Gilmreth the Awakening

by Raymond L. Weil

  Jalene didn’t dare risk linking with Gilmreth on this sacrifice. The sensations would be overpowering, rendering her incoherent. It was all she could do to resist the temptation to form the mind link, to savor the feeding Gilmreth was about to partake of. Jalene swayed on her feet, her eyes almost closed as she waited.

  Gilmreth watched the young woman below, sensing the pureness of power that emitted from her. Slowly, the dragon folded his great wings around his willing victim, his head lowered unhurriedly, and moments later an unearthly red glow built up around the dragon as he fed. The energy from his victim flowed into Gilmreth, strengthening and satiating the dragon.

  “Behold Gilmreth, behold the great dragon!” Jalene spoke forcefully, her heart pulsing with excitement and blood lust. Even without the mind link, she could feel herself reacting physically to Gilmreth’s feeding.

  The crowd echoed her words back to her, the chant becoming louder and louder as the dragon fed. “Gilmreth! Gilmreth! Gilmreth!”

  At last, the dragon raised his head, satiated for the moment. With a fierce burst of dragon fire, Gilmreth launched himself into the night air with powerful beats of his wings. In moments, the dragon had vanished from sight.

  “Let the feasting begin!” Jalene commanded to the captivated crowd below, feeling lightheaded and weak from the after effects of the sacrifices.

  She swayed slightly on her feet, the results of Gilmreth’s feeding still rolling tantalizingly through her mind. She felt as if she held the entire world in the palm of her hand.

  Storn, who was still standing silently behind Jalene, signaled a priest watching from the base of the temple, who in turn nodded to someone inside the temple entrance. Out of the temple, hundreds of servers began carrying large trays laden with rich food to the numerous tables that surrounded the temple. The young boys who had been turning the meat above the fires were using large sharp knives to carve generous portions of savory meat and piling them onto waiting platters. The crowd surged hungrily forward to partake of the almost heavenly feast.

  Upon the temple, Jalene watched with visible contempt as the crowd pushed and shoved, trying to get to the food. It was all the numerous temple guards could do to maintain control.

  “Look at them,” Storn commented emotionlessly, his cold, expressionless gaze sweeping the crowd. “They are so easily led. They are ours to do with as we wish.”

  “No, Storn,” corrected Jalene, fixing him with an icy stare. “They are mine to do with as I please! Remember, it is Gilmreth and I who control Draydon! You still have a lot more of my city to build. Make sure the overseers get the new time tables.”

  “Yes, Milady,” Storn replied with a slight bow of his head. “It will be done.”

  Jalene turned and marched toward the stairs, which led down into the heart of the temple. She needed desperately to rest from her use of sorcery and her mind link with the dragon.

  Behind her Storn watched Jalene leave, his face expressionless, and his eyes reflecting some inner dark, malicious thought that fought to stay hidden. Looking down at the milling crowd, he watched them contemptuously as they fought over the food. There was enough for everyone, but the crowd still pushed and fought each other for it. Gesturing to Baelen Storn released the other priests, sending them back into the temple. He still had much to do before retiring for the night.

  -

  Early the next morning, Jalene entered the huge temple doorway at the base of the massive structure. Four well-armed guards stood at the entrance, standing straight and tall, their eyes not wavering as Jalene passed. Entering, she walked down a well-lit hall to a flight of wide stairs which led upwards into the heart of the temple. She climbed six flights of stairs, passing an occasional priest and the guards stationed at each level. At last she arrived at the true heart of the temple.

  Stepping out into a long, wide hallway Jalene paused, watching one of the artists they had brought in. He was painting a large mural. It portrayed Gilmreth, in all of his savage glory, sweeping down out of the ebony black night sky, his yellowish red eyes blazing, wings spread wide, talons ready to strike, and breathing deadly dragon fire.

