Resurrection Of The Fallen

by Jessamyn Kingley

  “Arch Lich, what is it I can do for you today?”

  “Can the crap, Jael. You know why I’m here,” Chander replied.

  “I assume you are referring to the large trunk you claim belongs to you.”

  “Since I created it and I’m the only one who can open the damn thing I would definitely say it belongs to me.”

  “Do not misunderstand. My father never mentioned it. I didn’t even know it existed until I got your letter.”

  “But once I wrote to you, you found it. Am I right? Then you realized it might be worth something, so you started jerking my chain.”

  “I am not simple. It’s big and it looks very old. I know it has value,” Jael said.

  “It’s priceless.”

  “Then you can understand why I am reluctant to let it go without compensation. It’s obvious you were unable to meet my father’s price, which is why it is still in my possession.”

  “Your father was a first-class asshole who knew not only what it was but its value as well. We had an agreement, and he was supposed to turn it over to me more than five hundred years ago.”

  Jael sniffed. “My father was a man of his word, and he hated you. I doubt he would have had any type of agreement with you.”

  “He hated me because he knew he was not my match and neither are you. If you’d like to find out how much disparity lies between us, by all means, continue this little game you are playing,” Chander suggested.

  “How dare you come into my home and insult me in this way. You are on land owned by the Consilium Veneficus, and no one from the Council of Sorcery and Shifters is welcome here. And that goes double for you since you are the one who double-crossed my father and sold the Council to that dragon.”

  “I assume you mean the current Emperor, and I would have sold the Council to a rat before I would have given it to your father. He cared about one thing only and that was himself. Now, are you going to tell me where my box is, or am I going to have to reduce this place to a pile of rubble so I can locate it quickly and get the hell out of here?”

  “We’ve already destroyed one building today; it wouldn’t be a problem leveling this pile of stones. In fact, I think I have a bit of a fever for demolition. I vote you don’t tell us so we can add another notch to our belts,” Benton said.

  “I do not take kindly to threats.”

  Chander pulled his magic inward and let it flow out from his feet. The books on the shelves began to vibrate and the gaudy statues on the mantle rattled against the marble. Jael looked around the room with wild eyes. “You still think it’s a threat, Jael?”

  “It’s in the basement. You’ll have to go get it yourself,” he blurted out.

  “Fine, you try anything and I will get my box and still raze your castle. I have no wish to spend my day fighting a bunch of idiot wizards,” Chander retorted.

  “Oh no, I trust you to go down and get your box.”

  “Good, lead the way,” Benton invited.

  “Surely you can find it without my assistance?”

  “Move, wizard,” Benton ordered.

  With some reluctance, Jael led them down into a part of the castle that hadn’t been modernized. It was as if time stood still, and Chander was relieved when Conley’s skull-covered box finally came into view. Without bothering to say another word to their host, Chander put his hand over a silver skull and teleported himself and Conley back to his condo in Las Vegas. Benton materialized next to him a second later.

  “Hot damn, Chand! We got Conley back!” Benton exclaimed.

  A wide grin spread on Chander’s face. “I can’t believe it. After all this time.”

  “Aren’t you going to open the box?”

  “Not yet. Drystan doesn’t know who Conley is, and he doesn’t believe any of the stories about him being the previous emperor. We’re going to have to wait until it’s time to resurrect the next batch of fallen knights.”

  “Shit, that’s like ten months from now.”

  “I know. Good thing we never have any visitors; it’d be hard to explain this giant box in the living room.”

  “How can we invite anyone over when this place is a disaster? Oh, and you literally don’t ever stop working,” Benton said, waving his hand to encompass the mismatched furniture, heaps of books stacked on every available surface, and the dust that covered all of it.

  Chander’s mouth thinned. “Guests aren’t really high on my priorities.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Anyway, we just have to keep this under wraps until I can unlock Conley from stasis without Drystan suspecting anything weird.”

  “Man, he’s going to be thrilled to meet his mate.”

  “Let’s just hope if their memories return when they have their mating ceremony that they don’t decide to kill me for separating them in the first place.”

