Dragon Scepter

by Angelique Anderson

  You've done quite well, Astrid. Certainly, much better than I think any of the Unseen Ones had expected. This is war, but it is also peace. The latter cannot be attained without the former, Aronus spoke finally as if unable to keep to himself while her thoughts ran wild through her mind.

  Not a single bit of landscape discouraged Astrid and Cayden, and soon they emerged atop the steep cleft. The cloud-like steps to the sky kingdom lied just a few feet away.

  She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and in her heart felt an almost longing to be there with the people faster than she could run.

  Telluris had its own beauty, lush green foliage, trees scattered like broken promises across the land. Charming villages, and cabins that promised a life she would never have.

  Here, in Caelestis, she could breath. The wind nearly still, she knew she could loose her arrow as often as she pleased, for practice. She only wondered what place Cayden had in that image.

  In the sky kingdom, she could continue to train the Caelestan soldiers, and as her feet stepped forward on the transparent platform that held her up, she saw a friendly face making his way toward her. Quimby! She was so relieved to see him alive, she thought she would quite literally dance her way into Caelestis.

  "Astrid, what a relief to see you here! We all thought for sure you were done!" His eyes turned to linger on Cayden for a moment and he frowned, but for the time being he kept the thoughts he was thinking to himself.

  "Never! I will fight until my death. I will fight for you, for our people... for Caelestis," she said nobly, pulling her bow from its holder on her back. Cayden held his head high, as he stood next to her, offering the rotund man a bow. Quimby ignored the sign of respect, instead turning his attention back to Astrid.

  Overcome with emotion, Astrid used her free hand to throw her arm around him, squeezing his thick shoulders and laughing. "It's good to see you, Quimby!"

  "So, what happened down there? Is the Tellurian king defeated?" He again glanced at Cayden, and Astrid resisted the urge to tell him off. She was just so happy to be home, nothing Quimby could do or say could ruin her mood.

  Astrid shook her head, a half-smile on her face. "No, but there are so many things I need to tell you. Gather our people, I will discuss everything in time. Have our soldiers returned?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

  "The ones who lived," he responded, frowning.

  "Good, hurry, gather them, and I will share everything. Then I must see the king."

  "He will not be pleased that you have returned without seeing to the death of King Armand."

  Astrid felt herself put off by Quimby's demeanor. "You know that I cannot shed blood unless it is necessary. If he is to die, it cannot be by my hand," she finished.

  Almost huffy, Quimby turned away from her, as she watched him go, she wondered why he was so angry, and why he kept giving Cayden dirty looks. She had come back, and not only that, but their soldiers had all mostly returned as well.

  She ran to the training grounds, gathering as many of the Caelestan’s as she could on the way. Most seemed relieved, if not a little surprised to see her returned.

  "Astrid!" many of the soldiers cried.

  A few of the soldiers patted her back, following quickly after her.

  "We thought for sure that was the end of you!"

  "What of King Armand?"

  "Did your sisters survive?"

  "Shhhh, I will answer all of your questions in time. Please, wait for Quimby and the others!" she urged them, laughing lightly at their exuberance. They seemed genuinely happy that she was back, and it was a comforting feeling, even if it surprised her a bit.

  "We've returned," Quimby soon joined them, the remaining Caelestan's following dutifully behind. When they had settled, she cleared her throat, and stood in front of them pacing. Cayden took his place on the ground near her, eyes watching her petite, but muscular form as she struggled to find the words to say.

  "My people, my beloved Caelestan’s. I have so many things to tell you, the least of all is that we have defeated the Tellurian army, and I have so many of you to thank for that. Not only you, but the Aequoran soldiers fought bravely as well. We are closer to peace than we have ever been."

  At that, the lithe beings let loose joyful shouts of cheer.

  "Our journey does not end with our defeat of the Tellurian army."

  "Here, here!" They yelled out. "Kill the king!"