  Walking farther down the hallway, Jalene stopped and stared at a completed mural, which showed the great temple at night lit by hundreds of fiery torches. Black uniformed guards surrounded the temple with the red robed temple priests lining the upper platform. Two of the stone dragons were portrayed with glowing eyes of sinister fiery red. A whisper of sound suddenly alerted her to the presence of someone else. She whirled, angry at the sound of quiet footsteps behind her.

  “Impressive, isn’t it?” Storn’s cold voice said, his eyes focused on Jalene. “It shows the dragon in all of his fearsome glory.”

  Jalene eyed her Head Priest who stood there, his face expressionless, the cowl of his robe pulled back. Those unwavering blue eyes gave her chills, and the cold cast of the man’s face didn’t inspire much confidence either. This man was becoming dangerous, she realized. The power he held in the temple was second only to hers. His ability to command the priests and the guards was almost uncanny. Unlimited power had a way of doing that to people. Jalene had hoped her High Priest would be immune and not dare to challenge her authority.

  She knew that Storn would have to be watched more carefully in the future. The power she had given this man in her temple hierarchy was both necessary and useful. His comment last night indicated he might be developing aspirations that could someday become contrary to her own plans. If necessary, a demonstration of her power should put Storn back in his place.

  “Yes, it does,” Jalene replied, not giving the painting a further glance. “But I expect only the best in my temple.”

  Storn nodded, looking down the long hallway at the other mural that was nearing completion. “The entire hallway will be filled with murals within two more months. It will be quite an impressive tribute to your power.”

  Gesturing Storn to follow Jalene continued down the hallway, entering a large room. In the center stood a miniature city that had been painstakingly built by skilled craftsmen. It had already gone through dozens of alterations to arrive at its present state. Jalene walked over to the city, staring intently at its small buildings, squares, and parks willing them to take on a life of their own. This was her future Draydon. The city she saw in her dreams.

  In the center stood the great temple with the huge square before it, surrounded by four massive buildings with majestic latticed observation towers. Beyond them was a wide green park area, completely encircling the buildings and the towers. This would be the heart of Jalene’s city. After the park area were several rows of smaller buildings made of sparkling white stone. These would be the shops and businesses of the new, improved Draydon. Beyond these businesses lay thousands of small homes for the common people. Jalene had designed several different ones; those for the commoners, the middle class, and finally the upper class.

  The entire city wasn’t portrayed since it would have taken up too much room. Her final plans called for a city with a population of nearly two hundred thousand. That would involve bringing in practically all the known surviving people from the far outlying districts.

  She would allow some of the smaller villages around Draydon to stay autonomous. They would be needed to grow the food her great city would require. Already these villages had been expanded and quotas put in place for the amount of food that each one must produce. Missing a village’s quota wasn’t permissible; it meant that someone from the village would be chosen to serve as a sacrifice to the dragon. It helped to ensure that the quotas were never missed!

  “How long before the city is completed?” demanded Jalene, turning to face Storn, her eyes meeting his. She couldn’t help but feel impatient at the pace of construction. Much had been accomplished, but much still remained to be done.

  “Another year and all the shops and business buildings will be completed, as well as some of the homes for the upper class,” Storn replied carefully, staring unafraid into Jalene�
��s cold, unwavering eyes. “After that, another year to complete all the homes for the upper class, two years for the middle class, and about five years for the lower class.”

  “So long,” growled Jalene, dissatisfied, her face red with anger at the time still required to construct her city. “Can it be sped up?”

  “No, Milady,” replied Storn, shaking his head. “Stone can only be quarried so fast, and the workers can only accomplish so much on a given day. To accomplish what you wish will take the time I have just specified.”

  “At least the main part of my city will be completed soon,” Jalene muttered with a tinge of disappointment in her voice.

  “I still wish you would move into the temple,” Storn suggested in his deep, unyielding voice. “It would be much safer if you were here so the temple priests and the guards could keep better watch over you. The populace still can’t truly be trusted. It’s not safe for you to live away from the temple.”