  “You have two sentinels. No one is going to kill you.”

  “Not even if I deserve it?”

  “Chand, you think it was a mistake to separate them. I get it, but you have done everything you can to reunite them, and they’d both still be dead if you hadn’t resurrected them in the first place.”

  Chander had too many things to do to allow guilt to swamp him, so he did his best to shake it off, but the bone-deep shame never really left. “I’ll just hide behind you and let you explain all that should it be necessary.”

  “What are sentinels for?” Benton said with a laugh.

  Chander grinned back and then headed down the hall to his office. As usual, there were piles of work waiting for him and they would only grow if he ignored them. Not that the prospect of more bothered him; it was impossible to deal with his issues if he stayed busy all the time. Which is why he rarely stopped, not even to eat or sleep on most occasions. It might not be a happy existence, but it was a productive one.

  Chapter 24

  Ten Months Later, Council of Sorcery and Shifters Headquarters, Main Assembly Hall

  Reverent Knight Drystan Kempe leaned back in his chair and waited for the elves to make their way up to the podium. Council leader Emperor Chrysander Draconis had just called forward Chieftain Lorcan Acwellan-D’Vaire, Chieftain-mate Talfryn Acwellan-D’Vaire, and Chieftain Cadlyr Cwylld-D’Vaire to speak.

  “Your Majesty, my mate and I are asking for the Acwellan to be officially recognized as a Council elven tribe,” Chieftain Lorcan said.

  “Your Majesty, I am asking for the Cwylld tribe to be officially recognized as well. We have filed together as all of us live in the sanctuary known as Dra’Kaedan’s Coven, which is under jurisdiction of the Draconis Court of D’Vaire overseen by King Aleksander D’Vairedraconis. Our petition is not for voting rights. We do not require land or benefits, we simply do not wish for our tribes to fall into extinction.”

  “Chieftains, thank you for being here today. Your petition has been filed for all our distinguished Council leaders to view. Ladies and gentlemen of the Council, do you have any questions for the representatives of the Acwellan and Cwylld tribes?” Emperor Chrysander asked.

  “I fear, Your Majesty, it would be unfair to consider the Cwylld. Their thirst for battle annihilated the Coven of Warlocks who founded this Council,” Aloisa the Dwyer stated. Drystan nearly smiled; didn’t the woman see the Grand Warlock sitting behind the banner of his people?

  “Grand Warlock, would you care to respond to the question from the Circle of Druids?” the Emperor asked.

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. I certainly would. Chieftain Cadlyr and his brother, Chieftain-mate Talfryn, are well-respected members of the D’Vaire family, which includes all known living warlocks. It was my parents who began this Council, and it was the former chieftains of the Cwylld who carried out a nearly complete genocide of my people. But the sins of the former chieftains need not be paid by any of the remaining Cwylld. The Coven of Warlocks has no objection to the addition of either the Cwylld or the Acwellan,” Grand Warlock Dra’Kaedan D’Vaire said with a slight bite in his tone
Drystan may have only recognized because he was such a frequent visitor to the D’Vaire home. The others in the room may have heard nothing at all beyond the words themselves.

  “Your Majesty, it is my understanding the Acwellan tribe have the blood of demons. Does their special ability to tear apart matebonds not pose an inherent threat to our way of life? Nothing is more sacred than meeting and bonding with the other half of your soul; it is unacceptable to find anyone is willing to destroy that,” the chieftain of the Tristis elves said.

  “Chieftain Lorcan, are your people capable of destroying matebonds?” the Emperor asked.

  “Your Majesty, to my knowledge there is a spell that can break the matebond between a pair who have not yet shared blood or bite. It is my understanding it is only possible when there is a lack of feeling between the two parties involved and it requires the agreement of both as well,” Lorcan replied.

  “Chieftain, have you ever cast the spell?” Artair Ursus Arctos, the leader of the brown bears, asked.

  “Alpha Ursus Arctos, I have not. Nor have I witnessed it but there have been stories passed down from previous generations of Acwellan.”

