by Jordan Baker
"Would you permit me to examine you and your eggs?" Kroma asked.
"Examine me?" Vale cocked an eye at him.
"I will use my power to see if you have been poisoned," he told her. "May I do this?"
"Poisoned? How could I be poisoned?"
"The flows have been corrupted," Kroma told her. "It is a matter of grave concern, yet the dragon elders have chosen to ignore it."
"And you think this could affect the clutch?"
"It is possible that this is the cause," Kroma said.
"His words ring true, Vale," Vana told her daughter. "Something is wrong among our kind and the elders refuse to consider it. They have now threatened to declare me a wildling if I persist any further."
"They would not do such a thing," Vale said, but she heard the truth in her mother's thoughts and she saw it in the eyes of the young man who spoke to her with the voice of a god.
"May I?" he asked, his voice rich and soothing.
"What must you do?"
"I merely need to place my hand upon you and feel with my power to see if you have been exposed to the poison among the flows."
"That is all?"
"That is all."
"Would it be easier if I took your form?"
"It would," Kroma said and Vale sighed, then her large dragon body began to shift, becoming smaller and changing until she looked almost like a human girl around the same age as Brian. At the sight of her naked form, Brian felt the blood rush to his cheeks and he looked away, a little embarrassed. "Forgive my young friend, I believe he finds you most attractive in this form."
Vale smiled tiredly, revealing a row of pointed teeth and short fangs, and Brian could not help but notice that her eyes had kept some of their dragon qualities.
"If I may?" Kroma asked and Vale nodded.
Brian blushed even more when Kroma turned back to look at her, sparing no modesty, then he stepped toward her and placed his hand low upon her abdomen. Brian felt the power of the god within him begin to move almost imperceptibly, like a soft, low rhythm. Vale exhaled at the sensation of it and she grabbed onto Brian's arm, her long nails digging into his flesh in the gaps in the armor he wore.
"This is not painful, I hope?" Kroma asked.
"No, it is not painful," she replied, and she leaned on Brian's shoulder.
"I must touch your thoughts as well," he said. "Only briefly, and only at the surface."
"If you must," Vale said, and Kroma moved Brian's hands up to either side of her head and his power flowed more gently now. After a few moments, he put his hands on her shoulders.
"It is true," he said. "Dragonkind has been exposed to the dark power, but fear not, while it has weakened you, it does not control you."
"What about my clutch?" Vale asked.
"First, we must expel the poison from you," Kroma told her.
"Will it be like what you did before?" she asked.
"No, this will not be so easy," he said. "It may be rather unpleasant."
"Do what you must," Vale said, glancing over at her mother, who stood by silently observing.
Vale felt the young man touch her stomach and at first his hand sent powerful pulses through her as it had before, and the feeling sent shivers of pleasure right down to her center. The strength in his touch was solid, like the mountain itself and she clung to his shoulder as his power thrummed deep inside her with primordial heat like the flows, and the sensation began to change and it was no longer pleasurable, but unnerving and uncomfortable. Vale gasped as she felt something she had never felt before, like her stomach was turning upside down. She suddenly doubled over as a spike of pain shot through her, and her nails scratched across an armored shoulder.
"It is almost done," he said, his voice softer, comforting her, and she realized it was the other one, the young man speaking to her.
Vale felt something bubble up within her, almost like she would spit fire, but it was something foul and she fell to her knees, with the young man following her down, crouching beside her as she began to retch. Dark, black, viscous liquid, like tar spilled out of her mouth and onto the rocky ground, and Vale felt like she was being choked by it, but she felt his other hand on her shoulder, holding her steady as she coughed and vomited more of it. The shooting pain that ran through her entire being began to subside as she spit the last of the thick liquid onto the ground, where a pool of it had gathered. Vale gasped for breath and realized that something was different, for even though the foul taste still clung to her mouth, the air was somehow better and her senses were suddenly much sharper. She felt the power of the god subside and she rose to her feet, wiping the foulness from where it had dribbled down her chin.
"What was in me?" she asked as he removed his hand from her.
"It is an ancient poison," the god replied. "It has properties of the shadow, a deadly power that destroys all things. There is much of it in the flows, and it appears that all dragonkind has been affected by it."
Vale stretched her fingertips and felt energy coursing through her entire body.
"I feel stronger," she said, suddenly unable to contain herself. "I want to fly."
Vale looked at Brian and then at her mother, her thoughts barely apologetic, as she pulled away and set off at a run, shifting to her dragon form and disappearing from the cavern with a powerful roar. Brian suddenly felt his entire body shudder with a deep exhaustion that went right to his bones and he walked over to a small boulder and leaned against it, catching his breath.
"Are you all right?" Vana asked.
"I will be fine," Brian answered. "I think Kroma used too much of his power to do what he did. He says to give you his regrets that he cannot speak right now."
"Yet you can hear him?"
"I can," Brian said.
"Then tell me, young Brian, how is it that a once powerful god, who broke open this land as a refuge for dragonkind, who raised the dragonmount from the earth itself, has become so weak?"
