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

by Jake Adler

  The human mage.

  The very thought of him filled GraJin with a sense of blood lust. A high pitched whine emanated from the back of his heavily scaled throat as he instinctively raised his snout in an attempt to catch his scent. He raised a hand towards his chin in contemplation, only to surprise himself by a sharp, metallic scraping sound as he remembered that he now had claws as they ran across the thick-set armoured scales upon his face. He realised that he had not yet grown used to his new body and that he needed time to study its abilities before he began his hunt for his prey.

  His new body seemed to be equally comfortable both standing and walking on two legs as it was on four, but it came into its own when travelling on four legs. He smiled in satisfaction as he realised that he could retract his claws and crouched over towards the earth. He began to run. He ran for hours, pushing his new body to its very limits as he heard the wind whistle past his as he rejoiced in the thundering beat of his powerful new heart. He took the opportunity to study the length of his strides and to test his stamina as he jumped, dodged and weaved across the earth, as if chased by another who may do him harm.

  Time passed and unnaturally dark eyes suddenly narrowed as he lifted his snout once more to sniff the air. He still could not smell the human, but he had caught the faint scent of something that he did recognise. He slowed then paused to scratch his snout with one of his front paws. The familiar scent was coming from the East but he struggled to remember what it was. His gaze shifted momentarily as he seemed to be listening to something. Within moments his black muzzle and mouth twisted once more to reveal a set of long white fangs that contorted into another hideous smile.

  He had found the Molgarth.

  * * * *

  A young red Dragon named Aranx tapped the floor several times in quick succession with a huge talon, “It isn’t good idea I tell you,” he snorted angrily as he then rose to his feet and began to pace the floor, “the Northern races are bloodthirsty swines and any attempt to reason with them is a waste of time.”

  Givarax frowned at him darkly, “We must all remain loyal to the commands of our Fae Queen no matter what,” he glanced sharply at the Dragon, “and don’t you ever forget that.”

  “Indeed.” Halaxan interjected as he watched the exchange between the two Dragons with a cold indifference.

  “What should we do?” pressed the young red Dragon that had barely entered adulthood and although he was now a solider, he had no experience of battle at all.

  “We are going to send a peace delegation as our Queen commands,” Givarax replied calmly, “but we shall also send a rear guard two days travel behind them. We shall give the Queen’s plan for peace a chance, but we must also prepare for its failure.”

  Halaxan remained expressionless as he listened to Givarax. He had become experienced over the years in being able to hide his thoughts and emotions. If Givarax knew what he was really thinking and feeling, he would have had Halaxan immediately thrown in jail. He knew that he needed to wait for the safest opportunity to slay both Givarax and the Queen so that he could reclaim his rightful place as High Dragon that had believed had been unfairly stolen from him, “I will of course abide by whatever you think is best,” Halaxan added with an insincere smile.

  Givarax pursed his lips as he nervously drummed his talons against the floor before he stopped himself, as he remembered how irritated he had been when Aranx had done it, “I fear that the Queen is too trusting,” he said as his face took on a pained expression, “it is regrettable,” he continued, “but I believe that we must prepare for war. The rear guard will be instructed to assassinate the leaders of the Northern Clans to cause confusion amongst their ranks if the peace delegation fails in its mission.”

  “Who will be in command of this army?” Halaxan asked him calmly.

  “I will,” Givarax let out a long sigh and then grimaced, “their attack on the Dwarven capital city of Takrak, on the Forts of Mavak and Varok where our brethren served and their aid in the annihilation of the Human capital city of Ellington must not go unpunished. I doubt very much that they would trust any offer of peace from any of us after they have already spilled so much of our blood. It is a foolish mission to search for peace, but we are obligated to try as we have been commanded to do so by our Queen.”

  “The Queen has been swimming around in pool of water and picking flowers for over two thousand years,” snorted the young red Dragon with contempt, “she is a threat to the future existence of the Fae because she has no idea about the real world.”