  “Reverent Knight, do you not feel as if this should be outlawed to preserve our way of life?” the leader of the Tristis elves asked.

  “Chieftain, I do not make laws. I enforce them. If you wish to outlaw the ability of two Acwellan elves who live in a remote fortified sanctuary then I suggest you put together a bill and allow this Council to decide if it is necessary,” Drystan drawled out.

  “Your Majesty, can we at the very least seal our proceedings today so this spell does not become public knowledge?” the elf persisted.

  “If I may answer, Your Majesty?” Prism Wizard Vadimas Porfyra asked and after the Emperor gave him the go-ahead said, “The spell in question has been a matter of public record for time eternal. Legends told of the ability though we did not know until Chieftain Lorcan joined D’Vaire that demons were real, but there is no denying something every educated sorcerer has already been taught.”

  “Your Majesty, perhaps we could seal the record and prohibit anyone from divulging the Acwellan have demonic blood?” Aloisa the Dwyer asked.

  “It is my understanding all the ancient elven tribes have stories about the origins of the Acwellan,” Chrysander replied. “Is that not right, Chieftain Lorcan?”

  “Your Majesty, it is true. We have faced persecution from countless tribes and despite that, I would still be unwilling to disguise what it is to be Acwellan. We are proud of our differences and celebrate them. We will not hide.”

  “As it should be, Chieftain Lorcan. For as long as dragons have existed, humans have asked us to turn away. We will never surrender our very identities. That is not what dragons or this Council stands for. If there are no remaining issues, we will ask the chieftains to step out so we may call for a vote. Grand Warlock, I must ask that you recuse yourself from casting a ballot,” Emperor Chrysander said.

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Dra’Kaedan responded before he stood and exited. After the chieftains left the room, the vote was called for. Drystan leaned over the tablet on his wide circular desk and cast his ballot to allow the Acwellan and Cwylld tribes to be officially recognized.

  * * *

  That afternoon, Drystan changed into his more casual uniform and was on his way to the Office of the Emperor. The next day, he was set to head to the training site of the Order of the Fallen Knights where he would be for the remainder of the week to welcome their newly resurrected soldiers. Once he was waved through the security gates manned by dragons, Drystan took the private elevator which led to Chrysander’s headquarters.

  Striding down the hall after arriving at the top floor, Drystan made his way to the reception desk.

  “Hey Wesley, would you let Chrys know I’m here?”

  “Of course, Reverent Knight,” the Emperor’s Office Manager replied.

  “Drystan, get in here,” Duke Zane Draconis invited after opening the door to Chrys’s office. Drystan followed Zane into the room and then greeted him, Chrysander, and the Emperor’s twin brother Imperial Duke Damian Draconis.

  “What’s up?” Damian asked after they were all seated around Chrysander’s desk.

  “You mean in the last hour since I saw you in the cafeteria?” Drystan asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh, piss off.”

  “Before we get started on the logistics for the annual dragon fair, I got another letter from Australia,” Chrysander said.

  “That’s funny because I don’t know anyone in Australia,” Drystan retorted.

  “You know who it’s from,” Chrysander replied.

  “My answers are the same as always.”

  “It might be easier if we just settle this once and for all,” Damian suggested.

  “Give me a break. It’s not my fault some dragons—who aren’t even a part of this Council I might add—have some wild-ass theory I’m a dead emperor.”

  “They aren’t a part of the Council because you refused to cooperate two centuries ago when your Council of Sorcery invited the dragons after several hundred years of little or no contact. King and Queen Beradraconis claim they saw you at one of the many parties we had back then as we assimilated the Council into both magickind and shifters and that you look exactly like their son, the former Emperor Drystan. They wanted to meet with you privately, but you said no,” Chrysander reminded him.

  “Look, so some servant claimed the bodies of the former emperors were stolen. No one else has ever backed the story up. The former Imperial Duke flat out called it a lie. Chand says it didn’t happen. My name was chosen as a tribute to the guy; that doesn’t mean I was him before I became a fallen knight,” Drystan replied. He was so sick and tired of hearing about the former dragon emperors.

