“No more horses,” Lynol whispered, her eyes wide, hoping that day would never come.
The world they lived in was so harsh and uncompromising. Lynol wondered just how much they had actually lost over the years since the end of the Golden Age. Some of the old books spoke of animals that hadn’t been seen in years. Many species had died out after the Worldfire and from the depredations of Gilmreth.
“Father believes many things have been affected by the ancient Worldfire,” continued Dresdia, gazing warmly at the colt. “This is the first colt we’ve had in several years.”
“What are you going to name him?” Lynol asked curiously, reaching out and gently petting the mother horse along her neck.
“Kalvin wants to name him SwiftWind and I like WhiteStorm, but it may not matter,” Dresdia said with a hint of sad disappointment drifting into her voice. “Addison Tohr has offered father five gold coins for the colt. God knows we could use them if we have another bad winter.”
“Oh no!” Lynol exclaimed with displeasure edging into her voice. She didn’t want to see Addison end up with the colt. “I hope your father doesn’t sell this colt. He would make a great riding horse for you when he grows up!”
“I know,” replied Dresdia, smoothing down the mother’s mane and watching the colt who was now watching her curiously, probably wondering what she was doing to his mother. “I hope father decides to keep the colt. I’m really going to try to talk him into it, and so is Kalvin.”
“Kalvin can be quite persuasive,” replied Lynol, smiling. “Hopefully, between the two of you, your father will change his mind.”
The two girls continued to talk while watching the colt. Dresdia was worried about the noise coming from the mountain. She wanted to know if Lynol had any idea why the mountain was rumbling so much.
“Kalvin says it’s Gilmreth waking up,” said Dresdia, shaking her head and making her blond hair cascade down over her eyes. “Could it really be the dragon?” She swept her hair away from her eyes with her left hand, wishing she had tied it back earlier so it would stay in place. “I doubt that,” Lynol replied, not wanting to worry or scare her friend with what she suspected.
She had sensed the dragon’s malevolent presence under the mountain the other night. Lynol knew the other sorceress was tampering with Malcon’s sleeping spell, causing the mountain to rumble. She couldn’t tell Dresdia any of this, at least not yet. She knew that Dresdia was terribly frightened of the dragon. She always had been, even in their childhood games in the old barn Dresdia had shown her fear of the dragon on more than one occasion.
Leading Lynol back outside the barn, Dresdia brushed her blond hair away from her emerald green eyes once more. Looking toward the distant mountain that loomed so close, a frown crossed her youthful face. “Even at night the mountain rumbles,” Dresdia complained worriedly, her voice quivering. “We live so close to the mountain, if the dragon still lives and does awake, we could be where it comes hunting first!”
“Gilmreth has slept for nearly one thousand years according to the legends,” responded Lynol, wanting to put Dresdia at ease. She didn’t like to see the distress in the eyes of her closest friend. “After such a long sleep, I doubt the dragon is going to awaken anytime soon. The spell that Malcon placed on Gilmreth was meant to last for a very long time.”
“But the rumbling,” Dresdia continued with concern in her youthful voice, flashing her eyes toward the mountain once more. “When will it stop? I just want it to go away!”
Lynol only shook her head as she continued to try to calm Dresdia’s fears about the dragon. Her efforts were unsuccessful.
-
Later in the afternoon, while they were gathering the sticky red berries in the thick, thorny bushes on the far side of the farm, the subject of the mountain came up again. A distant audible rumble reverberated ominously through the warm air, drawing their attention toward Firestorm Mountain. All three turned to stare at the mountain, berry picking momentarily forgotten.
Dresdia stared with heightened concern at the snow-covered peaks. This frequent rumbling was beginning to scare her; she had even had a few nightmares about the dragon. She wasn’t sleeping well at night and usually had no trouble falling asleep at all. It normally took her mother several attempts to rouse her from bed in the morning, but not recently.
“The rumbling seems to be getting worse daily,” she complained, her red stained hands holding a basket of ripe berries. “What if Gilmreth really is beginning to awake, what would we do?”
