Gilmreth the Awakening

by Raymond L. Weil

  “Whatever was once here is long gone, destroyed by the weather over the years,” Kalvin said with considerable frustration in his voice. He had genuinely wanted to find something important, some artifact left behind from the days of the sacrifices, something to impress Lynol.

  “Let’s check the sides of the canyon,” he said without much hope of finding anything. “Then we can go back home.”

  “Fine, but we need to do it quickly,” commented Lynol, looking up at the bright sun and trying to guess how late it was getting. “We need to be heading back soon. We don’t want to get home after dark or we’ll have a lot of questions to answer.”

  “I just want to head back home as soon as possible,” stated Dresdia, not wanting to look around any longer. She had seen far too much already. This entire canyon frightened her.

  Lynol and Dresdia headed off in the opposite direction from Kalvin, walking to where the cliffs towered far above them, stretching for the sky. The towering granite walls were nearly sheer, making it impossible to climb up or down. From what Lynol could see, the only access to the sacrificial altar was through the cleft where they had entered or through the air from above where Gilmreth would have descended. There might be another hidden entrance on Kalvin’s side they hadn’t found yet.

  “I don’t like this place, Lynol,” groaned Dresdia, leaning against the cliff wall and letting her small backpack slide to the ground. “I feel as if something is watching us. Maybe we should leave! We should turn around, get Kalvin, and go back home!”

  Dresdia wished they had never entered this place. She felt as if they were all in great danger. With a horrible feeling, she just knew this trip had been a horrendous mistake. She should have trusted her intuition and talked Kalvin and Lynol out of this to begin with.

  Lynol nodded in agreement; she still had a very uneasy feeling herself about this place. She had an unexplainable feeling of impending danger that just wouldn’t go away. She was sure it didn’t involve Gilmreth or the other sorceress, But what it could be she just didn’t know. “Let’s finish checking the cliff wall and then find Kalvin. You’re right; something about this place doesn’t feel safe. As soon as we finish checking the cliff walls, we’ll leave. We need to go anyway so we can be home before dark.”

  -

  Lynol and Dresdia were nearly halfway through their section when they heard an excited yell from Kalvin.

  “Lynol! Dresdia! I’ve found something; you’ve got to see this!” his voice echoed excitedly through the air.

  Lynol could tell Kalvin had found something significant from the animated sound of his voice. The two girls hurried over, following the sound of Kalvin’s voice, finding him standing beneath a large overhang of the cliff. Lynol stopped and looked in amazement at what Kalvin had found. At the back of the overhang, protected from the weather, was a large, flat wall nearly three man-heights high and ten long. The entire wall was covered with colorful paintings and delicate writings in the old flowing script of the ancients.

  “What is it?” asked Dresdia, enthralled by the sight, momentarily forgetting her fear, her eyes roaming over the colorful paintings that adorned the wall.

  Walking over, she ran her hand lightly over a large painting depicting an enormous, fearsome looking dragon descending on spread wings toward the sacrificial altar. On the altar, a helpless girl dressed in white was manacled in its center, lying on the upraised stone table, a look of terror and resignation on her face.

  “This is amazing,” murmured Lynol, gazing at the colorful paintings in surprise. She was astounded at the clear detail after the passing of so many centuries. She knew without a doubt that this was what had drawn her to the mountain, why this trip had been necessary.

  “So this is what a dragon looks like; this must be Gilmreth,” whispered Dresdia, looking at the fearsome creature, a cold chill running down her back, realizing what the painting implied.

  This despicable scene had been replayed at the altar innumerable times in the distant past. Dresdia found it difficult to imagine the horror the victims must have felt upon seeing Gilmreth swooping down on his wings toward them. This was also what she knew was asleep under the mountain they were exploring. Just realizing how close they were to Gilmreth’s underground lair made Dresdia suddenly feel extremely nervous and frightened. The sooner they were gone from this place, the better!

