WHERE IT HAD still been day in the tiny, hidden world Dru and his companion had discovered, it was now night. With the return to the ruined city, the sorcerer’s weariness and hunger had increased a hundredfold, as if being in that other place had held back time for a space. Dru found concentration impossible, despite the threat before him. This time, the spellcaster knew that there would be no second or even third wind; his body had reached its limitations. He prayed that Darkhorse was still fit, else the two were lost.
The Seekers were late in noticing the newcomers, concentrating as they had on their captive. The elf was the first to become aware of the tall figure astride the demonic steed and it was her inability to hide her shock that alerted the avians to their danger. In the pale light of the one full moon, Dru knew that he and his companion must appear fearsome, but appearances and reality often had little in common. He clutched Darkhorse’s mane tightly to keep from falling and whispered, “You have to deal with them! I… won’t be much use!”
The shadow steed’s laughter rang through the night, bouncing eerily throughout the skeleton of the once-mighty place. “They are hardly a matter of concern! Hold tight!”
“Don’t hurt the elf!” Dru added, suddenly fearful that the Seekers’ captive, possibly someone who might verify what the Vraad had guessed about the worlds within worlds, would perish in the course of the ebony stallion’s rampage.
“Is that what you called an elf? Have no fear! It has not made itself worthy of my caring attention yet!”
Dru shivered. His companion, growing more and more comfortable in his form and role, was also growing more frightening.
The avians scattered, two carrying the prisoner into the sky while she fought them tooth and nail, crying out words that Dru, holding on for dear life, could not understand. One Seeker foolishly held her ground, locating but fumbling with her medallion. Darkhorse ran through her. The sorcerer, pressed against the entity’s backside, caught a brief flash of a horrified visage… and then the female was no more.
“Ha! Let that—” The words never came. Dru heard a swish! and then he was being thrown into the air, his grip broken as easily as the sorcerer might have snapped a twig beneath his boots. He lacked the air to scream and so could only wait in silence for the ground to come up and shatter his body. His thoughts refused to go beyond his imminent destruction. The moons flashed by twice, a glimmering circle and a dim slash, one crimson and the other the pale of death, and their appearances remained fixed in his mind even as he noted that his descent was about to come to a very final finish.
No, said a voice within his head.
The earth was cheated of its prey. Dru felt everything freeze. Though his eyes were open, he could see nothing save the memories of the moons. It occurred to him that no sounds could be heard and he wondered what had become of the Seekers and Darkhorse.
No interference, came another familiar voice.
We are beyond that, added the third, almost eagerly.
We are, agreed the first. They have all come to this place. To not interfere is to allow all else to fail.
Dru could feel endless voices arguing for and against what the first being had said. Though the argument seemed to go on forever, the confused sorcerer knew that only seconds had likely passed when it drew to a conclusion. In the end, the first being’s opinion was upheld, but only barely.
That was the last he knew. The world, all worlds, ceased to be of any import to him.
YOU ARE VRAAD.
The defiant sorcerer nodded, not knowing where he was or how he had come to this place from the chaos of the ancient city. Dru looked around, but could make out nothing save the chair he sat on and his own body. He felt refreshed, capable of doing combat with the strongest of adversaries, but knew better than to attempt any assault now.
He cannot be Vraad! They are rejected!
It was the second voice again. The tall sorcerer stared defiantly into the darkness and said, “I am Vraad! I am Dru Zeree!”
He has life! the third being mocked. Of the three who acted as speakers, this was the one who repelled Dru the most. It reminded him far too much of Melenea and her games, of how she looked at everything in life as some wicked game.
Games… I like that! We have played such a long, boring game… until now! the third commented playfully.
A cold sweat formed on Dru’s brow. He shielded his thoughts better, though he supposed the effort was little more than futile. In these creatures Dru had found power that dwarfed even that of his companion.
What is the thing? asked the first.
When the sorcerer finally understood the question, he shook his head. Answering the question could do him no more harm than he was already due. “I don’t know for certain. I met Darkhorse in an empty place I call the Void. He seems to come from there.”
There was silence as he felt the beings mull over his words and his thoughts. They did not reprimand him when he spoke out loud and he wondered if they had their limitations as Darkhorse did or whether they merely knew he felt more comfortable hearing his own voice in this place where other noises did not exist.
How did he come to be here? the second voice asked. Of the three, it seemed the most indecisive.
You have seen it, the first reminded. They seemed indifferent to the fact that Dru listened into their conversation.
It was not made to be that way.
It was too long ago. You know that time drains, time turns all away from the purpose.
And we do nothing! Always nothing! the third interjected with disgust. We who have the power to do anything!
Such is not our purpose. The response came from several minds and reminded Dru of nothing so much as a litany repeated from generation to generation.
Our purpose is dead!
Perhaps, shot back the first. Perhaps not. It may be these Vraad who provide what the masters sought.
“What?” Dru blurted out. He cursed himself even as he spoke. The debate had already given him an insight far greater than he could have hoped and now he had brought himself back to their attention.