“It’s probably only avalanches caused from the melting snow,” Kalvin replied unconvincingly, looking at his sister. He didn’t see how avalanches could be the cause of all the noise coming from the mountain. His father and Damon both said it probably wasn’t Gilmreth, but Kalvin wasn’t so sure.
“If it’s Gilmreth awakening, this may be our last chance to actually explore the mountain,” he ventured, looking at Lynol. “This may be our only opportunity to travel to Firestorm Mountain. We could walk to the base of the mountain in less than half a day,” Kalvin stated, pointing toward the mountain with red berry juice smeared all over his hand. “We could leave early some morning, pack a lunch, and be back by nightfall. We could do some exploring. Who knows what we might find!”
“Why would you want to go to that mountain?” Dresdia asked with her expression showing the faintest hint of disbelief.
“Because if we don’t do it now, we may never get to,” replied Kalvin, looking at his sister.
“You know what father has always told us, the mountain is off limits!” Dresdia replied sternly, placing her full basket of red berries down next to the rapidly growing pile, glaring defiantly at her brother with her hands on her shapely hips. “Besides, Gilmreth lives beneath Firestorm Mountain. I have no desire to go anywhere near that terrible place! Why go there at all? No one goes near that mountain anymore. Kalvin, this is a bad idea. Tell him it’s a bad idea, Lynol.”
“But the dragon is still asleep,” persisted Kalvin, looking from Dresdia to Lynol. “Gilmreth will never know we’re there. The sacrificial altar for Gilmreth is supposed to lie at the base of the mountain,” continued Kalvin, ignoring Dresdia and pointing to an ambiguous dark cleft barely visible in the far distance. “If we could find it, wouldn’t that prove to the villagers that Gilmreth is real and we need to be prepared for his awakening?”
Lynol knew the rumbling currently coming from the mountain wasn’t being caused by Gilmreth or by the other sorceress. She couldn’t sense any spell being used, and Gilmreth wasn’t stirring. It had to be just an avalanche of loose snow, which did occur occasionally this time of the year as the heavy mountain snow packs continued to melt.
“Not even the bravest of the villagers will go near the mountain,” Lynol commented, eyeing the large pile of red berries and wondering how they were going to get them all back home.
This was the best harvest off these bushes that Lynol could ever remember. Maybe she should send Kalvin to have her father bring the cart down. He was beginning to frighten Dresdia with his dragon talk anyway. Lynol couldn’t blame Dresdia for being frightened, the mountain made her nervous also. Particularly since she could sense Gilmreth sleeping beneath, and she knew much of the rumbling from the mountain was being caused by the mysterious sorceress.
“It’s because the ground around the base of the mountain is so dead nothing grows there; that’s why the villagers are afraid,” Kalvin pressed on, reaching for the large canteen of water laying next to the small backpack he had brought and taking a long drink. Then, looking at the girls, he continued. “Father says the mountain was a battleground for sorcerers during the Worldfire, that’s why so little grows there and what does is strangely formed.”
“I don’t know,” Lynol said doubtfully, seeing Dresdia’s uneasy look. She didn’t know if she was prepared to go that close to the mountain and Gilmreth, at least not yet. Nevertheless, she felt a strange sense of excitement at the thought of going to Firestorm Mountain,
as if some mysterious inner voice was encouraging her to go.
What if the dragon sensed her presence? Sorcery had imprisoned the dragon there long ago, and Gilmreth might be able to detect it even in his spell-induced sleep. However, she reminded herself, she wasn’t a sorceress yet. Her abilities were so miniscule that the dragon probably wouldn’t be aware of her presence even if she stood right next to him. What if they actually did find something useful? Kalvin was right about waiting. If they waited much longer, it might be too dangerous to go near the mountain.
“Dresdia, would you want to go if Kalvin and I decided to?” asked Lynol, looking at her best friend. “You don’t have to; I don’t want you doing anything you don’t feel comfortable with.”
She and Kalvin had talked for several years now about hiking to the mountain just to say they had done it. They should be safe enough as long as the sleeping spell continued to hold Gilmreth. She was also surprised at how much Kalvin knew about Gilmreth and Firestorm Mountain. She wondered if there were other things he knew that she didn’t.
