"Hey!" Nord complained, a cool wet wind blasting through the house. "Close that, you ijit!" Nord demanded. Lov reluctantly closed the door on the rain. Nord gestured sharply for him to sit. Lov sullenly walked to the table and took a seat.
"Listen, Lov, this is all about relaxing, and just letting your gift flow. If that fairy did what I think she did, all you have to do is connect, and the shield should guide the rest of the process." Nord walked around and sat next to his nephew. "I can help with a guided meditation if you'd like."
Lov nodded his head, eager to accept help from his uncle.
"Close your eyes. Take some deep relaxing breaths." Lov complied, feeling his shoulders and chest relax as he breathed. "Picture yourself by the beach. Listen to what the world is asking you." Lov pictured it, hearing the waves crash on the beach. Who are you? Lov heard on the waves.
"Don't try to answer the question, just know your answer." Lov listened to the waves, hearing more. What is your purpose? Lov faltered, not sure of that answer. What do you want? Lov sent as clearly as possible, "Help!" He spoke aloud at the same time.
Nord shook Lov bringing him out of his trance. "What just happened? Why did you call for help?"
Lov shrugged his shoulders. "I heard a voice, so I answered. Why did you shake me?"
"You called out for help." Nord defended himself. "I'm not going to let you sit there so deep in a trance that you're drooling. Especially if you call for help."
Lov took a deep breath and calmed himself. "I understand, Uncle, but I was fine. I was just answering the questions."
Nord rubbed his eyes, confused as to what had happened. He stood from the table, heading towards his room. "Well, I hope you can figure it out. Promise me you won't try that on your own without training. I don't want you to lose yourself.”
"Don't worry, I won't."
Nord headed to his room and fell into bed. His feet hung off the edge of it, stretching across a flat topped trunk. He fell asleep quickly, feeling that soon their peaceful routine would be broken.
Lov sat at the table, attempting again to touch the power within. His dragonhunger seemed to laugh at him. It seemed to tell him that he was hopeless and all was lost. Lov lost himself to time, listening to the steady drumming of the rain on the world outside. He listened to the rhythmic beating and, as he did with the waves, heard a voice. I am coming.
He lost himself in a trance, and didn't notice when he lost control of his consciousness. His dragonhunger manipulated his magic, and he felt himself connect with his power. Excitement filled him and he opened his eyes, looking to the kindling. But nothing had happened. Not even a hint of smoke. In disgust, Lov tossed the checker piece onto the table. He went to the door and stepped out into the rain. The cool water felt good as it dripped down his face.
He turned to go back inside, and was startled to see that the kindling on the table was lit! He ran back into the house, and the force of his body rushing in seemed to fan the flames. The entire tabletop was now on fire! Lov panicked and flipped the table onto its side. As he rolled it out the door, he stomped the last burning embers of the kindling out.
He walked over to the ash pile on the floor, and picked out the checker piece. It was hot! Not enough to burn his skin, but enough to elicit smoke and leave a char spot on the floor. He chucked it through the door, not willing to risk burning the house down.
A startled "What the....?" sounded from outside before Lov heard the obsidian piece land in a puddle with a soft explosion, and it fractured into many pieces. He heard a hearty laugh from outside. "Well, looks like you figured it out." Lov stepped outside and found an old man standing in the rain. He was shorter than Lov, bald on the top of his head with long hair on the sides. He wore a simple brown robe. "I thought you said you needed help."
Lov gave a start, recognizing the voice from the waves. "Who are you?" He asked the old man.
"I'm your grandfather, kid, and I've come to give you a guiding hand."
Chapter Thirteen
Nord awoke the next morning to the sun blinding him. A shaft of sunlight had managed to slip through the small gap in the wooden shutters, sending a slant of golden brightness perfectly across his face. He sat up with a groan, clutching and pawing at burning eyes while muttering sleepily, "Damn sun's tryin' ta kill me." He went out into the dining room, expecting to feel the table bump into his leg. Just when he was wondering where the table was, he stumbled into the wall. He pried his eyes open as he fumbled around to see that the table was missing.
