Relic of the God

by Philip C. Quaintrell

“You think I would take my chances with you?” Faylen spat.

  “This is no trick!” Alidyr exclaimed, making his magical exertion appear all the more strained. “I speak… only the truth. If you don't ensure that Reyna is standing in front of the elven army… you lose. And who knows, you might still end my life when all of this is over.”

  Faylen sighed in resignation. “What are you proposing?”

  Alidyr kept his elation to himself. “I cannot hold up the cavern... and forge a way out.” He gestured to a cluster of smaller rocks with his chin. “If you can move those… we can tunnel back to the catacombs… and work our way back up to Nightfall. I know the way.”

  Again, Faylen took a moment to consider his words, but Alidyr feigned more exertion, forcing her into action.

  Faylen began to assess the compact cluster of smaller rocks. “Don't think for a minute that you will get out of the pit without me, Alidyr.”

  “It will take… two of us to repel the nightmares... that call this place home.” Though partially feigned, the strain was indeed taxing and Alidyr had no doubt that Faylen would be needed to escape the tunnels. He adjusted the shield, making it stronger over her head while she went to work.

  There was no keeping time in the semi-darkness. The energy required to keep the shield strong enough was starting to take its toll on Alidyr’s mind. A part of him wondered if Faylen was deliberately taking her time so that he would fade away and be killed under the rock. His sweat had completely drenched him now and sunk into his cuts with a settling sting. Faylen had disappeared from sight some time ago, but he could still hear her in the makeshift tunnel she had created. Using magic, the elf had melted through the rock, but been slowed down by the cooling process. Again magic was the key, but flicking from a fire spell to an ice spell in her current condition was proving difficult.

  Alidyr knew he would have blasted his way out by now, but Faylen didn't have the strength to hold up the cavern as he did. He would have to rely on her…

  “What... progress?” he stuttered. There was no reply. Alidyr had just enough energy to become irate. “Faylen?”

  Something moved through the tunnel, crawling towards him. The elf felt the weight of the rocks above all the more, wondering exactly what he was going to do if it wasn't Faylen who emerged. If he somehow survived the monster and the subsequent collapse of the cavern, Alidyr knew he would hunt Faylen down and flay her alive. If he survived.

  The wet, icy tunnel gave birth to Faylen’s dirty and bone-weary form. The elf practically collapsed at the mouth and her breathing appeared erratic.

  Her voice was hoarse. “I finished… some time ago. I’ve been trying to recover so you don't leave me behind.”

  “Recover? Or leave me as long as possible?” Alidyr didn't need to fake his fatigue anymore.

  Faylen met his eyes in the gloom and the two held a silent conversation. So far they had needed the other to survive, but once they made it back into the labyrinth they would be free to kill each other.

  “I know the way…” Alidyr repeated softly.

  “And I still have enough in me to end you,” Faylen clenched her fist and allowed Alidyr to see the stark lightning bolts.

  After a brief countdown, the two elves made a mad dash on all fours through the new tunnel. The ceiling held for the fraction of a second that Alidyr required to dive into the hole and crawl for his life. Faylen was ahead of him by several feet, but the rocks behind were beginning to crumble and seal the tunnel. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only the darkness of the pit, but he could tell that Faylen had made it out. Thankfully, moments before his legs could be buried, Faylen reached in and pulled him free of the raining debris.

  “Keep moving!” he warned.

  The two scrambled to the best of their ability and made it the extra few feet needed to escape the collapse of the entire cavern. It was impossible to see the cloud of dust in the pitch black, but Alidyr could feel it in his mouth. A cursory finger across the pouch on his belt informed the elf that he was without any more Nightseye elixir. As an elf the potion wore off, requiring him to make batches at a time; Alidyr let his head fall to the ground in dismay.

  “We’re going to have to use magic… to light the way,” he said.

  “I know,” Faylen replied from his left.

  Alidyr’s elven nose could smell the blood from both of their wounds and knew well that other, more sensitive, creatures would as well. “I suppose there’s no point… in hiding our presence.”