  “Silence!” Givarax boomed as he angrily jabbed a talon at him, “You shall be respectful of your Queen or I shall have you imprisoned for treason.”

  The eyes of Aranx widened as he fell silent.

  Halaxan’s eyes glistened with excitement as a plan began to form in his mind. It seemed that the fates had already decided that he would not have to wait long to get rid of them both after all.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Throughout the ages, the ancient black granite stone had remained a mystery. It was located upon the Eastern plains and it had been in existence for longer than recorded history. Legend had it that only on the darkest, stormiest nights that a hideous creature could sometimes be seen writhing inside it. The beast had been described in many differing ways, but by far the most common description was of an enormous snake-like creature with eyes as black as night and a forked tail that it thrashed constantly against the surface of the stone as if attempting to break free.

  Despite being over three thousand feet in height and nearly five hundred feet wide, the highly polished stone reflected the surrounding terrain with such perfection, that it was often difficult to find. Only when standing close to it, could its true nature be discerned, but even then, it was often mistaken for a gigantic mirror rather than anything made out of stone. Over time, the object grew in its infamy and became known as the Devil’s Mirror.

  On the night that the Wizard Manannán created the magical kingdom of Nemedia, the stone changed. The tear in the fabric of magic drew the red and blue moons closer together, causing them to begin to fight against each other in a deadly dance of supremacy as they moved towards the planet and pushed it ever closer towards the sun. As the First Tier burned from the sun’s rays, an enormous fireball fell upon the Eastern plains. The Devil’s Mirror soon became a glowing rock as the fires raged across the land for weeks. Once they died down, the stone cooled and as it did so its mirrored surface cracked the shattered, revealing a portal that led inside inside ‘the veil’ and beyond to the catalyst of its creation, the magical kingdom of Nemedia.

  When the High King became aware of the portal, he swiftly sent his armies to stand guard over it. He wanted to prevent the potential mass exodus of his people who he suspected might want to abandon their own world in favour of the one that they could glimpse inside the portal. Once he learned from his oracles that Nemedia was the cause of the slow death of his home world, his fears of the loss of his kingship turned to feelings of rage. He sent his armies through the portal, intent on destroying Nemedia in the hope that its annihilation would repair the damage done to ‘the veil’ and save his world. But fate was against him and his forces were defeated in the First Great War upon the plains of Malakan. The portal was closed by Brid Clodagh, the First Saviour of Nemedia, but the High King suspected that its closure was merely a temporary one.

  So he waited.

  He spent his time scheming and building up his armies. Further to those that his lost during the battle of Malakan, nearly one third of his forces had been temporarily lost inside ‘the veil’ when it had been closed, only to return inexplicably claiming that instead of being lost for months, that they had in fact been imprisoned for over two thousand years. Most who returned were afflicted by a terrible madness, but those who could still talk spoke about the horrors that they had seen. But there was one amongst them who stood out who held knowledge and abilities that were of great use to the High King.

  His nam
e was GraJin.

  Once nothing more than a lowly solider of no consequence, GraJin had returned the leader of the horde who now possessed strange magical abilities. He had been the first to learn how to halt the slow decay of his body that had died when he had become trapped inside ‘the veil’ by fortifying his own essence. He had quickly passed on this knowledge to the others, earning him the role of leader to thousands of his brethren trapped alongside him inside ‘the veil’.

  They became a new race, a Demon horde that was stripped of the emotions of life as they spent their time exploring the strange, terrifying netherworld upon which they had become stranded. The food they ate did not sate their perpetual hunger and the water they drank did not slate their thirst. The grey skies above possessed no sun, offering them no warmth to remind them of the joys of being alive.

  At the heart of the cold, soulless terrain they came across a lake. Its waters looked dark and forbidding as its surface slowly rippled like a thick, ominous soup as if something enormous moved inside it. Despite its disturbing presence there was something about it that retained their interest. Years passed as they slowly and carefully explored the shores of the vast lake, but they found to their frustration that they were thwarted by an invisible barrier that seemed to surround the lake. As the decades slowly turned into centuries, they began to lose hope of ever escaping their imprisonment.