He sat in one of the chairs and stared at the pile of ash on the floor. It didn't seem to be enough ash to be the table's remains. "Lov!" He attempted to call out, but the words croaked in his throat. He cleared his throat with a cough and tried again. "Lov! What happened to the table?" When no answer was forthcoming, he rose from the chair and went to his nephew's room. He pounded on the door. "Lov! Wakey wakey! Hands off snakey!" He pushed the door open and was shocked to see Lov's bed empty.
He ran back into the kitchen, searching for any clue as to what had happened. He didn't see Lov's bow, or the ax and sword he had taken from the training room. He ran outside, looking for tracks to follow. He found the table, upside down in the yard, and two sets of foot prints. He followed them around the side of the house to the bathhouse. And then Nord found them. Huge gouges of earth were dug out of the ground. It looked like a dragon had flown from here. "Well, be safe, boy. Come back to me in one piece."
He went back inside the house and started to pack.
As he was finishing getting his pack back together, Jaxon came home. "What happened to my table? And what is this mess all over my kitchen floor?" He glared at his friend. "Were you playing with my treasure?" Jaxon demanded, eyeballing his tall friend.
"Yes, we were, but I don't think that's what caused this." Nord replied reflexively, raising his hands defensively. "Lov's missing, I think his grandfather might have taken him somewhere." The giant of an elf sat in one of the chairs, pulling out the broadsword he and Lov had found. It was comical, as his knees were pressed to his chest, making the seat look shrunken and uncomfortable. "So why did you never tell me you had this?" He pulled it from the sheath, and the blade sang.
Jaxon's face turned scarlet. "Well, I don't know what to say." He sat in one of the other chairs wearily. "I found it. I've spent a lot of years out treasure hunting. Part of the reason the women around here are so eager to get their claws in me. I'm the oldest eligible bachelor left." He sighed with fatigue. "But that story can wait, know that I always meant to give you that blade."
Nord smiled and gave his short friend a hug. "It's come at a time of great need, my friend. I have a feeling we're going to need it, as well as the two weapons Lov took."
"Which ones did he take?" Jaxon asked. Those weapons had been his for many years. He felt protective of them.
"A battle ax, with an Eye of Gruumnsh stamped on the head. And a plain looking blue sword that floated behind him." Nord told him. "He's the one that picked out this sword too. He's got one mean eye." Nord said, the blade humming a light song as he waved it in the air.
Jaxon smiled, "You're right when you say that boy has an eye. He chose the weapons of Greatmother Nika's husband. The orc who commanded her armies." Jaxon furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully. "I hope he's as stubborn as his mother, if half the stories I've heard about that floating sword are true. It'll be just as dangerous to him as his enemies."
Nord rubbed his eyes, worried for his nephew. "I hope he is too. His dragonhunger is untested, and I worry about him."
"I did find out some of the scuttlebutt about the tragedy in Elvenhom." Jaxon said, changing the subject. "It appears Gendry is dead. The Titans have avoided spreading the word." He stood and started to pace. "Apparently, an elderly human acolyte named Martell has taken control of the Breath of the Titans." He stopped pacing and sat back down. "Gendry died without naming his successor. Martell was his last private student, which is why he was chosen to succeed Gendry. But there's
talk that the old Titanbringer may have tried to summon another candidate to succeed him." He stood up and gestured to the door. "Come outside with me."
They went outside and Jaxon took a deep breath. He pulled his pipe from his pocket and filled it with fresh herb. He puffed away furiously, formulating his thoughts. "I feel a storm coming, my friend. And I think your nephew will be at the heart of it."
Nord shook his head. "Of course, you'd curse me like that, wouldn't you?" He walked back into the house, his shoulders sagging. "He's the last family I have, and I've no way to keep him safe." He closed the door on Jaxon, who stood outside, still puffing his pipe.
To no one in particular Jaxon said, "I hope you know what you're doing." He tapped out his pipe and followed Nord back into the house.
