The steady stream of fire stopped. Vincent seized the opportunity and charged at the monstrous dragon backed against the wall. His blade cut through the air, but nothing else. Nicholas had rocketed himself into the air with a roar as the blade began to fall, soaring upward into the sky.
Nicholas quickly flew above the canyon and out of sight. Vincent moved away from the wall, hoping to catch a glimpse of his flying foe before he launched another attack. He caught sight of Nicholas just as he broke into a dive. Vincent barely had time to jump out of the way before the dragon’s monstrous claws dug into the dirt, cutting deep scars in the ground.
Scrambling back to his feet, Vincent struck at the dragon as it pushed off again, cutting a deep gash in his left foreleg. Nicholas let out an agonized cry as he flew upward again, leaving a trail of dripping black blood.
Vincent continued to watch the circling dragon, wishing he had a bow, but knowing that he wasn’t good enough to hit this fast moving target. Even if he did hit him, the sword Silva had given him was the only thing strong enough to pierce the steely scales.
Nicholas dove again, but Vincent was ready this time. He dodged out of the way and swung his blade, cutting the tip off one of the dragon’s claws. Nicholas roared in rage and dove again, faster this time. He hit Vincent in the chest, sending him flying. Vincent hit the wall of the canyon hard and slumped to the ground, struggling for breath.
The dragon landed and started advancing toward Vincent, growling with satisfaction as he went, relishing the scene. Vincent was struggling to get back to his feet, clutching desperately to the rocks behind him for support, but not daring to let go of his sword.
Vincent could see Nicholas preparing to shoot another burst of flames. He was in trouble. The shield had been knocked from his hands when the dragon had hit him. There was nowhere to hide this time. If Nicholas shot his flames, Vincent would be discovered. He would have to find some way to dodge the flames when they came.
“I admit,” Nicholas jeered, his words almost indistinguishable from his normal growl, “you gave a much better fight than I anticipated; but it ends here.”
Nicholas opened his mouth to send a burst of flames at Vincent. Planting his feet firmly on the rock face behind him, Vincent leapt into the air, soaring above the column of fire that blasted the rock face where he had stood just moments before. Rotating in the air, Vincent raised his blade above his head and struck as he neared his foe, severing the creature’s left wing.
He landed hard. Vincent got to his feet quickly to avoid the raging dragon as it thrashed in pain.
“Now you die,” the dragon bellowed. Nicholas whipped his tail at Vincent, the spikes aimed for his heart.
Again Vincent raised his blade and struck, this time severing the end of Nicholas’ tail. The spikes fell to the ground, but the rest of the tail continued swinging at Vincent and hit him in the face, knocking him to the ground once again. He could feel his already cracked mask break. Shards were digging into his face just under his right eye and across his forehead.
The dragon towered over him, a look of pure hatred in its eyes. Vincent struck at the exposed chest of the dragon, but the blade simply glanced aside. Nicholas sneered as he raised his clawed foreleg to strike and finish the battle.
There was no escape this time, no ledge to push off of, no rock to hide behind. Vincent stared drawing in as much of his token as he could. If he was going to die, at least he would take this dragon with him. The energy from the token filled him with a sense of calm. The handle of the sword in his hand seemed to mold to fit his hand.
Suddenly, it felt as though the blade sucked the energy of his token right out of him. The sword shot upward, pulling his arm with it. Vincent could hardly believe his eyes. There, directly in front of him, was a small gap in the scales of the dragon. He pushed the blade forward. It dug deep into the dragon’s flesh, covering Vincent with his black blood.
The dragon staggered backward, trying to clutch at the sword lodged in his chest, but his legs were too short. Nicholas began to glow as he tried to transform back to his human form, but the light became dimmer as the transformation continued, until it was gone altogether; leaving behind a form that was neither dragon nor human.
Vincent got slowly to his feet and staggered to the motionless form of Nicholas and unceremoniously pulled the blade from his chest and wiped it. He turned toward the Eresian Army with a triumphant smile on his face.
“Vincent,” Thomas’ disbelieving voice froze Vincent’s blood. “No, you’re dead. They told me you were dead!”
Vincent raised a hand to his face. Small fragments of his mask fell away from the large gashes covering his face. There was very little of his mask left. Trent was slowly edging his way away from the Eresians, who seemed to be growing uneasy.
“Thomas,” Vincent replied finally, “you don’t understand.”
“No,” Thomas shouted back, “I understand perfectly! The Magi were right all along. They told me the abbeys were lying to us. They told me you were plotting to destroy the Empire and all it stood for, but I was too naïve to listen. Well that ends here.”
“Thomas,” Vincent said again, “You’ve got it wrong. The Magi are the ones planning to destroy the Empire, they must be stopped!”
“No!” Thomas shouted covering his ears. “Everything the abbeys have told me was a lie. Why should I believe you now?” Thomas was becoming angrier by the minute.
“Men of the Eresian Empire,” Thomas shouted, raising his arm into the air, “Take the enemies of the Empire, and destroy their Draylor friends!”
A mighty roar ripped the air as the sky darkened. Vincent looked up. Kai was swooping downward with a group of Draylor behind him. Kai landed and shot a burst of flame to keep the advancing Eresians back.
