A Clash of Fates: The Echoes Saga: Book Nine

by Quaintrell, Philip C.

Gideon took in the group that had claimed the area around the hearth. “Well look at this,” he said with a delighted smile. “We’re all back together again. I would never have thought it possible.”

  “By my count we’re missin’ one,” Doran commented into his drink.

  Gideon didn’t need to look around to know who the dwarven king was referring to. “I assume Asher and Avandriell were invited.”

  “They would have been,” Vighon replied, “if we knew where to send the invitation to.”

  “There isn’t a soul in all of Illian who doesn’t know about today,” Galanör said. “There are farewell parties in every street.”

  “He’s a ranger,” Vighon stated. “As is Avandriell. They come and go. That is their way.”

  Reyna’s head tilted to the side, taking in the rest of the chamber. “I would say he’s coming,” she said with a knowing smile.

  Inara turned around to discover that almost everyone in the chamber was slowly moving towards the dragon platform, their heads turned to the sky.

  “Asher!” Adilandra rejoiced as she pushed her way down from Gideon’s arm. The girl dashed to the platform, weaving her way through the numerous legs that gathered there.

  Along with the others, Inara made her way to the platform, though being queen meant she didn’t have to weave as her daughter did. Her eyes scanned the blue sky, noting a canopy of cloud coming in from the west.

  There they were.

  It was hard to miss an enormous bronze dragon soaring through the heavens, even from such a distance. In that moment, Inara envied Asher, for nothing beat arriving on dragon back.

  * * *

  Asher looked down on Namdhor’s ancient keep. You’re showing off, he accused.

  Avandriell continued to fly, always sure to angle herself so her bronze scales caught the light of the sun perfectly. Those are the eyes of the realm down there, she replied. It suits to have them remember us. Lords pay handsomely to slay the beasts of the world.

  Asher couldn’t help but laugh. Sometimes I worry there’s too much of me in you.

  The dragon tucked in her gargantuan wings and dived down to the keep. Asher remained close to his saddle, his chest to the leather, while his hands gripped the handles with a touch of magic to secure them. The rushing wind picked up his hair and green cloak, but he was sure to keep his eyes open. Nothing in the world could rival this feeling.

  Avandriell spread her wings and arched her body until she was able to glide towards the dragon platform. She beat them twice to reduce her speed and bring her back legs down first. The entire keep shook beneath her landing, her front claws thundering into the stone. Her head bowed, Asher got his first look at the party between the three thick horns that protruded from Avandriell’s head.

  You enjoyed that, Asher remarked, climbing down from his saddle.

  Not as much as you did, I sense.

  The ranger flashed his companion a wry smile as he walked towards the throne room. He never quite made it, however, before being attacked by a creature so dreadful that he had never managed to best it. Adilandra yelled his name as she barrelled into his legs and Asher feigned injury in his subsequent fall. With the girl scrabbling on top of him, he pretended to succumb to her claws. Only when she thought herself the victor did he respond with a devastating counter attack. His tickling hands made her howl so much that the princess fell away, allowing him a moment to regain his feet.

  “Asher!” Prince Athis was the next to greet him, his arm coming at the ranger from far away.

  Asher gripped the young man’s forearm. “If you grow any taller I’m going to have to start defending Giants instead of slaying them.”

  “Where have you been?” the prince asked eagerly, as he always did.

  “Where haven’t we been?” Asher put to him. “We last set down in Longdale. They were being plagued by a King Basilisk. Its mouth was so big it could wrap its jaws around Avandriell’s neck.” His every word excited the prince and even Queen Gwenyfer beside him.

  “But you killed it!” Athis exclaimed.

  “Of course,” Asher said casually.

  Who killed it? Avandriell demanded.

  Asher’s mouth twisted. “With some help,” he finally added, thumbing over his shoulder.

  Some help? the dragon echoed. Next time, you can decapitate the snake with a head thicker than a tree!

  Asher stifled his laughter and turned to the lady of the day. “Your Grace,” he said to Queen Gwenyfer with a bow. “Illian’s loss will undoubtedly be Erador’s gain. I have something for you.”

  Gwenyfer looked both intrigued and excited. “A gift from a ranger?” she said with anticipation.

  From his belt, Asher produced a finely curved dagger just a little longer than his hand. “The blade is Basilisk bone,” he explained. “It’s easily concealed and light to carry, yet the bone is strong.”

  Gwenyfer happily accepted the gift, displaying it for Athis in both hands. “A rare blade,” she uttered in wonder. “Thank you, Asher.”

  Inara came up behind them. “Are you giving my children weapons again, Asher?”

  “Your Grace,” the ranger greeted, extending his bow for Vighon. “Forgive my intrusion. I couldn’t let Queen Gwenyfer leave for the west without a small token.”

  Athis looked from Gwenyfer’s dagger to the ranger. “How do I get one of those?”

