The Nemedian Trilogy: Book 02 - The Dragon's Cup

by Jake Adler

  “What do you suggest that we do?” Ethan asked as he used his sleeve to wipe away some soot from his face.

  “We won’t get far running away now, I suggest that we just proceed in the same direction that the creature has just taken,” replied the Grand Mage as he struck up a rapid pace, his long legs moving him swiftly forward. After only a moment of brief hesitation, the others followed.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Skydda had remained true to her word and released the High Dragon from his entombment. With a wave of her beautiful arms, the dark, ominous looking statue that held the body and soul of Halaxan, became an orb of blue-white light that rapidly expanded in size, then flashed briefly as brightly as a star before revealing the living, breathing golden dragon that now stood before the companions. Smoke plumed out of the High Dragon’s nostrils as Axcil swiftly explained to Halaxan the recent turn of events regarding the war for the kingdom of Nemedia. The High Dragon’s initial expression of joy at being released from his entombment was quickly replaced, first with an expression of disbelief, then one of anger.

  “I will do no such thing!” Halaxan roared as his golden scales quivered with rage, “if the savages were unhappy with the way that I treated them, that’s no excuse for them to side with the Demons!”

  Axcil’s expression turned dark, “You gave them no choice,” he said through gritted teeth, “they had to try to stop the allies from prematurely closing the ‘second seal’ to prevent the apocalypse.”

  The High Dragon drummed his talons angrily against a flat, grey rock, “To ask me, the leader of all the Akrullin, to apologise to that group of savages is preposterous,” he snorted, “I simply won’t do it.”

  “You will do it or I will kill you,” Skydda interjected as she moved a threatening step towards him. Although her words were spoken softly, her body began to glow, lighting up the tattoos and jewels upon her body so that they became iridescent.

  The High Dragon blinked at her in alarm as a look of fear suddenly crossed his face, “I know what you are,” his eyes flickered in defeat back towards Axcil, “very well, I shall do what you ask.”

  “Thank you old friend,” Axcil smiled at him weakly, “I know that this is difficult for you, but it will help in restoring peace with the Northern Clans.”

  Halaxan glared at the half-Orc that he had known for many years, “You are no longer a friend of mine. I ask that you return my pendant of friendship that I gave you.”

  The half–Orc stared at him as if he had been physically struck. Seconds passed as Axcil came to the realisation of how little the High Dragon must really think of him to request such a thing. Halaxan had also referred to the Northern Clans as savages whose blood that Axcil shared. The High Dragon must have known how hurtful saying such a thing would have been for him to hear.

  Halaxon stretched his neck out to its full length as he towered above the group, “I shall fly to the Grand Council now,” he sniffed at them disparagingly, “I do not need to be delayed by slow and cumbersome land walkers.”

  “You forget yourself,” Skydda interjected calmly, “I do not give you permission to leave. Never forget that the only reason you continue to live is because they have asked that I spare your life, and so you are now under their protection.”

  The High Dragon suddenly lowered his head towards the ground in a gesture of submission, “Forgive me witch, I did not mean to anger you.”

  Skydda’s light blue eyes became mere slits as she raised a finger at him in warning, “You may have fooled others with your false friendships, but never attempt to play games with me, Dragon. I have lived for a very long time and know that arrogant creatures such as you will never remain submissive for long. Know that if you disobey me that I will be forced to break my promise to these people and end your life.”

  Halaxan inhaled sharply as his game was suddenly forgotten, “You would really do that?”

  “Of course,” Skydda laughed at him coldly, “my promise to these people is the only thing that is preventing me from ending your life right now.”

  Skydda’s body continued to glow as brightly as a midnight star as she held the creature’s gaze. Then to everyone’s surprise the High Dragon closed his eyes and began to chant the words of bonding. This rare oath could only ever be freely given and it meant that the Dragon would become duty bound for life to serve and protect the other to which it was bonded. In the entire history of Nemedia, this bond had never been broken by a Dragon as it formed a sacred trust between two souls.

