Myths and Legends

by Sherry Foster

  Darian gave a snort of disbelief. "A table? Who in Shadow's name came up with that idea?"

  Sarian shrugged, "Someone standing around the hall earlier. So are you ready to go?"

  Kane answered him, "For all we know, Central has been sucked through this portal while the idiots held it open with a table. Let's go so we can see. Then can we push them through?"

  Sarian gave up. It looked like someone was going through the portal, whether they wanted to or not. It was time to pull in the big guns. He mind-called to his dragon, Irirnan, dear, can you meet us at Central? And maybe bring the others with you. Seems we have a portal open in Central, in the Great Room—a portal we don't know anything about. I need your help stopping these idiots from tossing sorcerers and scientists through.

  After a moment, he heard his dragon give a mental snort, Why do the others always insist that violence is the answer? Kane did not toss Darian off the balcony again, did he? We will meet you in the Great Hall. Kirrilla and I will come alone. No reason to bring the others yet. We will share our memories with them.

  After his dragon confirmed he would meet them there, and would bring Darian's dragon, Sarian looked at the others and said, "Let's go—to the hall just outside the Great Room's doors." After confirming with the others they were all on board about the destination, the four men took a step forward, and moments later stepped out into the hall facing the enormous double doors, which were closed. And, as Sarian tested and found, they were locked.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Darian looked in disbelief at the doors; he was not alone. Never in his memory had anyone locked the doors. He did not even know how they locked. Glancing at the others, he saw they were just as surprised as he was. Although, eyes narrowing, he noticed Sarian did not look very surprised. Suspicious, Darian asked, "Why do you not seem surprised the doors are locked? You knew the doors would be locked, didn't you? What are you hiding?"

  Before Sarian could answer him, they all heard someone coming down the hall—a large someone, or many someones. When Irirnan and Kirrilla came strutting around the corner, Darian gave Sarian a look of fury. "You told them?"

  Sarian shrugged. "They did say we should talk to the sorcerers. The memories are faint of our beginnings, but they did say they have some memories stored in the memory stones in the Watchers’ Tower. We need all the help we can get."

  Kirrilla nuzzled her head against Darian as she mind-spoke to him. You know you are happy to see us.

  "Well without stepping through to the other side, we are stuck out here; the doors are locked." Darian told her.

  No problem, Irirnan can open the doors, Kirrilla told them.

  Everyone turned to stare at Irirnan, who ducked his head in acknowledgment of his might, his wonder, his greatness— Oh, everyone is waiting... on me. Perhaps I should just open the doors.

  Giving what Sarian called the dragon equivalent of a shrug, lifting his wings slightly, Irirnan approached the doors and just pushed. Both doors swung open, causing the men to stare at the doors, then back at him again.

  Darian then looked at Sarian. "I thought the doors were locked?"

  Sarian just shrugged, "They were, for us."

  The men turned back to the room—they could now see the portal. Sarian was just as awestruck this time as he was the first time he had seen it. The others were gaping at the portal and the way the portal seemed to make the entire room pulse with color. Standing in the doorway, with both dragons hovering over their shoulders, the men saw that no one in the room had even noticed they were there. Sarian counted—all eight sorcerers were in the room, and it looked like seven scientists. Fifteen people, and not a single one had even noticed the doors flying open. The men walked into the room, with both dragons trailing behind them. They got within a few feet of Gragen before anyone noticed them.

  The chaos that ensued would have been hilarious if it were not such a serious situation. The man screamed, then jumped, and grabbing Malory, he attempted to hide behind him. He seemed to realize who he had grabbed, and immediately he shoved Malory behind Timeron with a scream of "Hide, hide!" then tried to hide behind another scientist.

  After watching the men panic and attempt to flee behind tables and others, Darian finally shouted, "Enough!" He briefly thought, Seems as though we have been through this once today already.