  "No!" she shouted, "King Armand is not our problem. There were forces at hand that we could not see. A dark wizard once controlled the Tellurian King, but he has been defeated. The evil that once ruled the kingdom is gone, and I share this with you to say, that if we are to attain peace as we hope to do, we must accept that the wizard’s defeat has returned King Armand to us. This is something to be joyful about. I know that we have lost many in return, but I am convinced that the just and kind ruler that existed before, now exists again."

  "NO!" Quimby stood. "We cannot forgive years of cruelty, just because you claim that he was controlled by an evil wizard! What proof do we have of this? You, who come, you have cost us soldiers. You have brought outsiders into our kingdom." He motioned to Cayden, who stood his ground next to Astrid.

  "Cayden is not an outsider, he has been a great help to me. To our people," she shouted back at him.

  "He is Tellurian!" Quimby yelled.

  "As are you!" she argued.

  A collective gasp went out from the body of lithe beings, who watched the interchange quietly.

  "I am only half, but he is not even that. What do you think our King will do, when he discovers that you did not kill King Armand, and that you have brought a full-blooded Tellurian here?" Quimby’s round form quaked with rage, even as his wings shook on his back. Among the tall, pale-skinned people, Quimby looked terribly out of place. Did he not see that he was just as out of place as Cayden was? She resisted the urge to point out the obvious to him. "The Caelestan king will not be happy you have returned with nothing to show for it."

  Astrid couldn't believe what she was hearing from him, his demeanor colder than she'd ever seen him. What could have set him off so bad?

  "I don't know where your anger has come from, but I'm sure the king will be grateful that we have defeated the Tellurian army."

  "It doesn't matter," Quimby continued, "You forget that the king's son was killed by Armand. That is not something he will be quick to forgive. If you go to see him, I cannot be held responsible for what happens to you," he placed his hands angrily on his hips, eyeing her with steely resolve.

  "I will take the responsibility for my own actions, and I am willing to fight for my life if I must," she retorted, gripping her bow firmly in her hand. They stood that way for a moment, eyeing each other until Cayden gently tugged on her arm.

  "Come on, we've come here for one thing. It's time."

  She turned to look at him and smiled. The rest of the Caelestan's seemingly shocked into silence by the whole exchange.

  9

  Jakobe

  One doesn’t have only one enemy, just as one doesn’t have but one ally. A person’s allies are many—as are their enemies. Not all of your allies are allies with each other. And not all of your enemies are enemies of each other. Sometimes, you’ll find an unlikely ally in your enemy.

  King Martin the Truthful, Third King of Aequoris, 489 A.V.

  Jakobe and Eloise traveled through several more villages. Some were in the same state as Jakobe’s village. Destroyed, with little to no survivors. Others were abandoned, and the ones that seemed untouched, were reserved. No one in the village would talk to them. It was as if they were scared to speak to the wrong person.

  They didn’t linger in any one place for long. For one, the stares they received. Or, more specifically, the stares Jakobe’s sword received. Everyone knew the weapon. They knew it to be from Svana of the Sword. And they knew according to the loyalists, she was a traitor of the kingdom.

  He could hear their whisperings, Svana’s name at the top
of their conversation time after time. The raised brows as they watched the two of them walk together. More than once, Eloise put her arm on his shoulder, when she detected that his anger might be getting the better of him. Jakobe wanted to knock them on the back of their heads for their foolishness. If anything, Svana was the only person for the kingdom. She wanted it restored to its former glory. Not the selfish bloodlust the king had been thriving for the past decade.

  They camped outside the last village. A village intact, but full of empty stares and silent mouths. It was unnerving, as if it were a city of the dead. Perhaps they would be, and their fear over the loyalists were what kept them silent. But Jakobe wouldn’t know. No questions he asked them got answered.

  A small hill perched outside the western side of the village where Jakobe and Eloise made camp. It was a quiet place, with birds chirping and squirrels leaping from tree to tree as the dog looked up at them while wagging his tail, in the hopes of enticing the small creatures down. But it was also comfortable. A fire pit was dug at the center. It had been used as a camp many times before. Jakobe could tell why. The hill sat in a perfect place to be able to watch for unexpected company on both sides, as well as offered a beautiful view of the sea and sky.

