by David Ekrut
Now, the savants were nodding.
Bain marked the lesser savant who had spoken out. He would deal with her insubordination later. For now, he needed to address these fears. This was the reason he had made them gather in this square.
“You are wise to fear the dragons we do not control, but we must not surrender to such weakness. As the Father has promised me, I will tame the dragons.” He gestured to the gargantuan statue. “Is not Althimorphianus the greatest amongst them? And he still slumbers here. Once the king of dragons is mine, the rest will bow to His strength. Then, Arinth is ours to shape. Hold onto your faith, my children. Abaddon has not led us astray. He has summoned me to him. This very afternoon, he will provide the guidance we need to wake them.”
He could see the change in them the moment it came. More so, he felt their auras. They were still his. For now.
“Go now and embrace your loved ones. For they are the reasons we fight. For the future of our children, we must march. We claim these lands for them. Victory will be ours, not simply because our cause is noble. But because we have the strength, training, and discipline to persevere. And we have the Father’s favor. He will lead us to triumph. Hold strongly to this purpose. And prepare yourselves for war.”
This time, they cheered. Even the lesser who had spoken up before now held her fist in the air. Bain pivoted and marched back to the castle. He could hear his generals giving orders. This felt right. In a way, the dragons’ return was fortuitous. Their attacks emboldened the guardians to show their true colors. Not even Thirod Alcoa would argue with Bain’s actions. At last, he could destroy them.
Bain climbed the steps to the fourth floor and turned down the hall toward his personal chambers. He secured the door behind him with the bar and entered the viewing room. A large archway rested at the center. The Father had instructed Bain on the construction of the artifact. It made speaking to Abaddon much more convenient than seeking him in the shadow realm.
At his touch, the eloiglyphs ignited. After they were all alight, he stepped through. Cold ran over his skin and through him. For the briefest of moments, he felt weightless. Then he could no longer sense his body. Once the feeling passed, he was standing in a vast library. The smell of vellum and old leather surrounded him. Despite the age of the books and scrolls, there were no signs of mold or decay.
The quiet was so complete, he could hear the air filling his own lungs. His heartbeat sounded a gong. He felt eyes upon him, despite the unnatural stillness.
He stepped forward, trying not to wince at the noise of his boots striking the floor. He only walked a dozen paces, making no turns. There seemed to be no end to the rows of shelving. No outer wall that he could see. If he got lost, there would be no way to find his way back to the gate.
“Father?” The word echoed in all directions. He wet his lips and added, “I have come to answer your summons.”
A dark fog appeared at his feet, rolling upward like smoke. It smelled like musk and sweat. After mere seconds, the substance formed into a man. The muscular body solidified into flesh. As always, Abaddon wore blue silks and a dark doublet and surcoat with buttons on the sleeves. He wore a flat rope of cloth around his collar which dangled down his torso. Bain had wondered why anyone would wear a noose around his neck, but he had never worked up the courage to ask. Perhaps, Abaddon enjoyed reminding others how he had escaped dying. The black and blue garment now represented a symbol of his immortality.
“Hello, Bain.” The voice was deep and lacked the warmth it had before. “I trust you are well?”
“Yes, Father.” Bain inclined his head. “I am well. But why have I come? As we speak, my troops are mobilizing. We march at first light, and there are prepar—”
“No.” The word hung in the air like a raised fist.
Bain flinched. “Father?”
“I can no longer afford to indulge your personal pursuits. You will forget about the guardians for now.”
“But, my lord,” Bain said, “The guardians are winning. With the dragons waking, they are seizing control of every city. After everything I have sacrificed to save my kind, we are being hunted like rabid dogs and slaughtered in the streets. Alcoa’s own men are abandoning him for the guardians’ cause. I need to move against them while—”
“Enough.” Power resonated in his voice. The weight of it pressed on Bain’s chest with each word. “The dragons are rising, and you have not prepared my construct. Have you any word of Zeth or Elwin, Fasuri or the others?”
“No,” he gasped in shallow breaths. “But I control the island. It is only a matter of time before my savants find him.”
“We no longer control the island,” Abaddon said. The pressure eased as he spoke. “The dragons have consumed the essences of most of your savants in and around Justice, and the undead soldiers have scattered or been destroyed. I have ordered those few surviving savants to abandon their posts. Elwin is no longer a concern. We must cut our losses and consider the alternatives.”
“What alternatives?” he asked with care. The pain had lessened, but he still felt tightness when drawing breath. “Do you no longer need Elwin for the incantation?”
“His blood would have aided us in securing all of the dragons, but this is no longer possible. More dragons rise every day. Soon there will be none left, and you still do not possess an artifact of power necessary for the ritual. Have you even searched for one?”
Bain looked away. He had spent so much time and so many resources seeking Elwin and fighting in southern Alcoa, he had given little effort to securing the artifact needed to complete the ritual. He had always thought he would have more time.
Abaddon took a step closer. As the Seeker’s shadow fell upon him, Bain felt heavier. “Did I misplace my trust in you, Bain Solsec? Did I give my powers to the wrong man?”
