by Mike Shelton
“I could. I am the dragon rider!” Bakari pulled rank for the first time since freeing Abylar. He had read the stories and talked to the king of Elvyn and the regent of Mahli. He understood his rights in that role.
Mericus froze. He, too, had been trained in the Citadel and knew the histories. A grim look covered his face, but then he gave in and bowed his head. “Of course. I acknowledge your authority. This battle has us all in knots.”
Everyone stood silent, as if waiting for Bakari to speak.
Then Alli laid an arm on his shoulder, “Bak, I believe Mericus is on our side…at least for now.” She scrutinized the judge with a solemn look. “Many good people have committed crimes in the past; let’s let Mericus prove himself before we dismiss him.”
Bakari nodded. “I must go to Celestar. I need to see what has happened.” His eyes teared up again. “Oh, Erryl, my friend,” he whispered.
“Is Abylar strong enough?” Alli asked, sounding worried.
The dragon snorted, tossing his neck from side to side, as if in answer. A few sounds from the city below floated up to them. Bakari heard a few people clanging swords and yelling.
“Yes,” was all he said. But he sent a silent message to Abylar: We can’t take revenge, my friend. That won’t solve anything. Bakari didn’t know if he believed this himself, but it was the right thing to say, and he needed a break to think. We need to go and honor the fallen guardians.
“May I leave and take care of my troops?” Mericus asked, getting back to the business at hand.
Bakari nodded, so Mericus began walking away. But, before he left the roof, Bakari called out to him, “Mericus, I will be back. I will accede to Alli’s judgment for now, but peace is my goal. Peace for all of Alaris. If that is your end also, I welcome your help. But, if not…” He left the rest of this sentence unsaid.
Mericus nodded and then headed down the stairs to the city below.
Alli put her arm around Bakari. “Bak, you have become a dragon rider indeed.”
Bak slumped down on a bench. “Oh, Alli. I don’t know what to do. I never asked for this.”
“Bak, I always knew you were destined for greatness,” Kharlia offered for encouragement. “I must admit, though, I still don’t understand half of what is going on. But, I am never leaving my dragon rider again.”
Bakari grinned. This was the fierce young woman he remembered. Those few weeks together, with him and Kharlia on the run, had brought them close together, and Bakari now realized how much he had missed having her love and support.
“You are doing well,” Alli said. “You stood up to Mericus.” Alli smiled, her green eyes sparkling.
Bakari laughed, but the mirth did not reach his heart. “Yes, I did,” he said. “Who would have thought I could do that? Roland would be proud of me.”
“Oh, yes. I am sure that arrogant boy would be.” Alli laughed again, this time more fully.
With this thought of Roland, Bakari felt something else stir inside him. Something was calling to him. He frowned and closed his eyes to concentrate.
“Bak, what’s wrong?”
He felt Kharlia touch his arm.
“Is it the guardians again?” Alli asked.
Bakari only shook his head and put up his hand to stop their questions. Then he dove deep inside the power again. There was something there. Something new. Oh, he felt so exhausted. He felt the pain and sorrow from the death of the guardians. Their wounds—still fresh—almost overwhelmed him again. It was all he could do to push them aside.
He also felt Miriel there and even a brief presence of Breelyn. He would need to think more about that relationship later—he was still learning about the powers of a dragon rider. Bakari pushed all those thoughts aside and opened himself up further to the power. He drew on the strength of Abylar—the power of the spirit, a strength that was recently reduced and weakened but still one with a mighty and immense reservoir of power.
He pulled his mind into the stream of magic and chased after…a voice. Memories of Roland popped back into Bakari’s mind. Many thought that Roland was only concerned with popularity, women, and power, but Bakari knew—deep down inside—that his friend was compassionate and caring and really did want to do the right thing.
Then Bakari thought he heard Roland’s voice.
Bakari, it whispered.
Following the voice deeper, Bakari focused his attention northward, toward the Citadel, and then it came stronger, filling his soul.
Bakari, help me! Roland’s voice pleaded in a tone of deep agony. Bakari, I need you now! the voice said louder.