  After another few moments where the scientists were running around trying to hide while also trying to hide Malory, Darian noticed Timeron was not fleeing or attempting to hide. He was simply standing there, looking rather amused instead. It had been almost two thousand years since Darian had interacted with any of the sorcerers, but he remembered Timeron. Looking around, it appeared that of the eight sorcerers, the only ones not attempting to flee were Timeron and Kristien; they also happened to be the only two older than Darian. The other sorcerers were closer to Darian's age, or in the case of Malory and Coliten, much, much younger. Less than one hundred years old, both of them, still children in their eyes. Finally, Timeron turned to Darian and the others and said, "I assume someone gave us away. I can find no other reason for you to visit a hall you have scorned for two thousand years." His lip curled slightly into a scornful look, "After so many years you decided to gift us with your presence instead of ordering us to your chambers like dogs."

  As the words he was saying registered with the others, they ceased attempting to flee, and instead stood, mouths agape, staring at the scene playing out before their eyes between the oldest of the sorcerers and the leader of their race known for his utter hatred, contempt, and disdain for all sorcerers. Most of the sorcerers were more than a little scared of Darian, and though they had talked with Kane, Patro, and Sarian, they did not have much trust of anyone so close to Darian. In fact, all the sorcerers agreed that although Patro and Kane were okay men, Sarian seemed a little insane.

  Darian was a little taken aback, but it seemed Timeron was not yet finished.

  "Now that you need us, now you come around. Before, we were just annoyances at best, hated creatures at worst. What do you want from us? You, who should lead us, have most of this room terrified of you. The stories precede you, true or not. You need us. You need what we have found. But no one in this entire room trusted you enough to tell you we had discovered the portal. Do you know how long we have had this portal? Do you know what we could have already accomplished if we had your support?" By now Timeron was shouting at Darian.

  The other sorcerers in the room were slowly inching their way into the corners of the room. The scientists, Sarian noted, had tried to flee the room, and were currently being huddled by the dragons. It was worse than Sarian had thought. Most men feared the dragons, not seeing them enough to become familiar with them. But for men to run to dragons for protection from the man who led their race—Sarian did not know how to even make a start at repairing the situation. He should have confronted Darian centuries ago about his relationship with the sorcerers.

  Even Kristien, almost as old as Timeron, had inched away from Darian and Timeron, who were now glaring at each other with only a small distance between them. It was a bad situation, made worse by the fact that Timeron had almost as much, if not more bitterness inside him over the situation from years ago as Darian. It had been hard on Timeron to find that the man he trusted with his life, his best friend, had used him and the other sorcerers at the time to build his power, until finally, his blackened soul could not be hidden and he began to kill. Timeron felt guilty, even though what Darian's father had done was not his fault. He felt guilty for what Darian had suffered, for the deaths his best friend had caused. He had been horrified when the truth had come out. He felt he should have seen it before it got so bad.

  He still felt the pain of making all the sorcerers watch while Darian had performed the ritual to burn his father’s soul-thread from the fabric of their race, and then continue to watch while he took the knife and made several slices into his father so he would slowly bleed to death—it was wrong. He could understand to a degre
e, after all. From what he could understand, Darian felt that if he had to suffer the pain of killing his own father, then his father's fellow sorcerers should suffer with him. But what followed, blaming the sorcerers, banning them from his presence, disbanding their guild in front of the assembled members of their race—that was cruel and wrong.

  Darian, lost in the moment, began to shout back at Timeron, "You had the power to stop him. You were so busy trying to figure out how you could gain more power that you never asked him why anyone needed more power. No one would have died if you had stopped him. If you had not helped him—if none of you had helped him—my mother would still be alive. My father could have been stopped before he got the power he was searching for, and instead, you helped him get that power. You and Kristien were there every step of the way!"