All of them must be returned to their places with their minds cleansed. This was a new voice.
The first voice, the one who seemed most commanding of the unseen beings, replied, The Sheeka and the Quel cannot be cleansed of their knowledge so easily. Neither can we touch the elves here, who serve as we do, though they do not know why. Would you have us interfere more than we have already?
There is no real choice! the sinister third voice said, cutting off any other response. It is time we took control!
No!
Dru screamed and clutched the sides of his head in vain as he sought release from the multitude of shouting voices vibrating through his mind. He collapsed against the chair he had been seated in.
Are you ill? Have we damaged you? It was the first voice again, concern weighing heavy in its tone.
The concern so startled Dru that he almost forgot his pain. “I’m… well… as well as can be expected.”
We did not wish to cause pain. Despite the being’s words, the Vraad thought he felt one bit of dissension among the ranks at this statement. He did not have to hazard a guess as to which one of his odd captors it was.
“Where am I?” Dru asked, deciding it was time to take control of the situation, if possible.
In one of the many pieces of the world that the masters cut free. It was never used so we thought it best to bring you here.
“And the—I find it hard to talk to nothing! Can you show yourself to me?” He pictured in his mind something akin to the rubble-grown wolf. “Not quite like that, please.”
There was hesitation… underlined by worry, the anxious spellcaster noted. Very well.
Something glittered before him. Slowly, Dru made out two golden orbs and the faint outline of some great beast. The shape looked vaguely familiar, but he could not place where he had seen it.
It is the dragon lord you came across in the old ones’ first city,
where they lived when there were many. I took the form because you admired it. I will add scent if you like.
Dru recalled the smell of the Tezerenees’ many wyverns and drakes. “The form will suffice.”
The mock dragon dipped its half-seen head. You wished to know of the others. They sleep.
“Even…”
Even the enigma you call Darkhorse. He is not a creation of the old ones. He is from the rim areas between the Void, as you call it, and the true world. We did not recognize this until now.
“Why have you chosen me?”
The shadowy form moved, spreading wings that were and were not there. You are closest to the masters. The Sheeka—you call them “Seekers”—have not become what they should have. Soon, they will join the Quel in the list of failures. Then there will be nothing left.
Dru wanted to stand, but he was not certain there was actually a floor on which to do so. He squirmed uneasily on the chair. “The Seekers control this world?”
The greatest of the continents.
“You make it sound as if you put them there.”
He could almost see the being shake its head. The masters set such in operation. They made the tiny worlds so that when the turn came, each would open again unto this, the true world. They hoped that one would prove a successor to their own kind.
The creature had informed him of everything in a simple, unattached manner, which was why its words did not penetrate immediately. Dru sat still as the impact of what his captor had said burrowed its way into his mind.
You understand correctly. The places from which the Sheeka, the Quel, and even you originated are slices of this world.
“Nimth… Nimth isn’t… isn’t real?” Not possible! the sorcerer wanted to shout. The birthplace of the Vraad a falsehood? A… zoo?
He could sense the sadness around him, a sadness that deepened his own horror at what he had come to realize. The mighty Vraad race had risen to supremacy of a cage, another race’s toy!
Not so, the ghostly dragon emphasized. Not a cage. More of a birthing place for the masters’ successors. They were old; their race was tired. The masters wanted to leave behind a legacy, so they took from their own and worked to make them better. Then they set them in worlds of their own and let each grow. See it as it was.
The dragon sank completely into the darkness and was replaced by a tiny image that expanded gradually, filling more and more of Dru’s vision until he actually felt he was standing in another place, in another time. In some ways, it was like communicating with the Seekers, save that what Dru saw was not forced upon him. He could accept it or not.
He had no intention of refusing such an opportunity.
There were beings he could call human and many he would not have guessed could ever have been. The ancient race had chosen every conceivable variation they could think of, some of which even Dru, who had witnessed much over his gray life, found so revolting he was astonished that they even lived.
Many attempts did not. There were scores of empty little worlds, worlds created by slicing reality itself. Each had once housed a hope, but those hopes had died for one reason or another, sometimes in great wars that destroyed everything. More than a few were judged failures even if the race within survived; the elders had searched for certain traits among their children. Eventually, most of those failures destroyed themselves, only one had not… so far.
Dru knew without asking that Nimth was the one failure that had, up until now, not succeeded in destroying itself completely. The time was nearing, however.
“What about those that succeeded?”
There were those that matured to the second stage, the mock dragon responded. Images of various civilizations passed before Dru. He recognized only two. The Seekers and their enemy, the armadillolike beings called the Quel.
“But you said…
They have failed. The Quel hang on, but nothing more. They will never rise to greatness again. The Seekers have begun their own descent. Their arrogance and communal thinking make them unwilling to face ultimate change. As for the elves… they will survive and aid us, but they lack the drive to become what they are capable of becoming. Because of that, they are lost to the plan as well.
“And we have also failed you.”
Perhaps. Perhaps not. With time…
With time, they, too, will fade, the one who chilled Dru’s spirit whispered.