I can’t come now! Bakari thought. I need to go to Celestar. He needed to see the guardians. They had fed Abylar’s life force for years. They deserved Bakari’s compassion and support.
Please, Bakari, the voice said with a mournful cry. Then it faded away.
As Bakari opened his eyes, they filled with tears again, an occurrence that seemed to be happening all too often this day. Alli and Kharlia were still sitting next to him, but the sun was now an hour farther down the horizon, so evening was only a short time away.
“Bak?” Kharlia prompted.
“It’s Roland,” he replied.
Alli stood up.
“He needs me,” Bakari said.
“Needs you?” Alli frowned. “I don’t understand. I thought you were going to Celestar.”
Pain passed through Bakari’s heart, and he struggled to hold himself together. He shook his head from side to side. “I’m being torn into pieces, Alli. I can’t do this all by myself. I can’t.”
You are not by yourself. This faraway thought came from Miriel.
Compassion showed in Kharlia’s eyes, and then she hugged Bakari, allowing him to stay there, in her arms, for a few moments as he composed himself once again.
“You’re not alone, Bak,” Alli said. “You have Kharlia, me, Roland, and others. I can go to Roland for you.”
Bakari frowned. “Not this time, Alli. I have a feeling that he really does need me. And I need you here, to watch over Mericus. I still don’t trust him.”
“Alright.” Alli sighed and her lips pursed into a faint pout. “I understand.”
“Kanzar will attack Orr next. You must be ready,” Bakari said. He walked over to Abylar and let go of Kharlia’s hand to mount the dragon.
Looking down at Kharlia, he saw the tears running down her brave face. She thought he was leaving her. No way!
Bakari stretched his left hand down toward her and grinned. “Get on behind me.”
Wide-eyed, she stood for a moment as if not sure of what to do.
“It’s wonderful, Kharlia,” Alli said. “But don’t let Abylar’s flying make you sick. He likes to play around up there.”
I don’t play. Abylar pouted as his words, spoken to Bakari’s mind, were related to the two girls.
They both laughed. Alli came over and patted the young dragon tenderly. “He’s a fine dragon, Kharlia. I can’t imagine his feelings of loss right now. But it really is wonderful to see the world from his back.”
Abylar turned his huge head, lifting it to Alli as if nodding his thanks to her. Bakari pulled Kharlia up behind him.
“Tell Roland I said hello,” Alli said in a sudden rush of words.
“I’m sure he will like that,” Bakari said back.
“What do you mean?” Alli frowned now. “Well, then don’t say anything to him. That arrogant wizard…”
“Alli.” Bakari stopped her. “As a friend, I will tell him hello for you.”
Alli nodded her head, her cheeks flushing pink.
Then, as Abylar lifted himself up into the air and began the flight northward, toward the Citadel, Bakari wondered what his friend had gotten himself into this time.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nagasi, current Regent of Mahli, glanced around the table. Sitting with him for the council meeting sat nine people: one elder from each of Mahli’s four main cities; Regent Nagasi; his son, Regent-Elect Kolo; Zaire, t
heir military adviser; a scribe; and an elderly wizard named Imari. Except the wizard and the scribe, all wore their dark hair long, hanging down in dozens of braids. Their skin was brown, but their differing shades gave hints to mixed heritages in their pasts.
Nagasi had been regent since his father’s death, twenty years earlier. As regent, Nagasi understood that, one day, the true king may appear and retake his throne. This was what the regents did—try to rule fairly while holding the throne in readiness for their king. Sometimes these true kings came once in every few generations; sometimes hundreds of years separated their returns.
The Council of Elders sat in a closed room in the regent’s wooden castle in the middle of Amar, the capital city. Mahli was a small kingdom, in terms of numbers. Surrounded by a ring of tall, snowcapped mountains, the isolated kingdom did not have many that ventured in or out of it. The valleys between its tall mountains made for excellent grazing of cattle and contained rich soil for vegetables and fruits, many of which were unique to the mountain kingdom. It was not as large as the kingdoms to the south—Alaris, Elvyn, Tillimot, and Quentis—but it traded mostly with the territories to its north—Khazer, Turg, and Cyrene—with an annual ocean trip even farther north to Gildan and the Realm.
