Dragon Scepter

by Angelique Anderson

  Ugiotti, The Eternal, Fourth Dragon Elder, Fifth Age of Verdil

  Hekla opened the door. After taking a deep breath, she began walking inside. Jetevius followed her from behind. He let her lead, but he was there to remind her that she was not alone. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, as if prepared to use it. Hekla hoped that would not be the case.

  King Renault sat atop his throne. The room was extravagant. It was even more gaudy than before. Diamonds and rubies littered the floor. The throne was made of pure gold encrusted with hundreds of different gems. And at the top sat King Renault, his chin held high as he looked down his arrogant nose.

  “Hekla,” King Renault said, “I trust you’ve returned with news of the Tellurian king’s death? Please, tell me that King Armand is dead.”

  Hekla stopped walking forward. She stumbled as she considered his words. It wasn’t the words themselves that had her on edge, but the tone in which they were spoken. She couldn’t fathom how easily he casted aside the life of another being.

  “No, your highness,” Hekla said.

  “No?” King Renault asked. “Surely you would not show yourself in my presence if you have failed.”

  “I have not failed,” Hekla said.

  “Have not failed?” King Renault snarled through clenched teeth. His pale green skin growing darker by the second with rage. “I told you to not show your face unless you’ve killed the Tellurian king. Tell me, why have you disobeyed orders?”

  “The king was being controlled—”

  “All the more reason to kill him,” King Renault snapped.

  “The things he was doing—fighting you—conquering lands. It was not him.”

  “I do not care if it was him or a blasted shark. I want him dead.”

  Hekla gulped. She had to finish, but it was hard as he interrupted every word she spoke. “The king was being controlled by a dark wizard.”

  “All I want to hear is that the king is dead. If he is not, then you need to leave and only return when he is no more.”

  “I will not kill him,” Hekla snapped.

  “Excuse me?”

  “The wizard controlling him has been killed.”

  “What does that mean to me?”

  “The wizard was who pushed for war. King Armand does not wish for conflict. He desires peace.”

  “He desires my gold!” King Renault snapped.

  “Gold?” Hekla asked.

  “He cannot have it! It’s mine!”

  “King Armand has not spoken of gold. All he desires is peace.”

  “Lies,” King Renault hissed. “He will not have it. We must slit his throat.”

  “We must stop this war between Aequoris, Caelestis, and Telluris. The three kingdoms have lived in peace for hundreds of years.”

  “They will not have my treasure,” King Renault snapped.

  Hekla stomped her foot. “They don’t want your treasure.”

  King Renault’s eyes gleamed a fierce green. “I want theirs.”

  “What?” Hekla asked.

  “I need it. I must have it.”

  “Must have what?” Hekla asked.

  “Their treasure. It all belongs to me. You must kill the kings and bring me their riches.”

  “To what purpose?” Hekla asked.

  “It is mine. All the treasure is mine.”

  “What is your obsession with treasure?” Hekla asked. One eyebrow raised slightly, as something in her gut told her things were not as they seemed.

  She hadn’t planned on being so blunt with the king, but he was talking in circles, and all he seemed to care about was treasure. Hekla remembered when she stumbled upon one of his rooms full to the brim of treasure. The room had more gems and gold than any single kingdom ought to, and Hekla didn’t doubt that King Renault had more.

  “It belongs to me!” King Renault shouted.

  “What good is treasure if it is not used?” Hekla demanded. She had to get deeper, to figure out why the greed consumed him.

  The king’s eyes bulged as he glared at her.

  “I’ve seen one of your treasury rooms. It sits in piles and does nothing. What good is treasure if there is no way to spend it? If you have all the treasure and there is nothing to trade it for, what good is it?”

  “You’ve seen it? You want my treasure too? You cannot have it, you traitorous wretch.” His face turned scarlet with anger, upper lip turned in a slight snarl.

  “King Renault,” Jetevius growled as he stepped next to Hekla. “I assure you, Hekla wants nothing to do with your treasure. I don’t know what madness holds you, my king, but this has got to stop. Please, pull through this madness.”

  The king paused as he looked from Hekla to Jetevius. A long moment of silence passed before the king began to cackle. The laughs sounded forced at first, but then they grew until the sound was deafening inside the chamber.

  “Foolish, you two are. You cannot overthrow me. I am the king. You dare call me mad? It is you two who are mad. Who dares to question the king?”

  “What happened to your wife?” Hekla asked.

  King Renault’s black eyes began to recess. They turned back to their normal hue. Hekla hadn’t noticed that they’d blackened, but it was the same as King Armand’s.

  Speltus, he’s being controlled by a dark wizard as well.

  He can’t be, Speltus said, there wasn’t supposed to be one dark wizard, let alone two. There’s no way the Unseen Ones would have missed that.

  “My wife?” he asked.

  “Yes, the woman you murdered. What did she do? Did she begin to ask questions?” Hekla asked.

  His teeth clenched. “You dare accuse me of killing my wife? How dare you!”

  “Admit it. You had her killed!” Hekla snapped.

