by LJ Davies
"That didn't stop such things from happening, though, did it?" she added, falling silent as her news effortlessly broke through my emotional shield.
She's right, how many have died in this war since I left? How many places have the orkin raided or vulpomancers wiped off the map? The thought forced me back into a reclusive silence as she reluctantly moved away.
All that suffering and I can't even tell her I'm sorry correctly.
*
After eating, the four of them drifted off to sleep, allowing me time to creep out onto the ledge. The roar of the waterfall rushed by, engulfing the cliff face in cold mist. Amidst the gloom, I saw a fiery flicker dart between two rocks, and glanced over to see the phoenix watching me. This time I didn't entertain the idea of talking to it. Instead, I folded my wings around me like a cloak.
My eyes fixed on the only break in the gloom, the stars far above as most of my thoughts lingered on my friends. Against all odds, with the help of a kooky old dragon, and Apollo's strange, arcane magic, they'd found me.
How could I ever ask for better? I don't deserve to call any of them friends after all I've done.
"So, lost pieces return to the board," the distinctively raspy voice hissed as Mordrakk’s illusion flickered into existence beside me, eyes cast out over the tangled forest.
"I thought I'd already won your little game?" I answered, not even affording him the luxury of a glance.
His response was less than swift, and I could sense his underlying fury.
"You defeated nothing, and even if you had, there are still many others who continue to suffer because of your actions," he snapped.
"So you are admitting that you're tired of taunting me?" I challenged. "Or are you just not as all-powerful as the real Mordrakk?"
His head whipped back to face me with the speed of a striking cobra, and my scars immediately began to burn under the intense heat of his baleful eyes. Wrapping a dark claw around my muzzle to force it shut, he continued.
"What knowledge you have of my existence isn’t important. What you think you know of the universe beyond this world is but a speck of dust in a sea of cosmic transgressions. You are not the centre of any of that!" he warned, shaking my muzzle to emphasise every syllable.
"And you are?" I countered, shaking my head and forcing his limb to fade into smoke.
"If you knew of all the horrors creation has produced, you would not be so swift to blame anyone, and yet you are the only one stopping it from finally being free," he accused.
"That's not what you want, though, is it? That is just your excuse to hide the truth. What you want to do is destroy everything because you lost it," I pressed.
He smiled, waving a menacing forepaw over the forest.
"Not if you are right. If you are, the darkness you fear, and I, are not the same. The Outsider uses my image to see its will carried out, and its wish is to annihilate this creation fulfilled," he added, his flaming eyes daring me to say otherwise.
"If you are right, then isn't the being that has been corrupted by your…" He pulled back, waving a distasteful forepaw toward me, "… beguiled mind. The real Mordrakk?"
Like I'd ever believe he's the real Mordrakk, this is a trick of some kind, surely. The moment he realised what I was thinking, his shadowy fangs parted with a wicked smile.
"I cannot deceive what you have surmised for yourself. For then who is the one being tricked?" he questioned, before fading into the mist.
I grunted as my scars stung, shaking the lingering glow of his toothy smile from my vision.
He can't be right. He's the deceiver – that's what he does. I assured myself. Yet I'm the one who came up with the idea he may be different to the monster at Ilivar.
I slumped at the thought, aware that the self-concocted idea was the only reason I'd left my icy hiding place.
"I am sorry, Guardian, do forgive the intrusion, but I could not help noticing that you have isolated yourself," Apollo's cheerful tone surprised me.
I suppressed my urge to jump in alarm, my head sinking as I acknowledged his arrival.
"I've been isolated for a long time, I'm fine with it," I confessed.
"Of course, I do apologise for making any incorrect assumptions," he answered.
"Don't be... it's not like anyone else is."
The metallic hawk landed on a rock beside me, claws tapping like polished gemstones.
"It is peculiar, is it not? How this world has changed? You are worshipped as a saviour, and yet you think so little of yourself," he observed.
I glanced back at him, his glowing innards illuminating the icy cliffs and snowy banks around us.
"I don't think anyone intended for things to turn out like this," I confessed.
He has a magical way of knowing things, maybe that's why he's always trying to explain. I thought to myself, even if everything he said was confusing.
"The descendent female, she told me of all that you were," he stated primly. "She never allowed anyone to think you were gone, and I realised just how alike to the old masters their kind really are: gracious, determined, loyal and loving. A truly fitting legacy," he reminisced, and for a moment, it almost sounded as if he choked on a millennia's worth of nostalgia.
"What was it like? Before all of this? I mean, I know, I saw it..." I trailed off before confessing. "I have dreams, or memories, about the Golden City, the Ethereals and the drakaran."
Images of golden spires, the regal forms of star dragons flying graciously beneath a majestic sea of cosmic rainbows and gleaming starlight crossed my mind. Followed by the image of the lone dragoness, staring out over a sea of devastation as the burning world loomed beyond the desecrated horizon.
"I would imagine such impressions still linger in your mind. After all, the memories of most of creation lie somewhere within your forged consciousness," Apollo explained.
"As for your question," he added, looking back out over the cliffs.