Chapter Fourteen
Tyrosh was propelled through a door, throwing her to her knees. She stared around the room, drinking in the scene. She recognized her adopted father's old study. There was Pilate's Principals and Ethics of Governance, on the same shelf it always was when Gendry gave her lessons.
She saw his chess board sitting along one wall, where it always had been. She and Gendry played many tough matches in this room. The dragoness smiled, remembering the first time she had beaten him in a game.
Her concentration was broken by a door slamming. Doors never slammed in this place. An old man strode deeper into the room. His thin white hair hung to his shoulders, and his skin was pulled tightly over his face. It made him appear skeletal. Intense emerald eyes stared at her, intelligence and madness shining in them.
"Ah, Tyrosh!" He exclaimed, stepping closer to her. She resisted the urge to choke him where he stood. She understood that this was the puppet master to her torment. "What? No love for your fellow orphan? We were both the favorites of Gendry. That should be some sort of family, right?" Tyrosh reexamined the old man, and knew who he was.
"Martell!" She spat, her hair flying wildly around her. "I always knew you were jealous of me, but this? Enslaving a whole people?"
"Oh come off your high horse!" He yelled back, showing behavior unbecoming in a Titanbringer. "How is what I did any different than what you did to the orcs?"
She choked on her rage, gave in, and struck him with her closed fists. A Titan surged forward, snatching Tyrosh by her hair and lifting her a foot off the ground. Martell clutched at his bloody mess of a nose, as it dripped red down the front of his robes. "You'll pay for that." He said, stepping forward with a dagger. He reached up and began to cut through her luxurious copper hair. When he had it shortened, he ordered a Titan to closely hold and pin her against the floor, while he shaved it to the skin. He tore out gouges from her scalp whenever she struggled. When finished, he dropped the dagger at his slippered feet.
The Titan let go of Tyrosh, and her hair fell all around her. She gathered the long silken tresses into her hands, her elven ears all the more emphasized with her mane gone. She refused to cry, instead her voice went cold. "One of these days I'll see you pay for this, Martell!" She then let out a scream of impotent rage.
"I can't believe Gendry would name you his successor." Martell guffawed, a cruel and wheezy laugh, when he saw the shocked expression on her face. "I'd forgotten, I haven't told you the best part. At the end, when Gendry was dying, he sent for you. Lucky for me he told no one of his intentions. When he died unexpectedly, it was too simple and easy to play off being his last orphan, convincing the high priests that I was to be the next Titanbringer." He sauntered to where she knelt on the ground. "You were meant to control the Titans, and I stole that from you."
Tyrosh attempted to jump to her feet, filled with a desire to choke the life from this insane bastard. But the Titan, sensing her building hostility, calmly grabbed her by an arm, and dragged her from the room.
"Don't worry, darling." Martell gloated to Tyrosh, "We'll have lots of visits like this. It will never get tiring, showing you how I one-upped you."
Lov sat up to the sound of waves crashing on the beach. He peeled his eyes open, looking around the cave. Almost a week had passed since his grandfather dropped him off on this island. He had spent the last few days exploring the sandy beaches, searching for a bright purplish fruit he had discovered. He still couldn't get the addicting sweetness out of his thoughts. He had brought a few small game animals down with his bow, but there weren't many. He found he had to supplement his diet with large juicy purple fruit. Still, he craved more meat, and his dragonhunger warned him it wasn't satisfied.
He walked to where the water lapped the sand, feeling the ocean's waves wash up over his feet. Lov surveyed the jungle not a hundred paces away and the mountain that thrust up from its depths. There was a pack of monkeys cavorting in the distant treetops. I've been here nearly a whole week and nothing's happened. He thought to himself.
Lov thought back to the day his grandfather had dropped him off. The old man, who happened to be named Tryton, told him that using a focus had been the wrong thing for him to do. "It comes from inside, and you will it to happen." He had said before floating away in his humanoid form. Lov had been practicing, attempting to master the fire again. But so far his efforts had borne no fruit.
He fell into a sitting position on the beach and closed his eyes. The sun warming his face, as a cool breeze washed in from the ocean.