“Climb on,” Kai bellowed. Vincent and Trent quickly complied. Kai kicked off, soaring again into the sky. Vincent watched helplessly as the Eresians stormed through the gates of the Draylor cavern. It was all over now. He had been discovered.
Chapter 19: Preparations
“We must act quickly,” Silva muttered as he paced around his cabin. “Trent,” he snapped, “tell the Rangers to prepare for battle, the Magi will not delay any longer than necessary.”
“Yes, sir,” Trent replied jumping to his feet as he rushed from the cabin, embracing his token as he went.
“Kai,” Silva continued, “What can you tell me of your people? Do you think that any survived?”
“It is doubtful,” Kai replied mournfully, “I only succeeded in saving forty-three; and we barely escaped. The others were still under the control of the Magi. They would not have been able to defend themselves from the extermination.”
“I see,” Silva whispered. “This is a heavy blow to the Order that will be felt for generations to come.”
“Your sympathy is appreciated,” Kai said, his deep voice little more than a hum, “but what is done, is done. It does us no good to dwell on the past. That is not the way of our people. We live in the present, and we must deal with the threat at hand. We are ready to stand at your side against the Magi.”
“I am sorry,” Silva said firmly, “but I cannot allow that. Your people are a breath away from extinction, I cannot endanger them further.”
“But this danger affects my people as much as any other,” Kai protested. “We deserve to be able to stand against them.”
“No,” Silva shouted, “my word is final. Your people must go into hiding for their own safety. You must lead them away to a land where they will be able to rebuild.”
“As you wish,” Kai replied, holding back a growl, “my people will leave this land, go northward beyond the Empire to the Great Desert. It has long been a proving ground for my people, we know it well.”
“Good,” Silva nodded, “you must leave at first light. You must make your move before word of what happened at the cavern spreads.”
“Agreed,” Kai smiled slyly. “My people must leave as soon as possible.”
“My people must be preserved,” Kai said, rising from his chair, “but I am not just a Draylor. I am also a Knight of the Order of Sandora. It is my right to stand and defend the Order.”
“This not going to be an easy mission,” Silva half smiled in amusement. “It is likely that we will all be killed.”
“Be that as it may,” Kai replied, straightening up as much as the ceiling would allow, “I know my duty, and I will not run from it.”
“Very well,” Silva smiled, “I welcome your assistance. For now, prepare your people to leave.”
Kai nodded without a word and stooped to fit through the door that was much too small for him, leaving Silva and Vincent alone in the cabin. Silva continued to pace in silence. Vincent was starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Vincent,” Silva said at length.
“I’m sorry,” Vincent interrupted, “it’s all my fault. If I had been more careful then this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Silva scolded. “This was going to happen sooner or later anyway. I just wish it had been later.”
“Well,” Vincent said uncertainly, “what do we do now?”
“We need to gather as many people as possible, consolidate our forces. The most defensible place is the Grand Abbey. Word has already been sent to the other abbeys. They should already be on their way. Once Trent has finished his preparations, we march for the abbey. You should go prepare your things. Come back here as soon as you are ready to go.”
Vincent rose from his seat without saying a word and left Silva’s cabin. The sun hung low in the sky as he made his way back to his cabin. The few Rangers in the encampment stared as he passed, whispering to each other. Vincent could feel their eyes burning into him as he entered his cabin and closed the door.
“You’re alright,” Lauren said, sounding relieved as she wrapped Vincent in a large hug. “Trent told me you had been hurt in the battle, but he didn’t say how badly.”
“Well, clearly I’m not as hurt as you thought,” Vincent said, disentangling himself from Lauren. “I can take care of myself.”
“You think so?” Lauren scolded. “You should look in a mirror. It was irresponsible of you not to go to the sanctuary and get healed when you got back. The least you could have done was clean the blood from your face. At this rate your face will be covered in scars.”
Vincent walked over to the small mirror on the wall to survey the damage to his face. Dried blood covered most of the right side of his face, coming from several small scrapes and cuts. A large gash ran just under his right eye. His nose was badly bent and seemed to have just barely stopped bleeding. The left side of his face was almost untouched, having been covered by the surviving part of his mask.
“Could have been worse,” Vincent said with a dry laugh, “he could have got both sides of my face.”
Most of the left side of his tunic had been burned away, although his chainmail was still intact. He gingerly brushed against it, trying to gauge how badly he had been hurt by the fire blast. The room lurched violently and his vision went black momentarily from the pain. Lauren quickly rushed to steady him.
“I think we had better get you to the sanctuary,” Lauren said, sounding concerned. “It looks like you over did it, again.”
“I think you’re right,” Vincent gasped. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much.
Lauren walked with him back through the twilight to the sanctuary. They pushed open the door of the sanctuary and were shocked at what they saw. All the cots were filled with Draylor. Kai wandered between the beds, comforting his injured friends.
“Kai,” Vincent called as he walked in, “What happened to them?”
“Our escape came at a high price,” Kai replied as he walked to join Vincent at the door, sounding very tired, “but my people were happy to pay it. It would seem that I am once again in your debt.”