  “Good,” Skydda nodded at the High Dragon in satisfaction as she placed an authoritative hand upon his lowered forehead, “I am glad that you have finally seen sense,” she glanced over to where Jetzan stood staring open-mouthed, “all I need now is a man to share my bed with who is equally committed and I shall be a very happy woman.”

  Gizurr roared with laughter as Jetzan’s face turned bright red. The group smiled at the exchange as they began to visibly relax. They were not sure how they would be returning to the Grand Council, but they were sure that Skydda would ensure that their arrival there would be swift. As Vank had not yet returned, they had some time to rest and recuperate while they waited.

  As the days passed, the companions ate well. The fish from the lake were so plentiful in number, that it almost seemed as it if they had magically leapt onto Gizurr and Ragni’s fishing lines. Amongst the plethora of flowers there were also many bright coloured mushrooms, which Skydda had informed the group were also good to eat. Before long, they were well fed and rested and they spent their time between snoozing in the bright sunshine and taking long, leisurely walks along the shoreline of the lake.

  Skydda had given them a craft to explore the lake. With a wave of her arms, a small boat magically appeared. It was entirely white in colour, with two sets of oars and a small mast and sail for an alternative mode of travel. Axcil and Ellaminva were the first to take advantage of the boat as the half-Orc gently led the young Elven woman by the hand as he helped her step foot upon the boat. The others were aware that the young couple needed to talk privately given their recent news and were more than happy for them to make use of the craft. Before long, the two young lovers were some considerable distance away at the Northern part of the lake, as swans paddled by, offering an almost dazzling image of white as the sunlight shone upon them and reflected off the waters.

  Gizurr and Ragni were equally delighted when Skydda revealed a hidden cache of cider, brewed over many years from the apple tree that bloomed to the Western side of the golden cottage. Skydda only occasionally partook of the drink, using it mainly to sterilise various kitchen items more than anything. Following an initial nervous sip to check its drinkability, Gizurr soon grinned with delight and swiftly downed several tankards, claiming that it was the best cider that he’d ever tasted. After only a few hours, drunken singing and laughter could be heard echoing from deep inside the cellar of the golden cottage as Gizurr and Ragni clashed together their tankards as they sang rather rude songs that turned the air blue.

  Lady Cillina remained in deep discussion with Vimaltan, the other member of her tribe who had accompanied her. Occasionally, Vimaltan could be seen staring across the lake, his demeanour clearly agitated, before returning once more to talk to Lady Cillina.

  On the fourth day, the image of a Dragon appeared upon the horizon. His armour glinted and flashed from afar in the bright midday sunlight as Vank flew directly towards them, flapping his powerful wings quickly as he deftly landed upon the small island at the centre of the lake. The companions stood in silence, both nervous and exciting at hearing his pending news, knowing that the outcome of his findings would determine if Skydda would be free to leave the confines of the Dragon’s Cup or face an eternity inside it. If the lock of her hair that he had taken had turned to dust, Skydda remain trapped forever. If however, the lock of hair had remained unharmed, then she would be free to return with them to the Grand Council and be free to live a more fulfilled existence. It was clear that Lady
Cillina had already become fond of the young woman, as she would often be seen fussing over her, acting in a motherly fashion to both Skydda and Ellaminva in equal measure as if they were her own daughters.

  Vank grinned as he held forth the lock of undamaged blonde hair, “I went a fair distance and waited for a good part of the day for the sun to move position in the sky, which it did and the lock of hair is undamaged.”

  Lady Cillina shrieked with delight and promptly hugged Skydda so tightly that the young Elven mage could barely breathe, “This is just wonderful,” she said as tears of joy ran down her face.

  “Aye it is,” agreed Gizurr as his hand wavered and he raised a half-drunken tankard of cider towards her, “you can come home live with me if you like and brew me and my people a pub’s-worth of your delicious cider to celebrate.” Gizurr suddenly sneezed and promptly sat down, smiling briefly at her before collapsing back amongst the flowers as he began to snore.

