Aware of my brother’s stubbornness, Aranath secreted a low growl from the depths of his neck to remind Alex not to be too headstrong about a simple question.
Getting the message, Alex replied, “I rarely knew exact distances. If a nismerdon added his prana, then it was a long way. Even without a nismerdon right there, we could use their prana crystals and runes to take us miles through rock and water.”
“Well, we don’t have a nismerdon, but we still have some of their prana, the brute force of corruption, a dragon’s prana, and a scholar. Ghevont, I presume you can recreate the Advent runes.”
“Of course. Or, I should be. I’ve yet to encounter their destination runes, however. I assume your brother has seen one or two.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah, I guess I have. I think I can mostly remember how it looks, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s indeed what I want. Correct, Mercer?”
“Yes, that’s what you want. How far do you think we can teleport with the prana we have?”
“That will depend on several factors. What distance do you have in mind?”
“I’m thinking Alex and I could carve a teleportation rune when there’s no other way to escape Degosal. You and Ujin will watch over the destination rune somewhere in one of the smaller islands around Degosal. That can mean a hundred miles between the runes. Will that be doable?”
“Hmm… On top of your corruption, you will likely have to expend the prana of a filled dragon crystal on your end. As long as I am ready with the nismerdon crystal on my side, I do believe I can help link you with the destination rune from such a significant distance.”
“Ujin should be able to add his prana as well. Even without serious training he’s been able to summon two different creatures. Won’t that make him good at teleportation spells as well?”
“In theory. They are comparable spells after all. Nevertheless, I would first like to test his ability with short distance teleportation spells.”
“Do it. There’s no great rush, but with Aranath almost fully healed, I want to get to Degosal and learn whether we can repel fiends or not. If we can’t, then we can forget all about it and move on to other things.”
I sent Aranath back, and Ghevont and Ujin went to see if the sages found the dragon knight journals yet.
To the last one remaining, I asked, “This Degosal mission doesn’t sound too treacherous for you, does it?”
“Depends. Am I going to have to strangle every fiend that attacks, or can I get an actual weapon?”
“I’ll give you the best sling I can build with my bare hands.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
“Uh, no. Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You used to play with a sling. I thought you suddenly remembered something.”
“I see. No, a child’s sling doesn’t sound familiar to me.”
“So you found your family even without a memory to go on.”
“Our family, brother. You may not like them much, and I may not remember them, but they are ours nonetheless.”
“You’re not going to make me meet them, are you?”
“No. I’ve sent a message saying you’re alive and with my group, but we’ll need time to sort things out. I kept things vague in case you do snap or run away.”
“I won’t snap. I have my corruption under control.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, Degosal should offer a good opportunity for two corrupted brothers to let loose their depraved power. My skin is tingly just thinking about it.”
Chapter Six
Peladelle Castle. After hours poring over old journals, the sages and Ghevont learned the last dragon knights had narrowed their search for the regurgitating portal to Peladelle’s grounds. They had done some reconnaissance in and around the castle, but with the dragon war promptly getting out of hand, they were forced to cut their investigation short. They concluded the gateway must have been located underground or concealed by some other method.
Peladelle lied over three hundred miles from Degosal’s northeastern coast, which in itself was about forty miles from an island chain that stretched up to and ran alongside Vlaukris’ southeastern shore. I hoped to put Ujin and Ghevont somewhere on the archipelago, but without more information, I did not yet know if any of the isles closest to Degosal were even safe enough to put people on for a short time.
While not too enthused to learn a technique that stole time from my other training regimens, I practiced casting regular fire. I began by manipulating candle flames and torches. That turned out to be trickier than anticipated. For the most part, my prana doused the comparatively delicate combustion. If I failed to drastically curtail the instinctive amount of prana I used for dragon fire, the flame I grabbed would act as though I placed it in a howling rainstorm. What proved an even tougher adjustment was sparking a flame out of nowhere. All this was going to take time to figure out.
I flew on Aranath four days after the diviner revealed the Degosal path to me. He and I worked on getting our endurance back up and to ensure his wound had healed properly. On the second evening of flapping and bending his wings in every practical angle, the dragon landed on a mountain ledge overlooking a small waterfall dropping into the forest.
Slapping the back of his neck a couple of times, I said, “You look like your old self to me. Do you feel like your old self to you?”
“Quite so. My body has always mended well.”
“Is that a compliment to yourself?”
“I suppose it is. The blood of some dragons tend to overreact to a wound. They grow too many scales over pierced skin, or broken bones become too hard and brittle.”
“And you worried that was going to happen to you?”
“It’s been a long while since I’ve been wounded.”
“Well, I hope we don’t have to find out whether your bones or organs can heal normally.”
“I doubt you can resist placing me in such situations.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Nonsense, boy. Never hesitate to call upon me. I am in your debt. There are not many beings in any realm who could offer me worthwhile experiences outside my confinement.”
“Oh, uh, I wasn’t expecting for you to answer so…” I cleared my throat. “I’m thankful for everything you’ve gotten me through as well. It’s the main reason I want to pay you back by going to Degosal and earning your freedom.”