“I only did what needed to be done,” Vincent muttered awkwardly. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“You are truly a kind man,” Kai replied, “and your actions will not be soon forgotten. Now I must return to the care of my people. They will need to be in top condition tomorrow if they are to travel to the Great Desert. The healers will likely be working all night; but what brings you here?”
“I am also in need of a healer,” Vincent said, hiding a grimace as Lauren prodded him forward in search of one of the priests. “Nicholas was a tougher opponent than I had anticipated.”
“Of course,” Kai exclaimed, sounding almost ashamed of himself. “We must find you a healer immediately. I only wish that it had not been one of my people who had done this to you.”
“It’s not your fault,” Lauren cut in. “He hurt your people much more than he hurt Vincent.”
“You are very kind,” Kai nodded to Lauren, “but it does not change the fact that Vincent was hurt saving my people from one of our own. We will be indebted to him for all eternity.”
“What have you done to yourself this time?” Cynthia’s voice cut across the room as she rushed to Vincent’s side, pushing Lauren out of the way. “Haven’t I told you to take better care of yourself?” she lectured.
“Well, I…” Vincent began but she cut him off.
“No excuses,” she said firmly. “Now sit yourself down while I heal these unsightly wounds.” She forced Vincent into an empty chair and immediately embraced her token. The healing aura engulfed Vincent.
“I see that I am no longer needed here,” Lauren said, her voice cold as ice. “I guess I’ll just go back to the cabin then.”
“I’ll be back soon,” Vincent called after her, but it was too late. She was gone. He heaved a sigh and settled back down into the chair to let Cynthia finish. She was talking nonstop the entire time, but Vincent wasn’t paying attention.
As soon as she finished, Vincent rushed from the sanctuary and back to the cabin. Lauren had closed the door to her room. He sighed in frustration as he started packing his things. Before long he had all his things packed. Fortunately, Lauren’s anger was not long lived and she joined him once again as he returned with his things to Silva’s cabin.
“Vincent, good, you’re back,” Silva said sounding flustered. “I was just about to explain the situation.” Vincent took a seat next to Trent. Silva picked up a particularly wrinkled piece of paper from his desk. “This just came in.” he handed the paper to Trent. “It is not good. The Emperor has died. The official statement is that it was of natural causes; but my sources indicate otherwise. This is a hard blow against us, as the Emperor had always been favorable toward the Order. The new Emperor, however, will not be so favorable. It has not been confirmed, but it is said that he is of the Magi.” There was silence in the room
“But it gets worse,” Silva continued, “Abbot Markov’s condition continues to worsen. The barrier has already begun to diminish. It covers barely half the area it once did. If his condition continues to decay, the Grand Abbey will no longer be a safe haven for us.”
“I see,” Trent said sullenly as he put down the paper Silva had given him. “It is much worse than I thought.”
“It is,” Silva agreed. “We need to move quickly. When the barrier falls, the Grand Abbey will be completely undefended. It is imperative that we are there before that happens.”
“How many of the Rangers are here?” Trent asked.
“Just over five hundred,” Silva replied. “There are still many unaccounted for, but even if we had our full strength, I’m not sure it would be enough to fend off the Eresian Army.”
“It will have to be,” Trent said, slamming a fist down onto the table, toppling several piles of paper. “It’s the only hope we’ve got.”
“Very well,” Silva sighed, “gather the Rangers. I will speak to them before we leave.”
Trent nodded and rose from his seat. He left Silva’s cabin followed by Weston, David and La
uren. Vincent remained seated a moment before he too rose to his feet, and headed for the door.
“Wait a moment,” Silva called, “don’t leave yet. I have something for you, something that I value highly.”
“What is it?” Vincent stopped. He turned to Silva with a curious look. What could Silva possibly have for him?
Silva went to the chest at the foot of his bed and kicked it open. He started rummaging through it, throwing things out of it as he went. Some of the things looked as though they belonged to another age.
“Here it is,” Silva exclaimed happily. He pulled out a gold mask from the chest and handed it to Vincent. Vincent turned to over in his hands, it looked just like the other Ranger masks, except that it was gold.
“What is it?” he asked.
“That was your father’s mask,” Silva explained. “He entrusted it to me when he left the Rangers.”
“But what’s so special about it?”
“It is a unique item,” Silva explained in a hushed voice. “That mask may only be worn by the Guardian. It was given to Breen, the first Pallàdrim, by the Goddess herself. The Elemental Lords will recognize the wearer as the leader of Pallà’s armies. It is indestructible. You must keep it safe. My time is nearing its end. It is up to you now to defend the Royal Family. You are not yet a Pallàdrim, but you must be the Guardian. Keep Lauren safe, whatever it takes.”
Vincent held the mask, staring at it. Not even a scratch marked its perfectly polished surface. It all seemed surreal.
“What do you mean,” Vincent asked at length, “that your time is nearing its end? I thought the Pallàdrim were untouched by age.”
“We are Vincent,” Silva smiled, a great sadness seemed hidden in the smile. “I don’t think that I will survive the battle to come.”
The Ranger (Book 1) Page 27