Being an isolated, yet hard to reach kingdom had kept Mahli at peace for many years. Her people were sturdy, self-sufficient, and hardworking. They were also extremely stubborn. And today was no exception.
“You are all aware of the prophecy as much as I am,” Nagasi said, standing to make his point. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the tips of some of his braids more gray than black. Sometimes he felt he was getting too old to rule a stubborn people. But he worried what his son, the regent-heir, would do to their people.
Looking each participant in the eye, Nagasi continued, “It has been a long time since a dragon rider has appeared in Mahli: over one hundred and fifty years. Never have we gone so long. The world, during this time, has almost forgotten about how great we once were.”
“We can be great again, Father!” Kolo said, his face a younger and less-wrinkled version of Nagasi’s own, but holding an almost permanent scowl.
Nagasi put his hand up to quiet this outburst, for he was not done speaking yet. “The last prophecy said that a dragon rider would arise when the need was greatest. This man would bring us out of obscurity and into the world and would bring peace to the kingdoms around us.”
“And you think this prophesied dragon rider is this boy from Alaris? He wasn’t even born here,” Kolo said, voicing his opposition again.
Some of Nagasi’s other councilors nodded their heads at that.
“Some of you met Bakari. You cannot deny that his heritage is from Mahli,” Zaire said.
“He did not stay here long enough for most of us to meet him,” said Tadaaki, one of the elders from the west. “Alaris has been closed off for one hundred and fifty years. Now, all of a sudden, our dragon rider appears from there. I don’t like it.” The man crossed his arms.
Nagasi saw a small smile spread across Kolo’s face.
“I have seen him,” Kolo said. “And I am still not convinced.”
“You saw his dragon, too, Kolo.” Zaire’s dark brown eyes gazed intently at Kolo. “How can you deny he is a dragon rider?”
“I don’t deny he has a dragon—one whose egg seems to have somehow been stolen from us to power the barrier around Alaris!” The veins stood out on Kolo’s muscled neck. “Maybe he is out gathering an army now, to overrun Mahli.”
“Sit down, Kolo,” Nagasi commanded. Kolo slumped back onto his seat. Nagasi turned to his scribe and asked, “Is there anything in the library archives that can help us decipher this mystery?”
“There is a small, ancient book of prophecy,” Tuma, the scribe said. “But the dragon rider asked to take it with him to study.”
Nagasi watched as his son’s eyes grew large and his mouth constricted in anger. Kolo was too temperamental to be regent. Nagasi worried about Kolo’s influence on the other councilors. There were at least two councilors that seemed to be in Kolo’s pocket.
“Do you know what was in the book?” Nagasi asked Tuma.
The small man nodded. “It is a history of the dragon riders throughout time, as far back as we know. Dozens of occurrences have been documented. Each time a dragon rider has appeared, the first one draws other dragon riders to him. He becomes their leader and ours.”
Kolo stood up again, and Nagasi took a deep breath. Looking to the wizard, Nagasi said, “Imari, you have been quiet.”
The elderly wizard was the eldest wizard in Mahli. It was rumored that he could remember being there when the barrier first went up. “Bakari means royal promise. So his name seems to be a portent of the truth.”
“Don’t hide behind your fancy words and hidden meanings, old man,” Kolo said, turning to glare at the man. “What do you know of any of this? You’re just a fading wizard.”
“That is enough, Kolo,” Nagasi said as he slapped his hand on the table. “If you can’t be civil here, you will leave.”
Imari put his hands up in the air, his colorful wizard robes sliding down his bony arms. “I am fine, Nagasi. Kolo is just young and untrained.” A slight smile seemed to be trying to push its way out, but Imari kept his lips under control.
Kolo sat back down and glared at the wizard.
“Go on,” Nagasi prompted Imari.
The wizard put his hands together into a steeple on the table in front of him. “Dragon riders have indeed not been seen since the barrier went up. Before then, they came every few generations. And they have always been through the same ancestral line, since the beginning.”