Bain met the Seeker’s gaze. “No, my liege. I will not fail you.”
“But you are failing. Each dragon awakened by another’s hand is your failure. And if Althimorphianus rises on his own, all is lost. I need him to control the others. You know this. He could shake off his stony cocoon any day, and you wish to make war on the guardians? How does this achieve our goals?”
“It does not.” Once more, Bain averted his gaze. “Father, please forgive my foolish actions. I will seek out an artifact of power at once.”
“Very well. I will give you another chance, but I have sent others as well. If you fail, the gifts I have promised you will go to them instead. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Father. Thank you. May I ask? How is the Awakening possible without your will to guide them? Who is doing this?”
“Old enemies. We are not the only ones with the incantation, but do not concern yourself with the magi. The construct must be prepared. That is the first step toward our victory. The way must be opened for the vessel to matter. Now go. Keep practicing the incantation I gave you, and we will speak again soon. In the meantime, I have other children in need of guidance this day.”
Abaddon waved a dismissive hand, then vanished in wisps of dark fog. The pain receded with the Seeker’s leaving. The change made his head light. Bain resisted the urge to lean on the shelves. He stood still, unable to move for fear of falling.
There was much Abaddon had not told him. Who were these other children? What if someone else succeeded, where he had failed? The gift of immortality would go to another. Bain would grow weak and die, just like everyone else. Worst of all, he would never hold the Elements again without fearing the dragon’s claws.
He would not allow this.
Bain turned and marched through the archway. The return bathed him in heat, almost enough to be painful. He stepped back into his private chambers with sweat dripping from his brow.
He wiped the moisture from his face with his sleeve, then he grabbed a pack and gathered some minor artifacts and other supplies for his journey. Picking up his tome
revealed his war map. The guardians covered far more of the territories than his own troops.
What would his savants think if he abandoned the war now? Less than an hour had passed since his promise to destroy the guardians. If he did not make good on that promise, he would lose his savants. He would only need a handful of his closest savants to seek out an artifact. There was still a way to fulfill his obligations to his people. To achieve all of his goals, he would need to delegate the war to his generals.
Grabbing a parchment, he penned quick orders to Donavin. His eldest son held steady in southern Alcoa, awaiting reinforcements to march north. Bain would send everyone. All his reserves. The soulkeys would still function, despite the dragons, as would the binding rods to control the skeletal warriors. He should have made more artifacts when there had been time, but lamentations would not win this war.
Once he finished with his instructions, he rolled the parchment, sealed it with wax, and added his signet. Slinging his pack over his shoulder, he marched toward the exit.
Upon reaching the hall, he called, “Thadius.”
The bald man appeared from the servant’s room next to Bain’s.
“Yes, my king? Is there news from the Father?”
“Yes, my old friend. Fetch Lana. Tell her there is a change of plans. She will need to gather twenty of our best savants. We have a mission of the greatest importance. We leave at once. And we must hurry. Send a team to load every artifact in the lower vault into the wagons, and have them meet me at the docks. Then see that this letter is delivered to Donavin without delay.”
Thadius took the rolled parchment and bobbed his head in a curt bow. The old servant pivoted, then hurried toward the stairwell. The sword at the man’s side nearly tripped him. Despite training, such men were better equipped to serve. Thadius had been with Bain since the beginning and had never questioned a single order. When asked to do so, Thadius had picked up a blade, even though the old man would never be able to wield it with any degree of competency. Such loyalty deserved to be rewarded, but if Bain failed to wake Althimorphianus, servants like Thadius would suffer the most. After all, where would the old man go if Bain was defeated?
Bain turned down the corridor that would lead him back to the courtyard.
He could not help but reflect upon the poor choices leading to this moment. Not his, of course, but hers. How different would things have been if Athina had not stolen Elwin away all those years ago? The dragons would now be his to control. With Abaddon’s strength, Bain would have united all of Arinth’s peoples. There would have been a true peace. But now?
How many dragons had already risen? Even if Bain could get an artifact of power, the war between the dragons would last years, maybe even decades. Thousands would die. Because of her foolishness.
Bain took a slow breath to steady his thoughts. The Father had promised Bain immortality. What would a few years of war matter if he had an eternity to correct her mistakes? Abaddon had been right. There was only one way forward. It pained him to admit it, but the time had come to forget his youngest son.
Wherever he was, Elwin was at the mercies of the dragons and the guardians. The thought sent a twinge of anger through him, but he did not let the feeling take root. He could not afford to.
The quest for Abaddon was more important.
Bain would leave the war efforts to Donavin and his generals for now, and he would find an artifact of power. There were rumored to be dozens in Alcoa alone, which was why finding one had always been a secondary concern. Even the minor nobles boasted to own such artifacts. It was only a matter of sifting through the bluster to find the genuine item.
He would begin with his contacts in Weatherford, where he knew merchants who traded in such items.
And if a guardian or two were to cross Bain’s path during his journey, well, he would do what was necessary. Perhaps this quest would be quick, then he could join his eldest son on the battlefield.
