Brothers of Blood (Fall of a King Book 2)

by James Fuller

  Meath followed the druid into the dark building and watched him light several torches bracketed into the walls with the flame from his palm. The darkness was forced back into the furthest reaches of the multi-leveled room, revealing several large stone tables and scores of old book shelves. Across several of the tables were stacks of leather bound books, surrounded by piles of loose parchment and scrolls.

  “I do not think I have ever seen so many books in one place,” Meath gasped, following Stefan to a large table. “Not even Draco Castle’s library compares to this.”

  “Salvas has been collecting knowledge for millenniums. Some of these tomes and scrolls are well over a thousand years old.” Stefan gestured to the ancient, brittle tome that lay open, across the table. “Despite our best efforts at preserving them, age is catching up to them. It is why Old Talamos and I have been trying our best to make copies before the knowledge is lost forever.”

  “An honorable and wise task,” Meath replied.

  “It is,” Stefan said with a sigh, “it is also long and tedious, but that is not why you came.” He beamed once more. “Follow me.”

  Meath followed Stefan up two sets of stairs that connected the many leveled room to different platforms of bookcases, until they were standing in front of a bulky, petrified wood podium. The tome that rested upon it was bound in a rusty bronze, scaled leather of which Meath had never seen the like. Even the pages of the massive book were not parchment as one would have expected - instead, it was pounded, thin leather.

  Meath ran his hand along the exterior of the tome feeling the smooth, firm scales that armored it. “What creature is this from?”

  “I doubt you would believe me if I told you.” Stefan opened the book carefully. “You see, Meath, magic has not been around forever like so many believe, well it has, but not in us, humans. Salvas’ founder - Thane - was the first wizard to our knowledge to walk this earth, over a thousand years ago. He was not born with the Gift like you and many others are now, no, he discovered magic quite by chance. Thane was just an ordinary man, lived on the northern coast of the Misty Sea in a small fishing community of Belta, which has long since disappeared. The world back then was simpler; it was a time before Kings and their petty wars over lands and wealth. A different kind of ruler roamed the continent then - one that there was no reasoning with. Great winged beasts of colossal size, unrivaled strength and unique intelligence.” Stefan ran his fingers along the outer exterior of the tome. “Dragons.”

  “What?” Meath stammered. “That cannot be true; Dragons are but myths, things of old lore. Stories told to children of brave warriors to inspire them.”

  Stefan’s laugh was full of delight. “And nearly everyone outside of Salvas would agree with you on that. Through the centuries, the truth has been nearly completely lost to the external world. Every generation, the legends and fables alter slightly to better fit the times and beliefs. History slowly becomes less and less accurate as knowledge was lost, destroyed or hidden away. But Salvas holds the truth within its history. Dragons are real…and long ago roamed this continent in great numbers.”

  Meath held up his hand motioning for Stefan to stop. “Dragons are real? Are you telling me these creatures still exist?” Stefan nodded. “If that is true, why has no one ever seen one?”

  “How do you know no one has?” Stefan countered, his eyebrow raised. “Just because you have never heard of anyone seeing such a beast, does not mean no one has.”

  “You are beginning to sound like Ursa, my father,” Meath replied, ignoring the pang in his chest. “Okay, what do dragons have to do with any of this?”

  “Everything, Meath…let me continue. Dragons are territorial - once they have claimed an area, it is theirs and they will defend it, killing anything that enters their domain. Thane’s son, Sorin, had gone hunting one morning, got too close, and was killed by the dominant sire. When Thane heard the news that his only son had been killed, he was devastated and grief-stricken. Honor bound, he set out to avenge his son or die trying. Thane and his friend Otis went to the heart of the dragon’s domain and challenged the sire that had killed his boy. There was a grand battle between man and beast. Otis fell to the dragon’s fire. Thane slay the dragon, but he was grievously wounded in the process. Knowing the dragon dead and his son avenged, he closed his eyes and accepted death.” Stefan turned several more pages. “Yet later he woke - his damaged flesh and broken bones had mended completely. He could not begin to fathom how he was still alive, nor how his wounds had healed. He went back to his village, where they had assumed him dead by now. It was thought the Creator had granted Thane a new life for the glorious deed of slaying the great, winged beast. It was quickly discerned that he had not only been granted new life, but new Gifts. Within days, he noticed he felt different, as if something coursed within him. It was when he leaned down to light his hearth one evening and the logs sprang to life with fire before he had even struck the steel to flint that he knew he had been Gifted.” Stefan stopped, watching as Meath step back and sank down into one of the dusty oak chairs.