She knew Kalvin had heard his father and hers discuss Firestorm Mountain and the dragon for years. She understood the importance of learning as much about Gilmreth and his weaknesses as possible if any were to be found. If he had any, she reminded herself worriedly, looking back toward the mountain. If there was any possibility of finding something useful, then Kalvin’s desire to go to the mountain might not be such a bad idea.
Lynol couldn’t believe she was actually considering it. She knew Dresdia didn’t want them to go, and that was weighing heavily on her decision. Dresdia had always been afraid of the mountain and disliked talking about Gilmreth.
“It could be exciting, I guess,” Dresdia replied cautiously, looking at the two.
Dresdia was still frightened by the idea, wishing Lynol would put a stop to Kalvin’s wild plans. She was surprised that Lynol was even considering it. She wanted to be included if Lynol and Kalvin did decide to trek to the mountain. She didn’t want to be left behind.
“Nothing bad will happen,” promised Kalvin, looking at his sister and hoping she would agree. If she didn’t, he wasn’t sure Lynol would be willing to go.
“We couldn’t tell anyone if we do decide to do this,” Dresdia finally said, looking at Lynol. “Our parents would throw a fit if they knew we were even talking about going near that mountain. We could all be grounded forever!”
“Let’s not rush things,” interjected Lynol, raising her own berry stained hand. “I need to think on this, but not now.” It could be dangerous going to the mountain. This was something she didn’t want to rush into. She wanted to consider all the ramifications of their actions, particularly since she knew Dresdia didn’t actually want to go. Lynol decided to change the subject. “Let’s finish getting these berries picked and hauled back home. Kalvin, go to the house and ask my father to bring the two-wheeled cart down. I never dreamed there would be so many; we’re going to have a lot of canning to do!”
-
Opening her eyes, Lynol stared at the brightly burning candle. Kalvin wanted to go to Firestorm Mountain and search for Gilmreth’s sacrificial altar. Just the thought of venturing that close to the dragon’s lair made Lynol feel extremely uneasy, particularly since she didn’t want to endanger her friends. Did she dare pass up this opportunity to learn something more about Gilmreth?
Looking at the burning candle, she clasped her amulet tightly in her hand and concentrated. The candle promptly went out, leaving the room in darkness except for the flickering light from the wood stove. The only other light in the partially darkened room was coming from the faint spectral blue glow of her amulet in her now open hand. Concentrating again, she felt the stone grow warm in her hand and all of the lamps in the house flared back up.
-
Unseen by Lynol, Damon smiled broadly as the lamps magically lit and he could see the kitchen again. Walking over to the wood stove, he placed some hot coals from the fireplace inside, and on top of that he added some wood kindling plus some small split logs. Soon he had a warm, comforting fire going. Sitting back down at the kitchen table, he thought about Lynol’s future. He wondered if there was anything he could do to protect his only daughter. With what she had accomplished tonight there was no doubt in Damon’s mind that sorcery was indeed back in the Sylvar family.
-
In far off Draydon, Jalene frowned and laid the ancient yellowed scroll down carefully on the table. Gilmreth might be much harder to control than she had imagined. The dragon was immensely old, nearly three thousand years if her research was correct. He was one of the last dragons to be created by the ancients and by far the most powerful. If the scroll was accurate, Gilmreth himself had hunted down and killed most of the other dragons which had been set free during the horrors of the Worldfire.
The dragon had searched the entire world, searing the skies free of his own kind as he hunted them down one by one. She hadn’t been prepared for that. Gilmreth could be much stronger and more dangerous than she had ever imagined. The scroll claimed Gilmreth was an uncontrollable rogue dragon! For a moment, she wondered about the path she had set herself on. Shaking her head, she pushed back the self doubt.