  She hadn’t planned on antagonizing him, but her patience was wearing thin. Hekla hated to admit it, but she believed Ecthelion was right. There was no helping this man. But—his eyes. He was being controlled—he had to be.

  King Renault leapt off of his throne and quicker than Hekla could react, he was in front of her with a dagger. Before she should turn, he thrust the dagger forward and lodged it into her side. She shrieked out in pain as she stepped backward. He’d penetrated her magical bubble that her scepter and Speltus made and dug a dagger into her side.

  Jetevius jumped forward and pushed the king out of the way. King Renault unsheathed his sword and held it in front of him.

  “Guards!” King Renault yelled.

  Ten guards appeared inside of the room. They all wielded swords as they approached Hekla and Jetevius. Hekla began focusing her magic and using blasts of wind to push the guards aside. Her energy was swiftly weakening. She didn’t have the fortitude to continue on. Jetevius became entwined in a battle against three opponents.

  Hekla stepped back and rushed to the rear exit of the king’s chamber. It was an exit Ecthelion had told them about. Hekla hoped to not have to use it, but King Renault left her with little other choice. She needed to escape, and she needed to heal her wound.

  “Stop her!” King Renault yelled as he saw her dash to the door.

  Hekla stopped at the door as Jetevius followed her, blocking strikes all the while. She glared at the king.

  “You’d better not show your face again unless both the Tellurian and Caelestan king are dead,” King Renault shouted.

  Hekla clenched her eyes tight, hiding the tears that threatened to fall down her face. She was saddened for the king. Her path was clear now. She would have to kill him. Unless she miraculously found what caused his madness, time was running out.

  She took a deep breath, then stepped fully through the door with Jetevius behind her. After they were through, she used her magic to collapse the door, blocking the exit from the Aequoran guards.

  Jetevius panted. “What do we do now?”

  “Run,” Hekla said.

  14

  Astrid

  What is on the surface is always circumstantial, for it is the darkness in
a man’s heart that leads the way. Uncover it, and you will uncover their true intentions. It is this hidden place where one finds its weakest link. Uncover it, bring it to light, and you will restore the man or woman who contains it. Leave it hidden, and it will fester and spread like a deathly plague through the mind and soul of the body.

  Nuldronian, The Protector, Fifth Dragon Elder, Sixth Age of Verdil

  As Astrid and Cayden parted ways with Quimby and the other Caelestans, a tremble found itself all through Astrid’s body as nervousness overcame her, causing her to have an edge to her step. The castle wasn’t far off, though it felt miles away, and she wanted to confront the king before she lost her nerve. Each movement forward became harder and harder. A pain ached at her heart with each step. Was Quimby right? Were the others correct? Was the King unsavable? Could he not be redeemed? She nearly stopped in her tracks. No, she told herself. Everyone deserved a chance of redemption. Even one with a heart as dark as his. She had to at least try.

  “Astrid,” Cayden struggled to keep up with her, his hand grabbing hers, he pulled her to a stop. “We don’t have to do this, you know. You’re right about us rushing to certain death. If you don’t want that, let’s just go.”

  She cast off his hand and spun around on her heel. He could not do this to her. Not when she was having her own doubts. Astrid hoped that he would have her back, and it had appeared he had only moments ago. Her nose wrinkled as she looked at him.

  “To leave, without trying to convince the king that peace can be achieved would only label me a coward. I have not given up yet, and I don’t plan on doing so now.” Her eyes squinted slightly in anger, and she folded her arms across her chest.

  “That’s not what I meant… I just don’t want you to die,” he admitted.

  “And I understand that, but if that is my purpose then it must be so.” Truth be told, she didn’t want to die either, but she couldn’t allow the Caelestans to suffer anymore. She had vowed to herself, that she would protect them. They who she had deemed her people. They depended on her, and if he didn’t understand that, then maybe he was as much of an outsider as Quimby had said.

  “I know the thoughts in your head, Astrid. I didn’t imply that we don’t meet with the king, I just meant.” He sighed. “Sometimes it is better to be safe.”

  His stance changed and it confused her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied him. Had he not been willing to stand by her side and confront the King only moments ago? What had changed?

  “Cayden, you just pledged to stand with me, and now you hesitate? Why?” she demanded.

  One hand reached up to rub the back of his neck, and he looked down at the ground sheepishly.

  “I was just thinking about what that woman said, and it made me worried for your life. That’s all. Forgive me for questioning your decision. I know that it is on your shoulders to help protect these people, and I will stand with you. Always. I just lost my nerve momentarily.” His foot shuffled on the ground, kicking small rocks into the distance as he looked back up to her, eyes worried as they looked slightly downcast, but sincere. Astrid couldn’t fault him for being concerned, she was too.

  Inside, her stomach somersaulted, as she fought back feelings she had never felt before, for a man she barely knew. If he was killed in a fit of rage by the king who was deemed to be unreliable and unpredictable, Cayden’s blood would be on her hands. She would have no one else to blame--not even the king who may be at fault. Astrid was taking a chance. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes as the light of evening passed over them. When she spoke, she was calm, assured.