"I do not recall much. Most of my core memories were removed from my recollection talisman the day I was reassigned to protect the Arcanum. Therefore, I was not permitted to access any other lexicons post-reassignment," he replied as if he were ashamed of being unable to recall.
"Goldfire, that's the dragoness I always see in my – or their – memories," I told him, and his feathers ruffled as he perked up.
"Indeed, Guardian, Seraphine Goldfire was her full name. She was the elder sister of my former mistress, lady Ilfaria, although she disappeared long before my time," he explained, as if glad of the reminder.
"So you do remember some things?" I pressed.
His avian frame forged into a vaguely happy expression as he nodded.
"Why of course I recall such widely known things. What I fail to remember is the plan of the creators. Compartmentalization, no doubt," he chimed.
He clearly thinks he knows who I am, but what doesn't he know? Does he know what happened that day atop of the spire? Does he know what became of Mordrakk and Nakir, who I really am?
I thought to ask, but the idea didn't strike me as a good one, especially considering he liked to talk so much.
I can't have him accidently tell the others something they're better off not knowing.
Even so, he seemed content to recount the life he'd once had, telling me everything about his time in the golden city, as if wishing to explain it all before his listener could be stolen.
"Ilfaria, Seraphine and their brother Phaethon were the descendants of the two drakaran hierarchs, Teeana and Balthazar. Their dynasty was one of the greatest among the stars, yet during the first centuries of war with the Infernal Blade, Seraphine disappeared."
I did my best to indulge him as he went on about a time long before Mordrakk's corruption. Wars fought and won in an ancient age.
And here I just want to focus on the evil I have to stop right now, not monsters of the past.
"You must understand that all of this was before my time, long before even the time of the Darkness," Apollo confir
med as he rambled.
"In fact, many lexicons hold legends proclaiming how Goldfire founded the mortal descendants upon Enishra, although how and why she did so are not clear to me," he concluded.
I nodded intently, but most of his words went over my head. That was, aside from ‘Seraphine’.
Is she really the dragoness I see in my dreams? But why, she's never spoken to me before?
"And what... what happened to the rest of her family?" I quizzed, and his plumage seemed to deflate.
"The truth of Seraphine's ultimate fate upon this world remains unknown to most. As for the rest of my mistress’s bloodline? They died, as did all of my masters the day the Golden City fell silent," he explained with a hint of sorrow that betrayed my assumptions about his emotions.
Shame overcame me as I considered the ancient day I'd first failed to stop Mordrakk. It was entirely my fault, and it was hard to believe everything that had transpired since could have been prevented if things had gone to plan millennia ago.
How can I say I trust either of them though? Nakir and his cryptic legends are just as sinister as Mordrakk's blatant goal of annihilation, they're both wrong.
"I'm sorry," I confessed, staring down at my paws.
"I doubt that any of them would blame you for what transpired," he responded.
"I'm not what they made me to be. I'm..." I faltered the moment the truth was at the tip of my muzzle.
"If anything, the fault for such a reality lies with me. I was designated to protect the Arcanum that day – and I failed," he admitted.
Silence lingered between us as I neglected to reply, and continued to stare out over the cliffs.
"Do forgive me, it is not the place of a lowly construct to say such things about my masters, Guardian."
I shook my head, dismissing his words with a wave of a forepaw.
"None of that matters now, no matter what anyone says. We're a few millennia too late for formality," I added with a smile. "And what about you, Ilfaria and the others? You were all there the day this began, so what do you believe?" I asked with a glimmer of hope.
He paused, pondering his answer carefully.
"I lack the capacity to say for myself," he began. "Although I know my mistress would have believed in you, I have no doubt of that. As for her sister, well if the tales about her are true, I have no doubt she would have found you worthy of her legacy too," he confirmed, beak moulded into a smile.
"Then I really hope they were right," I admitted.
He didn’t reply, and after a moments’ silence, disappeared back into the cave with a respectful bow. Leaving me to watch over the cold darkness embracing Shadow Fen’s forests.
Chapter 4
Broken Bonds
Light broke through the darkness of the forest in a sickly hue. It seemed the one good day of sunshine I'd seen over Shadow Fen's border was all it had to offer, as gloom now hung over the decrepit land like a blanket.
The day that followed attested to that, as rain mixed with half-melted snow. I was thankful that we spent most of our time on the wing, above the thick mist and twisting branches. The vast thicket sailed by like a mangled sea, swarming with thorns and crooked limbs reaching out like gnarled hands to drag some unsuspecting victim into the gloom. For the most part, I watched the sky for ebon wings or manticores, but the only threats I saw were the faint flickers of fire from orkin camps.
The nights were no different. I spent them sleepless beside the fire, distancing myself from the others as I'd done countless times before. I could feel the pessimism about them all, yet no one seemed angry, just unsure. I even considered running away again, but it felt like that would simply bolster Mordrakk's accusations. I really didn't want to give him any advantage over me. Surprisingly, his anger had faded, as if he'd accepted everything I'd told him and simply moved on with his sinister plans.