  Jakobe’s gaze lingered on the floating sky kingdom to the east. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. A part of him longed to travel onto the floating cities. They looked like upside-down mountains floating in the sky. Jakobe wondered how the cities floated. Being a blacksmith, his brain was much more logical than it was imaginative. He knew metal and he knew wood. And there was nothing he could do to make any of his tools or weapons float as if there wasn’t an invisible force that pushed them to the ground. It had to be magic. There was no other explanation.

  “How many more days of travel?” Eloise asked, eyes crinkling softly as she watched him set work to set up their camp.

  Jakobe shook his head, bringing himself out of his thoughts as he turned to face her. She sat on a log by the fire, her long hair no longer tied behind her head, and hanging over her right shoulder. Her face was tired, with her eyes drooping and small black bags under them.

  Looking to the mountain in the distance, Jakobe twisted a small stick back and forth on the ground. He’d been wondering the same question and had asked the unwelcome voice in his head repeatedly.

  “The Volcano of Shadows is at least another week away,” Jakobe said.

  Eloise didn’t look encouraged.

  “I know the journey is long. You can leave at any time. You don’t have to stay with me.”

  Eloise half-smirked. “And where should I go? The other destroyed villages? The walking dead villages? No, I don’t think so. Besides, Svana is my friend as well, and I want to do what I can to help her.”

  Jakobe nodded. “Thank you.”

  Twigs snapped behind him. Jakobe turned around, his hand on the hilt of the dragon sword.

  Ten armored men stood at the edge of their camp. They weren’t the normal travelers, nor did they look like the loyalists whom mostly contained leather armored men. These men were different. They looked more like they were part of the king’s army.

  “Good evening. What brings you this far west?” Jakobe asked.

  “We’ve been searching the land for traitors.”

  “Traitors?” Jakobe asked.

  “Like those who follow the red-headed witch. Svana, wasn’t it? I do believe we just overheard the two of you calling her friend.”

  “Svana isn’t the enemy you think she is,” Jakobe said.

  The man unsheathed his sword, as did the other nine men.

  “When was the last time you spoke to the king? Are you sure he’s even the same person he was?” Jakobe asked.

  The man didn’t heed Jakobe’s words as he slashed his sword at Jakobe. Jakobe stepped back, his weapon in his hand, and the power of the dragon flowing through him. He blocked the strike as a bolt flew through the air to strike the man’s chest plate. It didn’t penetrate but ricocheted to hit Jakobe in the forehead. Blood began to smear his vision as he deflected three more strikes.

  Clanging metal echoed on the hilltop as he fought against the warriors. They weren’t as easy as his last opponents, and he struggled to keep up with them. All he could do was block. There was little time for an attack, and he didn’t know if he had the experience to continue defending himself. Lingaria fed his energy through him and directed Jakobe’s movements. Jakobe could see and feel the future attacks around him and knew which way to move his sword to intercept the strikes.

  Eloise in the background continued to loose her crossbow, but they were approaching her and she didn’t have a sword. Jakobe needed to reach her before it was too late. He continued to let Lingaria guide his movements and continued to let the extra sense Lingaria gave him to predict where the attacks would be. But he also paid closer attention to the weapons.

  Each man had a different style of sword. The main attacker, the man with gold stripes on his shoulder plates, and most likely the captain of the small party, wielded a bastard sword. The rest of the company wielded a variety of arming swords and shields. With the longer, bastard sword, the captain primarily used two hands on his weapon and had a better focus than his allies. Jakobe had made many bastard swords and knew they were at their weakest a third of the way down from the tip. It was where most blacksmiths did their hammering to straighten the blade while red-hot, and especially with an older blade, the same location was used to hammer a bastard sword straight without heating it.

