by Jada Fisher
As they got higher, Bishta went from being drenched in sweat and exhausted from heat to shivering from the cold air and wind. She feared she’d catch her death before she reached the top. But before that happened, they passed through the low clouds near the summit, washing a lot of the grime from her, and emerged into clean, open air, with golden-pink skies above.
The sage had to catch her breath. Sitting atop the peak was a shimmering building made of polished limestone and small mosaics interlaid with latticework. Expert craftsmanship, the likes of which only high dragons could achieve. Or human slave labor, but that was a thought for another time. Most high dragons were wise and more or less benevolent.
Runa-Val stopped on the large, tiled landing leading to two truly massive bronze doors that had images of dragon myths and symbols pressed into them. Bishta slid off the drakon’s neck and leaned on her staff. She shivered as a strong wind tore into her. Runa-Val saw this and did her best to shield her from the worst of the wind.
“Our high one, Gengyan’Nun, is ahead. He’s been asleep for weeks now, but knowing him, he will have awoken at your arrival. A sage entering his valley would not go unnoticed by him.”
Bishta nodded. She was unsure if she should be reassured by that. Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath, gripped her staff tight, and walked forward. Runa-Val spoke some words in that strange dialect of theirs and the doors opened inward. She looked back to Bishta and nodded. I guess that means it’s safe to enter.
With a gulp, the sage willed her legs to move. They were wobbly at first, but she willed strength into them. She needed to be at her best in front of a high dragon. They were the highest forms of life on this earth, as much as humans would argue otherwise.
Beyond the doors, the mountain was carved into a grand hall, the ceiling supported by dozens of what appeared to be marble columns. Sconces of pale fire blazed on every one, making the room just bright enough to see. The space was otherwise empty, except for the giant dragon perched on a raised dais at the far end.
Gengyan’Nun was like most high dragons: bigger than even the largest ships, feet the size of houses, teeth the size of whole people, wings that would block out the sun. This one had deep blue scales that glowed in the torchlight. A mane of white hair circled his head, thick and lustrous. And his eyes were wide open and staring right at her. Large and yellow and positively glowing.
“Bishta the Black, Sage of the Dark, welcome to my valley,” he said, his words so deep and bone-rattling that it almost hurt. It felt like each one dug into her mind. High dragons spoke as humans do, but their speech was so powerful that it often felt like they were speaking into your mind directly.
The sage bowed, even though it made her uncomfortable. “It is an honor to meet you, High One.”
“I felt your presence as soon as you came through the portal. I wondered if you’d make your way to me. And so you have.”
Bishta smiled. Always impressive were the high dragons’ senses.
“I seek food, water, and shelter, Great One, and, ultimately, safe passage to the Forgotten Continent.”
Gengyan’Nun stared at her for a long while, each breath a rumble that made gooseflesh roll down her arms. The way the high dragon stared almost made her think he was reading her thoughts, trying to discern her intentions, her motives for going to the Forgotten Continent. Thankfully, dragons didn’t have that ability, even the high ones who could wield magic as freely as she could. That would’ve been bad because no doubt, he would have disapproved of her quest.
Finally, he spoke again. “That can be arranged. It would be my pleasure to assist a sage. I shall fly you there myself on the morrow.”
Bishta’s shoulders sagged as she let out a breath. “You have my gratitude, Great One.”
Gengyan’Nun inclined his massive head. “Runa-Val, please see to our guest’s needs. We do not get ones such as her often.”
Her escort bowed beside her. “Yes, Yalla’shu, it will be done.” Bishta didn’t know that word, but it must have been a dragon title of some sort.
From there, Bishta was led away from the great dragon. The air still felt like it was charged with primal power even as she descended the mountain with her new drakon friend. She smiled.
Oh, what it would be like to be a dragon.
She’d never find out, but tomorrow, it would hardly matter.
9
Bishta
Bishta stayed the night in Runa-Val’s personal cave. It was a simple place, with a few fur rugs and tapestries and a hearth to cook meals. Of course, everything was bigger since they were a drakon. Regardless, Bishta was given food and water, cooked meat and some vegetables that Runa had found. They were ash yams, which grew in volcanic soil. Very sweet and safe for humans.
She was also able to bathe in an underground spring within the mountain that the drakons used sometimes to clean themselves. It was a blessing to be able to relax like this. It had been weeks since she’d bathed and truly felt at ease. They didn’t have much in the way of beds, but Bishta didn’t mind curling up on the rugs with Runa and sleeping. She found it was one of the most peaceful sleeps she’d had in decades.
The next morning, she ate another meal of meat and vegetables along with water. Drakons ate very simple meals. They didn’t cook elaborate feasts like humans did. They saw no need for it. Meat was meat. Once she was fed, rested, and clean, she grabbed her staff and bowed to her host.
“I thank you for your hospitality.”
Runa-Val inclined her head, eyes glinting. “It was my pleasure, Madam Sage. I hope you find whatever it is you seek in the Forgotten Continent.”
“So do I.”
With that, Bishta left her drakon friend and made the climb once again to the summit where Gengyan’Nun was waiting. This time, she had the strength to make the ascent, though she was already halfway up the slopes, so it wasn’t too difficult. Even so, when she arrived at the peak, she was out a breath, beads of sweat dappling her forehead.