  Skydda blinked as Lady Cillina released her from her grip then spoke, “If peace ever returns to Nemedia, I would like to spend some time with the Hesparind, but I’m sure that there will be time enough to visit and explore all the homelands of my new friends,” her eyes flickered once more towards Jetzan before finally settling upon Axcil, “but first we must deal with the Grand Council without delay and I know how to get us there without delay.”

  Vank was instructed to carry Ellaminva, not quite yet large and powerful enough to carry two passengers. Halaxan carried upon his back Skydda and Lady Cillina. The remaining companions that were still awake and corpus mentis stood around momentarily in confusion before they saw Skydda’s body begin to glow once more. She quickly whispered an incantation, to which Axcil caught one of the words as including ‘volo’ before realising that his feet were leaving the ground. He was soon joined by the snoring body of Gizurr who was now entirely oblivious to what was happening to him and by Vimaltan and Ragni. Skydda nodded towards Axcil to check that he was comfortable with the arrangements and he responded in kind. Before long, the companions were flying Eastwards across the tops of the mountain ranges on their way towards Lake Diabhal to arrange their meeting with the Grand Council.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Death was nothing but a temporary inconvenience to GraJin. When he had died staring into the eyes of his prey, he had meant it when he had said that he would be back. But now, his quest to kill the young human mage had become personal. He hated him. He hated the magic that he sensed that the young man possessed and his apparent lack of awareness of his own abilities. He hated the man’s humanity that he had become aware of when he had plundered his mind when the human had inadvertently stumbled upon him when he had used the Throne of Vines.

  The wisp-like form of GraJin’s spirit flittered across the blackened earth. He needed to find another body soon to inhabit before his spirit weakened its ties to the energy of life and passed on to the Creator. As one of the most senior Commanders of the High King’s army, he could order any citizen of the Thirteenth Tier to relinquish their life and body to him. He just needed to find the right one that would satisfy his needs.

  As his essence darted across the darkened plains it suddenly paused, sensing the presence of the human mage once more. He was here, but this time on GraJin’s home world, but for what purpose he did not know and he suddenly realised that he no longer cared. If his spirit had a mouth it would have smiled, but it instead moved with a renewed urgency across the earth in its pursuit of a suitable host.

  * * * *

  The creatures that watched them from the lengthening shadows were difficult to discern amongst the thick foliage. To the North and East, three moons had suddenly appeared across the angry orange skies, two of which looked to be positioned extremely close as their shadows stretched across the darkened plains. The closest moon to the East was a deep red, with clearly visible mountains that jutted out from its scarred surface as it slowly turned upon its axis.

  The second moon was partially hidden behind the first and seemed to be a vivid blue in colour. Its surface was hidden behind a thick blanket of pulsing, blue gas that constantly swirled and writhed as the grip of is much larger, red sister moon kept the second moon close. The two heavenly bodies moved slowly together across the evening sky as the blue moon fought in vain to free itself from its jailer.

  The third moon was the smallest of the three. This moon stood on its own, high upon the Northern skyline. Despite its small size, its strangely glassy green surface shone the brightest of all, with a clear green path of light from an unknown source that seemed to be almost magical in origin.

  Ethan felt Alexon briefly stir inside him. It was as if he had suddenly stumbled upon an interesting discovery. Ethan wondered if he had indeed learned something of interest, but knew better than to ask his spirit ring directly. From his past dealings with Alexon, that he knew that the ring of the Seer would only reveal information to him if, or when he chose to do so.

  Ethan sighed in frustration and let his gaze wander to find Bruja staring up in fascination at the blood red moon. Roban moved in silently to stand beside her, his hand brushing briefly past her own as if making a weak attempt to hold it, then falling away at the last moment. Ethan continued to watch the awkward couple as they stood together in silence, each acutely aware of the other, but uncertain of how to respond.