  Other paintings showed different fierce dragons locked in bloody combat, fighting each other. Lynol walked slowly down the long row of paintings, seeing that in all the ones picturing dragons fighting there was one disturbing aspect they all had in common. One truly large dark dragon was depicted in painting after painting, tearing the still beating hearts out of the smaller ones, and then burning them to ashes with his fiery breath. In scene after scene it was the same, the large dragon triumphant as it slew its weaker adversaries.

  “What does this mean?” asked Dresdia. She was standing next to Lynol, looking confused and sickened as she gazed at the paintings. “Why is the larger dragon killing all the others? Is that Gilmreth?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Lynol, baffled. In none of the stories she had heard from her father was there any mention of dragons killing dragons. “It almost has to be, but I haven’t heard a lot about the other dragons, just Gilmreth.”

  Lynol noticed that if you started at one end and worked to the other the paintings seemed to show an orderly progression. Going back to the beginning, she started over. The first painting showed over a dozen different colored dragons of varying sizes leaving a huge cave on the side of Firestorm Mountain. The dragons separated, going in different directions. The next painting showed the dragons attacking villages and towns, but strange looking towns.

  They had buildings that reached many hundreds of feet into the air. Some had towers that soared almost too high to believe. All showed tremendous damage, as if the towns had been struck and shattered by the blows of a mighty hammer. Many of the buildings were leaning or flattened. These were the remains of the magnificent cities of the Golden Age, Lynol realized excitedly. One scene showed an enigmatic mushroom cloud rising from the center of one of the mysterious cities. Lynol wondered just what that might imply. Was this some type of ancient weapon that had been used to destroy the cities? Was this the Worldfire?

  The next scene showed a dragon preying on the destroyed city’s inhabitants, spreading terror and more destruction. Soon after, the largest dragon began to kill the other dragons, one after another; perhaps their food supply was becoming exhausted. A later painting mysteriously showed many strangely dressed people exiting the same cave the dragons had fled from earlier. Their leader had a glowing blue stone affixed to his chest.

  “This has to be a sorcerer!” Kalvin exclaimed excitedly, touching the figure lightly with the tip of his finger. “Maybe even one of the sorcerers who created the dragons!”

  “But why did they leave the cave so much later than the dragons, why were they even in the cave, and why didn’t they try to do something to stop the dragon’s murderous rampage?” asked Dresdia, looking at the earlier paintings, which showed the dragons killing countless people in their attacks. “If they created them, surely they could have destroyed them.”

  “Maybe they couldn’t,” Lynol said quietly, taken aback at what the paintings portrayed. “Maybe the sorcerers were so weak after the Worldfire they could no longer stand up to the dragons. Perhaps that’s why they waited so long to come out, hoping the dragons had destroyed one another and wouldn’t return to threaten them.”

  Looking at the rest of the paintings, Lynol saw that other bands of ragged refugees from the devastated countryside soon joined the survivors from the cave. The paintings showed them establishing primitive homes in towns and villages around Firestorm Mountain. Men and women who were obviously sorcerers used their powers to clean the land of the poisons from the Worldfire. For years, they lived in peace, their population slowly growing, arduously expanding the ground cleared of poisons. Then, disaster struck
! After hundreds of years of peace, the single remaining dragon returned.

  “Gilmreth!” Kalvin breathed with awe, looking at the painting, which showed the dragon attacking a small village, destroying it with his fiery breath and then carrying a defenseless young girl back to the cave from which he had fled countless years before.

  “He came back,” gasped Dresdia, looking at the painting.

  “He could no longer find food anywhere else, so he returned to the mountain. He found the survivors and began to prey upon them,” stated Kalvin, shaking his head at the horror the painting portrayed. “That’s why they started the sacrifices, to stop the widespread destruction. Better to sacrifice one individual than to lose an entire village or town.”

  “It still doesn’t make it right,” Dresdia persisted, now standing next to Kalvin. Gilmreth was as frightening as she had always dreamed.