"Kroma was nearly destroyed by his brother, Kenra," Brian told her. "Kenra is the god who has the power of the shadow."
"We believed the shadow had gone from the world," Vana said. "I wonder how long the flows have been poisoned."
"Kroma isn't sure, but he says it has probably been for some time," Brian told her.
"What will become of dragonkind if we can no longer visit the flows?" Vana asked. "Do I have that foulness in me?"
Brian nodded. "It is most likely that you do," he told her, as he shook his head, trying to clear his vision, which had suddenly gone dark, but slowly began to return.
"Can you remove it like you did for Vale?" Vana asked.
"It may take some time," Brian said, breathing easier now. "Kroma came here hoping that the flows would give him back some of his power, but the poison makes it a lot more difficult."
"Can he not do to the flows what he did to Vale?"
"If he still had the strength he once did, but he doesn't, and without the blood of the world, he cannot regain his power."
"But surely the blood of the world flows in other places that have not been poisoned," Vana suggested.
"Only here where it is exposed is that possible," Brian said, relaying what he had learned from the god. Just traveling through the earth to get to the dragon lands had proven far more difficult than Kroma had expected, and unless he was able to regain some measure of his power, it was already looking like they might have to find another way to leave, when the time came.
"You touched Vale's thoughts, to see if the shadow had corrupted her," Vale said. "Is it possible that some dragons may have poisoned thoughts? The elders, perhaps? Could they be under the influence of the shadow?"
"It is possible," Brian replied. "The shadow takes away your strength and your will, eventually consuming you. The poison is from the shadow and so it is similar."
"That might explain why so many of the elders have become indifferent to the world," Vana said. "Now they don't even want to consider that there might be a problem, let
alone admit one exists. Some of them are more receptive, but others might as well be deaf, they are so unwilling to hear."
"Maybe some of them are worse than others," Brian said. "It would be hard to tell how much poison they carry without examining them."
"What about the eggs?" Vana asked. "Can they be saved?"
Brian looked around the cavern and he felt Kroma sigh inwardly. Driving poison from a grown dragon was one thing, but performing such a feat on a dragon's egg would be far more difficult. Kroma's strength was returning so Brian walked over to one of them and placed his hand upon it, then he felt the power of the god flow through him, but far more gently than when he had touched Vale. He could tell that Kroma was being careful, so as not to harm the egg, but it took longer and required almost as much power as it had taken for him to discover the poison within Vale.
"This one will be fine if it is heated with truefire," he said, then he put his hand on another and repeated the process and Brian felt his own stomach lurch when he felt how wrong it was. Kroma continued, telling Vana what he had discovered. "This one is not something you would want to see. What life that may have been, has become something tragic and misshapen, and it already withers."
"I have seen it before," Vale told him. "I suffered the loss of nearly an entire clutch, and I am not the first wyvern to go through such torment. That is why I suspect this poisoning of dragonkind may have started long ago. It saddens me greatly that Vale would suffer as I did."
"I will do what I can, good lady Aledra," Kroma said, able to speak once more. "I am surprised that the eggs would not be cleansed by truefire."
"It is a rare dragon that can breathe truefire enough to warm a clutch," Vana told him.
"That was not always so." Brian felt himself frown at Kroma's frustration. "There was a time when all dragons commanded the fire of truth with ease. It was with the help of dragonkind that the gods fought the shadow, driving it from the world, once and for all, or so it was believed. If the shadow has returned, then perhaps it seeks to weaken or destroy those with the power to oppose it."
"Then we are already at a disadvantage," Vana said.
"Perhaps," Kroma replied. "The shadow is adept at hiding itself, but if it were truly as powerful as it once was, then the world would already be a much darker place. I do not think that all is yet lost."
"Let us hope not."
"If you would like for me to drive the poison from you, I believe I still have the strength," Kroma said.
"What about the clutch?"
"If you are cleansed of the shadow, your fire should burn hot enough to save the ones that can still saved," Kroma told her.
"Would you prefer me to take another form?" Vana asked.
"It would be easier for me," Kroma said.
Vana smiled then she shifted, becoming smaller and turning into a woman who appeared youthful, though with a maturity of bearing and her eyes spoke of a long life already lived, serene yet with still a hint of her predatory dragon nature. Unlike her young daughter, Vana had a little more experience with the other creatures of the world, and she used her power to create the illusion of a simple yet elegant dress of light cream, embroidered with earthy green. While Kroma knew it was little more than a glamour, he appreciated how beautiful the dress was, though not nearly as much as the woman who wore it.
"I am gifted by your beauty, Lady Aledra" he said.
"You did not find my dragon form appealing?" she asked.
"On the contrary," Kroma replied with a smile. "Your power and elegance is transcended only by your grace on the wind, or otherwise."
"You are a little young to flatter an old wyvern," Vana said.
"That would be the young man, whose cheeks have no doubt turned blood red," Kroma said. "I am somewhat ancient by comparison. Perhaps it is my turn to say that you are very young, though I must also say that your thoughts speak of great wisdom that is a benefit to the wisdom of your line."
Vana smiled at him and then she sighed.