  Using the jagged wall to help himself up, Alidyr opened his palm and illuminated the tunnel with a hand of fire. Changing the spell’s structure, he condensed it into a ball and released it to float over their heads. The labyrinth was laid out before them like that of a hollowed-out cheese. The faintest of screams echoed through the pit, but its pitch was not that of a person. Alidyr’s hand naturally rested on the hilt of his magical short-sword and he was instantly grateful to the gods that he still had it.

  “Do you have your scimitar?” he asked.

  “No.” Faylen was standing now, but she clearly favoured her right leg and her left arm appeared to be swollen.

  Alidyr took a moment to check himself over and realised he wasn’t in a much better state. The shield had taxed him greatly, leaving his bones with a constant tremor and a headache that threatened to rob him of sight. There was something not right with his left hip, giving him an instant limp and a shooting pain up his back.

  “We cannot use magic to heal ourselves,” he warned. “We will need every spell we know to escape this place.”

  “Then I shall pray to Naius.”

  Faylen’s comment caught Alidyr off guard. “You believe in the gods? I thought our kin had given them up for false?”

  Faylen refused to meet his eyes, using the time instead to scan the labyrinth before them. “Not all of us. King Elym would have us forge a new way, but there are still those of us who keep the faith.”

  “Then we have something in common, Faylen Haldӧr.”

  The elf snapped her head around. “We have nothing in common!” she hissed. “You would use our gods as an excuse to flex your own power. Because of you and your master, I am forced to worship the gods in secret. You have twisted the purpose of Naius. He is the god of magic, our connection to the world. They would never help Valanis…”

  Alidyr had heard many elves argue similar points during The Dark War when the elves were really at each other’s throats. This was nothing new to his ears.

  “You are still a child, Faylen. You know nothing of the gods or my master. The things I have seen would shake your reality…”

  The distant screeching grew closer.

  “Perhaps this is a debate for another time.” Faylen straightened her back and tried to look as ready for battle as possible.

  Alidyr drew his diamond-edged blade. “This was debated before your parents were born…” The monsters started to crawl and slither out of the tunnels. “This is going to take both of us if we ever want to see the sun again. Do try to stay alive.”

  6

  The Big Picture

  Gideon was torn by the spectacle of images before him. Seeing Adilandra and even Galanӧr alive was incredibly elating, and the way Adilandra looked upon the dragons with an almost euphoric glee was wonderful, but seeing an entire city, a civilisation, burn right in front of them was harrowing. Besides the broken body of the savage queen, lying motionless in the arena, Malaysai was on fire from east to west and overshadowed by dozens of dragons. Torrents of fire burst forth from every one, melting homes and torching entire buildings until only cinders remained.

  The people burned too.

  From the highest perch, atop the towering arena, the three of them could see the Darkakin scurrying about like ants below. Those on fire could only run so far before death claimed them, dropping them in the middle of the streets. As wicked and truly evil as they were, Gideon couldn't help but think of the children.

  The evil that runs thro
ugh these people is inherent. Ilargo’s words were soothing, carried with the dragon’s emotions.

  Gideon looked to his right, where his companion sat as regally as a prince on the edge of the arena wall. His green scales sparkled with gold under the sun and his startling blue eyes seemed to pierce the Dragorn’s soul.

  That doesn't mean I have to like it…

  When this is all over, we will find our own way. Ilargo’s words gave Gideon hope, even if he didn't know what that future looked like yet.

  Adilandra’s gaze constantly shifted between that of the burning city and the swarming dragons above. Gideon could see the torment inflicted on the queen as if she wore her pain. He could also see the therapeutic effect watching Malaysai burn was having on her; she needed to see this. Galanӧr was standing close to his queen with his usual stoic expression; the elf wouldn't be leaving Adilandra’s side any time soon.

  “How has all of this come to pass?” the queen of elves finally asked.

  Galanӧr looked to Gideon and gave him a small nod, happier to hear a tale than recount one.

  “Beyond The Red Mountains, in the west, we found… well, they found us actually. You see there were these Sandstalkers and then Rainael -” Gideon cut himself off as he took a breath and tried to assemble a cohesive thought. “We found Dragons’ Reach. That’s where they’ve been living for the last millennium.”