  Lynol stopped before the final series of paintings, amazed at what they portrayed. The dragon was attacking what looked like a small castle. One solitary tower rose up chillingly into the night and from its battlements a lone woman, surrounded by radiant white light, hurled fierce blue-white lightning bolts at the attacking dragon. The next scene showed the dragon carrying the limp form of the helpless woman off from the shattered ruins of the castle. “Lys,” Lynol breathed, running her hands slowly across the painting. Had the ancient painter known Lys, actually met her?

  “Lys?” repeated Dresdia, looking at Lynol, confused. “Who was that?” These paintings obviously portrayed a powerful sorceress fighting Gilmreth. What did Lynol know about this mysterious sorceress?

  “A distant ancestor of the Sylvars,” replied Lynol, looking at the final painting. It depicted the dragon asleep in its lair, surrounded by dazzling blue radiance, and a sorcerer lying dead before it. At the top of the painting was the family symbol of the Sylvars, the fire-breathing dragon, which was the family crest.

  “That’s Malcon Sylvar and Gilmreth!” Kalvin uttered excitedly, staring at the last painting. “That’s when Malcon put Gilmreth to sleep!” Stepping back, Kalvin eyed the lettering on the wall above the paintings, wondering what mysteries the ancient words held.

  Lynol recognized the writing. It was the same as their current language but written in the mysterious flowing form of the ancients.

  “Beware the dragon that sleeps beneath Firestorm Mountain. Prophecy predicts that an evil sorceress will arise from the west to awaken and free the sleeping dragon. Another great sorceress will arise from the east, from the old blood, to restore the world. Beware the bringing of the Worldfire, beware the one who sleeps, only through unselfish sacrifice can the great dragon be conquered,” Lynol read aloud, feeling an eerie cold chill run up and down her spine.

  This prophecy fit the current situation unbelievably well. This wasn’t a prophecy she was familiar with. The prophecy that her father and she were aware of only spoke of a powerful Sylvar sorceress arising at the time of Gilmreth’s awakening. This one told more, much more. It sounded very ominous. Just the fact that it mentioned the sorceress on the far side of Firestorm Mountain sent more cold chills down Lynol’s back. The other sorceress it mentioned, the one from the east, Lynol wondered if it could be her that it spoke of. Also, what did it mean by the one who sleeps?

  “That’s why the mountain’s rumbling,” Kalvin said, his eyes opening wider at what the prophecy revealed. “There must be a new sorceress trying to awaken Gilmreth. If this writing is true, Gilmreth really is about to awaken! But what of this other sorceress it mentions? From the old blood; what does that mean?” Kalvin stopped, staring at Lynol, his thoughts hidden behind his eyes as he wondered about the hidden meaning of the words.

  Dresdia stood almost petrified. “You mean that Gilmreth is really going to wake up? All this rumbling we have been hearing is actually from the dragon?” She felt weak and faint as her greatest fear seemed to be realized.

  “I don’t know,” began Lynol, turning her eyes away, hating the necessity of keeping secrets from her closest friends. She wanted to examine the paintings more closely. There was a lot of information here that might be useful. “It could be a long time from now. After all, do either of you actually know of any sorcerers or sorceresses?”

  “No,” replied Kalvin, staring back at the paintings, his brow wrinkled in thought. “There hasn’t been one for generations. If the prophecy you read is true, then we’re quite safe until these two sorceresses show up.”

  Kalvin stared up and down the long wall of paintings trying to make sense of it all. They had found much more than he had ever believed possible. His mind was full of a hundred questions. The prophecy Lynol had just read was worrisome; he wondered if his father knew anything about it.

  “Is there a sorceress on the other side of the mountain using her magic to try to awaken Gilmreth?” Dresdia asked with growing worry in her voice. She felt like her nightmares were coming true.

  “It would explain all the rumbling from the mountain,” replied Kalvin, looking at the paintings and turning his attention back to the writings above them. “But this prophecy says there should be two sorceresses, one in the west and one in the east. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  Lynol stood in silence looking at the paintings, not wanting to look into the eyes of her two closest friends; they were extremely close to figuring out the truth. She was almost afraid of the next question they might ask. All the information they needed was in the prophecy if they just thought about it. She didn’t know if she could lie to them if they just came out and asked her.

