Dragon Bow

by Angelique Anderson

  “I agree, Hekla. It’s far too simple,” Jetevius said quietly.

  “The innocent lives taken, and the trust broken between the kingdoms—it seems too much just for some unnecessary wealth. He would have done far better and been considered far richer if he had traded for supplies or food from the surface. That is worth much more down here.”

  “Hmmm,” Hekla thought aloud. The entire time she had been sitting there, she had held her scepter tightly in hand. Its elegant base firm on the ground, the orb continuing to blaze vibrantly with sparks of purple and blue, entwining with one another. Speltus must have so much to say about this. I need to speak with him as soon as possible.

  Something is just not adding up, Hekla, Speltus said, the orb brightening as he spoke into her mind.

  That’s what I thought.

  “So, Ecthelion, if I may be so bold. Why not go back now? Why not help us to restore order to the kingdom of Aequoris?” Hekla pressed him, curious to find out why he had decided to stay out here so far away from his people.

  “I can’t go back, not until he dies,” he said coldly.

  “I understand why you say that, but if you were to come back, you could help us. We could do something. We could change things for the better.” Hekla’s voice raised slightly, and her eyes brightened. A fire began to roar in her soul. “Don’t you see? The more of us that unite against him, the more of a chance we have of changing this for the better—the change you wanted to see. He may not be the king he used to be, but you are still the man you were.”

  Ecthelion began pacing again, his eyes slightly glazed over as he thought about what she said. Hekla tried to read his face, to see if he agreed with her.

  “I just can’t,” he finally said, and then she saw something in his eyes she hadn’t expected. Fear.

  “You’re afraid of him?” she was beside herself with the idea. “Why would you be afraid of him?”

  “I’m not afraid of him, I’m afraid of the things he’s done. I could never look at him the same again,” he said honestly.

  “You don’t have to, just come with us. Help us get into the kingdom and put a stop to the horrible things he keeps doing.”

  “No, I will not die for him. It would be one more life that he has taken, and I won’t let that happen.” His voice was adamant.

  “Ecthelion, I won’t let that happen to you. I swear to you. I have something that no one else has, and that is magic. I can heal those who are injured. I can bring people back from the edge of death. You must trust me. I want to help heal Aequoris. I would do anything for that, but I need help. Jetevius and I can’t do this by ourselves.” Her voice grew more and more urgent by the moment.

  Jetevius stood up. “Yes, come with us my friend, and help us. Everything is as she said. We can overtake him. We can restore our kingdom.”

  Ecthelion stared at them both in disbelief. “I don’t see how that is even possible.”

  “It is, I know it is. Please… help us,” she pleaded.

  He looked down at the medal in his hand, unmoving for so long, Hekla was afraid that he would never answer.

  “And if we have to kill him?” he finally asked after a long time.

  “Then, we will. I would do anything for Aequoris.”

  That stopped him in his tracks, he dropped the medal, and stared at her for the longest time.

  “Then let us get our kingdom back,” Ecthelion said solemnly.

  22

  Astrid

  When we are young, we never truly understand what our parents teach us. We begin to realize they taught us the difference from right and wrong, but it’s more than that. And it’s only in certain situations that we truly understand what they prepared us for, and the sacrifices they made to teach us. It is in those times, that their strength becomes ours.

  Ugiotti, The Eternal, Fourth Dragon Elder, Fifth Age of Verdil

  With peace restored between Astrid and Aronus, they decided it was time to return to Caelestis. The journey would be much quicker, with the Tellurian soldiers cleared from the main road leading up the mountain. Those that remained had no desire to fight her, and only nodded their heads as she passed.

  When they finally reached the top of the mountain, familiar faces of soldiers she had met before camped near the steps leading up to Caelestis. The same campsite that had given her trouble for being a ‘witch.’

  “Astrid, you’ve returned!”

  She nodded her head with reservation, wondering if they would come after her again, but she saw none of the ones who had accused her. Only the faces of men she had fought alongside with in battle—Tellurian soldiers who had gone against their own kind to help the Caelestans. She relaxed her stance.

  “Indeed, I have. I don’t have time to chat, though! Be well!” she hurried toward the steps leading upward to the sky kingdom, her feet bounding quickly up until she reached the top. The few days of rest had given her renewed energy, and she was anxious to return to Quimby and meet the king.

  Perhaps its best you do not seek out King Bertram, for the moment. We have much to think about for the time being and you need to strengthen your connection to your people, Aronus encouraged her.

  “You’re right,” she said out loud.

  Besides, you’d probably just irritate the King and get yourself in trouble, he added with a sour tone.

  “It’s not like I mean to get into trouble, I’ve only wanted peace from the beginning. Not to be hunted, or called a ‘witch,’ or any other manner of foul derogatory that has occurred since this journey began,” she said, defending herself.

  Aronus didn’t answer, and it was clear that he was still irate at her for making assumptions that the dark magic surrounding the king had something to do with a dragon. She tried to not let it get to her—to just be thankful that he had come back, but it seeped under her skin like a bug bite that needed itching.