  At this accusation, Timeron shouted back, "We did not know, no one knew. You yourself found us innocent of any taint. You looked at our threads and found our souls pure! You can't find someone innocent with one breath and damn them with the next, but that's what you did. You did this! You—just you—caused this fear, this need to hide the very thing we need to work together on." In his rage, Timeron did not care what he was saying to Darian, but at the last moment, just before he made the irrevocable mistake of telling Darian that they had made major progress in the last hour only because of his daughter, Timeron caught himself.

  Shaking his head, he tried to calm himself. He needed Darian's help, and anger was not the way to get it. He stepped back from Darian—so close, he was so close to just hitting the man. He turned his back and walked toward the portal, leaving Darian standing there clenching his fist.

  Darian had never wanted to hit someone so badly in his life. Kirrilla was steadily sending him calming thoughts. And Sarian, Patro, and Kane were busy shouting in his mind—nothing complimentary.

  Darian looked around; everyone except his bond brothers and Timeron and Kristien were huddled by the dragons. Turning back toward the portal, he saw there was a table just sitting in the middle of the portal, and through the portal he could see blueish-green grass, and trees like none he had ever seen before. Grass was not blueish-green, where did this portal lead to? He could not just ignore what was in front of him. Sarian was right, he needed to let things go. He did not know how he was going to get past their past, but for his people, he needed to find a way to let go.

  Sarian, feeling what Darian could feel, having mind-jumped into his mind along with Patro and Kane, knew the worst was over. He could feel Darian's pain, but he could also sense his resolve. And his thoughts were centered on helping their people. ‘Bout time, Sarian thought.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Irirnan gently nudged the scientists and sorcerers out of his way and stepped into the room to see the portal. He had memories of portals—not his memories, he had not lived that long—but the memory stones held faint memories, more like impressions, of portals. Portals, more than one. Looking around, he found the one they called Malory. Having no way to talk to Malory, he told Sarian to ask him if he can make others—we cannot move an entire race through one portal, much less three races. The memory stones gave the impression that more than one portal brought us to this planet.

  Turning to Malory, Sarian asked the question Malory least wanted to hear. "Can you make more?"

  Malory, still hiding by Kirrilla, looked fearfully around the room and seemed to be trying to get even closer to the dragon, if that was possible. Sarian decided to ask the question another way, "You made this portal, right?"

  Malory nodded.

  "So if you made this portal, you can make another?" he questioned.

  Malory was frightened, very frightened. He had read so much about the myths of how they came to this planet. But the day he made the portal, he had been so tired, trying so many different ideas he was getting from reading the children's stories. He honestly could not remember how he had created the portal. He did not want to tell them that, though. While he thought furiously what he could say, he felt the stares of everyone in the room. If he told them that he could not duplicate the portal, they would—oh, Shadows—he did not know what they would do. He had kept control of the portal by letting everyone think he could just tear that one down and make a new one, one they could not find. What should he do? He had never been so frightened in his life. Well, except for the day he fell asleep in this very room only to wake up and find the portal just inches from his face. It was days before he would even come back in the room. He remembered waking up and seeing the portal and running from the room, slamming the doors behind him with his powers.

  "Malory, you can make another, right?" Sarian asked again.

  Malory shook his head ruefully. "I don't know."

  "What do you mean you don't know? You made this one, you can make another."

  Malory was shaking his head, "It was an accident."

  The scientists and sorcerers all began to shout at once. Sarian was not sure who was saying what, but from what he could make out, the only way Malory had kept control of the portal was by threatening to make it go away and building a new one where the others could not find it. Sarian had to admire the boy's, well, the young man's thought process.

  As the shouts and threats got louder, he decided he needed to take control a bit better. Irirnan, if you could be a dear and roar for us, that would be great.

  Irirnan let out a deep roar that immediately caused everyone to cower back—well, the sorcerers and scientists cowered. The leaders were use to such sounds from their dragons and never even flinched.

  After a moment to make sure he would not be interrupted again, Sarian asked, "You don’t remember what you did, but if you had help remembering, do you think you could do it again?"

