The Dragon Rider (The Alaris Chronicles Book 2)

by Mike Shelton

  The crowd began to disperse. And, with a signal from Bakari, Abylar rose back into the air with a silent thought that he was going to hunt for food but would be close enough to return when Bakari needed him again. When you are finished here, we will be going northwest, deep into the forest, to find the next egg, the dragon said to Bakari’s mind as he flew out of sight.

  Lan led Bakari through a small city built up to the edge of the Blue Sea.

  “Why do you have buildings on the land here?” Bakari asked. “I thought elves lived in forest cities.”

  Lan smiled. “We do live mostly in the trees, but we also trade with other lands, to the north and the south, and they are not as comfortable with climbing our great trees to discuss business.”

  “That makes sense. The trees do look a little daunting.” Bakari tried to observe and then catalog everything into his mind.

  “This is where the ancient city of Lor’l begins.” Lan motioned ahead as they entered the ancient Elvyn Forest.

  “You must have strong legs to climb so much.”

  Lan laughed good-naturedly. Stopping beneath one of the larger trees, Lan motioned Bakari to a certain spot. Above them, a wooden platform was lowered, held in place by a system of vines.

  “We have other means than climbing.”

  Bakari let out a relieved breath. The two stood on the platform and were pulled hundreds of feet up into the air. Soon they came to a stop. Bakari looked down and was surprised that he didn’t feel dizzy.

  Lan could probably tell what he was thinking. “Being on the dragon helped you become comfortable with heights. We will make an elf out of you yet.”

  “I don’t see any dark-skinned elves here,” Bakari blurted. He silently berated himself for voicing this thought. All the excitement of the day must be getting in the way of his normally rational thoughts.

  Lan slapped Bakari on the back jovially. “Don’t worry about that, Dragon Rider. We accept everyone here. The elves in Mallek, farther south, in the desert, live in caves and have light brown skin and red hair. Now that’s a sight to behold.”

  Bakari wondered at Lan’s humor. It was refreshing here. He breathed in deeply and felt at home.

  They soon entered a room, the trees forming beautiful wooden walls on all four sides. Light filtered down through an open ceiling. The effect was magical. At the back of this room stood another door. They entered through it, and Bakari blinked a few times. This second room was much darker, and a feeling of death permeated the air.

  Lying on a bed was an elderly man. His face was thin, and graying hair hung over his slanted ears. Light blue robes covered his thin frame.

  Bakari moved his eyes from the obviously sick man back to Lan, with a questioning look.

  With a look of adoration and love, Lan approached the man. Giving a light tap on his arm, Lan stood still until the man opened his eyes.

  “King Arrowyn,” Lan said, “meet Bakari, the dragon rider.”

  The king? Bakari hadn’t known the man was sick and dying. He almost laughed at the irony of this thought. With the barrier in place for one hundred and fifty years, how could he have known anything about the Elvyn king?

  The king motioned for Lan to help him sit up. Fluffing additional pillows behind him, Lan helped his father move.

  Bakari watched them with awe at the love between the two and then longed for his own parents and their love. There was one other that he thought he loved—Kharlia—but he didn’t know now if he would ever see her again. Pushing back his emotions, he took a step closer to the king.

  Tears filled the king’s eyes, and he opened his dry lips. “Dragon Rider, what is your dragon’s name?”

  “Abylar, Your Highness.”

  “Ahh,” the old man sighed. “Energy and Life. A good name.”

  Bakari stood still while the king paused and seemed to compose his thoughts.

  “Son,” the king continued, reaching over and touching Bakari’s arm. “Dragon riders are special. Only in times of tremendous need in the world are they born. I have heard that the barrier is down and that Alaris is getting greedy again. You must not allow that to happen,” the king said, his voice becoming more forceful. “You must not.”

  “I will not, Sire.” Bakari meant what he was saying. “I go now to search out the other dragon eggs and dragon riders. Kanzar, one of Alaris’s wizards, must be stopped before he tears apart Alaris and then sets his sights on other lands.”

