The Dragons Return

by J. J. Thompson

  The notebook was filled with symbols, pictograms, runic characters and drawings. All of them were apparently copied as faithfully as Daniel could manage. Each one or set was accompanied by notes written in Daniel’s handwriting. Some were long and detailed but most were short snippets; jotted notes by someone in a hurry.

  Simon looked at one small symbol that resembled a square with a stick figure inside it holding what appeared to be a lightning bolt. Daniel’s scribble said: ‘S. American, Inca, found over entrance to shrine. Could be important.’ Most of them were the same. Small hints and references that made little sense to Simon. He hoped that as he studied the book, the meanings would become clearer.

  He sighed and then put the book back in the box with the parchment. He closed the box, tucked it under his arm and stood up.

  “I think I’ll put this up in the study. The light’s better and I don’t really feel like plowing through all of Daniel’s notes right at this moment. It will take days to do a proper job of deciphering his book and after the day we’ve had…”

  He stretched and felt the muscles in his back loosen a bit.

  “Well, I have enough to think about at the moment.”

  “Good idea, master. I will go and see to the horses.” Kronk glanced out of the still open doorway. “It is getting late and they will need food and water. And perhaps they were scared when the dragon flew overhead earlier.”

  “The dragon!” Simon smacked his palm to his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that? Of course they would have been frightened by it, if they sensed it at all.” He hesitated. “Come to think of it, they didn't make a sound when that monster flew by. Perhaps it happened so fast that they had no chance to smell it. Or hear it. Or whatever.”

  “Perhaps, master. But I will make sure. I will be back in a short time.”

  The little elemental dropped off of the table and landed in the floor with a clatter. He fell over, jumped back up and then scurried across the room and out the door.

  Simon watched him leave and only grinned when he was sure that Kronk was out of the room. He went upstairs, crossed to the study and put the box on his work table. It sat there amidst his own notes on the few runes that he had discovered.

  The dreams that had revealed the dozen or so magical symbols that he had learned were a mystery too. Where had they come from? From these gods that the elf had mentioned? How did he even know how to pronounce them? Were they memories of a past life perhaps? Simon did not believe in that sort of thing. But then again, until his first spell had actually done something, he hadn’t really believed in magic either.

  He sat down at his desk across from the work table and stared at the pile of notes he had made. His “spell book” is what he called it. Yeah, some spell book. A feeble attempt to organize the symbols into some sort of cohesion. But the truth was that after three years, the only real success he had had with magic were the protective runes around the tower, the fire runes on his dagger, and Kronk. And even Kronk had been a fluke.

  He had not told the little guy that he had been summoned by accident. Simon had been fed up with cautiously combining the symbols and trying each group in turn. So he had simply strung together several at random and had shouted the incantation at the top of his lungs. And Kronk had appeared. There hadn’t even been a flash or a bang. He was just…there. Standing and staring at Simon. His first words had been “I am here to serve you, master.”

  So here I am, he thought. Not a wizard. Not even an apprentice. Just some schmuck playing around with magical symbols and incantations hoping to create a spell with them.

  “It’s ridiculous,” he muttered. “Am I just supposed to sit in this tower, day in and day out, fumbling along with all this magic stuff? Growing vegetables, talking to Kronk and watching the years tick by? What kind of life is that?”

  He stood up abruptly and slapped his hand on the table.

  “I can’t live like this forever. I have to do something with my life.” And then he hesitated. “But what?” he asked himself.

  He knew what he’d like to do. He’d like to strike back at the bastards that had caused all this. These evil gods that Ethmira had talked about. And their monstrous, murderous servants, the dragons. They had taken away his life, destroyed most of the human race, Changed him into…whatever he was. And they might have killed Daniel. And that was perhaps the worst thought of all.

  He sat down again with a sigh. Daniel was the brother he had never had. He shook his head forcefully. I will not live my life without at least making an attempt to find him. And, if he found that Daniel had been killed, then those responsible had better look to their lives.

  Chapter 6

  A few days had passed since the elf maiden had visited and Simon had seen the dragon. He had vowed to find Daniel or avenge his death. And now Simon had finally decided to experiment with the major runes that his friend had left him in the metal box.

  He asked Kronk if he remembered anything from the days when he had watched young wizards learning their craft. Anything that would perhaps keep him from making a disastrous error when he attempted to use the runes. Kronk did not remember much.

  “Well master, it is hard to say if what I saw can help you.” Kronk actually scratched his head, a mannerism that Simon realized was copied from himself when he was puzzled. “I don’t remember specific runes.”

  He was standing on Simon’s work table. The little guy walked over and looked down at the parchment with the four runes on it. “And especially not these ones. They are more powerful than the symbols used by apprentices at the time.” He looked up at Simon. “Be very careful, master. Magic can rebound on the caster if not used properly. I have seen it happen.”

  “You’ve seen it? What happened?” Simon asked eagerly.

  “A young wizard, perhaps fifteen years old, attempted to cast a Fireball spell. She was not…prepared. The spell, though a very basic one, was beyond her skill. I think she was trying to impress her teachers by learning a spell more advanced than her level of training.” He stopped and Simon saw him shudder. “It was very bad, master. The fireball rebounded on her. She was consumed in flames.”

