"If she had made the choice to renounce her gifts, they could have lived as a family. Is that not better for all of them?" asked Gabriel.
Elos, who had been standing quietly by, stepped forward. "Elves are known for their gifts. Master Benzoete, is one of three Grand High Wizards left in all Amundiss. I am but his apprentice in the Light. If the magic possessed in their bloodline passed to their half-blood child, he would have been taken from them to train. The Elven Order of Magic would have not given them a choice. George would have been taken to Eska'Taurn. With the choice your grandmother made, he was guaranteed to know at least one parent, instead of risking him being taken from both. Very few of our race still possess the power of the magics."
"George was watched very carefully, but he never showed signs of his elvish side being present," Benzoete explained. "The elven order of magics made sure he was human dominant." He twirled the dagger in his hand. "This dagger was a gift from the old gods to my father's father; it was forged in the flames of the high elves by the Gods, given as a token of their love. It has been passed down to each generation and used in the great War of the Gods that sent Craotonus into exile. It has seen many years in the hands of high elves, and now it is proudly in your possession, my child."
Benzoete waved his hand and made a bookshelf slide to one side. As the shelf shifted, books fell to the floor, forcing a cloud of dust up. Zachery's eyes widened for hidden behind the shelf was a hollowed-out portion of the wall. Inside the hole in the wall was something very unusual. Zachery's first thought was a giant lizard, bigger than he had ever seen running around the farmhouse. As he stepped closer, he could see rows of sharp teeth leading up to the hollow eye sockets of a once majestic beast: a real dragon skull.
"Dragons hold a special magic within them, even after death. They are fierce fighting creatures that cannot easily be tamed," Benzoete told them.
Antoine laughed, "You speak of them as if they still exist. We all know the fables. The last ones were killed over three-thousand years ago!"
Benzoete stared coldly at Antoine. "Yes, where do you think this skull came from? Your people, Humans, destroy all things they do not understand. Dragons need leaders, a rider to control them."
Antoine slapped his knee. "Dragon Riders were a myth mothers told their children to calm them before bed. Magical protectors of the realm! No man has ever had the power to control a dragon!"
Elos stepped toward Antoine, clenching his fists to hold back his anger. "You are correct, no mere human could ever harness the power of a Dragon Rider; the High Elves were the original riders. Elves and dragons shared a connection, and if the elf had the rider's bloodline, they were as one. These magical creatures were beautiful to behold and deadly to oppose."
Zachery shouted to get the adults attention. "What does this have to do with me? I am not special. I know both my parents and they are just simple farmers."
The room fell silent. They knew they did not need to fight amongst themselves.
Benzoete came to him, leaned down and looked him in the eyes. "Dear boy, everyone is special. That is the one thing humans seem to forget. Alas, in your situation, I believe you are more than you think. We believe the magic skipped your father and lies dormant inside of you.
“That is what drew Dori'naur to your garden. He believed it was the champion's home. Come, take the dagger. Insert it into skull of the dragon. Find the slot in the top, just behind where the eyes once were. Close your eyes and concentrate on what brings you happiness. Let the Light wash over you and feel what the beast is telling you."
Zachery stepped up to the skull. He found the opening and traced it with his finger. As he brought the blade closer, the eyes started glowing. He shoved the blade in up to the hilt. Grasping the handle with both hands, he closed his eyes and thought of home. His father, mother, even his sister, that is where he wanted to be most of all.
"Home. I just want to go home. To sleep in my own bed and smell my mother's cooking in the morning." Those were the people Zachery wanted to protect most.
Benzoete stood behind him, chanting in an elvish tongue. The eyes of the skull glowed brighter red; a light aura shone around the room giving the dust the appearance of flames. Suddenly, a vision of the Morely farm appeared in Zachery’s head and he smiled. Zachery released the handle and stepped back. Home. Home with his family is what made him happy. All the years of yearning for adventure, and home was what simply excited him now. The group stood as one, in awe of what they had just seen, no doubt wondering the same thing: did this mean Zachery was to be a wizard?
