A Selfless Sacrifice

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A Selfless Sacrifice Page 18

by Paul Cude


  Standing up from a kneeling position, the squat (in dragon terms) guardian of the repository strolled purposefully over to the his escorts walling off the entrance, and putting on his most sincere smile, attempted to lie his ass off.

  “I’m done here,” he said, all unicorns and rainbows. “It just needs testing and so I’m going to need to borrow some of your ethereal energy so that I can power the crystals and get a message back to Greger.”

  “What!” exclaimed the most impatient one of the them, the one that had just spoken up. “The king never mentioned anything like that. We were just supposed to escort you here and make sure you stayed safe. What’s going on?”

  Stomach feeling like there was an out of control bowling ball bouncing around inside it, and up to his neck in it without any way back now, the librarian pressed on.

  “I have strict orders from the king himself to get this working at any cost. As far as I can tell, it is, but I need to test it before we leave. And that means sending a message back to the monarch. To be able to do that, I need some of your mana to jump start the crystals into life. A little bit from each of you should do the trick.”

  “I’m not sure I’m too happy about that,” replied one of the others grumpily, having hated every second of the miserable journey up here, the vicious winds and pelting rains of this crazy island and now the idea of this.

  “Then what do you propose we do?” asked Orac angrily, now really getting into his role. “We fly back home, tell the king that we think it works, but that we couldn’t test it because you wouldn’t help? I can only imagine he’d get all four of us to fly straight back here, and do it all over again. Is that what you want? To let down the monarch and to be admonished by him?”

  He left it hanging in the air, hoping he’d done enough... no, sure that he’d done enough, fully ware that although they might be some of the best warriors around, with the exception of his friend who was a leap and a bound above them all in that department, they certainly weren’t the brightest bulbs in the box. Knowing that they were all discussing this telepathically, he waited to see just what they would decide, reasonably sure he could predict the outcome.

  Nearly a minute, that’s how long it took for them to make a decision.

  “What is it you need us to do?”

  “I just need to cast a few mantras first. After that, I need you to open yourselves up to me so that I can tap into your mana. It should be straightforward, and with all three of your sharing your gift, it shouldn’t take very much out of you. After that, I’ll attempt to use the crystals to boost my telepathic contact in an effort to seek out the king. It might take a while, because nothing like this has ever been done before,” and, he thought only to himself, ‘because that’s not the first thing I’m going to do.’ “After I’ve conversed with the monarch and gotten his approval, we can all go home.”

  Their relief on hearing this was almost palpable.

  “Okay,” continued the one in charge. “Give us the signal and we’ll be ready to share.”

  Nodding respectfully, Orac turned and went back to checking the crystals, a smug smile engrained in his prehistoric face at having bested the dragons that all assumed they were superior to him. Of course they were when it came to battle and anything fighting related, but that shouldn’t be all there was, should it, he thought. And so, in the darkness of the cave, over the constant howl of the wind, and with the three dragon onlookers opening themselves up to share their magic, having been persuaded to do his bidding, the librarian mouthed the final few words within his mind and, reinforced by the ethereal energy of his companions, sent his conscious will off in an effort to find his target, in totally the opposite direction to that of his king.

  It felt... exhilarating, strange and utterly terrifying, his intellect branching out on its own. Okay, it wasn’t his first time. On many an occasion he’d had to contact some of the clerks in another part of the capital, or one of the lookouts on the outskirts of London, but this was a different matter entirely, he thought as his psyche soared above the shadowy dark ocean, heading north instead of south, watching out for landmarks that he’d engrained into his eidetic memory so that he could do just this, in the hope of contacting his friend in an effort to make sure he was alright. Not quite instantaneously, but fast, faster than any dragon could fly, that was for sure, Orac’s conscious will zoomed quicker than the speed of sound above the waves, banking a little left at the start of a mountain range, all the time on the lookout for half a dozen frozen fjords, having opted for a different route entirely to that of his friend and the party of diplomats, probably because they’d had a slightly different destination in mind because they’d had to rendezvous with their escorts, whereas he could head straight for the capital Axalangst, knowing that his friend For’son, should already be there by now. Worried about the little white lie he’d told to the guards in the cave with him and by omission, the king as well, the dedicated librarian soldiered on, concentrating hard on not letting his mind wander too much, seeking out the desired landmarks, inside wondering what the capital city of this last remaining land would look like and whether or not it would live up to its foul and heinous reputation. Shortly, he would find out.

  Resembling gigantic, majestic statues on the lush green lawn within distance of the bubbling and writhing lake of molten magma, For’son and his group of diplomats stood deathly still, waiting for a contact of any sort from what were supposed to be their hosts, their worry increasing with every minute that passed, nearly all of them convinced that something was very, very wrong, none more so than their leader, who, could he have gone back in time, would most certainly have done, and not have agreed to this mission in any way shape or form, and not just for his own sake, but for all of them.

  With more than a hint of fear in her voice, it was Fanti who broke the shrouded silence of their minds across the joint telepathic link, startling more than a few of them, particularly those still meditating.