Bain stepped into the courtyard and followed the cobbled road toward the pier. As he walked, he adjusted the straps on his pack so his cloak did not bunch uncomfortably beneath. From his experience, traveling for long periods with a twisted cloak would cause shoulder muscles to knot up, which could make for a long journey.
He could smell sweet scents in the air, probably the blue and purple flowers blooming in the green fields. He breathed them in and looked to the skies. The midday sun hid behind fluffy clouds. A few rays escaped, shining down in wide streaks. In the distance, he could hear birds singing.
As much as he wished to join them in their flight, it felt good to stretch his legs.
Chapter 8
Rock Bottom
My dear Anetia,
I hear you. And as you say, the elementalists have no bounds on their inborn power. It is they who need your lectures in empathy. For, if they had not chased our people into hiding, we would not need to seize our right to exist now.
But that is not why I write today. I have experienced the most incredible event of my life. At long last, I have communed with the great dragon, Eleandarinius, resting in the aerie above my manor. Her intelligence and understanding is far superior to any person I have met, yet she craves human wealth with a childlike zeal. Her dwelling is filled to bursting with gold and artifacts. What use are such trinkets to a being such as her? I will ask others within my order. I dare not pose such a question to Eleandarinius. Our first meeting was pleasant, and I would not want to leave a poor impression. I was fascinated to learn, her mate is the famed dragon, Althimorphianus, who battled Abaddon before his transcendency.
Further, with her guidance, I have confirmed some of my hypotheses about partial Spending with her. The dragons have long understood how to harness the essences of others. My research has reached new heights.
Sincerely,
~R.,2993 A.S.
~
As the ground rushed toward him, Elwin filled his essence with Air and tamed flight. An angry cry erupted from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The warder stood atop the rail and appeared on the verge of leaping. Elwin surged upward and away from his room.
He soared over the buildings, looking for a place to land away from the view of the castle. Gardens, statues, and fountains filled the courtyard on this side. People picnicked on the lawn, oblivious to his flight above them. A shout of alarm drew his attention toward the outer gate. One guard pointed. A second aimed a crossbow toward him. The bolt fell far short.
An arrow whizzed by him. He felt something snag his cloak. With a burst of energy, he shot over the wall. The guards gave chase as he flew over buildings and shops.
He needed to get out of the city.
Elwin gathered more Air, ready to fly into an alley and land, but he reversed direction on instinct. He felt, more than heard, a whoosh next to him. A wall of blue appeared beneath him. The scales were the size of a man.
A colossal head swiveled up. Eyes like rubies regarded him. He could read no emotions in that gaze. But the feral smile left no doubt to the creature’s purpose. The dragon’s voice was deep. He recognized the intonations from earlier, just before the other dragon had stolen Jasmine’s essence.
A feeling of panic tried to seize hold of him, but Elwin did not give into it. Filling his essence to bursting, he flew with all his might.
Down.
He darted directly at the dragon, hoping its size would slow its pursuit. The dragon stopped its incantation and started another. Elwin recognized the words of the dimensional folding from the book. The dragon vanished. Again, Elwin switched directions, making a hard turn but still moving down. It appeared where he would have been. And it faced the wrong way.
Hope rising in his chest, he cut off his taming, free falling toward a pair of buildings. They were close together. It rushed toward him. Too fast. Curse it all! He would have to tame again. Or plummet to his death. He pulled in a burst of Air,
just enough to stop his fall. And he landed between the two buildings.
Desperate for a place to hide, he ducked behind a stack of barrels. He smelled old ale and roasting meat somewhere nearby. His heart raced in his chest and pounded in his ears.
A shadow covered the alley.
He looked up. Sunlight glinted off red orbs above him. The mouth was too large to fit between the roofs. He was a rat, hiding from a cat. If he dashed away, it would have him. But if he waited here, maybe he would be safe. Unable to get to him, the cat would grow bored and find a better game elsewhere.
A crash resounded around him. His vision became a dark haze. He couldn’t breathe from the dust. He felt vibrations around him. The dragon spoke. His vision returned. The dust had vanished.
So had half the building to his left.
A blue claw reached for him. He scuttled back on all fours. When the talon touched his boot, Elwin seized Air and willed his body away. He flew from the remnants of the building. The dragon surged upward, giving chase once more.
Elwin searched frantically. There was nowhere to hide. It could get him anywhere. Then he saw a sewage grate, and an idea came to him.
As the dragon flew near, he dropped into a block of the city dense with buildings. He ran in and out. He could confuse the dragon. It would have to stop and look for him from above.
Thunder filled the streets.
Buildings flew into the sky. What was it doing? He stopped, half turning. All those people would be killed. But what could he do? Breaklin could not defeat the dragon, and the Air master had trained all his life in combat. His feet retreated before he could stop them. He felt a coward as he turned. But once he was running, he could not stop.
He burst into the open street and found another alley and another, turning as many directions as he could and searching out the narrowest path.
Then he spotted the sewage grate in the road. The one he’d flown over, moments before. Elwin tamed Fire, blasting the lock on the iron grate with formless energy. He pushed the remaining power from his essence and yanked on the handle. The lid didn’t budge.