Their death knell has begun already, added the fourth voice.
Dru shook his head, trying to clear away the confusing echoes within.
Not so! the mock dragon overwhelmed his counterparts. There is still time.
We have interfered enough, the fourth countered, but uncertainly now.
Give me leave to do what must be done….
The sorcerer found himself in the midst of darkness again as the entities evidently discussed something not for his ears.
So many questions continued to clamor for answers, but Dru doubted he would ever learn everything. Still…
His musings were forgotten as the world returned.
The sun was in the sky, a brilliant, burning orb that the mage had never thought to see again.
The Seekers who came here have been taken care of. You will think of them no longer. It was the first voice, but there was no sign of the dragon form.
It will not be needed for this short time. You will listen, Dru Zeree of the Vraad. A wind picked up as the being spoke. I have removed the one called Darkhorse from this place and returned it to its own domain. It should have never come here. It does not belong.
“He did nothing to harm you!”
A strong gust blew a cloud of dirt into Dru’s face, blinding him and causing him to choke for a few seconds.
It… he… has not been harmed. We have merely placed him where he should be. His presence was only one more catalyst for chaos in something we have been commanded to preserve.
“You interfere quite easily for something that isn’t supposed to interfere!” the Vraad snapped. Darkhorse had aided him, had saved him several times. To be so carelessly removed was unfair to the ebony creature.
I leave you the elf, Vraad. That is all I can do for you. That your kind have breached their boundaries is a matter of importance. I must study what can be done to return things to what they were. If the Vraad are to succeed, they must follow the path set by the old ones.
Dru could not resist one more barb before his benefactor departed. “Things as they were? Complete collapse of your masters’ hopes is all that remains if you steer things back that way. We’re entering this world at this very moment. It’s too late to turn things back!”
A mocking laugh made the embittered sorcerer start. He knew it was not the laugh of the servant he had been speaking to. He knew which of the entities now enjoyed his discomfort.
It will be easier than you think!
He was alone in his mind again. Around him, the wind died abruptly, a sign that the guardians had abandoned him.
A moan behind him reminded Dru that he had been promised someone who could guide him.
“You… you are not an elf or one of those monsters, are you?”
The Vraad turned to his new companion. “Obviously not, as you can see.”
She was slighter than the dead female he had seen earlier, but identical in appearance otherwise. Her hair was bound back. Her eyes scoured his form, at last resting on his visage. Dru doubted that it was because she found him attractive.
“You are Vraad.”
He looked at her with renewed interest. “How did you know that?”
The elf rose, doubling the distance between them as she did. Loathing coated her words. “We thought we had left you behind forever! Now all of our work is for nothing! There’s nowhere left to hide! No hope of turning this insane sorcerer’s experiment in our favor!”
A knife materialized from her left hand. She had moved so quickly, Dru would have almost sworn it was magic.
“I will still get the satisfaction o
f killing you, though!”
XIII
I’VE GIVEN UP my future… and for what? The imbecilic child of an outsider!
Gerrod knelt behind a ridge on the outskirts of Melenea’s domain. She could not possibly know he was so near, not if his calculations based on his brother’s work were correct. This region would be in the midst of one of the greatest instabilities existing, nearly as great as the area where the fool Dru Zeree had vanished. Already, the hooded Tezerenee had caught glimpses of a ghostly elsewhere that he knew had to be the shrouded realm intruding into Nimth. Would that his father’s so-called Dragonrealm would fully overwhelm the decaying world. Then, at least that problem would be solved.
It would still not solve the Vraad problem concerning colonizing a land that Gerrod felt wanted nothing to do with his kind… and that was likely why he had finally, in the hours since his last words with his mother, chosen to stay clear of the city. Missing the cross-over had likely cost him his life, yet he had not cared enough to abandon his plan to rescue Zeree’s daughter.
There were more reasons than that. A matter of honor probably held as much sway as his insane fear of the land beyond the veil. His progenitor had questioned his abilities, and like any good Tezerenee, he had fallen into the trap of honor. He had gone out to redeem himself even if it meant his end.
Gerrod swore under his breath. He could go around and around with his reasons, some of which even he would have admitted were complete mysteries, but that would not remove Sharissa Zeree from the ministrations of the viperous Lady Melenea.
“Masterrr Gerrod!” Beside him, crouched low, was Sirvak. The familiar was in what seemed to the warlock a constant state of frenzied anxiousness. “She could be dead! She could be dead!”
“She’s not, Sirvak. Now be quiet.” He was, admittedly, a bit uncertain himself. Things had taken much longer than he would have liked. Day, such as it was, had returned to Nimth before he was confident enough of his own plan. All of it had depended on just how well the temptress’s home was being affected by the instabilities.
“It must be as physical as possible,” he reminded Sirvak. “Trust sorcery only when needed.” Sirvak, out of necessity, had drawn first strike. It could fly. Gerrod would have to trust to small teleports and simple running.
Legends of the Dragonrealm, Vol. II Page 50
