The Dragon War

by Salvador Mercer

  They clearly heard the sound of the creature as it impacted a stone and wood building within the castle itself. Zokar couldn’t contain himself and he ran to the edge and peered over. “Diamedes, come look at this.”

  Diamedes looked at the High Mage for a second but couldn’t see the man’s face and therefore had no idea if the man was smiling in approval or scowling in disapproval at the pair’s actions. Curiosity getting the better of him, he took a few civilized and measured steps to arrive next to Zokar and look down between two crenellations at the sight below.

  The white dragon appeared injured by its fall, but it was alive and moving. Looking back, Diamedes noted the staff was no longer emanating the beam of light which was too reminiscent of a story that the historian had heard a year earlier from a certain ranger. Free of the magical, paralyzing beam, the dragon was struggling to unfold its wings from the rubble and take flight. Several other dragons hissed in anger at the attack and flew faster in various circles preparing to do battle with the High Mage.

  “You can do this to a dragon?” Zokar said in disbelief, turning from his bent over posture at the wall to stand and face the Kesh leader.

  The eye light twinkled and a voice, soft and soothing again said, “I can do this to many dragons.”

  The High Mage raised his staff and murmured words that weren’t heard last time. Several beams of light shot out at various dragons nearby and the entire area was illuminated by the same hued light that was mainly white but shifted with hints of color much as the Mage’s eyes did beneath the impenetrable, dark hood of the man’s robe. Both men felt the icy tinge of paralysis come over them, but Diamedes had his dagger and Zokar had his amulet firmly attached to a necklace out of sight from everyone.

  The beams of light smote several of the beasts, at least one large red dragon, a blue and two greens. All seemed to stop in mid flight as they keeled over and plummeted below the topmost level of the Onyx Tower. Diamedes and Zokar stood in awe as they looked around them at the display of power beyond comprehension. They almost missed an even larger red dragon that swooped in from high above.

  “Watch out,” Diamedes was the first the call out a warning.

  More murmurs and suddenly the dragon hurled a ball of fire at them at close to point blank range. The magical sphere rose again, and the dragon hit the outer edge with an audible thud and disappeared momentarily behind its own fire as the force field like orb arrested its momentum. Unfortunately, the lead edges of its breath weapon managed to get inside the sphere and Zokar had to fall on top of Diamedes to shield him from the intense heat despite the small amount of flames that had gained entry through the High Mage’s defenses.

  The dragon scrambled on top of the sphere as if it was made of glass. Its massive claws scrapped at the energy shield as it scrambled to the pinnacle of the orb. It looked down through the force field at the humans below and its eyes narrowed in obvious contempt. It roared in defiance and then leapt into the air with its mighty wings beating to propel it up and away from the Onyx Tower.

  The flames that had managed to enter the sphere before it formed had burnt Zokar’s back slightly but seemed to have no effect on the Mage himself who had simply basked in its warmth. Sounds of destruction came from below as the dragons that had been paralyzed and plummeted to the ground below exerted great effort to regain control over themselves and take flight away from the crossbows and pikes of the guards that were now attacking them at ground level.

  “Are you alright, Diamedes?” Zokar asked, lifting himself off the smaller man.

  “I should ask you that,” Diamedes said, rolling over onto his back and grabbing the Balarian’s outstretched hand to assist him in standing. “Your cape is burnt.”

  Zokar unclasped it and let if fall unceremoniously to the ground where it was smoldering from the heat but not yet on fire. “That was close.”

  The High Mage spoke, “My apologies. That is their leader and I was timing its approach to injure it against the tower’s defenses. It appears my judgement was slightly off as it arrived sooner than I anticipated.”

  Zokar went straight to the point, “If you can do that, then what are you waiting for? Kill those beasts now and free the land.”

  There was silence as the High Mage turned and looked back to the north in the same position that they had found him when they arrived. The man took his time before answering. “You know not what power awaits me. I alone can end this conflict and restore order to this world. You must only follow.”

  Diamedes and Zokar looked at one another and then back to the High Mage. Diamedes said, “You attacked and surrounded Ulatha. You started this war against the Kingdom of Tyniria and brought the Northmen south to plunder and pillage. Why would you do this when the draconus have risen from their slumber and threaten our very existence?”

  “They did not rise on their own accord,” the High Mage explained. “I woke them prematurely from their slumber.”

  “Why?” Diamedes and Zokar asked in surprised unison.

  “In order to sap their strength and thin their ranks.” The mage said. “This was a preemptive strike executed to defend ourselves.”

  “You risked our realms for this?” Diamedes asked.

  The High Mage did not look back at Diamedes. Instead he peered north speaking softly. “Everything is expendable in the quest for true power. The staff of power must be retrieved from Akun bringing back balance to both our worlds. Only with the divine artifact of my forefathers can we prevail.”

  “Was attacking Tyniria and Ulatha necessary in your quest for power?” Diamedes asked.

  “I had to secure the portal when the transit aligns the gateway between our worlds,” The High Mage said, matter-of-factly.

  “Secure the portal?” Diamedes ventured.