"Very good, Zachery. Now, I am certain you are the one." Benzoete took the dagger from the skull and presented it back to him.
"I am the one, for what? What does all this mean?" he asked.
Benzoete flashed a warm smile at him. "You carry the blood of the Rider. You will protect the Champion of Light until your power, and his, is at full strength. Your powers combined will defeat the demons and save our world from extinction. The blood of the heavens will free us from this terror. As for the rest of us, we will endure many hardships as the journey will be long. Our mission is clear, survival. Your mission, my young Morely, is to protect and hide."
The old wizard turned Zachery to face the others in the room. "Behold! The line is intact once more. I give you, the Dragon Rider!"
Me, a Dragon Rider? My head spun out of control when I heard this. The only good thing inside my thoughts that day was seeing Morely Farm again, even if it was in a vision. All this was hard to comprehend, especially that my grandfather was a High Elf wizard!
10
Dori'naur Keeps His Word
At castle Whitehold, Dori'naur spread fear among the people. Anyone who spoke against him as the new king and ruler found themselves with cold steel against their necks. The men were put into his army and sent to other realms; if they opposed they were beaten until submission or death; either served Dori'naur's liking, while the women and children were used as servants or spies. Any others were used for sport and his amusement. When the demon grew bored, he would have the good people of Whitehold fight each other to the death as he watched.
"You puny sacks of bone are worthless. One slice, and you bleed everywhere. I need entertainment! Find me someone who can fight!" Dori'naur bellowed out to his servants.
If the people would not fight, he would have them slowly tortured and killed as everyone was forced to watch. Somehow, George and Elizabeth managed to stay away from the demon during all of his misdeeds. Keeping to the back towers and remote storage shacks behind the castle, they kept a small group of refugees on the move, trying to stay ahead of Dori'naur's sight. George felt he had a responsibility to keep as many people safe as possible, which meant keeping them from the demon's army and out of the clutches of the ones who followed him out of fear.
From behind a pillar leading to the kitchen, George whispered to Elizabeth, "How many more came in today?"
"I counted twenty. Mostly scared women and children," she answered.
George shook his head in disbelief. "Try to talk to them. We must get as many away from here as soon as we can. I fear if we stay much longer, we may fall to the demon, or worse, Launa could."
The Morelys hid as many people as they could, but it seemed more and more came from other towns and realms daily. Dori'naur's army ransacked small villages and brought the survivors to fill ranks wherever needed. Any women found to be with child was brought directly to him. The things done to these women were horrible.
"I see you are with child. Who were your parents?" Dori'naur asked.
"Just simple folk, your Grace. I beg you, don't hurt my baby!" The woman said, clearly distraught.
Dori'naur ran a cold, crusted finger along her belly, studying her child from the outside in. The woman trembled with fear.
"Is it you Champion?" Dori'naur asked as his finger pierced her stomach. The woman screamed in pain and fright. Blood flowed down his hand and puddled on the floor. "Bah! You are not the ves
sel!" He sent the woman flying with a smash from the back of his hand.
George and his refugees knew they had a long journey ahead of them while the champion grew in strength, but they had faith. Faith that their world would be saved, and the demon would be sent back to the hell from where he came. Faith was a big word for George and Elizabeth because they had to keep their trust in Gabriel to keep Zachery safe. Little did they know it would be their son doing the saving.
My father may not have had the magical powers of the High Elves, but he did possess some rare and unique traits: bravery, compassion, and love for his fellow man.
DORI'NAUR STOOD BEFORE his army and gave the command. "Bring me the head of this Queen and rewards will be yours! Fail me and you will feel my thorns from the inside out!"
Dori'naur was a force never dealt with before, not at least in this century. The people could hardly withstand this much punishment. Everything was coming together just as the demon had planned. "Soon, I will sacrifice the vessel of the Champion of Light, open the pathway for my brother, and bring this world to its knees." He said as he sat on the king's throne.