  Adilandra looked at Gideon with an intensity that could match Ilargo. “Dragons’ Reach? Did you name it that... or did they?”

  Gideon looked to Galanӧr for help explaining the existence of Adriel, but his mental connection through Ilargo and the other dragons gave him pause. Galandavax landed behind them, mounting the stone seats and steps of the arena. His mighty neck arched high into the air and his incredible wings spread out, eclipsing the sun. Through Ilargo, the mage felt a part of the ebony dragon’s mind in his own. In that moment he knew that Galandavax was giving Adriel the entrance he believed the elf was worthy of. Gideon found the whole thing quite touching.

  How come you don't give me an entrance like that?

  Maybe one day you will be worthy of it.

  Gideon kept his smile to himself when Adriel slipped down and landed gracefully in front of the trio. His usual robes and long hair were as pristine as ever, matching the expression of calm he could never shake.

  “This is Adriel,” Gideon announced. “He is the last of the old Dragorn… and he named it Dragons’ Reach.”

  Adilandra’s eyes welled with tears as the queen approached the Dragorn. She moved to bow, but Adriel caught her and dropped to one knee himself.

  “Queens do not bow to Dragorn,” he said.

  Gideon wasn't sure what to do, so he awkwardly made to genuflect with the elf but miss-timed the whole thing.

  “Rise,” Adilandra replied softly. “I have not seen your kind since I was a child. Finding the dragons is more than I could have hoped for, but a living Dragorn… Now we can open Mount Garganafan and hatch the rest of their kind! Dragons will fill the land once again; I have dreamt of nothing else. You were the peacekeepers of a better time.”

  “A time he has forgotten,” Galanӧr’s words were stern, reminding Gideon of the friction that existed between the two elves.

  “Galanӧr!” Adilandra suddenly appeared more queen than ever. “Dragorn are to be respected.”

  Adriel’s mouth froze for a moment before he spoke. “Galanӧr speaks the truth, My Lady. I have not assisted them or yourself. In fact, I hindered their attempts to leave and rescue you many times. I put the safety of Dragons’ Reach above the realm and have done for centuries. It took the emergence of a new Dragorn to show me the way…” Adriel turned to Gideon with an expression he assumed was thanks.

  Adilandra followed his gaze. “And a human Dragorn at that,” she said with a genuine smile. “How is this possible?”

  Gideon expected Adriel to hesitate before the lie left his lips, but the ease with which the elf crafted his words gave the mage a feeling of unease.

  “There was always a chance humans would make the transition to Dragorn, given the time. Their connection to the magical realm is more tenuous than our own, but it is deep routed. I believe it has helped that Gideon was already a mage and with a degree of empathy above most of his kind. He will - ”

  “This is wrong,” Gideon interjected.

  That statement had Galandavax bristling with tension, mirroring the frown on Adriel’s face. There was a hint of protest from Ilargo, but the dragon quickly responded with a feeling of confidence, determined to back him up.

  “Gideon?” Adilandra looked at both Dragorn.

  Adriel’s thoughts passed through Galandavax, to Ilargo, where they were easily shared with Gideon. You are Dragorn now; our oaths are yours.

  “It’s still wrong,” he replied out loud. “I won't live by an oath that makes me a liar.” Gideon tried not to feel intimidated by Galandavax’s arching head.

  Adilandra looked more confused than ever by the one-sided conversation. “What’s happening?”

  Adriel looked him in the eyes. The truth of history is to be protected, Gideon. The Veil must remain hidden!

  “It needs to be destroyed, Adriel. The threat needs ending once and for all.”

  The ancient Dragorn sighed. “You will unleash chaos if you take this belief from the world.”

  Gideon hadn't thought of that. Revealing to all of Verda that the gods they worshipped were nothing more than ancient wizards and mages could be disastrous. Wars had been fought over less.

  “Somebody is going to have to explain,” Adilandra stepped between the two Dragorn.