Opening the old book of spells, Jalene turned to the tattered page containing the dragon spell, the one that she hoped would give her control of Gilmreth. She had found the book underneath some ancient ruins, in some old collapsing tunnels, which had sheltered a pitiful group of survivors from the Worldfire. Many of the tunnels and small rooms had collapsed, making journeying into them extremely difficult and dangerous. Jalene believed the book had belonged to an ancient sorcerer who had hidden himself amongst a desperate group of refugees. The destitute people had huddled helplessly beneath the quaking ground as the deadly Worldfire consumed the Golden Age above.
Studying the dragon spell, Jalene wondered if it was strong enough to bind Gilmreth to her will and force the dragon to obey her commands. The ancient sorcerers had supposedly been able to control the smaller dragons with this spell. She wondered if any had actually tried to control Gilmreth, being one of the last and most powerful created. Nowhere had she ever found any reference implying the great dragon ever having been controlled by any sorcerer. In addition, the withered scroll seemed to confirm Gilmreth had never been meant to serve one of the powerful sorcerers of the Golden Age. Why those ancient sorcerers had created such a creature was a mystery. If they couldn’t control Gilmreth, why create him?
Going over to her bed, Jalene lay down as her mind dwelled on the dragon. Gilmreth was the key to all of her carefully laid plans. With the dragon under her control, she could forcibly gather many of the remaining people together from their scattered towns and villages. They would be required to do her bidding lest Jalene loose the deadly dragon upon them. She would command them to build a great city with a magnificent temple at its center.
From that temple, she would rule with the threat of Gilmreth to ensure total obedience. She would be worshipped and waited on hand and foot, her every whim obeyed. Her impoverished childhood would be revenged a thousand times over; never again would she be treated with contempt, scorn, and pity. She drew a deep breath, pushing back the horrid encroaching memories of her wretched up bringing A dark scowl covered her face. The dragon was the key to all of her dreams and plans, and she would have him!
If an occasional virgin had to be sacrificed at the temple to keep the dragon appeased than so be it. It would also pay sweetly for her mother being raped and bringing her into a world without forgiveness, a world of pain and misery. She could already envision the intricate ceremony and feast that would accompany each sacrifice. Her breathing quickened and her eyes closed as she thought about her plans.
She would form a special order of priests to oversee the ceremony and help choose qualified candidates for the sacrifice. In her mind, she pictured the people on their knees paying homage to her and the omnipotent dragon, willing to do whatever she commanded. Her power would be absolute
, her every word law. She had already planned much of this out; she just needed Gilmreth under her control to set everything into motion, Gilmreth, and one other item she hoped to find inside Firestorm Mountain.
It would be a great honor to be sacrificed to the dragon. The golden city of her dreams would ring out with celebration and feasting after each human sacrifice. The life of the entire city would revolve around her and the dragon. Jalene fell asleep amid dreams of golden towers and white spires reaching up toward the heavens.
-
Early the next morning, Jalene met Clyton and Kason in front of the inn. They had three horses and two pack animals loaded down with supplies and were waiting impatiently for her. The rising sun, still hidden by the towering dark heights of Firestorm Mountain, held Draydon in a dark shadow. The town was quiet, with most of its inhabitants asleep.
“We have everything we need, including some heavy blankets. To reach the far side of the mountain we must use one of the higher passes. At this time of the year it’s pretty cold up on the slopes,” Kason stated uneasily, shuffling his feet on the ground and staring into Jalene’s cold unwavering eyes.
He felt ill at ease about going up on the mountain with this mysterious woman, but the gold coins she offered and the possibility of learning more about her power far outweighed the risk.
“Let’s get going, then,” ordered Jalene, Mounting her horse and riding briskly off down the narrow street, not giving the two men a second glance.
The two looked at each other and then fell in behind her with the trailing pack animals. The animals were Drendals, a strange beast of burden that had appeared shortly after the Worldfire. They were similar to a horse but shorter with longer, coarser hair, and thick, muscular legs. The animals were rare and extremely hard to come by.
Jalene wondered where Clyton and Kason had come up with this pair of Drendals. She suspected they were stolen; probably one of the reasons they had insisted on leaving so early in the morning. That didn’t concern her as long as they had procured everything needed. Finally, she was on her way to Gilmreth’s lair and the prize she hoped waited within!
Gilmreth the Awakening Page 11