“How can this youngster, Bakari, be him then?” Akar, the eastern elder asked. “He’s been living behind the barrier.”
“Ahh. Now that is my story to tell,” Imari said. “I won’t go into all the details at this time, but I did play a part in the forming of the barrier. In the end, I took the last descendant of the dragon riders and brought him to Alaris, to a small city north of the wizards’ Citadel. I needed to ensure that his posterity would stay safe until dragon riders were needed again.”
Kolo grunted in apparent disbelief, and Nagasi silenced him with another look.
“All these years,” Imari said to Nagasi, “the bloodline was preserved in that man’s descendants, even until Bakari was born. He is a direct descendant of the dragon riders and dragon kings of old, my lord.”
As conversations broke out between the elders and Kolo, Nagasi let them talk amongst themselves. He knew that nothing would be resolved that evening anyway. Turning to Imari and Zaire, Nagasi asked, “With the fall of the barrier, do you think we can expect aggression from Alaris again?”
Zaire spoke first. “The dragon rider thought we should expect harm, at some point, if Kanzar wins rule of Alaris. Our forces are small, mainly only trackers and such, with a few trained men on the northern border. We will need to recruit people from Khazer and Turg and maybe Solshi to help us.”
Nagasi nodded, signaling for Zaire that they would make that plan happen.
Imari, the elderly wizard, seemed to take his time answering. The man was so slow sometimes, that he seemed like an elf in his patient and unhurried way of speaking. Maybe just getting old did that – the wizard was the oldest person alive in Mahli.
Eventually, Imari spoke. “I will try to contact the wizard school, in Gildan, or the wizard conclave, in Arc. I’ve even heard of a new school for wizards, in the Realm, that has existed for the past ten to fifteen years. Ever since the Realm got a new wizard king, more wizards seem to be showing up in the North. Maybe they have also heard of the prophecy and could send reinforcements if needed. Though, I don’t truly know if they can arrive in time.”
“We are a hard kingdom to reach,” Zaire admitted.
“By design, my friends.” Nagasi lowered his voice as he continued, “If this Bakari is the dragon rider and will be proclaimed King, he will find the other rid
ers first. Then Kolo and the others won’t be able to deny it. If the young man never returns, then maybe my son is correct.”
“I will send a messenger bird to them.” Wizard Imari nodded. “In the meantime, I think we should reinforce the southern roads, just in case of an invasion.”
Nagasi turned back, to take control of the meeting. “In time,” he said to all of them, “we will see if this Bakari is the true dragon rider or not. I admit he is young, but age does not determine strength or nobility.”
“Father,” Kolo said, “we have come up with another plan.”
Nagasi raised his eyebrows.
“With the backing of some of our illustrious elders,” Kolo continued, “I will lead an expedition to find another dragon egg.” Kolo looked smug, as if he was extremely pleased with himself.
Nagasi shook his head in embarrassment for his son. “Kolo, you cannot force yourself to be the dragon rider.”
Kolo stood up and moved behind his chair to use his full height and size to his advantage. “I will, Father. I will be the prophecy.”
“You cannot force prophecy, boy,” Imari said.
Looking around the room, to all present, Kolo puffed his chest out and said, “No one can deny that I am of Mahli. Wouldn’t you rather have someone you know as your king?”
Many in the room nodded, but Nagasi didn’t know if he could. At this moment, he rather hoped young Bakari was the prophesied one. His son would not be a good regent or king. Too greedy and filled with a thirst for power. But maybe the trip would do him good. When he didn’t find a dragon egg, Kolo would then bow to Bakari as Nagasi was sure the rest would do one day.
“You have my leave to do so, Son,” Nagasi said, to Kolo’s surprise. “Just don’t get too frustrated if you don’t find one.”
“I will find one,” Kolo said. Then he turned and commanded the scribe, “Find and document all the books having to do with the dragon riders and their eggs, Tuma. We leave in three days.”
The meeting broke up after that, and Nagasi returned to the wing of the building that was his home. Nia, his wife, walked up to him, her hips swaying nicely. After all these years, he loved her fiercely and still found her very attractive. She pulled on his hand to get him to come and sit down next to her. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.