Piercing the silence, a crashing and thundering erupted from the jungle. Lov opened an eye, wondering what was going on. What he saw was a beast of nightmare. It was easily the size of a horse, and it loped across the sand, its paws barely touching the ground. The head of an eagle glared at him with large eyes focusing intently upon its prey. It appeared to be covered in scales the size of his fist, looking like tiny green interlocking shields over its whole body. A vicious hooked beak snapped intimidatingly as it bolted towards him.
Lov turned and ran his fastest. He sprinted towards the trees, looking for some cover. The beast gained steadily on him. Lov burst through the trees, bodily tearing a way through the thick foliage. Leaves and branches slapped him all over. He ran through a hive, causing biting, stinging insects to swarm around him in a thick cloud. He heard the beast behind him, crashing and breaking through the jungle. In desperation, Lov climbed a tree, going so high up he feared the branches would break under his weight.
Lov watched the foliage move from his high perch, as the creature stepped into view. He struggled to ignore the insects that still buzzed around him. It was looking right at him, as if it knew exactly where he was from the start. It moved underneath the young half-dragon, pacing at the bottom of the tree. The beast reared back and launched itself from the ground. Lov felt the wind of its swing against his legs as it took a swipe at him. The creature missed by feet, but the strength of the swing was still felt. It sat back again, twitching a long whip tail back and forth, considering. The creature acted, launching at the tree, and catching its long claws in the smooth bark. Lov felt the whole trunk shake. It started to pull itself up, slowly but steadily. Lov watched in fascinated horror as it drew closer. Just when it seemed close enough to touch, its green scales the color of emeralds, deep yellow eyes staring right into the heart of Lov, it slipped and tumbled from the tree. It hit a couple of large lower branches on the way down, busting one of them from the trunk. The tree shuddered and shook with each impact.
When it landed, the animal heaved itself onto its feet and shook its head, as if to clear it. The beast gave a sharp bark, then lay down, head up gazing at Lov. The young half-dragon started looking around. He was hoping to see another branch or something to escape to another tree with. But nothing was close enough that he'd want to risk it.
So they waited, looking to the other to make the first move.
Chapter Fifteen
A tall, lanky old man with a thick, bushy white mustache stepped out from the trees. Tryton had changed his appearance in case Lov woke up. He looked to where his grandson slept, then turned his attention to the beast.
"Good, Fifi. But he didn't go where we wanted him to.
" The beast cocked her head listening. Tryton pointed to the mountain. "We need him up there, so disappear and try again."
The beast moved through the jungle, melting into the thick underbrush. Tryton sauntered over to stand under the tree's branches where the young half-dragon slept. He willed himself to levitate until he was eye level with Lov. "You better figure this out, kid. You're the only one who can save your mother, and get the Titans on the right track." He levitated down to the tree's trunk and took one last look back up at his grandson. As he walked into the forest, he grew in size. From the size of a man to the size of a wagon, then to the size of a house. His blue and orange scales glowed lightly in the night as he took off from the island, headed to his own battles he had to fight.
Lov gave a start grabbing for a nearby branch as a gust of wind blasted him in the tree. It was still dark, but he could see. He searched for the beast that had chased him earlier, unable to spot it. He waited patiently, making sure that the beast was gone. The half-elf slowly lowered himself from the tree, feeling the jungle for any changes. As he passed where the beast scaled the tree, his fingers slipped into the gouges it had made on the trunk to his second knuckle. He snatched his hand out, shocked by how deep the claw marks were.
His foot slid on the trunk, and Lov scrambled for a hand hold on the tree, but was unable to find one. He tumbled along the same path the beast had, even landing on the branch it busted off. A sharp pain filled his side, and Lov looked down to see a piece of the branch buried there. He groaned as he twisted around trying to get a better look at the stick. It was as thick as his thumb, and it hurt. He ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and pulled the stick out, bandaging the wound as best as he could. He felt the wound stretch as he stood. It was painful, but Lov chose not to let it affect him.
Breath of the Titans: The False Titanbringer: Complete Trilogy Page 8