  “I... I... I don’t think they’re coming. Have we done something wrong?” she asked, “or committed some indiscretion we don’t know about?”

  “If I had to hazard a guess at this point,” ventured For’son, “and that’s all it is, I would suggest, very much like our first encounter, that this is some sort of test, to determine what we do, how we react or just how patient we are. Don’t forget, apart from this very dubious back channel meeting that is sceptical to say the least, our two lands haven’t encountered each other for over five hundred years. Much could have changed in that time, particularly the levels of paranoia. Keep still, focus your minds, eek out all the possible outcomes of what’s to come, think about the potential problems and solutions... don’t forget we’re here to bring these beings back into the light, and given what we’ve seen so far, that should be our highest priority. Even if we have to wait here all night, we will, just to show our patience, attitude and the respect that we have for our hosts. From now on, keep the chat to a minimum.”

  With that the link went silent, all of those with him thinking about their leader’s words and how best they could distract themselves from the perilous state of affairs they found themselves caught up in.

  All but doubling back on himself, Orac’s mind cut through what looked like a treacherous mountain pass, lined with dark green pines, scraggy rock lines, hazardous drops and unsound build ups of snow, just waiting to drop at a moment’s notice. Swallowing nervously at the danger of it all, well... back in his motionless body anyway... his intellect ploughed on regardless, knowing that he shouldn’t be far away now. Hopefully once out of the mountains and across yet one more body of uncomfortably cold looking water, if he were correct, the renowned city should be directly in front of him, only a short way beyond the shoreline.

  Drifting across the chilly breeze, not that he could have noticed, just before dusk, the librarian’s conscious will suddenly caught sight of Ahrensburg’s jewel in the crown, the capital, Axalangst. Much like his friends only a few hours earlier, h
e gaped in wonder at the exquisite architecture, the beautiful colours and the picture postcard scene, that is, until he got much closer. Cutting in from across the sea, he wasn’t afforded quite the same view, nevertheless, the poverty, abuse and slavery were clearly evident, even from where he was. Pushing aside the sickening sight, his mind fought to regain its focus and the target it was seeking. Zipping up high in the hope of getting a better overall outlook, Orac was suddenly surprised as the previously hidden higher tier of the city swam into view on top of the cliff. He was noticing it for the first time only now, because he’d come in on a different trajectory across the harsh, dark sea. Rising steadily, determined to take it all in, suddenly he spotted the stand out sight almost directly in the middle of it all, shining bright like a beacon in the dark. No, I’m not talking about the lake of molten lava, its orange and red contents wriggling and writhing, the steam from which rose over a mile in the air before it started to disperse. I’m talking about the instantly recognisable, blue shaded brilliant personality that stood out like someone wearing clothes on a nudist beach, his friend and the being his mind had travelled all this way for... FOR’SON!

  More than a little sceptical about his whole adventure and worried that the bolstering effects of the crystals might cut out at any moment, instinctively Orac’s psyche did the only thing it could in the circumstances... it altered course and, punching through the air, accelerated forward towards his friend.

  Motionless in front of the other diplomats, the hissing and popping lake of lava at their backs, the shaded blue leader of the delegation used every technique he knew to try and calm himself down and suppress the impatience within him that was starting to bubble to the surface. Abruptly, out of nowhere, his mind started to ring like a church bell on Easter Sunday.

  Whether because of the crystals or the added mana from the guards back on the island at the entrance to the cave, as Orac’s consciousness flew directly into his friend’s mind, the only word to describe it from the librarian’s point of view was... DIFFERENT! It felt as though he’d flown straight into a bog, and a muddy one at that. He was barely able to think, let alone move, now that he’d arrived at his destination. Struggling to come to terms with exactly what had happened he did the only thing he could... he called out.

  “FOR’SON!” The word reverberated around his head in a voice that was strangely familiar, piercing the violent ringing that had started only a moment or so before.

  “Orac?”

  Attempting to find his bearings, and more importantly, shake the mental mud from his mind, suddenly his friend’s dulcet tones echoed throughout all of him.

  “For’son!”

  For the first time in centuries the brave and mighty warrior, royal protector without equal, was knocked off his feet, caught totally unaware, well... spiritually as opposed to physically, unsure of what to make of what was going on, wary that it might be some sort of trap, given exactly where they were.

  “Orac... is that really you? What’s going on?”

  Regaining his composure as best he could given the circumstances and the journey of a lifetime that he’d just embarked upon, oh and the fact that his mind was separated from his body by thousands of miles now, the repository guardian attempted to explain what had just happened, how he’d sneaked one of the crystals into his belly pouch before they’d departed, and how it was they could communicate with one another. To say that For’son was blown away was an understatement.

  “Does the king know that you’re here with me?”

  A long, uncomfortable silence hung in the air, so much so that the bright blue warrior dragon almost thought that their communication had ceased through some sort of technicality... almost!

  “Orac?”