The doors were already open when she arrived. When she entered, she found the high one communing with three other dragons, though none of them were high ones like himself. All bigger than drakons, they still seemed tiny next to the great one. Two had scales like polished amethyst and thin wings. The other had a slim, slick serpentine body without any limbs. But it had two sets of leathery wings.
Their tones seemed argumentative, though Bishta couldn’t make out the words, not before they turned to her as she walked in. Their eyes scanned her long and menacingly, as any apex predator would. Of course, in the presence of a high one, none of them dared say or do anything out of place.
Gengyan’Nun sighed and stood. “We are done here. I have business to attend to with my guest.”
The three dragons didn’t seem to like that, but they didn’t argue. They slinked out, teeth bared for Bishta to see. If she were a regular human girl, she may have been terrified, but now? Not so much.
Once they were gone, she turned her attention to the high one and bowed her head. “Good morning.”
He nodded. “I trust your stay was to your liking, Sage?”
“It was perfect, thank you,” she replied with a smile.
“Then we must be off. No time to waste.”
The Great One offered her his hand. With a gulp, she climbed up his claws and into his palm before he tossed her gently over his shoulder at the base of his mane.
“The trip will be cold, windy, and bumpy. I suggest you hold tight.”
She nodded. Gengyan’Nun walked forward, each step slow, deliberate, and booming. Once they were through the doors and out into the morning air, he unfurled his wings in a mighty whoosh. He flapped them once, twice, three times, each beat like a clap of thunder, each one stirring a storm. Then, before Bishta could adequately prepare herself, he shot into the air with a power and grace she could never have imagined. Her heart dropped into her stomach as her breath hitched in her throat.
She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t manage i
t. It was hard for her to decide if it was from fear or excitement.
There were memories within her of flying, from past sages who soared with dragons and spirits, but never had Bishta experienced it herself. It was one thing to remember an experience and another to live it. And this… This feeling was thrilling.
The wind whipped around her, loud as a dragon’s roar. The high one was right, it was blistering cold. But at the same time, it was thrilling, and she wanted to scream and smile and throw her hands out wide. That would be unwise, though. It was all she could do to hold on tight to Gengyan’Nun’s white locks.
They soared over mountains and fields and forests of golden leaves. There was a shimmering lake that looked like a mirror to the heavens, where long and slender water dragons swam and frolicked, blue-green scales shining in the morning light. They didn’t pass any of the dragon strongholds, but she could see immense castles and towns in the distance, with small dragons fluttering around them like flies. It was all so breathtaking and, if not for her quest, she would have loved to stay up there forever.
Oh, to be a dragon, she thought again. But alas, that was something she couldn’t do.
After a few hours of silent flight, the vast lands of Ragvarral gave way to the vast, churning gray waters of the Eternal Sea. It was the largest body of water in the world, home to the Land of Dragons and the Ten Thousand Islands and other exotic lands. Beneath the sea’s surface, the merkind empire flourished, though they very, very rarely interacted with humans. Only Brokar the Blue, Sage of the Sea, ever really dealt with them.
As they glided over the water and the sun shone at its apex, the cool winds gave way to warmth and Bishta was able to bask in the glow of this beautiful world. This was what she wanted to preserve—this perfection, this bliss—but spirits and humans and their never-ending struggle for dominance… That would destroy everything. Neither knew their place.
Sensing her mood, Gengyan’Nun looked back at her. “How are you holding up back there, Sage?”
She smiled. “I’m fantastic. Thank you.”
He harrumphed. “We should arrive in the Forgotten Continent in a few hour cycles. Is there anywhere you would like me to drop you?”
Bishta did have a place in mind, but she didn’t know if it would raise suspicion with the high dragon. She was a sage, so her words were trusted and respected, but her destination was a very suspicious place to say the least.
She decided she should tell him. Why make herself walk the extra miles when she didn’t have to? “I need to get to the Fields of Despair.”
That was met by a heavy silence. The high dragon looked back at her, his large eyes seemingly peering into her soul, trying to discern the truth. He huffed, trace amounts of smoke flowing from his nostrils then disappearing in a blink from the winds and speed they were traveling.
“What business do you have there?” he asked.
Talking back rudely as she’d done with Jel-Gur would get her nowhere here, but still, she had to stand her ground. High dragon or no, she would reach her destination.
“My reasons are my own,” she replied sternly, heart pounding. “I trust you’ll forgive me, but I can’t go around sharing sagely secrets. Just know that I have important matters pertaining to my duties at the fields.”
It took a long time for the Great One to respond, though he kept one large eye on her the entire time. Finally, he turned his head to look forward. “Very well, I shall get you there.”
The sage sighed with relief. She was sure that if any other human had asked to be flown to the Fields of Despair, the high dragon would have refused outright, if not torched them for even suggesting the chore. But she was a sage, and when she spoke, people listened. Of course, if she had some of the spells the Sage of the Light had, some that included limited flight, she wouldn’t even need to rely on transportation. But alas, every sage had their own boundaries and rules for their magic. It would be far too dangerous for all of them to do everything.
