Omensent: Rise of the Shadow Dragons

by Barry Gibbons

  Veren took a sip of his wine, then sighed heavily. "I guess our best option is to begin investigating in Arleia. If that's where the attacks first began, then that's where we should go. Maybe someone along the way will be able to point us in the right direction."

  "That's not a journey to undertake lightly." The king warned. "You have to pass through four out of six of the kingdoms, and that won't be easy!"

  "What do you mean?" Damion asked.

  "Ever since the attacks began most of the kingdoms have closed their borders. No one is sure exactly where the attacks are coming from, and there haven't been many survivors to explain what happened." King Atorius shook his head. "Every kingdom is on edge, and are staring across their borders looking for explanations."

  "Even if you make it to Arleia, you'll be lucky to find out anything useful." The queen said knowingly. "The Arleians are not what you would call the most honorable of people."

  The king nodded in agreement. "They're an unsavory race. They worship snakes, and take a dim view of outsiders. The only place they allow travelers is the town of Hthiss, just as you cross the border between Veiria and Arleia. Outsiders are not allowed anywhere else in the country, except for the slaves that they purchase from the slave caravans." His expression grew distasteful. "The slave trade is the driving force behind their economy. Slavery was outlawed in Jaghera centuries ago, but many other countries still allow such abhorrent behavior. That's why the Arleians built the town of Hthiss. That's where their slave markets are located. Slavers come from all over to purchase slaves to labor in their houses and fields."

  "That's horrible!" Damion exclaimed in disgust. "Why hasn't someone put a stop to it?"

  King Atorius sighed heavily. "Many have tried. Whole armies have descended on that wretched country, only to be defeated by pestilence and disease, not to mention all of the venomous snakes. Their entire country is one huge tropical marsh and is infested with all sorts of lethal creatures! In the end, only few survivors made it out with their lives!"

  Damion's face was grim. "How far is it to Arleia?"

  "At least four months on horseback." Veren replied. His face grew curious. "Can you get one of the scarlet dragons to give us a lift? It would save us months of travel."

  Damion shook his head. "As I said, I do not use the Dragon Sword for my own purposes. We'll just do it the hard way. Besides," He pointed out reasonably. "It would be kind of hard to ask the locals about any sightings if they're running away in terror from the dragon carrying us."

  The one eared man sighed. "I was afraid you would say that."

  "When will you set off?" The king asked.

  Veren sighed heavily. "It would probably be best if we left at first light."

  "I won't hear of you leaving so soon!" The queen declared with some heat, leaping from her chair and scurrying over to Veren where she threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace. "I just had my brother returned to me from the dead! I will not allow him to leave again so soon!"

  Damion laughed. "I don't see any harm in lingering for a day or two."

  Veren's face had grown red, partly from embarrassment, and partly from lack of oxygen.

  Chapter 6

  She stared up into the night sky with longing, remembering the simple joy of feeling the wind beneath her wings and the freedom that was lost to her so long ago. She stretched her one full wing and the stump that was all that remained of other, yearning to take to the sky, but she knew those days had long past.

  She snarled, tearing her gaze from the heavens. She turned to stare upon the small black dragon that trembled before her. She may be crippled, but she was still the brood mother. All of her kind followed her without question, as they well should. "What have you discovered, Tar?" She demanded, settling down in the rocky clearing outside her volcanic cavern.

  "They seem to know." The smaller dragon whimpered, edging away fearfully. "Scarlet dragons have been seen scouring the lands in search of us, but so far there haven't been any encounters."

  The crippled dragon snarled in anger and the smaller dragon backed even farther away. "I did not wish for our presence to be known yet! The time is not yet right!"

  "The brood is growing restless! They are ready to extract their revenge upon our enemies!" Tar whined. "And we still have to feed! We are careful not to be seen, but it is only a matter of time before our enemies confirm our return!"

  The crippled dragon growled, remembering the night eons ago when she was maimed, and her and her brood had been banished from the world. They were cast into the bowels of the earth by their god, Draco, where they remained as the centuries past, not awake, but quite not asleep. Then, something cataclysmic occurred that shook the world to its very core, and she and her brood were suddenly released from their banishment, free to emerge once again into the world! It had been three years since that fateful night, and she would soon release her brood to search out and destroy those responsible for their banishment.

  "There was something else," The small female dragon continued hesitantly. "It is said that the crimson serpents were also imprisoned, long after we were banished. They were released back into this world only recently."

  "Where did you hear this?"

  "The spawn. I would not mention it, knowing the spawn for the pitifully stupid creatures they are, but their release seems to coincide with ours."

  She stared at Tar thoughtfully. "How were they imprisoned?"

  "A sorcerer enslaved them inside of a gem several centuries ago. They were released when it was merged with a sword that was the key to the gem's power. It's said that the sword now controls them."

  "And who released them?"

  Tar shook his head. "That's where the story grows strange. They say that it is a dragon man that now wields that blade."

  "A dragon man?"

  The small dragon nodded. "They say that he is a man like no other they have encountered. He supposedly has the mark of the dragon upon him. They believe the blood of dragons flow in his veins."