  “I have lived long, Dragon Rider. I was a young boy when the barrier was erected, and the war fought before then almost destroyed us,” the king said. “How did the barrier fall? I need to know.”

  “You mean Breelyn hasn’t arrived yet?” Bakari asked.

  “You know Breelyn Mier?” This time, Lan asked the question.

  “She came through the barrier and led a young man to find me and bring me to Celestar, a city in the North, by the Dunn River and the Mahli Mountains. It was there that the Orb was being held.”

  “That is where Breelyn went?” Lan turned to the king.

  “It appears she went to Silla after that and ran into some trouble,” the king whispered.

  Lan glared at his father. “You didn’t tell me that. What kind of trouble? She was too young to send her on such a dangerous journey. An older protector would have been better.”

  “I did what needed to be done, Lan. And Alair went with her. Now that I know she has met the dragon rider, I am even more sure of my actions,” the king said. “She was attacked in Silla by a human wizard pretending to be an elf. She recently escaped but has not returned here yet.”

  Lan’s lips were held tight, but he remained silent.

  So the king motioned for Bakari to continue talking about the Orb.

  “The Orb was in actuality a dormant dragon egg, taken from Mahli. It was powered by the life force of men and women called guardians. When I touched the Orb, it cracked and the dragon was born. So, in a sense, I took down the barrier.”

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Rider. It was meant to be, at some point. A kingdom should not be blocked off from others like that. Creating the barrier had to be done to stop the aggressors, but it was not right.”

  Bakari only nodded.

  “The egg came from Mahli, as did your ancestors,” the king stated as a fact.

  Bakari nodded again. He found it hard to know what to say in this ancient king’s presence.

  “You do know of the prophecy, don’t you? Their people have been coming here for fifteen years, searching for the one.” A twinkle shown in the king’s eyes. “At about the same time as your birth, I would say.”

  Bakari sighed deeply. “Sire, I know about the prophecy, but I surely don’t know if it’s about me or not. I don’t feel like some hero or king; I just want to help save Alaris. If you have any knowledge of where the next egg may be in Elvyn, that would be helpful. Abylar says it is northwest of here. He can feel its general presence.”

  The king coughed a few times, and Lan brought him a glass of water. After a moment’s silence, he turned to Lan. “Leave us alone for a moment, my son. I have information for only the dragon rider’s ears.”

  Lan raised his eyebrows questioningly at his father, but then he bowed his head in deference to the king’s wishes. “I will wait outside to escort the dragon rider back down afterward.”

  The king nodded and then turned to Bakari as Lan left and closed the door. “You hold an awesome responsibility, Dragon Rider. To be the first is to be the greatest. You will gather the others as has happened before. Sometimes, there are two or three; sometimes, four or five. They are always from various countries, but the leader is always from Mahli. That is the burden and the blessing which you carry.”

  “How will I find them?” Bakari asked with a pleading tone that he hadn’t voiced out loud before, but he felt the weight of it in his heart.

  “The bond with your dragon will help to guide you. Besides, the person must be found before the egg: a person of valor and strength. Som
eone who looks out for the good of the people. Some riders may have magical powers; others may not. But, if you are bonded with your dragon, you will know.”

  Bakari ventured a question. “My dragon feels drawn to go deep into the Elvyn Forest for the next egg. Do you know where the eggs are or who the riders should be? You have lived a long time.”

  The king laughed. “Yes, a long, long time. Even long for an elf. Soon my son, Lanwaithian, will be king. But my greatest secret in life I now share with you. It is a burden I have carried since the barrier first went up. My father told it to me before going off to the last battle. You see, he was the one who took the dragon egg from Mahli.”

  Bakari stood still with interest, his mind working overtime with the excitement of receiving more knowledge.

  “It was his idea to create the barrier, and he found others, in Alaris and even in Mahli, willing to help him. He had learned from the ancient histories our libraries hold that the eggs held special powers and that, someday, the dragon riders would return.”