Dori'naur hefted the skull of one of the villagers in his hand, looked straight into its eye sockets. "I told them this world would be ours for the taking," he cackled. "They could not destroy us the first time, and now the High Elves are scattered. I will find the vessel and end her life. Without the Champion, the Heavens will fall to our master."
Dori'naur brought pain and destruction to every realm, with little effort. Faith, hope, and the willingness to survive was all the people had. They had to persevere. George kept the illusion of loyalty to Dori’naur to avoid his family's heads on spikes. Why was the demon so obsessed with death?
These were good people. We were determined to stop this suffering. We needed the Light to shine again over every being of this world.
Dori'naur had decided his castle needed a few upgrades. The once very proud and noble throne of King Gabriel was now adorned with the skulls of his people. Hundreds of skulls lined the structure spilling out across the floor like a carpet. The walls were now coated red with the blood of Whitehold's citizens. He covered the king's family crest with the skull and crossbones of Xavier, the king's adviser. As a lesson to the others in loyalty, he left poor Xavier's face intact, showing the fear the old man had at the time of his demise.
"This! This is a throne room fit for a ruler! This is the throne of a true king and champion!" Dori'naur boasted.
The new army of the demon flooded the realms and brought back stories of fear. The news of Dori'naur swept over the lands like wildfire. The people were afraid, and his fear is what seemed to fuel him in his ways of evil. There was a method to his madness; he was preparing the world for something even greater than himself. A force thought to be gone long ago. "Soon, revenge will fall on those who wronged us. The Heavens will shake at our feet." Dori'naur said as he smashed the skull against the wall.
The lives of so many had already been lost. Amundiss had been cast into a dark and dangerous time. The Light was needed more than ever.
11
A Visit from Beyond
The Book of the Ancients was a worn, cracked, dusty old book, not beautiful by any means. It had been passed down through the centuries by the elven wizards. Written by the hands of the Gods themselves, it has proven to be a worthy guide for the High Elves.
Benzoete ran his crooked fingers along the leather cover and a smile emerged on his face with the memory of his mother reading to him from these very pages rushing through his mind. He opened it up to a section of pages and enumerated his plan.
"Zachery and the queen are not safe here, nor in any region or realm we might choose to go to in this world. I have used the Book of the Ancients and Waters of Life to search for a place that will serve as a safe haven."
Antoine asked, "You say they are not safe in this world. What does that mean?"
"I have used the Book of the Ancients to search the Waters of Life and found a new world that will nurture them both while they harness their powers,” Benzoete explained. “It will provide protection from Dori'naur and his forces. I trust the people in this room. No one else can know of this plan. I will use the book as a map, then open a portal to the new world."
"How will we fit in this new world? Will we be in danger from the people there?" Zachery asked.
"Yes, should one of us go with them to help protect them there?" asked Gabriel.
Benzoete shook his head. "No, we need everyone else here. This world is much like our own, except they have yet to harness magic. That is a good thing. Without magic, it will be very difficult for Dori'naur to locate them. They will blend in nicely and not cause alarm, if they keep out of sight when communicating back here and during the boy's training. I fear if we fail in killing the demon brethren, they will target this world next. The brethren fought during the War of the Gods. They are ruthless and unmerciful. Our wizards could barely hold them back then. With our ranks almost extinct we need the Champion of Light. We will need his power to defeat them."
Not only was our world at stake, but the fate of these good people hung in the balance of our success. The weight of responsibility that hung on me then, and my then fifteen seasons old shoulders was heavy. I could feel the fear and doubt swell inside me waiting to burst.
Gabriel had a concerned look on his face. "How will we explain the Queen's whereabouts when the demon's forces come for her?" he asked. "We have to make them believe she is still here. Keep them from finding their true location."
Elos looked to his master, and then back to the king, "We have that under control, for now. You will have to trust us."
Antoine didn't like the sound of that. "Right now, we have no choice. You are our only line of hope against this monster. We will do as you say. We are in your hands."