  Adriel gave Gideon a final look before walking to the edge of the arena, where he stood, content to watch the dragons lay waste to Malaysai. When he said nothing, the mage took it for what it was; Adriel wasn't giving him permission, but he wouldn't stop him either. Gideon glanced at Galanӧr, reminded of the words the elf gave to him before they parted on the edge of The Great Maw. You’re the first of your people to become a Dragorn. Being the first means you get to make the rules. Be the Dragorn you want to be...

  Though he now knew that wasn't the truth of his situation, Gideon had taken the words into his heart, a heart he now shared with Ilargo.

  “The Dragorn kept Illian safe for centuries, but they were also keeping a secret; their true purpose.” Gideon looked from Galanӧr to Adilandra and saw a mix of confusion and curiosity on both. “Atilan, Naius, Paldora… they aren't gods, they never were. Before there were elves, there were humans.”

  Adilandra looked physically hurt and glanced at Adriel before turning back in disbelief.

  “They were powerful mages,” Gideon continued. “So powerful that they… created your kind.” The Dragorn paused as Adilandra gasped and put a hand over her mouth. “They sought immortality above all else. It made them greedy and selfish. Atilan cast elves out of his kingdom when he discovered you weren't the key to eternal life.”

  “This… this cannot be true.” Adilandra was pacing now, with tears running down her cheeks. “You must be mistaken. The gods… they...” The queen looked around, but Galandavax and Adriel’s passive body language spoke volumes. “The Echoes of Fate! They are divine words given to us by the gods. So much has already come true!”

  “Self-fulfilling, perhaps,” Adriel offered. “The prophecy has ever been shrouded in mystery.”

  Adilandra didn't look convinced. “They were spoken by Nalana Sevari. Besides being the princess and sister to my husband, she was also Dragorn. She was chosen by the gods to deliver those words. If they aren't… if they were never gods why would they give her those words? What purpose would they be if not to warn us about Valanis?”

  “We may never know,” Adriel replied. “The questions surrounding the Echoes of Fate have plagued the dragons just as long as they have the elves.”

  Gideon scrutinised Adriel’s face, searching for any sign of deception, but the elf had been keeping secrets for too long. Ilargo’s gaze dre
w the mage’s attention and he stared back into the dragon’s blue eyes. No words were exchanged, but Gideon could feel Ilargo’s entire sense of being. The green dragon was clearly better at detecting the finer nuances on the elf’s face.

  There is more, Ilargo said, but I do not have the answers. I will consult with my mother…

  Gideon was happy to leave it with Ilargo. The Echoes of Fate was a mystery that didn't need to be unravelled right now; he had his own tale of revelations to continue.

  “I do not believe it.” Adilandra’s statement was firm, leaving an awkward tension between them all. “I cannot…”

  “Dragons do not lie,” Adriel’s lack of tact was further evidence to his time isolated from civilisation.

  Gideon could see that Adriel was about to push the topic, but not out of any need to prove the gods were false but more that he couldn't stand the dragons to be doubted. The mage subtly raised his hand by his side, signalling the ancient elf to drop the subject. Shattering Adilandra’s faith was painful to watch and didn't need to be dragged out by Adriel.

  Picking up on the queen’s mood, Galanӧr steered the conversation back to Gideon. “I get the feeling that our true origins were not the secret guarded by the Dragorn.” The elf glanced suspiciously at Adriel. “What have they really been hiding?”

  Gideon looked to Ilargo for reassurance before continuing. “When elves failed to grant him immortality, Atilan looked to the Dragon Riders, the human Dragorn. They… we, are immortal. It’s a bi-product of our bond.” Gideon gestured to Ilargo.

  “You’re immortal?” Galanӧr whispered, sharing the same wide eyes as Adilandra.

  “This started the First War. The Dragon Riders against the first human kingdom. Atilan believed that the secret to immortality lay in the scales of a dragon, and so he tried to enslave them. He succeeded in slaying all the riders after he created Crissalith, but eventually, the dragons defeated them, forcing them into The Wild Moores.”

  Again there was revelation on the faces of the two elves. History was being re-written, a history that had stood as a foundation for both of them for centuries.