  “How?” Meath mumbled, looking down at his hand and calling a small flame within the center of his palm.

  “The blood, Meath.”

  Meath looked up from his hand. “The blood?”

  Stefan nodded. “The blood from the dragon sprayed Thane’s face when he struck it with his war-axe - some of that blood went into his mouth. It was within the blood of that great beast that magic was born within humans. The dragon’s unique abilities of summoning fire, healing and mending flesh somehow was passed on to Thane. Slowly, as time went on, he got stronger with them, could use these new gifts with ease. It quickly inspired Thane and several others to begin watching the dragons, to learn more of them. They learned of their many different abilities - not only could some breathe fire, but also ice, or a raw electrical power. Others could breathe violent torrents of air, some could even split the earth in half.”

  “But if Thane only got the blood of the one dragon within him, why do we now have the ability to do all these things?”

  “Thane and the others watched for many months. Soon, others within the village wanted such powers and, knowing such beasts could be killed, they began hunting them. They soon realized that by drinking the blood of each dragon, they gained all the abilities the dragons had to offer. After each kill the blood was collected and returned to the village where everyone would drink of it. Soon everyone within the small village had all the abilities of the dragons flowing within them.”

  “And because the blood was now part of them, when a child was born, the Gifts were passed on,” Meath said with a touch of wonder.

  “Yes,” Stefan said, “but it is only guaranteed when two parents that are Gifted conceive. If one parent is Gifted and the other is not, the chances the child will inherit the Gift lessens considerably.” Stefan glanced at one of the windows. “It really is getting late, Meath. You should try and sleep - you likely have a busy day tomorrow.”

  Meath stood from his chair and followed Stefan’s gaze. “I suppose you are right. Before I go, you said outside that you were surprised I did not know all of this, given who I was.” He returned his gaze to Stefan. “What did you mean by that?”

  Stefan turned his eyes away, the excitement there faded. “I... I am not sure if I can tell you.”

  “What do you mean, why not?”

  “I am not sure it is my place to say.”

  Meath rolled his eyes, his mood quickly souring. “Wish I could say I understand, but I do not. Goodnight, Stefan, and thank you for what you have shared with me.” Meath began for the door.

  “He was your father,” Stefan stuttered out quickly.

  Meath stopped in his tracks and turned to face the druid. “Who is?”

  Stefan gulped back his unease. “Thane - he was your father, Meath.”

  *****

  “How are his preparations going?” Zada asked. It had only been a few days and she didn’t expect much progress
in such a short time, but she needed to know that there was a chance he would be ready.

  “He is new to his powers and it shows, though he is stronger than he realizes. Ursa was wise. I can see he was easing Meath into his powers by showing him the things he would naturally excel at. I can also tell that because Ursa was so busy with other things within his position, that he did not dedicate the time needed to truly train someone with the Gift,” Titus explained. “He has the potential to achieve what is needed of him, given enough time.”

  Zada grimaced. “Time is not something we have the luxury of. Donner, I know you have not had time with Meath yet, but I have been told you have been watching him. What are your thoughts on what you have observed thus far?”

  Donner’s accent was thick, but he was easily understood. “It is true. I have been watching his training with Titus from time to time. His powers manifest awkwardly – he is unsure of them and their myriad of uses in battle…that much is easy to tell. His eyes show his eagerness and determination, yet they show me something else. He was a soldier first, much like I was. His instincts are to fight in the thick of battle with blade in hand, not to stay back and cast spells. He is much like his brother in that way.”