Benzoete clapped his hands together and smiled. "Wonderful! We will get started tomorrow." He wrapped his staff on the door loudly and called for a chambermaid. In walked a thin elvish girl dressed in white linens. "This is El'nora. She will attend to your every need. Your men downstairs are being fed and will have a warm place to rest for tonight. They must not know of this, no one can. El'nora will show you to your chambers now. If you need anything, please let her know. Try to get a peaceful night's rest, you will need it."
Antoine leaned close to Gabriel's ear, "Was she standing guard at the door, or trying to listen?"
"She did enter rather quickly. She is Elven, surely she is loyal to Benzoete." Gabriel said.
With that, Benzoete and Elos exited and El'nora showed them to their rooms. She led them down a long hallway, with many doors that followed a circular pattern. One by one she opened the door, checked the bed linens, and slowly bowed her head to each all while never speaking a word, or making eye contact, acting nervous for some reason. The next morning the group would embark on a journey that no one ever thought possible.
My room was huge, nearly the size of our barn back home. Smelled a lot better, too. The walls were lined with portraits of elven leaders and bookcases filled with books I could not read. I was not used to the royal like conditions by any means, and the added pressure of what would come the next morning had me terrified. I didn't think I would be able to sleep a wink, and with what happened next, I really thought I had gone insane.
THAT NIGHT, ZACHERY lay awake wondering whether he would ever see his family again. "I pray to the old Gods and new. I pray to the fates and creators. Please keep my family safe, see them through this."
He knew the dangers that lay before him if they stayed and the dangers of an unknown new world they would have to face. Thinking of the danger all these people would face with Dori'naur and his army was unbearable. His mind began to wander and to doubt.
"How could a farm boy and an unborn child be the hope of a whole world? Or two worlds now, for that matter? I am not a warrior, or savior. I cannot defeat this demon," Zachery wondered aloud.
Not only defeating Dori'naur, but a
s well as these Brethren the demon provided the way for.
"Benzoete seemed to have confidence in me, but why? Because my grandmother was an elf? I am not trained in combat, and I doubt my skills in milking cows and feeding chickens will defeat demons." Zachery covered his face with his hands and just lay there quietly.
He was finally able to fall asleep though in a state of slumber, his mind still churned with questions. Visions of his home burned to the ground while a mad demon stood laughing at him, gave his body no rest. He tossed and turned, sweat rolling from his brow. Suddenly, from beyond his dream world, he heard a voice softly call to him.
"Zachery, wake my child." It belonged to the voice of a woman, but from where?
He rose from his bed, and wiped the sleep from his eyes, to see who had come. "Natallia, is that you?"
At the foot of his bed stood a beautiful woman with long black hair. Her skin shone like a bright, glowing light. Her voice, like that of angels, calmed his spirit and made him feel safe. She wore a white robe trimmed in gold, with a symbol of a black dragon down the sleeve. Sparkles of light twinkled around her as if she was a goddess.
"Hello, young one. My name is Valindra, I am your grandmother. I can only stay a moment before my window closes, but I need you to know your power is within you. Search diligently for it. You remind me so much of your father when he was your age."
Zachery leaned forward in his bed to get closer. He should have been frightened, but the curiosity and awe of the moment proved more powerful. Her voice soothed him, as if he already knew who she was. "How are you here?" he asked.
"I am not. It is a window of illusion. I am in the elven homeland of Eska'Taurn," Valindra explained.
"What power do I have? I'm just a child," Zachery pleaded.
Valindra winked at him. "You have the blood of the Dragon Rider. Our people were tamers of these magnificent beasts for centuries. I came to reassure you that you are the one and that all the riders doubted themselves. This is a great honor and responsibility, young one. You have a destiny; grab hold of it. My father, your great-grandfather allowed me to come to you. I do not know when or if I can again. Please tell my son, your father, that I love him from the moon and back, and he was never away from my sight. As you always will be, my child. May the Goddess watch over you."
The Bad Seed Page 5