  It was then that they saw it.

  The snake-like beast of legend, rising up above the waters as its scaled, black body twisted in the air before crashing down once more inside it, creating an enormous wave of energy that broke the barrier that prevented them from entering the lake. The creature seemed to be in great pain as its body moved faster and faster inside the water, moving in quick concentric circles as the lake became a vast, swirling whirlpool.

  The waters suddenly separated into deep concentric channels, laying bare sections of the bottom of the lake that revealed small glimpses of their home world. It was then that GraJin realised that this was their chance of escape that they had been waiting for. He swiftly led his brethren across each channel, leapfrogging across each now almost solid ring of black gloop that felt underfoot as if it now made out of soft earth. They soon reached the very centre of the lake and it was there that they saw an opening that was large enough for each of them to pass through.

  Then they jumped.

  For a few moments, they wondered if they were passing into oblivion as images of different worlds and universes flashed before their eyes. During this time of unknown length, they gained knowledge about creation that would change them forever. Upon their return to their home world, the tear inside ‘the veil’ began to appear once more, signalling to the High King that he could soon return to the lands of Nemedia. But he knew now that he must be patient. He needed to pit the varying races against one another and to harvest allies. He suddenly grinned as his thoughts drifted towards the Molgarth, as a plan began to form.

  * * * *

  The orange skies burned above with an increased savagery as the companions left the relative cool of the underground sanctuary and returned to the surface. Shielding their eyes against its glare, they swiftly set out on foot along with the most able-bodied of the Molgarth, as they began their long march towards the Devil’s Mirror. Their plan was a simple one. They would use the element of surprise to confuse the armies of the High King that guarded the portal, giving Master Bedwyr time to place a blessing on it before using it to make good their escape.

  The tome of the Wizard Manannán had been very specific about the spell that was needed. Once completed, they would head for the Zarton Territories and meet with General Zik, the leader of the Troll armies. The General had been instrumental in forming the alliance with the Molgarth and it would be he who could offer them protection against any Demons soldiers that might be in pursuit of them.

  “I will never eat anything barbecued again,” Ethan grimaced as his soft leather boots crunched upon shards of broken bones and charcoaled matter.

  “Me too,” Cara agreed as she stared at the burnt remains that littered the ground.

  “Try not to look at it,” Talina advised as she moved to one side to avoid stepping upon a fragile-looking skull that was caked in soot.

  “Not a good idea,” interjected Roban who had just stepped in something as he scraped his boot along the ground in an attempt to dislodge it.

  The air had grown discernibly hotter as they had left the heart of the valley and began to move towards higher ground. Thousands of Molgarth now walked amongst them, with an equivalent number that had taken flight. Some of the creatures were tiny, perfectly mimicking animals from their own home world that were no larger than mice. Others towered many feet above them, with many choosing battle-hardened forms with thick outer shells and a mixture of claws, horns and tusks that made them formidable foes. Yet each time the companions stared at them, they seemed to have changed. The companions quickly realised that the Molgarth were experimenting, changing their forms in preparation for various strategies of fight and flight, as their main mission was to confuse the enemy and to buy the Grand Mage enough time to enact a blessing upon the portal.

  Gareet had informed them that they would reach the Devil’s Mirror by nightfall. The hours seemed to pass by slowly as they fought their way through the searing heat and Ethan found that he was breathing heavily, “This place is awful,” he gasped as he ran his fingers through his hair that was now dripping with sweat.

  Master Bedwyr suddenly halted and pointed towards the distant image of a creature that was now moving rapidly away from them. It was a Demon scout. The High King had jealously guarded the portal from the moment of its opening, killing all wanderers and trespassers who might use it to escape their dying world without his permission. As such, the area was littered with scouts and they knew that if he managed to alert the army that guarded the portal, their element of surprise would be lost and their chances of surviving to even reach the portal to enact the blessing would be diminished.