  Simon felt a stab of fear. “Couldn’t they save her?”

  Kronk shook his head. “No, master. Magic does not work like that. One wizard cannot cancel the spell of another. And magical flame burns very hot. She was dead in seconds. There was very little left.”

  Simon sat back and thought about that. Until this minute, he hadn’t really thought that making a mistake while casting a spell could actually prove fatal. He glanced across the room at the far wall where several small pieces of stone had been chipped away when he had first cast a Magic Missile spell. Even that hadn’t scared him as much as it had irritated him. He shook his head at his own stupidity. Of course these spells were dangerous. How could he think otherwise?

  “Kronk, I’ve been very naïve haven’t I?”

  “Naïve? No, master. It is just innocence, I think.”

  He walked over to Simon and stared directly into his eyes. At this close range, Simon noticed for the first time that there were tiny sparks of red within Kronk’s eyes; as if a tiny furnace was burning deep inside the little elemental.

  “You really haven’t believed in magic, have you master?” Simon just shook his head. “You see, that is the main problem, I think. Magic is not just about runes and gestures, spells and incantations. It is also very much about belief. You must believe, not only in the magic, but in your skill and ability to use that magic. And up until now, master, you have not.” He turned away and looked across the room through the open window, as if looking back in time. “Perhaps that is why that wizard died, so long ago. She did not really have faith in her skill, in her ability to cast that Fireball spell. And her fear of failure killed her.”

  He was speaking quietly, as if to himself, but Simon knew what he meant.

  He remembered the man he had been in his previous life. When he had entered the iron man competitions, h
e had always been sure of his skill and strength. There had never been a doubt in his mind as to his own abilities. Indeed, he had reveled in his strength.

  Maybe, he thought, that was how he had to approach this whole magic business. With confidence and firmness. Not be cocky, just be sure that he had the power and the ability to actually use it.

  He rocked back on his chair, thinking it through. Could it be that simple? Was his hesitation and doubt about magic in general, and his supposed powers in particular, holding him back?

  Okay, so how was he to get over his fear of failure? His mind wandered back again to the tournaments he had entered. He had not won every one, but even when he had lost, it had not been because of lack of confidence. He tried to remember exactly what he had felt like, how he had walked, what he was thinking of just before a competition.

  He took a deep breath and tried to feel that old confidence. Okay, he thought, I think I’ve got it. Let’s do this before I change my mind.

  He rifled through the pile of papers on the table before him and found the symbols for the Magic Missile spell. He picked it up, along with the parchment that showed the major runes. Then he stood up, trying to move with assurance and made his way downstairs.

  He left the tower and looked around the clearing. On the far side, near the edge of the forest, there was an old stump that he had never been able to pull out of the ground. Good enough.

  He read the symbols of the spell and committed them to memory. Then he dropped the papers on the ground, stared at the stump and tried to feel like Simon, the confident strongman, not Simon the weak wizard.

  He focused his will and uttered the incantation. “Spedus Trifon Durnatol.” The power built up inside of him and he pointed at the stump and spoke the word of command. “Invectis!”

  He felt a jolt of energy run down his arm and out the end of his finger. Three dazzling white bolts of energy shot across the clearing and slammed into the old stump. The sound reminded him of the screech of a hawk. It was so high pitched that it was almost painful.

  Simon shook his arm several times. It had gone numb to the elbow.

  He walked quickly over to the stump and checked it for damage. He sighed and shook his head. There was a spot where the bark was slightly warm to the touch and he thought it looked a little paler than the surrounding wood but there was no real damage.

  “Wouldn’t do much damage to a real threat,” he muttered.

  “Well done, master!” yelled a voice from the tower.

  Simon looked over his shoulder and saw Kronk waving from the doorway.

  Kronk can always cheer me up, he thought and smiled slightly.

  “Not really,” he called. “It didn’t even mark the wood!”

  “But you were very steady during the spell, master. You did not hesitate and you kept your concentration. That is what’s most important.”

  Simon nodded, walked back to where his papers were lying on the grass and picked them up. I have an elemental cheering section, he thought. Next he’ll be trying to do the wave. The image made him chuckle and then he focused on the stump again.

  Okay, so I can cast that spell. That much I already knew. I just need to feel the confidence in my ability. Now let’s see if the major rune for air can help.

  Simon reasoned that since the spell used symbols of air then adding the major air rune might boost the spell’s power. Or so he hoped.

  He memorized the spell again. I just wish I could remember more that one spell at a time, he thought. But as soon as I cast one, it’s gone and I can’t even recall the symbols until I read the spell again. He looked over at Kronk, who was watching intently, and thought about asking him what he knew about memorizing spells. No, not now. Later. Let’s just try this before I lose my nerve.

  He shuffled the pages and looked at the major rune. In his mind, he added it to the end of the spell. Then he dropped the papers, pointed at the stump and took a deep breath.

  “Spedus Trifon Durnatol Phonatius.” He gritted his teeth. “Invectis!”