  "How is that possible?" The crippled beast sounded intrigued.

  "You know how the spawn entertain themselves on occasion." Tar chuckled darkly. "Apparently, this dragon man was the result of one of those encounters."

  She pondered this for several long moments. "And this dragon man carries a sword that controls our enemies?"

  Tar nodded, inching closer.

  "Having that sword in my possession would be the ultimate revenge!" She exclaimed, her eyes gleaming red in the darkness. "To banish them, as they banished us so long ago!" She whipped around to stare at Tar. "We must find out if the story is true! If that sword exists, I will have it! Have the spawn scour the continents for this dragon man. If he does have this magical sword, then we will destroy him and take it for ourselves!"

  "As you wish, Mother." Tar turned and launched herself into the air, quickly disappearing into the night.

  The crippled dragon slowly turned and lumbered into her volcanic cavern, her mind racing with thoughts of revenge.

  **********

  Damion and Veren set off from Livingston three days later after saying their farewells with the royal couple. Hundreds of people lined the streets as they made their way through the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled Dragon Lord as he passed.

  Damion tried hard to ignore the somewhat skittish crowd, but found it quite difficult as many began to cheer as he passed. The story of how he exposed Sorsos as a fraud and transformed him into a donkey had spread like wildfire. It had grown quickly apparent that Sorsos was despised by many of the nobles, and nearly all of the common folk. Now that he was no longer capable of fulfilling his threats, many people seemed to breathe far easier.

  "It seems you have managed to win the people over." Veren commented as they rode through town. "Sorsos must have been insufferable if this many people are happy at his removal!"

  Damion's eyes seemed to miss the cheering faces to see the frightened and suspicious people in the crowd. Many of the on lo
okers wore angry expressions as they watched him pass, and still others stared at him with open hate. He knew they blamed him for the dragon attacks, and many still believed that the beasts terrorizing their lands were under his control.

  Veren seemed to read his thoughts. "The others will come around eventually."

  A skinny dirt covered man lurched drunkenly from the crowd to stand in the road blocking their way. "It's your fault!" He screamed at Damion, swaying slightly as he stared at Damion. "It's your fault that those beasts are killing our people!"

  Damion reined in Storm about ten feet from the drunken man and stared at him with sad eyes.

  "It's your fault that they destroy our homes and devour our cattle!" The man spat, his eyes full of tears. "Your fault that our families are being slaughtered!"

  The crowd lining the street had fallen silent, and everyone stood watching expectantly.

  "What happened to you, man?" Veren asked sympathetically.

  "A dragon fell upon the farm I worked on, destroying everything!" The man looked at Veren, the tears now flowing freely from his eyes. "It struck in the dead of night, belching flames from above. Its scales were black, and seemed to absorb the darkness around it! It destroyed everything! Only a few of us managed to get out alive!" He looked back to Damion with hate filled eyes. "I curse the day you were brought into this world!"

  Veren started to reply, but Damion waved him off. "I'm truly sorry if my actions have brought anyone harm." He said, his voice full of sorrow. He nudged Storm forward and passed the weeping drunk without another word.

  They made it the rest of the way out of the city without any further encounters, and were soon heading north along a well traveled trade road with Snowfeather gliding silently overhead.

  It was early spring, and the morning air was crisp. Their horses were soon steaming as they passed through the country side, making good time on the well maintained road.

  Damion remained silent as they trotted passed the orderly farms that dominated the countryside. Even though it was still early spring, there were already workers toiling in the fields, preparing the land for the coming season. Every now and then they would pass a farm that had been destroyed and burned to the ground, but there was little remaining at these ruined sights, so they continued without slowing, knowing the beast responsible was long gone.

  It was late evening when they arrived at a small village with a hand full of stone buildings. They easily located the only inn, which was also the village tavern, and led their horses to its well kept livery.

  "Watch yourself around this horse." Damion warned the stable hand as he handed over Storm's reins. "He's a bit aggressive."

  The stable hand shrugged. "A horse is a horse. I've yet to meet one I couldn't handle." He gave the warhorse a impressed look. "Big beast though, isn't it?"

  Storm snorted and then pawed at the ground aggressively.

  Damion laughed, then murmured to Veren. "I tried to warn him."

  "That you did." Veren replied with a smile.

  The left the unsuspecting man to his fate and made their way into the inn. After they had secured rooms for the night, they found a table in the crowded tavern and ordered food and drink.

  "How far did we manage to travel today?" Damion asked as he plucked a turkey leg from the tray of food the serving girl placed in front of him.

  Veren shrugged. "About twelve leagues. We made fairly good time since the roads are so well maintained. The royal family created a work force centuries ago that's only purpose is to patrol and maintain the roads of the kingdom. It makes the transporting of goods from the local farms to the larger markets in the cities much easier and more efficient." He grabbed a turkey leg for himself, then settled back in his seat. "The Road Legion is the reason our country is so prosperous. They're not only skilled engineers, but formidable warriors. They are entrusted with guarding these roads from bandits and highwaymen."

  "Is there a lot of that here?"