  “Your libraries must be wonderful to contain so much knowledge.” Bakari almost drooled at the thought. But he tried to stay focused on what the king had told him.

  “You will return and be given access to all the knowledge you desire, Dragon Rider,” the king said, his voice growing weaker. “First, you must find Breelyn.”

  “Sire?”

  “Think about what you know of her. If you have met her, even for only a few minutes, you would know.”

  Bakari thought about the short time he had spent with her: her striking beauty, strong magic, and sense of duty and fairness. “A dragon rider.”

  The king nodded and smiled. “If the dragon is willing, I think she would make a wonderful choice. Just don’t tell Lan.” A small glint came to the king’s eyes.

  “Lan?”

  “They are betrothed, and he is fiercely protective of her,” the king said. “She is quite a bit younger than he is.”

  The king closed his eyes for a few moments, and Bakari grew worried.

  “Sire?” He touched the king’s arm lightly.

  “I’m not dead yet, Dragon Rider,” the king said. Bakari saw where Lan got his sense of humor. “Now, lean in closer. This is the great secret of where the other eggs are hidden. You alone will now carry this burden.”

  Old King Arrowyn Soliel brought his parched lips close to Bakari’s ear and whispered the one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old secret to the young dragon rider. Bakari listened, cataloging all that he heard into his mind, and then nodded. Now he knew the lands where he would need to go to find the other riders.

  An hour later, after the king’s informative meeting, Lan did not push for details but fed Bakari a short meal and then escorted him back outside.

  Soon Bakari and Lan stood once again next to Abylar. Clasping hands, Bakari bade farewell to Lan before mounting. “Prince, I have enjoyed this visit and look forward to returning.”

  “Good luck, Dragon Rider.” The man paused. “And, if you see Breelyn, tell her I wish her well, until we meet again.”

  Bakari nodded and then mounted Abylar, taking off in a northwesterly direction over the thick Elvyn Forest. He needed to find not only Breelyn but also her dragon egg.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Onius Neeland walked down the main street of Cassian, his purpose certain. But, somehow, he still dragged his feet. He had donned a nondescript brown robe and had a cowl over his head. His shoulders were drooped down, and his steps shuffled. And he didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention to where he was going.

  Life for the people in this capital city of Alaris had changed in the last few weeks. What used to be a vibrant city—filled with traders hawking their wares, inns busy with boisterous drinking and laughing, and children running underfoot—was now a hollow replica. Vendors still sold their goods, but their voices were more timid, and their inventories were not as full. The inns were filled with more mercenaries and soldiers, from the Citadel, than with citizens of the city. And children—Onius saw very few. The ones he did see were ushered quickly back inside their homes by their protective mothers.

  In his lengthy lifetime of almost eighty years, Onius had done some things he wasn’t proud of, but these choices had affected a relative few. Now, though, a suffocating feeling of guilt and doom had settled over his aching body. The years were quickly catching up to him, and what had seemed like a good idea decades ago, to promote a king, now seemed like a nightmare unfolding before his eyes.

  His years away from the Citadel, serving the chief judges, had made him blind to the rising greed and power of Kanzar. It was past the time when he should have done something about their self-proclaimed leader. Something that could be dangerous but that, hopefully, would ease his conscience—and help the conflict end sooner.

  Looking right and then left, as he neared a small alley on the outskirts of town, the former counselor wizard to the Chief Judge felt like a criminal, sneaking around like this. Years ago, Onius and the local criminal underground came to an understanding in the capital city. That was during the reign of the previous Chief Judge. Onius had brokered an unwritten agreement with their leader about what parts of the city they needed to leave alone and what level of thievery would be allowed. It was not a perfectly honest thing to do, but it had maintained a balance between the government and the criminal underground of Cassian.

  Any large city in Alaris attracted its share of criminals. They couldn’t be eradicated only, hopefully, controlled. Onius now stood at a knotted wooden door and knocked three times, paused, then three times more. He breathed in deeply and realized he’d just committed himself to a dangerous alliance. He almost turned to leave, before it was too late, but the door creaked open in front of him. A small, thin-faced man stuck his head through to see who had knocked.