  Astrid wanted to continue to defend herself, to tell him all the reasons that she was right, and ask why he didn’t just accept it already? Only she didn’t. She never wanted to drive a wedge between them, but her gut wouldn’t let her believe anything else to be true about King Armand. She would just have to tread carefully when it came to that discussion.

  “Astrid, you’ve returned,” Quimby’s rotund belly proceeded his smile, and though she had been irritated at him before for not allowing her to see the king, all that dissipated.

  “Quimby, how are things? I trust they are well?” Astrid returned his smile.

  “Indeed, the king has not been seen for a few days which always makes the Caelestans happy. The battle seems to have given us renewed hope. Even though we lost some of our soldiers, the fact of the matter is that we fought, and most were able to return home. There has been talk among the people that if they were to unite with Aequoris… we could fight the Tellurians and win.”

  “We could, Quimby, but the Tellurians are not our enemy. They are as much a victim of their own king, as the Caelestans are of theirs. Her gaze was drawn toward the Caelestan castle, and she wondered if there was something more to what was going on with King Bertram than anyone knew.

  I suppose you think a dragon is behind King Bertram’s evil ways, as well. Aronus quipped.

  Astrid’s face twisted into a scowl, even though she knew Aronus couldn’t see it.

  I only make assumptions about things that I have evidence for, she snapped back. That seemed to silence him, as he didn’t respond back.

  “What’s the angry face for?” Quimby asked.

  “My apologies, I was just thinking about the Kings. It just makes me wonder is all. Anyway, it’s been a long few days. Is it possible to get a bit of food? I’m afraid my provisions ran out, and even though I stayed in the soldiers’ tents at the base of the mountain, I was too distracted to think to search their things for food.”

  “That’s quite all right, Astrid. Chances are anything you found wouldn’t have been enough anyway. Yes, as a matter of fact I was going to invite you into my home for s
ome cider.”

  “I’d like that very much, all the death and talk of war—it weighs on a person,” she said, her soul suddenly feeling very heavy, as the memories of the last few days flashed through her mind. So many faces, so many nameless bodies, she gave herself only a moment to think of them, and then she had to stop.

  “I can only imagine what that must have been like. Come along, my dear,” Quimby ambled toward his home, and Astrid followed alongside him. Sunshine warmed her skin, warming through to her soul and bringing a peace she hadn’t felt in days. There are so many things yet to be done, but I need this. This one moment to breathe, then I can go back to trying to get to the king and worrying about battle.

  It was settled within herself, and oddly, Aronus remained unusually quiet about it.

  They entered the Grand Vizier’s palace, walking past the stairwell that led upward to the Vizier himself, and past the doors that led to Astrid and Quimby’s consecutive rooms. Deeper into the small palace, a large light oak door led the way to a well-stocked kitchen.

  Quimby quickly ambled about grabbing apples and cinnamon sticks and brought them over to the fireplace where a soothing aroma filled the small home.

  “What is that?” she asked, the smell of cinnamon and cooked apple dancing through the air.

  “That, my dear, is cider. Have you never had it before?”

  Astrid shook her long, emerald hair. “Never, though, I know what it is—I’ve not tasted it.”

  “Oh, it’s better than fresh mead,” he exclaimed.

  “What’s that?” Her forehead scrunched inquisitively.

  “Oh, dear,” he said, his belly shaking with laughter.

  She joined him, realizing there were still a great many things she had yet to see and experience.

  “So, Quimby, tell me about your parents?” Astrid asked, sitting on a chair

  “Whats there to tell? You know that my mother was Caelestan.” He set a small, fragile cup in front of her with the steaming liquid. The smell wafting upward, kissing her senses. “Here, caution… it’s hot.”

  She blew on it several times to cool it off, then took a small sip. The warmth and hints of cinnamon and apple coursed through to her toes. “Oh, Quimby… it’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

  He smiled contentedly, and returned to pour himself a cup, before he brought over a thin, hand carved platter with a variation of chopped fruit and nuts.

  “Anyway, my mother was Caelestan, and my father was Tellurian. This was back before the kingdoms were at war, and long before the kings we have now were in power. Things were much simpler then.”

  “But to cross kingdoms, had that ever happened before?” she asked, as she took another sip from the delicate cup.

  “I suppose so, but to have a child result from that is an extremely rare occurrence. I am the only one born of a Caelestan and Tellurian.”

  “That’s interesting, so why do you have wings but cannot fly?”

  He looked down at his belly and then back at her. “I suppose it has something to do with my chiseled physique,” he joked.

  Astrid laughed, nearly spewing out her hot cider. “All right, all right… so you’re not built like a Caelestan. So, what happened to your parents?”

  “Caelestan’s have extremely long-life spans, I myself am over a hundred years old. My mother was nearly seven hundred when she died. That’s a good life for us. More than we can hope for. She was lucky to go to the sky goddess before she saw what would become of our once great city—it would have broken her heart.” He stared into the cup he was holding, the steam rising around his face.

  “I want to help, Quimby,” she said softly.