"I suppose we may as well begin," she said, and with a fingernail, which was sharp as a blade, she cut a slit down the front of her dress.
Brian slipped his hand through the gap and he felt the power of the god begin to flow through him. Vana twitched slightly at his touch, but she held her head high and stared straight ahead as the power pulsed into her body, working deep into her core.
CHAPTER TEN
It was a complete slaughter, and Quenta leapt atop a fast mount and raced through the forest, while winged Darga rained burning pitch and arrows down at him from the night sky above. His warriors had been overrun by the lizard men, and most of them were already killed, while the few that remained were now scattered throughout the forest, hunted by their attackers. There was little else the elven prince could do but to make for the city, to bring warning to the court of a threat that was far greater than he had imagined. He already knew that the Darga were dangerous, and that there was bound to be an attack upon the elven borders, but he had not anticipated how immediate things had become, nor that the very forest itself was in such dire peril.
Through the canopy of leaves and branches, Quenta saw a flight of the accursed creatures moving above and ahead of him, their winged figures dark silhouettes against the stars of the night sky. At first he thought they were readying arrows to fire down through the trees, but he saw that they were instead carrying sacks and flying far too fast to be looking for him. Remembering what the Maramyrian, Kaleb had described, as a precaution, Quenta pulled his wind root from his belt and clamped it between his teeth, and not a moment too soon as his horse rode through a cloud of smoke and its legs buckled, mid stride, already dead before it hit the ground.
As the beast suddenly collapsed beneath him, Quenta leapt from the saddle, landing on the branch of a tree only to feel it dying beneath his feet from the poison smoke that withered away its life. He ran, leaping to another branch, then he heard the distinctive sound of bowstrings snapping tight and he dodged to the side as several arrows whistled through the air, barely missing him. While the other Darga were throwing poison smoke through the forest somewhere ahead of him, another group of the lizard creatures had caught up to him, and he saw them circling around above readying to fire another volley of bolts. Quenta finally reached a tree that had not yet been touched by the smoke and he gathered strength from it, springing high into the air, pulling his sword as he emerged above the leaves. With a quick slash, he sliced the throat of one of the creatures then he dropped back into the trees, springing off a branch at almost a horizontal angle as the Darga he had killed fell behind him. Vicious bellows echoed across the sky as the creature's companions pursued him, staying above the thick branches, and avoiding the tangle of the forest.
Thankfully, the trees in this part of the forest did not grow as thick in circumference and their branches were closer together, making it far more difficult for the winged lizards to fly between them, which meant Quenta had a much better chance of evading them. He leapt as hard as he could, summoning all of his strength and letting the trees help him move faster and faster. The trees were whispering now, warning of the danger, which was now spreading through the rest of the living forest, and Quenta moved even faster, bringing word to every tree he touched. He heard another snarling roar far behind him and realized that he had outrun the Darga, but he did not slow down. It was not until he suddenly came to a dead place in the forest that he stopped.
Even under the starlight, he could see that the smoke was thick like fog and it was as though a wall of death had been cut through the forest, running in both directions, as far as the eye could see, and Quenta realized what they were doing. It was no great secret that the elven people could speak to the trees, indeed, it was one of the things that allowed for the defense of such vast forest by such a relatively small force of warriors. since the trees would warn of intruders. The Darga appeared to be aware of this, and with the poison smoke, they were cutting a circle around the advance of their army, cutting the tre
es off from the rest of the forest, preventing them from warning the other trees as well as the elves. It was a strategy that exploited one the elves' greatest strengths and had turned it into a weakness, for it seemed that they relied too much on the whispers of the trees, and it had left them blind to the threat they faced.
Quenta now knew why the Maramyrian commanders had been so insistent in their warnings. Even Nathas, who had been on the edge of death, had demanded that the healers carry a message to him, and Quenta had found himself surprised at the dedication and determination he and Kaleb had shown toward protecting the forest and its people. Now that he had seen what they had, he appreciated their actions even more, and he resolved that he would make an effort to respect their opinions a little more. They were capable commanders and they had proven their honor to him. Of course, for that to be possible, he would have to make it back alive.
Quenta scanned the sky for signs of the Darga and he watched the purplish black smoke waft through the trees in front of him, looking for a break in the smoke. He saw a spot where it was not as thick and, making sure his wind flute was gripped perfectly between his lips, he set off at a run, leaping between the branches as fast as he could, hoping that the poison smoke would not harm him. Thankfully he made it through, and before long, he reached an outpost where several elven rangers were stationed. He informed them of the threat, then he commandeered a horse and rode hard toward the elven city as the night slowly turned to morning.
"The forest is under attack," Quenta told the guards at the gate of the outer city as he dismounted and stormed past them. "Sound the bells."
"The bells?" one of the guards asked.
"The bells of war," Quenta said. "Ring them, for the court must convene at once."
"Yes, my lord," one of the men said, snapping to attention, and before long, the ancient bells of war began to ring.
Quenta made it to the palace grounds as the first members of the court were beginning to arrive, most of them roused early from sleep by the sound of an alarm they apparently thought to be nothing more than a dream. He spotted Rolan and the two of them walked together into the palace.