  Malory shrugged his shoulders. "I have been trying every single day for months to remember what I did.”

  Darian interrupted at that moment to shout, “Months! This has been sitting in Central for months? You all kept this hidden for months?”

  Sarian said, "Shut up Darian.”

  "Now, Malory—again, if we help you remember, you can make other portals?"

  "But I don't know what I did!" Malory wailed.

  "We will help you, but you have to do something you will not like. You may find it hard, if not impossible—You will have to trust that idiot there." He was pointing at Darian.

  "Sir?"

  "I said, you have to trust Darian. I need you to trust me, and trust Darian. Do you think you can do that?"

  Malory was shaking, "Trust him?" pointing at Darian.

  "Yes, I need you to trust him. He will help you remember by looking into your memories. Can you trust him to delve into your memories to find the one that created the portal?" Sarian asked; he was becoming concerned.

  At the mention of allowing Darian into his memories, Malory looked shocked, then in a move that surprised everyone, he turned and darted out of the room.

  Everyone stood stunned, staring at the spot where just moments before, Malory had stood.

  Sarian, chuckling, looked at Darian, "I guess that was a no." Sobering quickly, he looked around the room, "We need him, we need his trust. I need ideas."

  The others just looked at him blankly.

  "No ideas? Who is closest to Malory." Everyone in the room pointed at Coliten, who looked like he was attempting to leave the room as well, but was being blocked by Kirrilla. Apparently no one else was going to be darting past her; she had arranged herself to block the entire door. So Sarian told him, "Go find him and bring him back. We need him—we need his memory—we need his ideas. We flat out need him."

  Once Kirrilla had moved enough to let him past, he too darted out of the room as if the room was on fire. Sarian spared a brief moment to wonder whether he was fleeing or searching for Malory. Sarian would bet on fleeing; he looked so terrified he probably never even registered the instructions to find Malory.

  Turning to the room at large, he looked at everyone. With a scowl on his face, he said, "Every
one will leave. Get that table out of the portal; this room will be locked down until we know more, until we get Malory back on this. No one—" looking at the scientists," I mean no one comes in this room. At that, the scientists began protesting, but before they could get too loud, Irirnan roared again.

  Even that only caused the scientists to momentarily cower, but almost immediately they began to shout their protest again, and the sorcerers were with them this time. Even Timeron was letting his displeasure be known.

  Kane turned and stepped out of the room, motioning Darian to follow him. Out in the hall with Darian and Patro, who had followed Darian, Kane said, motioning toward Darian's chest, "Find him—trace his soul-thread and find him. We," motioning to Patro, "will go with you to get him. Like Sarian said, we need him."

  Darian nodded, then closing his eyes, he began to sort the threads of all his people. He was connected to almost everyone in the race. The only ones he had not woven his soul-threads to yet were the ones older than nine thousand years. The weaving to others could only happen just so fast. It was not easy to pick the single thread for one person from all the threads of the race. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he gently began to trace the one soul-thread that he could feel belonged to Malory. Looking at the other two, he asked, “Do we step through, or do we walk?”

  Darian opened his eyes. “He is not far. I don't see any reason we should risk scaring him more by just appearing in front of him. We walk.

  As Darian moved down the hall, the other two followed behind him, slowly making their way to where the soul-thread led.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Sarian was more angry than he had been in a long time. "If you want to be allowed back in this room, you will find Malory and you will convince him to let us help him find the one memory that will get us more portals. We can not move three races through one portal—we can't. We just can't. Find him. Find him and bring him back. That is the only way you will be allowed back in. And when you find him, we will have a meeting, and you will fill us in on what you have been doing. Idiots, you are all idiots. We could have found that memory months ago. Do you realize that? Do you realize that no matter how Darian feels about any one person, this is our race to protect and to lead? We can't do that if you do not help us help you. Now go. Get out of this room—and out of my face—before I send each of you through that portal. If you can get a dog back, we can get you back—if we want to, that is."