  Jalene’s anger flared at him like a hot flame at the suggestion. “No, Storn; we have discussed this before. I will stay where I am!”

  How dare he even suggest such a thing! She needed the privacy and quiet that her rooms provided. In addition, they were quite luxurious and far better than anything in the temple. Besides, regardless of how unpopular she might be with some of the people, no one would dare to raise a threatening hand against her. The consequences of such an act would be too terrible to comprehend.

  “But the Stone of Loraine would be much safer here,” Storn continued, his hands clenched tightly, staring intently at Jalene. “The guards could protect it!”

  Her piercing gaze returned swiftly to the priest. “What do you know about the Stone of Loraine?” she hissed, suspicion entering her voice, staring harshly at Storn, her eyes taking on a deadly glint. “I’ve never called it by that name!” How could he possibly know about the stone? She had told no one what the scepter was!

  “I’ve heard legends and read a few books; your scepter matches the legendary stone of the ancients,” Storn replied carefully, realizing he had made a strategic mistake by mentioning the Stone of Loraine by name. He watched Jalene carefully, unsure of what her reaction would be. She was so unpredictable.

  “It would be best if you kept your mouth shut!” Jalene warned, glancing one final time at her city and then staring icily at Storn. “Have the overseers speed up the work. I want your timeline pushed up; pushed up a lot! I would hate to have to replace my Head Priest!”

  Turning, Jalene strode angrily from the room. She was rapidly growing tired of excuses. After all, she was the sorceress Jalene, ruler of Draydon, and Keeper of the Great Dragon! Her will would be done, or the consequences would be dire indeed!

  Behind her, Storn’s face slipped out of its carefully controlled mask, a look of scorn and amusement flickering briefly over his strong features. “I doubt it, my young sorceress,” he murmured ominously. “I may not be quite as easy to replace as you think.”

  Turning back to the miniature replica of Draydon, Storn stood looking at it with arms folded enigmatically across his chest. The work could be speeded up considerably, but he would have to be careful, very careful. Jalene must not become aware of how the work was being sped up.

  There were some things that Jalene didn’t need to know about just yet. That would come later. Storn had his own personal reasons for wanting the city completed. For now, Jalene’s ambitions ran parallel with his own, and as long as they did the young sorceress could be tolerated. After studying the miniature city for a few more minutes, Storn turned and left the room.

  -

  Jalene returned to her home, going straight to the large room that contained her spell book and the Stone of Loraine. Looking briefly about the lavishly furnished room, she picked up the ancient spell book, sat down in a richly padded chair, and opened it.

  For a long time, she studied several spells carefully. For weeks now she had been wondering if she actually controlled Gilmreth. Often the dragon seemed hesitant about obeying her commands, almost as if weighing the alternatives in his evil, depraved mind. It was essential to her future plans that the dragon stay under her control. Not finding what she was seeking, she went to a shelf and pulled down the dragon scroll, which she had gleaned from Draydon’s archives when she’d first arrived in town.

  Returning to her chair, she opened the old scroll and slowly unrolled it, carefully reading the ancient language. It spoke of the dragons being created by the great sorcerers of the Golden Age as a demonstration of their power. Each sorcerer was to have a dragon of his or her own to command once they achieved their full power and abilities. The scroll spoke of several dragons that Jalene had never heard of, and then it mentioned Gilmreth.

  According to the scroll, Gilmreth was one of the last dragons to be created before the Worldfire destroyed the Golden Age. He was also the largest and the most fearsome of the dragons. Even the most powerful sorcerers reportedly had trouble controlling Gilmreth. The scroll went on to say that the leaders of that time questioned whether anyone could actually control him. It was feared that the dragon was much more intelligent than they had originally believed. A decision was reached that the dragon would have to be destroyed before it became too dangerous, but the Worldfire came before that action could be carried out, and Gilmreth and the other dragons escaped.