  Veren shook his head. "Not this far south. But the area near the border of Deiria has been known for the occasional attack on merchant caravans. It's usually a bunch of Deirians that crossed the borders looking to find an easy mark. The Road Legions tends to deal with these men harshly, so it doesn't happen often."

  "How long will it take for us to reach the border of Deiria?"

  "At least three weeks. Maybe closer to four. We still have a long way to go before we reach the lands of those brigands."

  "What are the Deirians like?" Damion asked, discarding the turkey bone and grabbing another leg. "Will we have much trouble crossing the border?"

  "It won't be easy. Relations between our two countries have never been good, and with recent events, they'll probably be even more suspicious of strangers entering their lands." The one eared man took a long drink from his tankard, then continued. "Their lands are much more heavily wooded than our kingdom. Our people have spent thousands of years developing our lands into the orderly and efficient kingdom it is now. The Deirians, on the other hand, spend most of their lives wandering through their extensive forests. They are very skilled hunters, and much of the trade that occurs between our people revolve around furs and fresh meat that they gather. In return, they get access to the goods produced on our farms. Otherwise, our people have very little contact. We don't actively prohibit our intermingling with their people, but it's definitely frowned upon."

  Damion noticed a doddering old man who had been slowly shuffling in their direction, trying hard to appear nonchalant. It was obvious that he had heard them talking, and the old man seemed to be quite interested in what they were discussing.

  Damion kicked Veren under the table, then gestured to the new comer, who had shuffled a few feet closer and was now pretending to inspect his tankard of ale closely.

  After several long moments of silence, the old man sighed heavily. "I'm guessing I've been noticed?" He asked in a gravelly voice, without turning around.

  Veren snorted in amusement. "Aye, you've been noticed."

  The old man turned around and gave them a helpless grin. "Most folk don't seem to pay much attention to us old folk. I was hoping to get closer without drawing your suspicion." The old man was dressed in a stained, but otherwise clean smock, and a pair of crude pants made of what seemed to be some sort of rough burlap. His hair was an odd shade of translucent white, and his face was deeply wrinkled and weathered from years of toiling in the sun.

  "And what were you hoping to discover?" Damion asked curiously.

  The old man shrugged. "I was hoping to overhear something interesting. There isn't much for an old timer like myself to occupy his time."

  "So you spend it eavesdropping?"

  The old man laughed. "I guess you could say that! You would be surprised how much you can learn if you keep your head down and your mouth shut!" His face took on a cunning look. "I couldn't help but overhear that you were heading north. I might have some recent news on that there area, but I've grown awful thirsty, and I find it a little difficult to speak with a dry throat."

  Veren rolled his eyes, then motioned to the serving girl. "Bring us another round of ale, and bring one for the old man as well."

  "Why, thank you, my young friends!" He tottered over and took a seat next to Veren. "The name's Alfrid. I'm the resident busybody."

  "Pleased to meet you, Alfrid." Damion replied politely. "I'm Damion, and my friend next to you is named Veren."

  The old man stared up at Damion with surprisingly young eyes. "You're a big one, aren't ya?" He looked at Damion a little closer. "You know, just two evenings before, a rider stopped in for a tankard or two and he was going on and on with some outlandish story of a giant of a man who destroyed the Royal Sorcerer, Sorsos with a bolt of lightening! He said it was the Dragon Lord! I had thought him disturbed, but now..." He stared at Damion with a speculative look.

  Veren snorted in amusement, but remained silent.

  The serving girl arrived with their drinks, and the old man smiled happily. He
took his tankard in both trembling hands and took a long drink. He sighed lustily, then wiped his mouth with one sleeve. "That's the nectar of the gods!"

  Damion smiled. "You may want to bring us another round." He told the serving girl, nodding to the wrinkled old man.

  "Thank you again, young master!"

  "So what news have you for us from up north?" Veren asked, leaning back in his chair with his tankard.

  Alfrid smiled, causing his already deep wrinkles to deepen. "Well sir, it just so happens I overheard some traveling merchants discussing the troubles they encountered on the road the Deiria. It seems their forests are being burned, and their hunting camps are being attacked. There're only a handful of survivors from these attacks, and the accounts are sketchy." His face took on a sad expression. "It seems these attacks are much like the attacks happening around our fair land! Their people are afraid, just as ours are! Large groups of soldiers are patrolling the roads stopping all that travel through their lands! We are living in dangerous times, I fear!"

  "This may complicate things." Veren murmured worriedly. "I was hoping we'd be able to avoid any complications in Deiria, but this seems to dash those hopes!"

  Damion shrugged. "We'll worry about that when the time comes."

  "And where is your destination, if I may be so bold to ask?" The old man asked curiously.

  "Arleia."

  The old man nearly choked on his drink. "Are you mad, son? No one goes to Arleia, unless they're involved in the slave trade!"

  "Have you heard anything else that may be of interest?" Veren asked.

  Alfrid scratched his head thoughtfully. "Only that those dragonspawn creatures seem to be everywhere nowadays. I mean, they've always been a problem in Deiria, all the forests and such are the perfect hiding place for those nasty beasts, but I guess they have become much more aggressive as of late. They will attack anything that they encounter!"