  A sudden, loud chattering noise drew everyone’s attention towards the undergrowth. For hours now, fleeting shadows of an unknown size and shape had moved around them, deep inside the recesses of the thick shrubbery. They had felt no sense of imminent danger as they journeyed deeper inside the heart of the valley as they had assumed that it was merely the local wildlife, but this sound was different. It was much louder and had a discernible intelligence to its call. The shadows that had flitted around them immediately halted and seemed to spread apart, as if to create a path for something.

  Then it appeared.

  A creature stepped out from the heart of a dense thicket, parting the foliage with its muscular arms with surprising ease. At first glance, the creature looked to be human, but a closer inspection quickly revealed that it possessed extremely pale skin and had not yet mastered the ability to mimic human eyes, as its pitch black orbs stared back at them.

  “Humans, Wood Nymphs, Vampires,” said the creature with a surprisingly deep, human-like voice, then it paused momentarily as its gaze rested upon Molgarth, “and something that is not what it seems.”

  Molgarth jutted out her chin defiantly, “I am anything that I choose to be.”

  The man-like creature suddenly grinned at her, baring its white teeth as they sparkled unnaturally in the fading light, “You have always been petulant and it seems that despite your new form, nothing has changed.”

  Molgarth’s jaw dropped open, “You know me?”

  The creature cocked its head to one side and frowned at her, “All Molgarth recognise their own kind. Of course I know who you are.”

  “Molgarth is my race and not my name?”

  This time the man-like creature now grew visibly agitated. Her responses had begun to disturb it, “What is your true name?” it asked her sternly.

  “What do you mean?” ‘Molgarth’ asked it with a blank expression.

  With a quick wave of its arms, the man-like creature signalled to the shadows. What had watched them from deep inside the dense vegetation, suddenly burst forth. Creatures of every size and shape, hue and colour quickly surrounded the group as a myriad of claws, paws and hands quickly bound the hands and feet of the companions with twine. Within moments, they were completely incapacitated as they began to struggle in vain to release themselves from their bonds.

  Without further discussion, they were swiftly thrown over the backs of three enormous Chimera-like creatures and began to the carried into the innermost heart of the valley. With each hour that passed, the firelight from the raging Upper Tiers gradually began to diminish, then disappear entirely as the thick foliage around them blocked out all of the ligh
t. At some unknown point, they surmised that they must have entered an underground passageway, as they smelt the familiar scent of stone upon water.

  Theirs captors continued to descend into the blackness, seemingly impervious to its effects as they made no attempt to use the aid of firelight to guide their way. The smell of water upon stone grew ever stronger and they began to hear the distant sounds of an underground river. Although they couldn’t see it, as its sounds grew louder it seemed to be a river that dwarfed the one that led towards the city of Cruroris as they felt the air vibrate with the ferocity of its flow. It was as if the waters of the entire world had gathered in one place, rushing towards an unknown fate as it churned and thrashed its way along the ravines that lay somewhere deep beneath their feet.

  A light suddenly appeared above their heads that revealed a rainbow world as they found themselves surrounded by thousands of creatures of every size, shape, hue and colour imaginable. At first glance, it seemed that they had entered some type of sanctuary as many of the creatures were badly burned and scarred, most likely with injuries that they had sustained when they had fled from the Upper Tiers above.

  “My name is Gareet,” spoke an incredibly deep voice as a totally hairless creature approached them from inside the crowd.

  It walked towards them on two legs. It had the body, head and trunk that at first glance appeared human, but its facial features were slightly disproportionate and its body was over eight feet in height, “what you see before you is my true form. All Molgarth have this as their original form. We are neither male nor female, but we do prefer to alter ourselves and there are some of us who prefer to choose one gender over another. My personal preference is to be male.”

  Gareet’s gaze shifted towards the young Elven woman, who had for years thought that her name was ‘Molgarth,’ “I need to find out why you have no memory,” he continued as his gaze upon remained fixed, “I fear that during your time of imprisonment by the High King that something terrible was done to your mind. Until I am satisfied that you pose no threat to our people, you shall remain at the sanctuary.”