  The spirit ring on both of the hands of the Grand Mage began to burn with a bright blue-white light. Lightening suddenly leapt out from his fingertips as it streaked towards the Demon scout, only to miss as it as the creature leapt swiftly to its right. Master Bedwyr cursed, turning the air blue with a series of profanities that Ethan had never heard him speak before as he flicked forward his two index fingers, this time sending a series of rapid-fire bursts of pure energy that shot towards the scout like glowing bullets. Most of the energy bursts missed and hit the earth, singing its already black soil as plumes of acrid smoke quickly filled the air as the Demon scout continued to dodge and weave across the dark ground.

  But there were too many of them for even the light-footed creature to avoid as one of them hit its mark, searing through the Demon’s right shoulder as it knocked it off its feet. They heard it shriek in pain as it tumbled to the earth, only to attempt to rise once more. The gaze of the Grand Mage darkened as he drew his hands together. This time the lightening combined to form a continuous beam that hit the creature square in the centre of its back, immediately engulfing its body with blue-white fire as it swiftly burned then promptly exploded in a cloud of ash.

  Ethan glanced towards Master Bedwyr and saw him nod in satisfaction. It had been a close call. They were now only a few miles away from the Devil’s Mirror and there was a small chance that the explosion might have been heard. Time was now of the essence and with a quick nod of understanding to one another, they began to run. Those that flew matched the speed perfectly of those who travelled across the plains, as their many wings created their own wind as they raced towards the Devil’s Mirror.

  Ethan noticed that the body of the Grand Mage had begun to shimmer with an intensity that lit up the centre of the charging army of the Molgarth with the brightness of a midnight star. He felt Alexon stir inside him and suddenly sensed something disturbing about his spirit ring that he did not like. It was as if Alexon was looking forward to something and ha
d purposely hidden this knowledge from Ethan. He frowned momentarily in anger but knew that he had to push his concerns to the back of his mind as he would be soon entering a battle and he would need to call upon Alexon’s powers to protect him from harm.

  The Molgarth had formed a protective circle around Master Bedwyr, aware of the need to keep him safe so that he could enact a blessing upon the portal. As they rounded a wall of rocky outcrops, they saw it for the first time. It glowed with a beautiful golden light that sparkled with flashes of silver. They blinked, momentarily mesmerised by its beauty then their gaze shifted to the Demons that guarded it. They were surprisingly few in number, but there was no doubting that their presence was frightening to behold.

  Ten Demons with arms and legs as thick as tree trunks glanced up at their approach and snarled. The Molgarth thundered towards them, but then seemingly out of nowhere more Demon soldiers appeared. They had missed the presence of a further large outcrop of rocks that lay directly to the East of them that screen an entire encampment of tens of thousands. Black tents and banners with images of red horns upon skulls fluttered in the hot breeze, as Demon soldiers began to move out of their tents in response to the sounds of alarm made by their brethren.

  They knew that if they had only moments before it would be over for all of them.

  “Get through the portal now!” Master Bedwyr barked.

  The Molgarth did not hesitate, their previous courage rapidly dissipating in light of the tens of thousands of hideous creatures that were already clambering towards them, “What about you?” Ethan screamed at Master Bedwyr over the noise.

  “It will take but a moment, a few words for the blessing, then I shall follow you,” Master Bedwyr yelled, “now go!”

  Ethan nodded briefly then ran. As he drew closer to the sparkling golden light he again sensed Alexon’s satisfaction at what was about to happen. As he sprinted into the glare of the portal he felt his body spin. He felt as if he was tumbling through the air as faces and places from his past and present flew by. He then landed suddenly in a sprawled heap upon purple coloured grass as the breath was knocked out of him. He raised his head then blinked in confusion. Purple grass was not normal for either Earth or Nemedia. He glanced around to find that the rest of his companions and the surviving Molgarth were close by, but then he realised that Master Bedwyr was nowhere to be seen.