  Only the fact that he had locked his elbow kept his hand from slamming back into his face. The power build-up felt like the rumble of an earthquake and he quickly raised his other hand and braced his right arm. And then bolts of power, as bright as lightning flashes, screamed from his finger and slammed into the old wood. Three, five, finally eight bolts crashed into the front of the stump. The air smelled of ozone and, with the final bolt, the stump split neatly in two.

  Simon stared at the results of the spell with his mouth open in amazement. And then the pain from his arm finally broke through his shock and he almost screamed in agony.

  It felt as if a truck had run over his hand and his entire arm hung useless at his side. Kronk hurried down the steps and ran over to him.

  “Master, are you hurt?” He looked at Simon’s hand anxiously.

  Simon gingerly raised his right arm with his left hand and examined it. His hand was throbbing but the pain had subsided to an almost bearable beat of soreness. Strangely, there wasn’t a mark on it and the numbness of his arm was passing quickly.

  “I’m okay. I really wasn’t ready for that! I had no idea that the new runes could add that much power to a spell.”

  Kronk gently reached up and touched Simon’s hand. Then he smiled. “I am glad, master. And what you did with that spell! It was truly fantastic! You have just reached the next level of your training as a wizard.”

  Simon looked at him in surprise. “I have? Just like that? But I don’t know why the rune did that. Or how. It just…worked.”

  The little elemental shook his head. “It does not matter that you understand how a spell works, master. Only that it does. And that you can control it, as you just did.”

  “Well, thanks Kronk. If you’re right, then the other runes should boost the power of the spells in each of their elements.” Simon felt a surge of excitement. “And that means that maybe now they will be of some real use. Kronk! This could open up a whole bunch of new possibilities.” Then he looked as his still aching hand. “But I think a bit of caution is called for here. I wouldn’t want to rush in too quickly and do some permanent damage.”

  “Wise, master. Do not try to run before you are an expert in walking.”

  Simon just grinned and headed back into the tower.

  The next day, Simon carefully copied out the few spells he knew and added the major rune for each to the end of them. When he came across the spell that had summoned Kronk, he hesitated and just stared at it for a while.

  It was almost a scrawl across the paper, since he had written it down right after Kronk had appeared. He wasn’t sure that the spell was actually right, because he didn’t know if he had remembered which symbols he had cast. The way he had simply mixed together symbols to cast the spell was, in retrospect, inexcusable. He knew now that the spell could easily have misfired and rebounded on him. He did not want to think of the consequences of that. Just as long as he never did anything so idiotic again!

  He looked at the spell again. Was it right? Then he realized that maybe Kronk would know.

  “Kronk!” he yelled. Nothing. Maybe he’s out in the garden. Simon knew that the little guy loved to work in the earth. Considering that he was an earth elemental, that wasn’t surprising. Simon also had a feeling that it was Kronk, not himself, who was responsible for the success of his vegetable patch. Somehow he didn’t think that the Change had given him a green thumb.

  He shrugged. As long as the plants grew and gave him not only food, but something to barter with, Simon didn’t care. And if Kronk wanted to keep his special touch with plants to himself, then that was okay too.

  He got up, went downstairs and out into the early morning sunlight. It had rained overnight, but now the sky was clear and the deep blue of late spring. The air smelled damp and clean and Simon stopped a moment to just breathe deeply and enjoy it. Then he walked around the tower toward the garden at the back.

  As he approached the rows of tomato plants, bean
stalks tied to small sticks and carrots tops poking through the soil, he stopped to watch the horses racing along the beach.

  The grass grew almost to the water and Simon had fenced in an area several hundred yards wide along the beach and back up to the tower and the horse’s small stable. He watched the three of them run and play, kicking at the air and snorting in the cool morning sun. He smiled, happy that they got along so well. No one from the old days would recognize them now, of course.

  Tammy was dappled like a mixture of sunlight and shadow, making her hard to focus on even in the middle of the open field. Sunshine actually looked nothing like the almost yellow palomino she used to be. Now she was striped from head to hoof in alternating bands of white, black and red. Almost looks like a barber pole, he thought. And Chief. Well, Chief was now truly a figure out of a fantasy. He had always been a deep charcoal black. But his hooves had split and the two toes on each foot were clawed. His mane and tail had been replaced by thorny spikes. And above each eye had grown a horn, a foot long and razor sharp.

  Simon stared at the stallion. He didn’t look like a unicorn. Not at all. But he did look otherworldly and dangerous. But the change hadn’t affected any of their personalities or temperaments. The mares were still perky and affectionate and Chief, even though he pretended to be aloof and proud at times, as befitted a stallion, would almost melt with pleasure when Simon scratched him under his chin.

  The wizard grinned at the thought. Then he remembered why he was there and looked around for Kronk. There was no sign of him in the garden, but Simon heard some banging and scraping coming from the stable and went in to see what was going on.

  Kronk was arranging the hay in each of the stalls, shaking it out and spreading it evenly. He glanced up as Simon walked in, waved quickly and patted down one final spot. Then he walked over to Simon and looked up.

  “Can I help you, master?”

  “You know, these horses have never been so well looked after. You really are an amazing help to me.”