  Zada sighed. “His strength with a sword will not aid him much if he cannot stand on a more even ground against Astaroth’s Gift.” Donner frowned but nodded again. “Tabitha, how was he with healing?”

  Tabitha frowned. “Nothing as of yet, but it is something he truly desires to learn; as do all those with the Gift.” She sighed. “Again, with time, of course he would do well, but I just don’t think healing will be something he leaves here with in time to face Astaroth.”

  “I was afraid of that, yet it was expected,” Zada replied. “Controlled healing is one of the hardest things to learn. But it is something he will need to learn. Facing Astaroth and Vashina - and who knows who else they have been able to conscript - without at least paltry ability would be fatal and all this would be for nothing.”

  “How are we supposed to do this?” Titus asked. “We cannot pause time outside Salvas. We only have a specific interval to prepare him and we are doing all that we can. This kind of training cannot be forced or it could be just as hazardous as Astaroth will be.”

  “I do not know, Titus,” Zada replied. “But there must be something we can do, some other way we can reach his abilities quicker.”

  “It might serve best to strengthen him with another?” Titus suggested and all eyes went wide.

  “Titus might be right,” Tabitha agreed.

  But Zada was already shaking her head. “No, I do not think he is ready for that, he would not understand it. There must be another way.”

  “I believe there is,” a voice said from behind them and they all turned to see Daden.

  “Daden, what are you doing here? I did not summon you.”

  “I know that, my Lady, and I apologize for my unannounced presence.” Daden bowed his head in apologetic respect. “But I believe I know how to solve this problem.”

  Meath stood back and watched the vibrant mystical life energies flow from the earth up into the awaiting tattooed palms that beckoned it. The abilities of a druid were a mystery to Meath, yet, since meeting Kara, fascinated him. Within moments, enough energy had been drawn for the spell that was about to be summoned against the quad of spread out targets. With little to no thought, the energy was released. An intense percussion of air erupted from the outstretched hands and a large spray of dirt and four stumps were all that remained.

  “That was impressive; maybe it should be you training to fight Astaroth instead of me,” Meath joked as he walked towards the red-haired druid.

  Kara spun around, completely off guard. “Meath!” she gasped. “I did not know anyone was around.”

  “I was just getting some air before going to see Titus this morning. I did not know you would be here,” he explained. “What are you training for?”

  Kara turned back to the defeated targets, her eyes growing hard. “When we were bringing you here, we were attacked by barbarians. Compared to you and Daden, I was the weak link and I realized I had much to learn in ways to use my Gift against many opponents. I am a druid and I require more time to summon the energy for my spells, therefore… I need to learn to make each spell count. I have never really trained much in using my powers to fight. The training I did is nothing compared to the reality of what can really happen in a battle.”

  “What did you do to take those targets down like that?” Meath asked. “Normal air would not have done that to them.”

  Kara smiled and reached down into a leather pouch at her side and pulled a handful of small jagged rocks. “This way I will always have them and do not have to search.”

  “Wise.” Meath smiled back, looking at the strange tattoo that lined her palm. “I never asked before, where did you get that design on your hand?”

  Kara showed him the intricate tribal designs that marked her hands. “I was given them, here, because I showed great promise as a druid. They help me draw energy quicker and strengthened me tenfold.”

  Meath examined the black tattoos keenly. “I do not understand how they help you. Is there some spell within the patterns themselves?”

  Kara laughed. “Yes, I suppose in a sense there is,” she paused. “What do you know about where the Gift came from?”

  Meath smiled. “More now than I ever did before. I know it came from the blood of dragons. I also know Thane was the first to have the Gift.” Meath knew much more but did not know if what Stefan had told him would get the druid in trouble and he would not risk it.