  For years, the scroll went on, the escaped dragons preyed upon the survivors of the Worldfire, inflicting carnage and destruction wherever they found survivors trying to rebuild in the blasted, blackened, and poisoned land. As the number of people continued to dwindle, the dragons took to fighting amongst themselves. Gilmreth, over several centuries, hunted down and killed all of the older, smaller dragons until only he remained.

  Finally, nearly starved, he returned to Firestorm Mountain, an area the dragons had shunned since their escape, only to find an abundance of human survivors living in primitive villages. For over one hundred years, he fed upon and ravished the humans living in the shadow of the mountain, until finally Malcon Sylvar invoked the powerful sleeping spell that put Gilmreth into a deep nearly dreamless slumber. Jalene looked at the bottom of the scroll and the signature that lay tellingly upon the old-yellowed paper. TIROL SYLVAR.

  “I wonder if any Sylvars still survive across the mountain. Someday I will have to send my temple guards to find out. What a celebration it would be, to allow Gilmreth to feast on the descendants of his greatest enemy,” Jalene murmured quietly to herself, imagining the festivities that would surround such a momentous event. Just the idea of how she could use such a sacrifice to solidify her power both excited and gave her cause for thought.

  Thinking about the Sylvars made her wonder again about Gilmreth. At the back of her mind, she still felt extremely uncomfortable about the dragon. The centuries old writings of Tirol Sylvar sent a warning signal to Jalene. Faintly, a voice in the back of her mind whispered that she had unleashed a monster, a creature that could destroy everything, including herself, if she didn’t destroy it first. A brief vision of herself shackled to the top of the temple flashed through Jalene’s mind. Gilmreth hovered above, ready to feed, his fetid breath nearly overwhelming her. Shaking her head, Jalene fought to ignore the terrifyingly haunting visualization.

  Turning, she stared at the Stone of Loraine glowing softly in its case. Surely Gilmreth couldn’t resist the stone, the greatest amulet to come from the Golden Age? Closing her eyes, she leaned back, relaxing for a moment. This was her city. The people worshiped her and she controlled the dragon, not vice versa. She would have to watch Storn Daes. Something just didn’t feel right there, particularly his surprising knowledge of the Stone of Loraine. That had stunned Jalene considerably. The man had a past, a mystery that someday Jalene would uncover.

  Later, Jalene retired to her bedroom. Removing her clothes she took a long luxurious bath, enjoying the warm water and the calming effect it had on her. After a long while, she went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep. In her dreams, she saw her past wher
e she was abused as a child, and always at the end of her dreams was the dragon. The same dragon that seemed to haunt her dreams night after night. Her dreams always ended the same way. She was alone with the dragon, her sorcery had vanished, and the dragon seeking his revenge on the poor mortal who had tried to control him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lynol sat at the long oak table in Malcon’s underground crypt, reading her mother’s diary for the hundredth time. Numerous books and scrolls lay open and unrolled upon the table, pulled down from the crowded book filled shelves. There was so much information mentioned casually in the diary that she and Malcon didn’t fully understand. The amount of knowledge lost since the Worldfire was incredible! The mysterious wonders the diary hinted at, the life style the ancients had taken for granted, the complicated and impossible machines they created and operated was unbelievable.

  They had done considerable research using Malcon’s extensive library of old books and scrolls just to be able to understand part of what her mother described in her diary. The world that Cathy had lived in had been truly amazing.

  “Your mother would have been a very intriguing person to have met,” stated Malcon, watching Lynol from inside the constantly shifting spectral blue light of his dais. “With what we now know from your mother’s diary, much of the ancient complex underneath Firestorm Mountain is held in some type of protective stasis field that prevents the ravages of time from affecting it. Their science was truly astounding!”

  “You have no memory of my mother coming down inside the crypt and reprogramming you to reveal yourself to me as she says in her diary?” asked Lynol, wishing Malcon remembered her mother.