“I’m aware. A self-destructive act by almost anyone else, but as someone who has demonstrated the ability to balance the power of fiends and dragons, I’ve come to believe you are not merely ‘anyone else.’”
“I will take your praise to heart, Aranath.”
“As you should, knight.”
The time had come to head out to Degosal. Ghevont’s experiments with teleportation runes provided him with the best rune designs to use for his nismerdon crystal and my dragon one. As I suspected, Ujin adding prana specialized in summoning enhanced the distance at which someone could be teleported. Of course, with limited prana crystals to test with, we could not be certain exactly how increasing the distance by miles would play out. Be that as it may, I trusted all the prana between us contributed to at least one lifesaving trip.
I received my repaired armor and a cloak hood reinforced with some dragon scales the morning we left the sages. Except for one of the scales sticking halfway out the top of my hood, one needed to stare closely to notice the rest of the natural armor plating lining the inside of the hood. It took no time for me to get used to the paltry new weight on my head, though I noticed I had to make sure my hood was always pulled as far up as it could go or it tended to slide down. Annoying, but far less annoying than a crack in my jaw or skull, even if my corruption could heal such an injury much faster than before.
Aranath needed two days to fly out of the Imperial Forest, which became less dense and wet on Vlaukris’ side of the greenery. With the countless trees providing a nigh impenetrable natural defense, Vlaukris patr
ols were few and far between. The bulk of the nation’s military forces were concentrated in the west, where it shared a border with six smaller kingdoms. They also defended part of Quell, a huge lake west of the Imperial Forest. To the east were Vlaukris’ major ocean ports, leaving the center of the kingdom predominately devoid of major population centers and standing armies.
It surprised me how arid the center of the country became after only a day of flying out of a great jungle. The culprit seemed to be a dry wind blowing through much of the hilly landscape. Given the smattering of small trees and widespread shrubbery growing in soil that mostly lacked sand, it wasn’t a true desert, but it would not take an overlong drought to make it so. So bereft of good farmland and large rivers, Aranath could fly low without having to concern himself with alarming anything more than the infrequent shepherd out with their grazing animals.
Aranath flew toward the southeast during the fourth day of travel, as the maps we looked at showed no towns on the coast directly opposite the corrupted island. At the end of that same day, we came upon Regvet, a port town at the edge of the shunned strip of shoreline known as the Deadlands. It was a sleepy, slightly dreary kind of town. As we were several shades lighter than the inhabitants, they immediately recognized us as strangers, and though none moved to be actively unwelcoming, none moved to be actively welcoming either.
In a tavern that smelled of fish guts, our answered questions let us learn about the various outposts the Vlaukris military occupied in the Deadlands to watch out for any corrupted that made it across the shallow Salhurst Channel. The primary outpost on the eastern side of the channel rested on an island in the Tesmisbor Archipelago. We made for this isle fortress early in the morning.
Three or four hours later, Aranath spotted the teardrop-shaped stronghold sitting atop a two mile long island rising fifty feet above the water. The dragon pulled in his wings to make his dive. He landed a hundred yards in front of the gate. His passengers jumped off him and walked ahead of the dragon. To not make it seem as though we were aggressors, we stopped walking halfway between beast and gate and simply waited for the fort occupants to respond. Despite rainclouds approaching from the west, the sky directly above spilled unbarred rays of sunlight, giving the watchers on the towers and walls a clean view of the visitors.
Several moments later, a squad of a dozen griffins flew out of the courtyard. Half of them touched down a few yards ahead of us. The lead rider, a black haired, gray mustached man, bore a smokescreen of confidence as he urged his kingclaw forward.
I bowed, then said, “I am Mercer Eberwolf, dragon knight of the Warriors Guild. Who am I speaking to?”
“Helder Avat, commander of Deromin Fortress. What brings a dragon knight to my domain? Is trouble near?”
“Degosal is always trouble, commander, and it’s why I’m here. My forbearers almost cleared the island of fiends, only for the dragon war to foil the undertaking. I desire to someday finish their mission. I first need what information you have and an outpost to work out of. May we discuss the matter in depth within Deromin?”
“Of course! Of course! For decades I and those who came before me have requested more aid, only for my leadership and the guild to disregard our pleas. Unless fiends are at their doorstep, they believe we have everything under control.”
“Yet they won’t dare send you and your men to a more hospitable place, will they?”
“Indeed.”
“Well, I can’t promise I will succeed in making your duty obsolete, but I can promise to try and make it so. In fact, I need for you to order your men not to spread the word that I’m here. I don’t want to raise the hopes of Orda just yet. This is simply an introductory visit.”
“I understand. Please, follow me.”
The end of the morning and the afternoon consisted of talking, eating, and looking over records and maps. The commander’s head scribe already knew about the dragon knights’ interest in Peladelle Castle. Vlaukris’ largest incursion into Degosal occurred over two centuries ago, and their aim was to reach the castle. However, with seemingly every fiend on the island attracted to the unsullied meat, the army stalled halfway to the objective. That experience made it clear a dedicated coalition of several kingdoms would be needed to find the rune portal and cleanse the blighted landmass forever.