Bishta aimed to prove why that was true.
They settled back into silence for the remainder of the trip. Though there were things she wanted to ask the high dragon—as he was probably over a thousand years old and wiser beyond even those ancient years—she decided to focus on the trials to come. What she had to do would be draining, and she’d rather have her mind clear.
It wasn’t long before she spotted the Forgotten Continent on the horizon. Just a thin gray line, flat and desolate. As they got closer, the landscape didn’t improve. The sea soon gave way to black sands and gray soil, a land seemingly covered in ash from a truly ancient cataclysm. It was an old land, a land of forgotten and forbidden knowledge, demons and monsters and false gods. Not a place that even high dragons would go to lightly.
Gengyan’Nun tensed beneath her, no doubt as nervous about this place as she was.
The Forgotten Continent seemed to stretch on forever, just ashy plains and black hills and shallow mountains. The occasional ruins dotted the surface, and more than once, Bishta saw billowing, shadowy creatures roaming aimlessly below. There was no telling what form of monsters were down there. It was the most dangerous place on this earth, even for a sage.
Finally, they arrived at their destination—the Fields of Despair.
It appeared to be a flat plain, miles across in all directions. Small, broken tombstones dotted the surface by the thousands, some in orderly rows, others in odd clusters, some randomly placed without any organization whatsoever. Some were simply wooden markers, while others were formerly ornate and nice. Some simple stone, some made of polished obsidian. Who laid beneath or where they came from or what killed them was a mystery, one that Bishta was desperate to learn someday, but not yet.
Scattered around the fields were large circles of standing stones, perfectly carved and placed symmetrically. No doubt magic played a role in how they came to be. Humans were far too clumsy for such precision.
Her ride landed next to one of these circles. Immediately, the ancient magics of the place weighed heavily on them, thick in the air. Her skin tingled, gooseflesh riddling her body all over. Her hairs stood on end. This was a dark place.
“Here we are,” said the high dragon, his voice booming even in such an open space.
“Here we are,” Bishta echoed. She wrapped her cloak around her pale arms and unslung her staff, which she’d had strapped to her back while they flew. One foot in front of the other, she took a few short steps. Her toes dug into the loose soil, and it was cool to the touch. There was no wind, and the sun hid behind the clouds. She wondered if the sun ever truly shined in this place.
It was time to do what she needed to do.
She turned to the great one and bowed. “I am truly grateful for your help and hospitality, oh Great One.”
Gengyan’Nun closed his eyes and lowered his head. She placed a hand on his immense snout. When he opened his eyes and stood at his full height, he asked, “Do you not wish for me to give you a ride back to the mainland?”
She shook her head. “I’ll make my own way back. There’s a portal not too far away. Frankly, I’m not sure where it will take me, but it will be far from here.”
I sense it, yes. Well, may your endeavors be successful, Madam Sage.
The Sage of the Dark smiled bright, wide, and genuine. “And you too.”
With that, Gengyan’Nun unfurled his mighty wings and ascended toward the heavens and flew back to his homeland. She truly did wish him the best. Bishta had nothing but the deepest respect for dragonkind.
She brought her attention back to the stone circle. With a deep breath, she walked into it. The ground there was hard dirt with rings of ancient runes carved into the surface and into the stone pillars surrounding it. At the center was a raised dais with a fount in the middle.
Bishta walked up the dais and to the fount. She recalled the spell and the steps she’d read about in the ancient library. Treatises on the Dark, Spirits, and the Other Planes had been a very helpful read. She rummaged through
her pack and reread her notes, refreshing her mind one last time before she began. A ritual like this was not something one wanted to get wrong.
Arms shaking, she reached down and retrieved the small knife she kept strapped to her hip in case of emergencies, something she’d rarely used. She stood before the fount and plunged the knife into her right arm. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying out from the pain. It was hard and blinding and terrible, but a price had to be paid. She let blood flow into the fount until it was full, until her arm was numb and cold. Part of the ritual was to weaken and humble the user. It wasn’t a feeling that she enjoyed, but it was a feeling that was necessary.
Not bothering to bandage the wound yet, she began to recite the words that would summon servants most deadly and deviant. Bishta was making a dangerous contract and wouldn’t be satisfied unless it was fulfilled. She chanted.
“Sibiu vurch le concon rangora.”
The foreign, ancient words rolled off her tongue, the sounds of them singing in her ears and filling the air. She trembled and could feel the raw, deadly power of the words. She kept reciting and chanting, ignoring the pain in her arm. The blood bubbled and boiled in the fount, steam rising into the dry air.
The blood turned black and overflowed. It coalesced, becoming a thick paste. Then, it began to warp and grow. Bishta watched with curiosity as the dark goop that had once been her blood expanded until it resembled a large, monstrous body. That was exactly what it was. After a minute, the transformation was complete, and a terrible demon stood before her.
The demon towered over the sage. It was as tall as the stone pillars and as broad as a house. Its body was black as night and rippled with muscle. It bared its teeth, and four rows of daggers gleamed. Its eyes were white, and the pupils were so small that they were barely discernible.