  Taking a long, deep breath, which of course only happened back in the cave on the Scottish Isle thousands of miles away, the librarian, torn about what to do or say, knew that he could never lie to his friend and so with that in mind, he just spat it out.

  “No... he doesn’t know I’m here. He thinks I’m in Scotland preparing the crystals and that my first test will be to try and contact him in London.”

  “Then why the hell are you here?” For’son asked, a little too angrily.

  “I... I... I was worried about the negotiations, and more importantly, about... YOU!”

  Now it was the warrior’s turn to take a deep breath and calm himself down, knowing full well that he’d over reacted to his friend’s actions, something with hindsight he could see far more clearly now.

  “I’m sorry. my friend, it was wrong of me to talk to you like that, and yes... I appreciate your actions, even if they did mean deceiving Greger.”

  “I just wanted to check that you were okay, that way I can report back to him that the crystals work and that negotiations are going well. Is that what I should tell him?”

  “Things haven’t panned out quite as we’d hoped,” For’son replied, for the first time using some actual diplomacy.

  “Why are you all standing out here on your own?”

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know. We were dropped off here by what remained of our escorts and that’s as far as we’ve got.”

  “What do you mean, the remainder of your escorts?”

  “Oh it’s no big deal, I just had to... fight one of them during our first encounter.”

  “And?”

  “And he ended up dead.”

  “Oh my... that can’t be good.”

  “It was either him or me, my friend, and I much prefer it this way round.”

  “I agree fully, but surely that’s not normal diplomatic behaviour?”

  “I think you’re right, in much the same way we shouldn’t be standing out here waiting for something to happen. I assume both are tests, but to determine what, who knows? Not me, that’s for sure.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I don’t think so, not unless you can make our hosts magically appear. I think we’ll have to bide our time and hope for the best. The rest of the team have severely frayed nerves at the moment, which I can’t blame them for.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, friend. I wish I could help.”

  “So do I. What are you planning to do next?”

  “Currently my body’s stuck on a Scottish Island guarded by three King’s Guards.”

  That made For’son chuckle, well inside his head anyway, something of a pleasing distraction.

  “I need to contact the king to let him know the crystals work in boosting telepathic range. Should I tell him about my contact with you? He’ll probably be mad at me for doing so, but I don’t care about that.”

  “Tell him, and blame me for everything, that’ll take some of the heat off you. Do you think you’ll be able to patch him through to me when you return to London?”

  “I don’t see why not. Will that help negotiations?”

  “Maybe... at the very least it can do no harm. Giving him a real time update would be handy, and he’d be able to answer any big calls, should the other side ask for something that I’m simply not able to give them. I won’t make them aware of what’s going on, that’s for sure. They’d probably never believe me anyway. I would suggest you return to your body and set about getting back to London. Tell the king everything, and don’t forget... blame it all on me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, friend. It won’t be long before I’m back, and when that happens we’ll spend many a night in the library discussing everything under the sun, of that you have my word... Safe journey.”

  “May your negotiations be profitable and brief.”

  With that, the contact between the two of them was broken, the considerable mind of the librarian tearing itself away, shooting back off over the white water of the breaking waves of the shadowy sea, much faster than it had arrived, homing in on his primeval prehistoric body back in the cave on the isle, taking the most direct route possible.

  Thirty seconds, that’s how
long it took for him to reach the inside of his own head, letting out a sigh of relief as he did so, his still form startling those that had lent him their magic for the wonderful northern adventure. Shaking off the feeling of disorientation, Orac came to his senses, shook his huge head, stomped his feet on the cold rocky floor and plodded on over to the guards, each of whom had closed themselves down on seeing him finish his experiment.

  “What did the king say?” asked the most authoritative of the three.

  “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” declared the librarian, not quite a white lie, but not exactly the truth either. “We should head back to London with great haste. There are some issues that I need to discuss personally with the monarch.”

  Turning to his two comrades, both of whom nodded back instantaneously to signal they were ready, all four of them bounded out of the cave and up into the cold, windswept night sky, heading south, back towards their home. Orac was pleased to have talked to his friend, alarmed at the fact that he’d had no choice but to kill one of the escorts sent out to greet them, and perplexed at them not being met in the capital. As far as he was concerned, the sooner he imparted all of this to the king in person, the better.

  Blown away, despite his stoic appearance, For’son could hardly believe that his friend had broken the laws of physics as they’d known them and contacted him from so far away... what an achievement. There and then a glimmer of pride shone off him for what his pal had done. He couldn’t imagine any other being across the entire planet coming up with something so outrageous, something so potentially life changing, it was absolutely remarkable. Pushing away all the farfetched thoughts about how Orac’s discovery might change the world, from reacting to natural disasters, quelling mistrust and unrest to just providing help and support where and when it was needed, the diplomatic leader turned his attention back to the here and now, disappointed that they were all still standing on their own next to the fluorescent orange lake of bubbling magma that, if nothing else, was keeping them warm and toasty.

 

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