Scamps and harpies made up the majority of the aggressive pests, though accounts of corrupted hounds, trolls, and unnamed monsters existed as well. The soldiers could do little to dwindle their numbers. Their job was purely to contain. They tracked and killed harpies wishing to build nests beyond Degosal’s shores, and as corruption sometimes revived a drowned body, they also had to ensure anything lifeless floating in the sea stayed truly and permanently dead. Once in a while, Vlaukris sent in a ship or two of soldiers to sweep problematic areas and deal with them. Clearly not an often enough event for the commander’s liking.
The nearest outpost to Degosal’s northeastern coast was essentially a glorified lighthouse on an islet dubbed Grissel’s Watchtower. A squadron of griffin riders, which included the commander, led Aranath to the watchtower at dawn. As they described, a rectangular fort no longer than fifty yards took up half the steep-walled island. Much of the crevices in the rock grew a brownish green algae, and there appeared to be a lot of crevices. The robust lighthouse belonged to the western wall.
Inside, the commander introduced us to the two dozen fort keepers. Half were winged scouts while the other half had the ability to summon a sea creature. Once they were brought up to speed on my identity and mission, they showed my scholar and summoner the room to carve their destination rune in. Ghevont gave me and my brother several copies of the rune design he preferred we use to connect to the original. To be extra cautious, I etched the design on a rock in case the parchment got wet, torn, or burned. Regardless, I trusted my capacity to recall it from memory if need be.
I let Alex visit the fort’s diminutive armory to pick out what he wanted. He ended up changing into a set of currant colored leather armor overlaid with steel tiles. The red mantle covered much of his new attire. He also obtained a steel helm with a visor, which he wore. Given the number of perforations in the visor and the wide slot for the eyes, the helmet looked half-finished. As for weaponry, he choose a short sword with a curve at the end, and a pair of long daggers.
With the rune and our provisions set, I wasted no time in heading for Degosal’s coast to assess what potential we had to repel fellow defiled. Aranath flew above the curls of fog drifting across the channel. In a few minutes the dragon’s vantage point allowed me to detect the burnt orange terrain of the ruined Degosal. It took half an hour for the dragon to glide over to the Corrupted Island’s saw-toothed edge.
There were no signs of fiends as the dragon landed, but the slightly less mad ones evidently knew better than to roam the coastline and fall victim to sea or solider. Not a shred of green or life could be seen anywhere. It was all dark rock and cracked dirt sprinkled by a fine layer of ochre sand. A swirling wind from the channel mixed the radiating air warmed by the sun with the fresher air from the water. I unsummoned Aranath to remove his presence as a reason for the fiends to stay clear of us.
I jogged farther inland, aiming for a rocky hill to survey the barren scenery. My shy brother hid behind the visor as he followed. On the hilltop I saw another pile of rocks to sprint for. Without anything else drawing my attention, I kept up this pattern numerous times. The wind often kicked up sand and dust, limiting a clean view of the vista. In any case, a hazy outline of a ruined town drew my attention about two hours since arriving.
On getting a little closer, Alex, who ran on my right, stopped. I stopped with him. The cocking of his head prompted me to focus my hearing. A great deal farther to my right than my brother came the outcry of sick dogs and birds. We headed for a short dune made up of sand on boulders. From its rounded peak we spotted two dozen harpies swooping down on a similarly numbered pack of hounds. Seeing his chance to test how fearsome his corrupt
ion was, Alex hurried down the dune. My shorter strides lagged behind.
When the corrupted creatures noticed the human, those not already engaged with fang or talon charged at him. Despite not being trained for it, I sensed the invisible wave of corruption Alex forced out of himself. The beasts felt it as well. They screeched and howled as they slowed their attack, though they started to surround him. Alex, widely slashing his sword, shouted at the top of his lungs, getting the ravening beings to answer back with their own reviled yowls.
I switched to my corrupted prana when I ignited a dragon stone. That pulse of power emitting from the black dragon flame got the scrawny, hairless dogs whining and the harpies to flap higher. Each pulse between siblings got the fiends to back off farther and faster. An explosive stone thrown up in the sky scattered the lot of them. Without numbers supporting them, Alex lunging at those remaining compelled the rest to retreat. With our point made, I extinguished my flame.
“We should avoid groups any bigger than that,” I said.
“Afraid to fight?”
“Your dead god should know I’m not. I do fear wasting so much prana that I can’t summon Aranath or teleport us out of here. Even the great Alexandros Eberwolf should be afraid of that.”
“Yet I’m not. Killing a few fiends would have driven the rest off. I didn’t need your help.”
“Then you should have told me you wanted to test out that theory. I would have given you permission.”
“I don’t need your godsdamn permission to do anything!”
“Yet you do. Your decision making hasn’t exactly proven to be stellar, unless you still think sacrificing your life and power to Omen was a good idea.”
“I told you, I wouldn’t have been dead for long. You’ve seen for yourself what a nismerdon’s power can do. Omen would have revived us easily enough.”
The Dragon Knight and the Steam World Page 6