  “Of course,” The Kesh explained. “Astronomically I have deduced that it will open precisely at perigee between our worlds and the portal will be at the very northern end of the Earlstyne Forest in Ulatha. Nothing can stop us from making the transit when the gates align.”

  The men stood in silence as the battle sounds below diminished. The dragons appeared to be wrapping up this night’s attack and preparing to depart as their circling of the Kesh fortress was taking longer, more circuitous routes. The dragons were keeping a wide berth of the Onyx Tower and its defender. This did not go unnoticed by the High Mage’s visitors. “They fear you.” Zokar said.

  “Yes,” The High Mage answered. “They are wise and cautious without their home world to strengthen and protect them.”

  Diamedes didn’t need to take notes, he had an eidetic memory that included not only sight, but sound as well. He could recall most everything he heard. Clearing his throat, he knew he had only once chance at setting the record straight and revealing secrets that had lain dormant for eons. “You’ve found a way to bridge the gap between our worlds.”

  It was a statement, not a question and the High Mage confirmed it, though with a twist. “The portal was never secret. The draconus have used it for eons to plunder our world and feed themselves the bounty of Agon’s efforts. In fact, the ancients used it ten millennia ago to flee their destruction.”

  “How do you know this?” Zokar interrupted, though he continued to stand at the eastern edge of the tower a good distance from the other two men.

  Diamedes was a bit impudent and answered for the High Mage as the revelation struck him. “He was there.”

  “Impossible,” Zokar stated.

  The High Mage spoke next, tilting his head slightly so that Zokar could hear him clearly, “The Royal Historian is correct. Your comrade is a thousand years old. I knew his father well. I am ten times that age. I was here when the ancients abandoned us, curse them and both their races. It matters not. I shall set matters straight as the time nears and long-ago grievances shall be rectified with retribution paid in return for those who have made us suffer.”

  The intermittent shifting in pronouns, between I and we, was confusing at best. It appea
red to Diamedes and Zokar that when talking of glory and setting matters straight, the High Mage used the singular pronoun, but when referring to the sins of the ancients and other races or species that were offending to humans in general, the pronoun was plural. Diamedes asked, “You knew Damien’s father?”

  “I said I did,” the High Mage sounded offended slightly. “Our business is concluding here now. The draconus will retreat for another fortnight and then gather again as is their custom. I shall be ready until the two worlds are at perigee and then I will take back what was rightfully ours. You, historian, may memorialize this event for all posterity to know the details of how the Kesh defended Agon and brought peace and order to its realms. The people must know whom to serve.”

  Zokar broke with protocol at the Mage’s last words, “You would trade one tyrant race for another?”

  “Hardly,” the High Mage started to sound bored now as the excitement of the attack wore off. “Kesh has always been at the forefront of civilization and without my protection the world would wither and die. You are simply too insolent to acknowledge the truth.”

  Diamedes motioned behind him with one hand to silence Zokar without taking his eyes off the High Mage. “You will spare my life then?”

  The High Mage did turn to face Diamedes at that point bending slightly over to face him directly with twinkling eyes under a jet-black hood and a pulsating staff gripped firmly in his left hand. “You seem selfish suddenly in your question.”

  “To the contrary,” Diamedes began, “I came here prepared to die with the sole intention of saving our world by convincing you to cease this warfare between our realms and to concentrate our efforts on defeating the draconus.”

  “Yes,” the High Mage said in a soft and tranquil tone that tugged at Diamedes’ senses. “You may convince the Tynirian imposter and his Ulathan minion to wage war on the dragons and allow the Kesh free reign to move throughout the region. Then we shall have no further need for conflict between ourselves, but remember this, Historian. These traitors to Kesh did not heed our call when we first warned them. They brought this conflict upon themselves. To that end, you may continue to work and convince them to follow my lead.”

  “You will recall your army in Ulatha?” Diamedes asked.

  “No,” the Kesh answered. “It will remain at all costs to secure the portal.”

  Diamedes stood for a moment pondering the words of the High Mage and what his next course of action should be. For some reason, the Kesh leader seemed content to straighten his posture and observe the withdrawal of the dragons from Keshtor. Summoning what courage he had remaining, Diamedes spoke, “I will travel to the realms and convince them that your leadership should be followed if ever we are to prevail against the draconus.”

  “Excellent,” the Mage said. “One word of warning, Master Diamedes. Do not bring the nature loving Arnen into this conflict or I shall exact vengeance on every man, woman, and child from your homeland.”

  “Understood,” Diamedes said.

  “Good, now go then, both of you. Your companions are trying to flee the draconus, but they have a rather nasty black one that has them trapped in the merchant quarter. It should withdraw shortly, but even the Akun cleric would have a difficult time in resurrecting anyone that was melted by acid.”

  “How do you know this?” Zokar asked.

  “The eye sees everything,”

  “Thank you for your time,” Diamedes said to the High Mage trying to beat Zokar to the punch, but he was too late.

  Zokar asked, “The bounty on Master Diamedes head has been withdrawn? I am an official representative of the guild and will testify to our council if you confirm it.”

