. You’re going to save Svana’s life. And by doing so, you’re going to save all of Telluris.

  Jakobe wanted to disregard the dragon, to argue his point that not a single life was more important than another, but he knew the beast was right. However, he couldn’t just pass through. Not without at least checking on Percival and Eloise. Finding his calm, he strode for Ye Olde Wayward Lady.

  The outside of the tavern was burnt. Black char marks lined the walls, and the door was half scorched to ash. Clenching his eyes to prevent tears, he pushed forward, stepping into the tavern. Inside, he found bodies. Patrons. There were at least a dozen bodies on the floor.

  “No,” Jakobe whispered.

  A crossbow loaded.

  Jakobe turned, placing his hand on the hilt of the dragon sword. Eloise faced him, a crossbow aimed at his temple. He removed his hand from the hilt of the sword and raised both his hands in the air as he faced her.
/>   “Jakobe?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “You’re back?”

  “What happened here?” Jakobe asked.

  “Bandits.”

  Jakobe shook his head. “This is more than bandits. This looks like an army swept through here.”

  Eloise shrugged. “Might as well have been. There are at least a hundred.”

  “Why are they doing this?” he asked.

  “There is more and more talk about opposing the king. That woman of yours has started an uproar. People want to fight back. People want freedom.”

  “This isn’t freedom,” Jakobe said.

  Eloise shook her head. “They aren’t freedom seekers. The people who did this call themselves loyalists. They say they are loyal to the king and are teaching the people a lesson for daring to speak of opposing the king.”

  “That’s criminal,” Jakobe said.

  “Not if it’s by order of the king.”

  “It isn’t.”

  Eloise raised a brow.

  “The king was under a spell. A dark wizard has been controlling him for several years now. Svana has defeated the wizard. Now the king is back to normal. And he wants peace… not this.”

  “If that’s true… I still don’t know if it’ll stop the loyalists,” Eloise said.

  “Where is Percival?” Jakobe asked.

  He looked around the bar once more, but all he saw was her. He saw the destruction of the bar and the tables, and the bodies, but he couldn’t see the bar owner anywhere.

  “Gone.”

  Jakobe tilted his head. “Gone where?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Jakobe gasped.

  “At first we fought back against these loyalists. They started while you were still here. In fact, they had captured you. Svana came and rescued you. But you were injured, so she took you to her sister. Well, the loyalists didn’t stop. They continued to fight, until they destroyed the entire village. When we realized we couldn’t fight them, we hid. After a while, they left. But when we thought they were finally gone, they returned. I watched as they slit my husband’s throat.”

  Jakobe’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.”

  “Then I put a bolt straight through the murderer’s skull.”

  “There was only one who came back?” Jakobe asked.

  “Three. The other two I used my dagger.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Where is Svana?” Eloise asked. She glanced to his hip and noticed the weapon. “And is that her sword?”

  Jakobe gulped. “She’s in a coma. I’m on a mission to save her.”

  “So, you never planned on returning?”

  “Not yet.”

  Eloise’s lips pressed together tight. “I suppose there’s no reason to stay now. There’s nothing left here.”

  Jakobe was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. He still couldn’t believe the destruction that happened to his village.

  “May I join you?” Eloise asked.

  “Hmm?” Jakobe asked, only half paying attention.

  “May I join you on your quest? There is nothing holding me here any longer.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Is the red dragon with you?” she asked.

  His eyes bulged. “You know about the dragon?”

  She smiled. “He showed himself to us when Svana was in danger.”

  “He is the one who gave me this quest to save Svana.”

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Volican.”

  Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “The volcano?”

  Jakobe nodded. “It’s where Svana and her sisters came from. And there is something there I can use to heal Svana. At least, that’s what her dragon tells me.”

  “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” Eloise said as she secured her crossbow to her back.

  Jakobe wanted to grieve for his village. He wanted to stop and say a prayer to the Unseen Ones. He wanted to seek out the so-called Loyalists and fight them. Jakobe didn’t know if he wanted revenge or vengeance. But he knew he didn’t have time for any of it. Svana didn’t have time.

  He was glad to have Eloise with him, but—at the same time, it reminded him of the destruction of his village. However, she was like a mother to him, and it was good to have her around. Jakobe’s mother died when he was young, and all he had was a father. His father did his best to raise him and ended up making Jakobe an apprentice in his blacksmith shop. It was from him that Jakobe learned about wood and metal. Wood was as important to a blacksmith as metal was. Some wood was stronger than other wood and made better handles for different types of weapons or tools. And, of course, the occasional noble who would pass through who was more concerned with the color of the wood rather than the stability.