  “My father was a traitor. There isn’t anything he ever said anyone should trust,” Duke Zane remarked. “If I hadn’t been so severely injured when his dukes turned on him and lost my memory of everything before that, I might be able to shed some light on the subject, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a DNA test and see if there’s any truth to it.”

  “Don’t apologize for nearly being murdered, Zane,” Drystan began. “One unverified story from a servant isn’t enough to make me cough up my DNA. No Juris Knight or court would ever make a person submit to one based on hearsay from over six centuries ago.”

  “They also point to the fact that you are the only fallen knight in history to be able to father a child. Resurrected people shouldn’t have that ability, but it makes sense if your body was at hand you would be more intact shall we say than the rest of your brethren,” Damian said.

  Drystan couldn’t help his sigh. “You know my resurrection was different. Vann, Roman, and I were resurrected first and Chand had the help of all the Council leaders. The rest were born from a necromancer alone. When I spoke to Chand about my desire to adopt a child, he suggested I get tested to see if I could have one. Vann and Roman may be able to father them as well. But you know Vann is too busy being a kid himself to raise one, and Roman has always spent too much time chasing his conquests to settle down and care for a baby.”

  “They’ve never been tested?”

  “Not to my knowledge. Look, I’m sorry King and Queen Beradraconis lost their son. I really am. But if I were Emperor Drystan, would someone mind telling me where the hell my mate is? The love story of the former emperors is legendary, so why would there only be a single Reverent Knight?”

  “Good question. Have you ever asked Chand or any of the other Council leaders who were there when you were resurrected?” Zane asked.

  “Magus Superus Jurdann died before we became the Council of Sorcery and Shifters. Arch Wizard Egidius passed away a few years ago and before that, he wouldn’t talk to me since he hated my stinking guts once he realized I wasn’t his damn pawn. Killian the Dwyer. Does anyone even know where he lives? The man has been a hermit ever since he handed over his duties to his sister.”

/>   “In a tree,” Damian replied.

  “What?” Drystan asked.

  “Killian the Dwyer. He lives in a tree,” Damian explained.

  “I’m beginning to think everyone in this Council is insane,” Drystan announced.

  “I always thought you were really smart. How did it take you so long to figure that out?” Damian asked.

  “Anyway, you’ve spoken with Chand about this at length I am sure,” Chrysander said.

  “Of course, it’s been an ongoing discussion for the last two hundred years—ever since I first heard of Emperor Drystan. I’d like to smack Chand now for giving me the name. I know the former emperors were a big deal to all dragons and I can respect that but the whole thing is nothing but a nuisance to me,” Drystan responded.

  “Emperor Drystan and Emperor Conley changed dragons and shifters in general. They ruled for a very brief time but managed to create a separate fund to help small kingdoms. Today, that little fund is known as Draconis Enterprises and we are the richest Council race. Emperor Erhard before them started an annual dragon fair which was ended before his death, but they expanded upon the idea and though they didn’t live to attend it, their ideas are still the basis for what is the height of dragon events,” Chrysander began. “Every other shifter community has copied their model of both incorporating a business to benefit those in need and hosts a yearly get-together. They were the first same-sex shifters to rule and opened the door for acceptance, though I will admit there are still some shifter communities, including some small dragon kingdoms, that need further enlightenment.”

  “I’ve been to the Draconis Museum. I know all that,” Drystan grumbled.

  “It is said their love was absolute. They were rarely seen apart. As dragons, Emperor Drystan is said to have been so black as to soak up sunlight and Emperor Conley the rich gold of his crown. He was the first and last gold dragon. They were the epitome of everything we hold dear as dragons. They also represent the darkest stain upon our honor. Yes, it was reportedly humans in the castle the night of their deaths but it was arranged by the very men who had sworn to protect our leaders. Even if they had been terrible rulers, I would have seen their memory immortalized for that alone but they were incredible, especially when you consider how little time they had. I implore you to always wear your name with pride.”