  “It was withdrawn long ago,” the Mage said simply, turning his attention north. “Ensure you receive my small gift from the Major Domo on your way out.”

  Both men nodded habitually not thinking whether or not the Mage could see them. Diamedes couldn’t help but try and be gracious, “Thank you for allowing us to have an audience with you.”

  The two men reached the open staircase when the Mage made one last statement. “Your failure, Master Diamedes, saved your life.”

  Diamedes nodded saying, “I would have rather been successful and dead.”

  When the Mage said nothing further, the pair descended until they reached the main entry level and met the steward who said nothing but offered a small, silk pouch that Zokar took. The main door opened on its own and the men stepped out into the cool night air.

  Zokar rubbed his hands together and then used them on his shoulders. His cloak was still atop the Onyx Tower and he felt the cool air. “Well, that went better than I had hoped.”

  “I dread asking,” Diamedes said, too bluntly for his usual self.

  “I know,” Zokar explained. “You know I thought we’d both be dead by now.”

  Diamedes nodded motioning to the main gate of the courtyard to their south that was open for them. The three sentries had not moved, and no others were visible. As they walked the historian turned to Zokar saying, “We may very well still die soon. The night isn’t over yet.”

  Chapter 8

  Delays

  The pair searched throughout the northern part of the city but could not find their companions nor the black dragon that the High Mage referred to. At one point, they did come across a crushed in building, a tavern by the looks of it, with several people in various states of dissolvement as acid had eaten away at their bodies, some more than others based on the proximity of the dragon’s breath weapon. If their companions where at the center of that mass, they would never know as no one was distinguishable.

  The High Mage was correct in that the dragons were withdrawing. It took another half hour before the commotion in the streets died down and few people ventured outside any building that was intact. An occasional patrol marched by at a quick pace heading to the north in the same direction that the dragons had retreated to. They all but ignored any human of any nature no matter how suspicious their appearance could be. It was obvious that they were focused on only the invading dragons this night.

  Understanding that they had to hope for the best and stick to their plan they moved east taking shelter in a stable that mainly housed livestock as horses had always been in short supply. They had to use a stall with hay that wasn’t covered in blood as at least one enterprising dragon had raided this particular stable of anything living. The pair did not want to try to enter an inn and explain themselves on a night such as this. They both agreed it was probably for the best since every building they passed had blacked out windows and bolted doors. No one would willingly open a door this night to anyone.

  They slept fitfully and awoke before dawn to exit the city. They traveled till the sun had passed high overhead and they had reached the third wayside business as per their plan. There was a little tavern and inn known as the Traveler’s Toady and it had a large, green frog wearing a silk outfit with a top hat and a mug of ale in one of its webbed hands. The business was friendly to the Balarians and the owner was a contact for the guilds and would do business with them. To their chagrin, their companions were nowhere to be found.

  “Did you get a room?” Diamedes asked from his table at the rear of the great room slightly off to the side of the fireplace that had its small fire die that morning. The rock lined hearth still gave out a good amount of radiant heat and it warmed the historian’s sore muscles.

  “I got three,” Zokar said, pulling up a chair and motioning the waitress for their drinks.

  Diamedes tilted his head slightly, “You’re optimistic today.”

  The waitress brought them their hot tea with lemon and honey and the steam rising from it was a welcome sight. Using the sugar bowl, both men sweetened their drinks and stirred them a bit allowing the piping hot beverage to cool before partaking. Zokar answered, “We survived an audience with the most powerful man in all of Agon and lived to tell about it. Even with a bounty on your head by the High Mage himself. What’s not t
o feel optimistic about?”

  “Our companions for one,” Diamedes answered. “I don’t feel dread over their fate, but I’d feel better if I knew where they were. Are you sure this is the place we were supposed to meet them?”

  “It is,” Zokar said, blowing on his cup and risking a burnt lip and tongue to take a sip. His grimace showed it was a tad early yet despite the added honey and sugar. “We know this place well, Damien, Dour and I. The owner is in the employ of the guild and we have a standing arrangement with him for… shall we say, discretion, when necessary.”

  “How long will we wait for them?”

  “Hard to say,” Zokar tried again, persistent if nothing else. “We planned a full day at least, but any time longer than that and Dour had protested saying he was sure he’d be wasting time since the High Mage would have disintegrated us on sight.”

  “But he didn’t,” Diamedes noted.

  Zokar nodded putting his cup down and wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Now that’s the real rub. How in Agon’s name did we manage to survive? I still can’t fathom that much less actually receiving an audience with the man.”

  “He’s the leader of Kesh, a major ally of your realm, Balaria. If anyone would know the answer to that question it should be you.” Diamedes remained patient waiting for his drink to cool slightly.

  Most every negotiation or summit held between our realms has been attended by proxies. Sometimes the governor would go from my realm as a representative of our triumvirate, sometimes it was one of the guild masters. In all of my life I have no memory of any meeting with the High Mage directly. That’s what struck me as odd about what we accomplished last night.”