  “I know, Astrid. You’ve already done so much, much more than I had ever thought you were capable of. When word of the battle at Telluris came, I was sure that you would not return. However, your bravery and heroism precede you, and every time I’ve doubted you, you’ve proven me wrong. If there was ever someone to help restore Caelestis, I do have hope it’ll be you.”

  “Thank you, you’ve no idea how much that means to me. I just hope that I can do it without any further lives lost.”

  “This is battle, dear Astrid, that is part of the equation.”

  “I know,” she replied. Their lighthearted conversation had become weighed down with worry, and past regret. “So,” she whispered, hoping to lighten the mood, “tell me of your father. How did they meet and fall in love?”

  He smiled, his mood brightening considerably. “Oh, it’s actually my favorite story. One I had my mother tell me many times, while she was alive. A long time ago, when my mother and father were young, trades were strong between the kingdoms. To ensure that all went smoothly, guards were appointed from each kingdom to oversee the transactions. The guards were the most trusted men of the king. Then there were the traders themselves. It was always the same people for each kingdom, so that there could be no question of who was to blame if something didn’t go as planned.”

  “I understand that.” Astrid nodded.

  “My father was a head Tellurian guard, he oversaw the stairway trades, and as you can probably deduce for yourself, my mother was the head trader. They got into an argument one day about a fruit exchange, and my mother being the hot head she was, smacked my father across the face.”

  Astrid gasped.

  “Yes, you can imagine how well that went over with the other guards, who immediately rushed over and were going to arrest her. My father, Viridius, halted them. Saying that he deserved it. They protested of course, traders were considered lower than peasants, and Guards were like royalty then. To lay a hand on one, especially in anger was considered the highest act of disrespect short of smacking the king’s heir, or the king himself.”

  “So, what happened?” Astrid scooted to the edge of her seat, entranced in the story, still sipping the now cooled cider in the fragile cup.

  “Well, after that, my father pursued her relentlessly. Brought her flowers, little trinkets from his travels in Telluris. She could never understand it—my mother. He should have despised her, but instead, he pursued her. When they eventually fell in love, and married in secret, and she asked him why, all he said, was that my mother was fire and he was ice, and that slap had melted him.”

  “Their love was as pure as it came, and when I was born in here, my mother thought she had messed up. The moment my wings grew, and I couldn’t fly, she beseeched the Unseen Ones for help. That’s when the platform was made. It is also the day my father entered Caelestis for the first time. For the most part, my parents spent as much time together as possible, but it was a difficult existence.”

  “Caelestan’s cannot tolerate the heaviness of the air in Telluris and staying on land for too long can cause us to start to suffocate. The same goes for Tellurians here. They can be here for a short time, but the air is too light for them to remain. So, they can suffocate if they are here too long.”

  “So, how did they stay together, through that?”

  “I don’t know, honestly. They took turns, constantly watching each other for signs of sickness. It was very hard on them, and our people didn’t make it any easier.”

  “I can imagine,” Astrid said. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, though, Quimby.”

  “My parents were very special people. Their love brought further unity between us, even with those who remained hateful of their love. I experienced only a taste of the disgust some felt, having rocks thrown at me when I was younger, being called horrible names. I didn’t care though, my mother always told me to let it roll off my back. That the hate I felt from others reflected their own insecurities and had nothing to do with me.”

  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said sincerely, reaching her hand across the table to pat his arm.

  “Yes, well, children… no matter what kingdom they are from, can be cruel. I wanted friends, but I had my mother, and my father. I was the luckiest child in the world to be able to travel back and
forth between the two kingdoms on a regular basis. I got to try all manner of food, and experience so many things that children my age didn’t. I went Toverak hunting with my father and learned how to catch wild winged Averectas.”

  “What’s an Averectas?” Astrid had never heard the word before, but it sounded more terrifying than a Toverak.

  “It’s a small bird that is good for eating, consider it the barinella of the air. You do know what a barinella is right?”

  “Yes, it’s like a mole type creature that lives in Telluris?”

  “That’s the one,” he said. “It’s a good thing that even though they’re thick and kind of gamey, they’re still good to eat, or Telluris would be overrun with them. The same with the Averectas. They’re small and hard to catch, because they fly faster than a hummingbird, and are sometimes mistaken for a beetle, but they’re tasty.”

  “A beetle.” She shuddered.

  “Not a fan of bugs, huh?”

  “Not in the slightest,” she admitted.

  “Me neither. It’s probably why I chose to remain here, instead of Telluris. Far less insects than the Earth Kingdom.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Astrid joked.

  “So, I’ve told you about my parents, what about yours?”

  “That’s a story without much to tell. As you know, I come from the Volcano of Shadows.” She grew misty-eyed as she spoke of the place. Astrid greatly missed her childhood home and wondered if there would ever come a time she could return, if even briefly.

  “Never in my three-hundred and twenty-two years have I met a single person from there,” he said.

  “Then I suppose that makes us both unique. As far as I know, it was only my family that dared live inside the volcano. My mother died when I was very little—I barely remember her anymore. That is my one greatest regret—that I didn’t get to know her better. Or, to know more about her. My father bragged of her beauty, intelligence and intuitiveness until the day he died, but that was all.”