by P D Atkerson
Aroron let go of the blade and stepped back.
Almost as soon as he did, the little heads on the pommel of the blade, moved and twisted. The eyes flickered open and the two little dragons pulled away from the sword and took to the air.
Aroron stumbled back, realizing just a second ago, those two creatures had been part of the sword he’d held in his hand.
“They’re…they’re…dragons!” Aroron stuttered, staring as they flew above him.
The High Elder roared with laughed, as he pounded his staff against the ground. “It’s called the 'Dragon Blade' for a reason. You definitely weren’t chosen for your brain!”
Ignoring the High Elder, Aroron watched as the metal dragons flew higher into the sky. In a matter of seconds, the dragons were the size of the ones from legends. Bigger than Hunter’s cabin. That’s when they began their work. As they circled the castle, fire flowed forth from the dragons’ mouths, melting the thick layers of ice and snow that covered the stone below.
Water gushed down all around them. Where it was going, Aroron couldn’t even imagine. All he knew, was that when the dragons were finished, a glittering white castle stood where the dark and gloomy mountain had once been.
The Dragons swooped down, once again no bigger than someone’s hand.
For a minute, they circled around Aroron’s head, then they landed upon the sword guard. They wrapped around the hilt of the blade and grew still again. Once more turning into nothing more than metal, or at least that’s what they looked like.
At the same time, men, women and children spilled out into the court yard. Looking dazed and sleepy.
“My people, the Dragon king has come at last!” The High Elder yelled, placing his hand on Aroron’s back. Aroron looked up from his sword and glanced around, realizing everyone was watching him.
Aroron’s throat tightened, and he found it hard to breath. There are so many of them! He fought against the urge to turn around and run. “Hello.” He mumbled, holding up his hand.
A whisper quickly spread through the crowd, and Aroron wished he hadn’t said anything at all. But the High Elder didn’t seem to notice any of it.
“Tonight, we celebrate the ‘Awakening’. But tomorrow, we prepare for the Great War to come!” The High Elder yelled, as he moved towards the crowd and motioned them back into the castle.
“Are you coming?” Lilay asked, noticing Aroron still lingering outside once everyone else was already inside.
Aroron looked down at his sword still stuck in the ground in front of him and shook his head. “Just give me a minute, alone. Don’t worry, I’ll find my own way.”
Lilay looked at him for a second, frowned, and vanished through the archway.
When she was gone, Aroron wrapped his hand around the grip of the sword, and for the first time, he felt the warmth from the dragons, spread through him. “I am the Dragon King.” He whispered, tightening his grip as he yanked it out of the ground.
* * *
Even far off in Karlay, when Aroron plunged the Dragon Blade into the ground, the earth shook and trembled.
King Munay was sitting upon his throne, when he felt it. The second he did, he knew what it meant. He jumped up and hurried out onto the balcony.
Dasety (who stood near the throne) hurried after him.
King Munay gripped the railing and stared out over the Dubh-Woods, to where a thick white cloud had risen in the sky, just past the Winter Valley. For a second, he saw something dark within the white mass.
“It’s happening, Dasety.” King Munay said. “He’s awoken the Elouns from their thousand-year slumber.” He whispered, the color draining from his face.
Dasety slowly nodded his head, unable to turn away from the far-off cloud. “Yes, my lord. It would seem, after all this time, the Second Great War has finally begun."
Munay tightened his grip on the railing. "We need to find the girl. We must use the Heart!" he growled. "Bring Enrick to me. It's time we had a talk about his proposal.”