  Jakobe focused on that part of the blade in his defensive strikes, hitting it harder than he normally would in a defensive position. He continued, over and over, until finally—the blade snapped. The captain stepped backward, flabbergasted that his weapon had broken. Jakobe used the shock to make his move. He pushed forward, working underhanded uppercuts with his other single weapon opponents, who weren’t used to such strikes with their short swords and shields, and he headed straight for the captain where he slammed the glowing dragon sword into his shoulder.

  Jakobe then turned and ran. Eloise shrieked from the ground and as a warrior brought his weapon down to finish her off, Jakobe pushed him away before slamming his sword into the man’s arm, severing it from his body.

  Jakobe reached down and picked up the falchion that the man had been holding and handed it to Eloise as he helped her to her feet. She looked at the weapon curiously and nodded to him before turning around to block an incoming blow. A falchion wasn’t good for backhanded attacks as its blade was only sharp on one side, but it was plenty for Eloise who only had to defend herself.

  The problem was, how were the two of them going to defeat ten opponents. And Jakobe still had a sour taste in his mouth from the other day, and the fact they had killed three people. Though, it was Eloise who had killed them all. Jakobe had still yet to kill anyone, and yet, he thought that wouldn’t last much longer.

  A loud roar interrupted the furious battle going on around them. Jakobe turned away from his opponent to see a fierce beast approaching them.

  “What is—” Jakobe started.

  “A Toverak,” Eloise gasped.

  “No…”

  Jakobe had heard stories, but he’d never seen a Toverak in person. It was much more frightening than he even imagined. Its nose was squished like a pig, with two large holes, and warthog like horns protruding from its skull. The Toverak’s entire body was covered in scales, with clawed arms, and elongated clawed feet. A long, spiked tail swayed back and forth behind the beast. Long, sharp spikes extended from its backbone from the back of its neck to the tip of its tail. And the scariest part of all—was the fact that it blended into the surroundings—like a chameleon.

  He looked to the warriors. He’d already thought he’d underestimated them, but now he really did. They’d brought a Toverak with them? Eloise and he had no chance of surviving.

  Another roar came the opposite direction, and Jakobe turned to see a second Toverak approaching.

 
; “I’ve never seen them hunt in pairs before,” Eloise whispered, her voice shaken and clearly terrified.

  The first Toverak leapt into the air, tackling one of the warriors. Screams came from the man as he attempted to fight the beast off, but in the end, his attempt was futile.

  The captain approached Jakobe, his gaze moving from Jakobe and back to the beasts.

  Jakobe realized the Toveraks weren’t with the soldiers but were wild creatures. His eyes swept across the rest of the soldiers. Every one of them was backing away from the creatures. Terror clearly in their eyes.

  “We need to put our differences aside,” Jakobe said. “We need to focus on getting rid of the Toveraks.”

  Jakobe gulped. “Afterward… perhaps we can talk this out.”

  The captain grinned. “One step at a time. But for now, we have little choice if either of us wishes to survive.”

  Jakobe nodded. The captain stood by his side, and the whole party stood their ground, splitting who they faced. The first Toverak, or the second.

  Jakobe stood his ground as the Toverak jumped. It was as large as an ox and just as strong. He swung his blade low at the creature’s paw. The blade bounced off. Jakobe leapt into the air, dodging the massive jaw of the beast that chomped like an alligator at his head. Jakobe landed on the creature’s back, the spikes tearing into his flesh and causing him to bleed even more. He attempted to slice his sword down onto the back of the creature, but it was ineffective.

  The Toverak’s barbed tail smacked into Jakobe’s shoulder and he tumbled to the ground. Everything around him began to blur and he had a hard time keeping his vision straight. His entire body throbbed with pain, and even though he wanted to get to his feet, he couldn’t.

  Jakobe watched helplessly as the Toverak tore through man after man. He attempted to stand again, but he immediately collapsed back onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, he began crawling on the ground. The Toverak paid him no heed as he crawled. The beast was too preoccupied with the other soldiers around it who waved their swords furiously at the beast.