The only other thing to garner my attention was the Cartographer's phoenix. The arrival of my friends had not deterred the fiery bird, although it still lingered out of sight in the trees or boulders. I was never oblivious to where it perched, and as the days went by, I felt I had to ensure its safety as much as the others. Every night I would check on all of them from a distance, before finding a comfortable vantage point on which to stand watch. Each time the world seemed to grow a little darker, and before long, I started to attribute that to more than just the foul aura that clung to Shadow Fen.
It seemed things had changed more than I'd imagined, and sometimes it felt as if I'd not left my icy tomb at all. It wasn't hard to see the effect it had on the others either, and that did nothing to stave off my guilt. They were looking to me as a glimmer of hope, yet I was anything but.
The pressure of our predicament finally surfaced the day we reached Talon's Rest, or at least what remained of it. Soaren was first to land, his armoured claws touching down with a muddy splatter as his broad wings folded, his grim expression unchanged as the rest of us landed behind him. The stench of smoke filled the air, while black plumes drifted up into the cloudy sky. Cut into the cliffside above the wicked trees, the settlement was broken by several tiers of muddy earth, divided by a gushing river.
Charred wood and smouldering thatch was all that remained of the griffin structures. The vast web of tree-like nests, bridges and ropes was similar to what I'd seen in Storm Peak. In the past, I may have looked upon the devastation with deep sorrow, but now, a yearning emptiness filled my heart.
It's just the same as every other village I've seen in the past few weeks. No matter how hard I try, evil always gets to them first.
Months of watching the orkin in Valcador had made me all too aware of the signs of a raid. Amidst the scattered muddy imprints of taloned feet and paws, were larger manticore prints. Additionally, the stained walls carried the scars of sorcery, a technique preferred by the orkin who inhabited the dark lands to the west.
This was hardly a fortress; it was a village with families! My rage boiled as I realised I wasn't the only one assessing the situation.
"Fires curse those beasts!" Soaren growled, stamping a clawed gauntlet in the mud.
I made sure to approach carefully, moving to his side so I could peer down at the river running between the cliffs. Apart from some collapsed bridges and rope, there was no sign of any corpses, though the revelation didn't bring any relief.
I know what they do with prisoners. I recalled, thinking back to Taldran.
"What do we do now?" Neera asked.
"We need to find somewhere to nest for the night, we can continue to the overlook at daybreak," Soaren replied with a hint of regret.
Looking back at the others, it seemed none of them completely agreed, even Apollo looked doubtful. Meanwhile, I concealed my concern as much as I could.
They don't like it, because it's not right. But moving on is the only realistic option.
"We should head up to that ridge line, at least there we can see anything approaching," I suggested, motioning to the cliffs.
Soaren took a long look in the same direction, studying the area carefully before finally nodding.
"Very well, at first light we press on along the eastern Shadow Fen border, until we reach the south-western edge of the Storm Mountains," he agreed, stepping forward and taking off.
As the others followed, I noticed Risha staring over the smoking ruins. I thought to say something to reassure her, but what was there to add?
This is the reality of our new world; she knows that as well as I do?
"It brings back memories, seeing places like this," she admitted.
Shying away, I recalled what she'd told me of how her family had perished. That just made it harder to come up with anything to say. When she glanced my way, it was clear she knew exactly what was going on in my mind, and without another word she took to the air, and I soon followed.
*
The small rocky outcrop we landed on was no different to any other nest of the previous few nights, and once again, I soon found myself perched h
igh on a cliffside ledge protruding from a cave mouth. I sat there for most of the night, watching a cold fog roll in from the hills and shroud the trees below. My eyes fixed on the swirling void, noticing every shift or flicker in the distance as bats darted between the foliage. Other than that, there was nothing to see except for the distant glow of the phoenix roosting on the cliff above us.
After a few hours, the tapping of claws on stone and the splashing of paws in shallow pools caught my attention. My sudden movement disturbed the rainwater that had settled on my armour as I turned back. In the same instance, the droplets stopped hitting me altogether. Perplexed, I glanced around to see it bouncing away, as if hitting an invisible dome. All the while, Risha stood behind me, the blue marking on her forehead softly glowing as a portion of her concentration focused on keeping us dry.
"I... I didn't know you could do that," I admitted, even though it made perfect sense and was the last thing I knew she’d want to talk about.
"There seems to be a lot of things you don't know," she responded, in a curt but calm tone.
I couldn't help feeling that the situation was more treacherous than flying through a thunderstorm. Realising there was no way I could change how she felt, I tentatively responded.
"Risha, I'm sorry, but if you knew…" Her expression hardened.
The rain around us fidgeted, her wings ruffling as she muttered.
"If I knew what? That you could come back from the dead? Well, it's a shame you already threw that revelation at me."
She looked to be battling back tears as she scuffed a foreclaw at the ground.
"Everyone thought otherwise, they all thought you were gone. The only one who didn't think I was crazy was Neera, and they believed her even less!"
I looked back into the rain, droplets kissing my wings as her concentration faltered once again.
"You knew that wasn't true, you're the smartest dragoness I know," I offered, but my reply didn't change the look in her eyes; in fact, it appeared to make things worse.
"Yes, and I had to spend all of that time thinking... Thinking I'd lost you – not because you were dead, but because of something even more dreadful," she exclaimed, stepping forward.