  When it came to motherly love, he remembered Eloise always being there for him. At times when he was ill, she’d come over to their house with her Barinella soup. She was there to comfort him in times when his father had to work. And, when his father fell ill when Jakobe was a young adult, she was there for him as well.

  With as much as Eloise took care of Jakobe when he was younger, he wanted to return the favor by looking after her now. With Percival gone, Eloise had no one. No one except Jakobe. He wished he was more of a fighter. Jakobe spent his whole life with tools and weapons. He’d studied them. He knew every way to make them, but he’d never spent a whole lot of time learning how to use them.

  Don’t worry about that, Lingaria said in his mind. If we run into trouble, I’ll be here to help guide you.

  Jakobe nodded.

  They’d left the destroyed inn and wandered the streets of the village. They still had to make their way through it toward the volcano.

  Jakobe led Eloise. He knew which way to go. It wasn’t all intuition. Lingaria was directing him in his mind.

  When they reached the edge of the village, Jakobe had a tingle run up his back. His body shivered as he glanced around. Something wasn’t right. Jakobe wasn’t sure what was off, but he knew something was. The dog that had been following him started to bark wildly and ran off into the woods.

  Watch out! Lingaria yelled into his mind.

  Jakobe grabbed Eloise and pushed the two of them to the ground as an arrow blazed over the two of them. He rolled in the dirt, rose to his feet, and unsheathed the dragon sword. His eyes focused as they searched for an enemy. In the distance he saw three armed men watching them. Two of the men held swords and the third nocked another arrow.

  This time, Jakobe was ready. The arrow soared through the air toward him. He shifted the sword, edging it to an angle as the arrow encountered it. The sword glowed a bright crimson as Lingaria’s magical energy pulsed through it. Jakobe felt a low vibration as the arrow seared in half.

  No way, that’s impossible, he thought.

  I wanted to make a show, Lingaria said.

  “Attack!” one of the men yelled.

  The two men with swords charged.

  Jakobe balanced the sword as he prepared for them to attack. The sword felt strange in his hands. The balance was perfect, far better than any sword he’d ever made. But a sword would have never been his weapon of choice—if he’d ever have to choose a weapon to fight. Jakobe imagined himself with a hammer or an axe. But a sword had never crossed his mind.

  The first man approached him to Jakobe’s left. His sword slamming down at an angle. Jakobe brought the dragon sword up to intercept the strike. Metal clanged against metal. The second man was at Jakobe’s right, his sword slicing sideways through the air toward Jakobe’s waist. Jakobe spun backward, bringing the sword closer to him and away from his other attacker. He had to angle the sword down to block the strike. When he did, his first attacker swung his weapon toward Jakobe’s head.

  Jakobe fell to the ground, missing the sword above his head by inches. He swept his legs into the attacker to his right, knocking him onto the ground. Jakobe crawled over to the man,
shoving the hilt of his sword into the man’s head, rendering him unconscious.

  When he rolled to his back to look up, his other opponent was bringing down his sword toward Jakobe’s head. There wasn’t enough time to intercept the strike. Jakobe tried anyway, but he knew he’d be too late.

  A bolt penetrated the man’s head from the side and blood sprayed onto Jakobe’s face. The man collapsed onto Jakobe, and he fought to push the dead man off himself. His breaths came to rapid gasps as he rolled the man off of him and got to his feet.

  Eloise stood off to the side, loading another bolt into her crossbow.

  “Thanks,” he croaked.

  She nodded at him.

  Jakobe hadn’t planned on killing anyone. Well, he hadn’t planned on fighting anyone either. But once he realized he had to, he planned to injure them and move on. Like he had the first man, knocking him out. But Eloise had killed the second man. She hadn’t even hesitated. Jakobe gulped.

  As he stood and looked around, he realized there were only two bodies. The unconscious man, and the one Eloise had killed.

  “Where is the archer?” Jakobe asked.

  “Dead,” Eloise said.

  “You killed him?”

  Eloise nodded.

  “Eloise—I—”

  Eloise aimed the crossbow at him, and another bolt soared through the air.

  Jakobe flinched as the bolt flew over his shoulder. Gurgling came from behind him. He turned around to see the man he rendered unconscious move his hands to his throat where a crossbow bolt protruded.

  He fell to the ground, dropping a dagger that was clutched in his hand. A dagger that was meant for Jakobe’s throat. Eloise had saved him.

  Jakobe brought his own hands to his throat, rubbing it gently.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “Did you have to kill them?” Jakobe studied her face, the remnants of the battles she had fought over the past days etched in the newfound wrinkles in her forehead, and around her eyes.