  Onius stood up straight and uncovered his head. The man’s eyes widened and he let out a small grunt of surprise at seeing the old counselor wizard standing in the doorway. Backing up, he opened the door a few feet wider and motioned Onius to enter.

  Standing in the entryway of the small house, Onius peeked around in the dim light. Dust covered most of the floor and furniture, and only a few lamps lit the small space around him. The man bolted the door and then walked down a long hallway, obviously intending Onius to follow.

  At the end of the hallway appeared another door. The servant knocked twice on the door, and another man peered out. His face was fuller than the first man’s and appeared younger, but it was hard to know in the dim light. Upon seeing Onius, he, too, gave a small start, and surprise registered on his face. Onius scowled, and the man opened the door.

  This time the room was much brighter, with a row of lamps around the foyer. The room was clean and void of dust, and three doorways branched off from it, each a different color.

  Onius was led to the blue door. The second man put his hand on an ornate golden handle and pushed it open. Then Onius took three quick steps and entered the room.

  Thick drapes covered a wide window, but lamps were situated artistically around the room, giving it a warm and sunny feel. Tall bookshelves lined one wall, while a beautiful painting of mythical woods adorned another. A costly desk—dark, polished cherry wood—stood in one corner.

  However, after a brief glance around the room, his eyes settled on a grouping of furniture in the middle. Two light tan leather couches and two chairs circled a short, brown polished oak table. In one of the chairs facing away from him was a man. But Onius could see only the back of a man’s head.

  The man took his time standing up and turning around. His clothes hung loosely on his aging frame, and his hair was thick and gray, but his face was the same one Onius had seen when negotiating with him twenty years earlier. It was the face of a man used to luxury and power—both brought forth through illegal, underground criminal activities. A man that worked outside of the law and within the shadows. A man that Onius turned to now in desperation.

  “Hello, Onius,” the man said, h
is voice raspy, but his eyes smiled intelligently. “What brings the mighty wizard counselor to such low levels?”

  “Hello, Gideon.” Onius tried to look confident, but he was feeling the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. “I need your help.”

  * * *

  Later that day, Onius sat in a room among other wizards, waiting for Kanzar, their self-proclaimed leader, to show up. Just being in the reception room in the castle in Cassian made Onius feel guilty over what had happened to Chief Judge Daymian Khouri. How many times had Onius and Daymian met in this very room, discussing with others the safety and peace of Alaris?

  Onius had told Roland that he had always done what was best for the kingdom, but now he questioned ever having had conversations with Kanzar about the benefits of having a king for Alaris. Onius, younger back then, was anxious to please a fellow wizard that he recognized would be in the high ranks of the Citadel someday. Over the years, Onius had distanced himself from Kanzar, but that didn’t make him any less guilty by association.

  At the time of their first conversation on the subject, thirty years ago, Alaris had been under the judges system for one hundred and twenty years—a system in which the people chose their local judges for a period of time and those judges would choose one from among themselves to serve as Chief Judge for a period of five years. It was a system that worked well and gave balance to the land. That is, until Kanzar decided that the kingdom needed a king again—and that this king should be himself.

  Looking around at the other gathered men and women, Onius saw that most were wizards of medium to high ranks. They had dressed in similar fashion to Onius, with a colored wizard robe over serviceable traveling attire. For, as a wizard, you never knew when you would have to move quickly or go somewhere all of a sudden.

  Most of these men and women had ridden on Kanzar’s coattails for years as Kanzar rose through the wizard ranks. Onius wondered if any of them were having second thoughts like himself. How many could he trust to turn against Kanzar?

  A scuffle in the hall turned everyone’s attention toward the door. Two guards opened both of the wooden double doors, allowing Kanzar to enter, dragging a young man behind him. Multiple wizards rushed from their seats to be the first to help Kanzar. It was pathetic. Onius watched them grovel for Kanzar’s attention. But Onius stayed seated. He was too high ranking on the Council to grovel at anyone’s feet.