  Suddenly, behind them sounded twin monstrous roars coupled with sharp razor claws striking stone, causing the three to whirl quickly around. Two large cat-like beasts, larger than a mountain lion, crouched threateningly, ready to spring. The giant cats had managed to sneak up on the three without being heard. They had long, curved fangs that dripped a yellowish fluid, probably poisonous, and their claws were nearly a full hand’s length long and lethally sharp. They were motley gray and yellow in color, with eyes of crimson red.

  White-faced and grim-lipped the three stared in mute horror, their eyes transfixed upon the huge cats. There were rumors of mountain lions still around, but no one had seen one in years. These clearly were not mountain lions. They were much larger!

  “Oh my God!” screamed Dresdia, her eyes wide with fear. She stepped back against the painting-covered wall in sudden terror, her hand over her mouth. “Where did those things come from? I knew we should never have come here!”

  Dresdia could see their eminent death crouching before them. Why hadn’t they just stayed home? Their parents would never know what happened to them. They should have left a note for them to find just in case something went wrong. She had suggested it to Kalvin, but he had talked her out of it.

  “What the hell are those?” swore Kalvin, pulling out his long hunting knife, brandishing it unsteadily before him, his face turning grim. “Stay behind me!” he ordered with false bravado, stepping defensively in front of the two girls, knowing if these deadly beasts leaped there was little he could do. The cats were just too big, and he doubted if he would be able to hold them off even with his hunting knife. His plan to spend time with Lynol may have just cost all of them their lives.

  Guardedly, Kalvin watched the cats, wondering what he should do, waiting for them to spring. How could everything go so suddenly wrong? Kalvin looked from side to side seeking somewhere they could escape to, a small cave, an indention in the cliff wall, anything that would provide some protection. The only thing within reach that he could see was the sacrificial altar. On top of it, they might be safe from these cats if he could keep them off the steps, but Kalvin knew the cats would catch them before they could reach it. He held his knife, pointing it at the cats, waiting for them to spring with a sick feeling gripping his stomach.

  “No!” Lynol said suddenly, realizing the perilous danger they were in. “Stand aside.”

  Stepping protectively in front of a surprised Kalvin, sh
e pulled her dormant amulet out from beneath her shirt, rapidly flicking her fingers and moving her right hand smoothly, weaving the fire spell. A bluish nebulous glow suddenly surrounded her fingertips. Grasping her amulet firmly with her left hand, she concentrated deeply, feeling the stone growing warm. Lynol took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She felt her heart hammering in her chest. When she felt ready, she reached out with her mind. A sudden searing wall of yellow-red flame leaped up from the bare ground between them and the two dangerous animals.

  Lynol opened her hand, the amulet laying there glowing brilliantly with intense blue light. She focused, trying not to be afraid, willing her heart to slow down and taking short breaths. Never had she attempted such a strong use of her newfound abilities. Lynol felt the powerful spell quickly draining her strength. She knew that Dresdia and Kalvin’s lives depended on her newly discovered abilities. She couldn’t let her friends down!

  The two cats growled loudly and angrily, snarling at the hot flames and glaring with burning eyes at their chosen victims. Their claws cut deep, angry notches in the stone as they slowly backed away from the roaring hot flames.

  “What!” Kalvin exclaimed in utter amazement, stepping back away from the sudden heat and flames. He gave Lynol a startled, shocked look. Everything had happened so suddenly with Lynol stepping in front of him and now the searing wall of flames, Kalvin scarcely knew what to think. Then, glancing at the glowing amulet in her left hand, a light seemed to explode in his mind. “The old blood, it’s you!” Kalvin exclaimed, bewildered and with dawning understanding, recalling the prophecy. “The prophecy is about the Sylvars! You’re a sorceress! You’re the one from the east!”

  “You have your ancestor’s powers,” Dresdia breathed, her eyes widening and staring at her best friend in astonishment. “You’re the sorceress in the prophecy!” Dresdia looked at the leaping flames in disbelief and then back at Lynol and the glowing amulet she held in her hand.