  “Friend who was once my enemy, Stranger who is now my friend,” she addressed him. “I understand where you are coming from, and even as I stand here, I know I would be lying to you and myself to say that I am not almost crippled with fear at the thought of entering that throne room with you by my side. If something were to happen to you, I would not be able to live with myself.”

  He stepped closer to her until they were just a few inches apart, his hand reached up to hold her cheek. “You cannot blame yourself for anything bad that happens in there, whatever the king chooses to do to either of us, it will be of his own volition. Do not place his actions on your shoulders, whatever they may be.”

  The intensity of the eye contact between them was too much, and she found herself glancing away. She couldn’t think over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Their closeness was almost too much.

  “Hey,” he whispered, drawing her attention back to him. “I mean it,” he pleaded. “Whatever happens in there, if he kills me or harms me in some way, you cannot take that on yourself.” He stepped forward a bit more, and he softly kissed her forehead. “I would never blame you for someone else’s actions, do the same for yourself.”

  She nodded her head, unable to speak for the gathering lump in her throat at his kind eyes, and gentle touch. Perhaps he had lied to her before, about his past. Perhaps she didn’t know everything there was to know about him, but he was honorable. Actions always spoke louder than words.

  “Shall we?”

  She nodded again, and with that they headed toward the castle once more. Walking in silence as they approached the large oak wood doors, where two Caelestan guards stood armed from head to foot. Their heads held high as Cayden and Astrid approached.

  “Land-walker, stranger. What business do you have at the palace?” The guard to the left asked, looking down his nose disapprovingly.

  “Come on boys, are we really doing this?”

  The guard on the right, laughed heartily, and readily opened the doors for them to enter.

  “All right, it’s your funeral,” he said, continuing to laugh as they walked the hallway to the throne room.

  “Are you ready for this?” Cayden asked, as the doors shut behind them.

  Astrid nodded her head. “Guess I have to be, right?” She offered him a playful wink, emanating more confidence than she felt in that moment. As they approached the throne room, and the familiar doors swung open, they stepped forward, certain that whatever was about to happen would not end well, for either of them.

  “So, the warrior female has returned with a friend, I see?” The king’s voice rang out across the oversized room, as he leaned his chin on one hand, unmoving as they came closer to him.

  Astrid bowed as she entered, offering her respects, knowing that she must tread carefully. “Your majesty, it is an honor to be back in your presence.”

  Cayden bowed as well. “Pleasure to meet you, your majesty.”

  The king eyed Cayden suspiciously, setting Astrid’s nerves on edge.

  “Your majesty, I’ve returned to offer my services to the kingdom of Caelestis. I consider this, the sky kingdom, my home. Your people are my people.”

  “Have you killed the Tellurian King?” he asked her, standing to his feet, scepter in hand.

  Astrid remained silent, knowing that her answer could spur him to anger. She cast a glance at Cayden, who seemed unmoved by the king’s question. When he caught her eye, he nodded, urging her to respond honestly.

  “Your majesty,” she began, just as Aronus interrupted her thoughts.

  Astrid, be very careful how you phrase your words. That woman was not exaggerating when she spoke of his anger. The Tellurian King took his son, his first priority is revenge. Remember that above all else. Astrid nodded her response, not caring if the king saw. The gentle pressure of the bow against her back reminded her that her best line of defense was just a couple flicks of the wrist away.

  She would fight him, and kill him, if it came to that. There was no way that the Caelestan king would have the final say.

  “Your majesty, with all due respect, there are a great many things that occurred on the land that no one was aware of. Things that could have altered the course of our future. The Tellurian king himself, was controlled by magic. A magic so dark that it rotted his soul. It ate away at him from the inside out, until there was nothing left but the evil void that fille
d him. It controlled his thoughts, his actions, his movements. He was not himself.”

  The kings voice was like ice as he took a step forward. “And now? What of the king now?”

  “Well,” she said cautiously. “The wizard who had the magic that controlled him has been defeated, and the darkness that existed there is gone. I have seen it with my own eyes, he is a changed man who only wishes for peace to be restored.”

  He took several heavier steps toward her.

  “Peace?” he snarled. Menace tinged the word, and Astrid cringed. “Peace?” he said again, causing them to step back. “There can be no peace, female. That desire for peace was destroyed when he had his men intrude into my kingdom and kidnap my son. He had his life marked from the moment he sent my son’s head back to me. There will never be peace, and one day soon, everything that he has will be mine. Do you understand? I will take it all!” He let out the last sentence with a roar of anger that reverberated throughout the throne room.

  Astrid was never one to feel fear, and truly she didn’t feel it now. The heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that there was more to this, more than she could possibly know. Things that she hadn’t begun to fathom, much like the darkness in the Tellurian king’s eyes. There was something at work here, something that could not be seen with an outsider’s perspective, something the king hadn’t confessed to anyone.

  Did she dare push him, to discover the secrets he did not wish to express? If she did, to what end would it all come? One glance to Cayden told her she couldn’t push too far. He had become too important to her.

  “Your majesty, I understand the loss of your son is devastating. I can’t even begin to fathom. What if he was here? Would you still wish death for the Tellurians, for its king? Would he want that when peace can be achieved?”