  “Good, I am glad Lady Zada changed her mind and decided to educate you on such things.” Slowly, Kara began drawing energies from the earth below her. “Druids can be those who were not born with the Gift yet had a parent who was.” Kara stopped the flow of life energies and turned her hand outwards as another target rose from the turned earth.

  “How does that work then?”

  “When a child of a parent who is gifted is born without the Gift, the abilities are dormant within that child’s blood. But that does not mean those powers cannot be stimulated to work, with the aid of dragon’s blood.” She released a bolt of power that arced into the target, causing it to explod into an array of rubble.

  “There are no dragons left…how would you get the benefit from their blood?” Meath asked, hardly noticing the druid’s display. “Unless Thane preserved some of the dragon’s blood…” Meath muttered as he looked at Kara; her eyes were wide with surprise. “What is it, Kara?” Meath followed her gaze down and saw thick blood oozing from beneath her hands, quickly staining her tanned shirt. “Kara, what happened?” Meath stammered.

  “I... I do not know...” Kara whispered back as her knees gave out. Meath was quick to catch her and gently laid her down on the soft grass.

  Meath slowly pulled her hands away from the gaping wound and more blood escaped from lack of pressure. It was bad; the wound was deep and shared characteristics of a stab wound. Meath had seen enough of them to know this would be fatal if something was not done quickly. What had caused it? Meath looked back at the earthy mound she had destroyed. It was possible something had flown back and hit her.

  “I have to look within the wound, Kara; there must be a piece of rock inside. I have to get it out before anything else can be done.” Her eyes were glazed with agony, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “It is going to be okay, Kara, I promise you! Just stay calm. This is going to hurt but I need you to stay still. I will be as quick as possible.” She nodded weakly to him and he grimaced as he pushed his fingers into the puncture. She cried out in anguish as his fingers probed around inside her, searching for the source of the wound. Her limbs and body thrashed in jagged convulsions and her complexion paled. Soon, Meath’s fingers found what he was looking for and he pulled out a shard of ice.

  “It is out, Kara, I got it!” Meath exclaimed. “Quickly draw energy from the earth and heal yourself, b
efore it is too late!”

  “I cannot...” Kara coughed, blood splattering her chin. “I cannot... focus...” Her head began to loll as her strength dwindled.

  “You have to!” Meath cried down to her. “You have to, Kara, it needs to be healed!”

  “Meath...” she sputtered, more blood escaping her lips. “... help me...” Her eyes slowly drifted back.

  “No!” Meath cried putting pressure on the wound, though it would do no good now, she needed healing or she would die. “I can do this, I can.” He licked his lips as he tried to remember everything he was ever taught about forced healing, yet now he could not seem to collect his thoughts. “Kara, hold on!” He could feel his innate Gift flowing rapidly within him yet it had no direct purpose. He could cauterize her wound and try to get her to help, his hand flared to life with fire but quickly dissipated as he realized it would not help. He had but mere moments to act or she would die from the internal bleeding. He held his hands over her wound and shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm, forcing his life energies into his hands and into her. He could feel his hands pulsating with power yet knew nothing was happening. “I promised!” He hissed.

  His eyes opened and he noticed the movement within the trees. He was about to call out for help when he glanced down at the melting ice shard that had hit Kara. Meath’s mind reeled as he looked back towards the target and then down at Kara’s wound. The angle did not add up - it would not have hit her as it had. His head snapped back towards the earthy mound - she did not use ice to attack the target, she had used a bolt of power. The angle…his eyes snapped back to where he had seen movement. She had been attacked. Meath was about to stand and give chase when Kara jerked suddenly. He looked down; her eyes were open, though the spark of life that looked up at him was weak. He moved his hands slowly and could see the trail of energies flow from him into her, the wound closing before his eyes.

  “Meath...” she whispered, but he silenced her with a shake of his head.

  “You are going to be all right, Kara. I will send help as soon as I can.” Meath pushed himself up, his eyes seething with hate as he took off into the tree line, following the swaying branches.