  “Perhaps you should accompany us on our next—”

  “No,” Vighon and Inara said in unison.

  Inara cleared her throat. “The sword techniques you’ve already taught them are… quite enough.”

  Asher flashed the young queen and prince a coy grin. He had, indeed, taught them a few strategies and techniques over the last few years that some - the Guardians of the Realm - would consider dishonourable. Everyone’s attention shifted again when Avandriell turned her head to the sky and leapt into flight. By the time she had cleared the platform, the children had been distracted by something else and the party had resumed. Asher took the opportunity to properly greet the king and queen with a tight embrace.

  “I knew you wouldn’t miss saying farewell,” Vighon said with a pat on Asher’s arm. “And you are most welcome, as always. The drinks are on us.” Before the king could say another word, a servant whispered in his ear, drawing his attention to a lord and lady in the far corner. “Ah. If you’ll excuse me, Asher. Enjoy yourself!”

  Asher turned to Inara who was still watching Avandriell ascend into the empty ocean above. “I would ask if you miss it, but that seems like a—”

  “Every day,” Inara replied, her eyes never leaving the sky. “I miss it every day.” The queen took a breath and tore her gaze away until it was filled by the ranger. “Come,” she bade with a genuine smile. “Have a drink with us. I’ve never tired of your stories.”

  Asher was happily led by the arm into a group of familiar faces. Warm greetings were made by all, including Doran who nearly tackled the ranger to the ground. Vighon soon returned from his kingly duties and gave Asher a tankard of Namdhor’s finest beer. All the while, he could feel Avandriell flying side by side with Ilargo, the two exchanging stories of their own.

  And, try as others did, none were able to separate the group over the day. They remained by the fire, drinking, eating, and laughing, blissfully unaware of the hours slipping by. Adilandra came and went, pausing only once to have a short sleep on Asher’s lap. Queen Gwenyfer knelt down between Inara and Vighon with her drink and listened to their stories, tales from decades past. Athis was never far from Asher’s side, hanging on his every word.

  Every time he saw this particular group, especially the children, Asher was reminded why they had all fought so hard and for so long. The future they had forged was bright and Athis, Gwenyfer, and Adilandra were going to inherit that well-won peace. And who knew what they would do with the world? The ranger was just glad he would be around to find out.

  “Your Grace!” came an urgent call, turning every head to the Namdhorian soldier
rushing towards them.

  Vighon sat forward and put his tankard down. “Captain Hawkins.”

  “Your Grace,” the captain said again as he arrived by the fire. “Orcs!” he declared.

  “Orcs?” Doran spat, his hand naturally falling onto Andaljor beside him. “Point me in the direction, lad!”

  Vighon stood up and held out a hand to calm the moment. “Orcs, Captain Hawkins?”

  “They’ve attacked from the mountains, your Grace,” he reported. “They have set upon the barracks, to the north.”

  “In daylight?” Reyna questioned.

  “It must be the Sons of Karakulak,” Inara reasoned. “They have grown ever bolder over the last few years. They do not fear the sun.”

  Vighon gripped the sword of the north on his hip. “Ready my horse,” he commanded.

  As the remaining heroes of old stood up, ready to put themselves on that fateful line between the light and the dark, Asher had already slipped away and stridden most of the way back to the dragon platform. “Please, your Graces!” he called, halting their action. “Today is for Queen Gwenyfer. I would not have her day spoiled.” The ranger gestured to the open air behind him. “Ava and I will take care of the orcs.”

  Without waiting for a word of reply, Asher leapt from the edge of the platform and plummeted down towards The King’s Lake. Ice or no ice, the lake would kill any who fell from such a height. But Avandriell had no intention of letting her companion meet his gruesome end. The bronze dragon dived down until their bodies were perfectly aligned. With Asher secured in his saddle, Avandriell waited until the last second before fanning her wings and gliding over the surface of the water. So close was she that it rippled beneath her.

  Without losing speed, the dragon climbed into the sky, giving them both a good view of the distant barracks, built into the base of The Vengoran Mountains. Avandriell’s sharp eyes informed the ranger that orcs were scaling the walls astride their terrible six-legged Garks.

  Asher hunkered down into his saddle, his eyes fixed on their prey and a hungry smile on his face. “Let’s hunt some monsters.”

  The End.

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  Author Notes

  1st April 2021

  So much emotion right now. I can’t really believe I’m here, writing this.

  It’s taken 6 years, 9 books, and 1.6 million words but I finally did it - I told the story burning a hole in my head and finished my very first fantasy series.

  I hope you have all found this ending to be fitting and worthy of the journey we’ve all been on. It was tempting to agonise over it, aware that there are so many people invested now (very different to when I started), but I still had to approach it as I did every other book: I’m a fantasy reader.

  I can only ever write what I would like to read, which I think has helped since we’re all just fantasy readers at the end of the day. This was, perhaps, the most daunting of all the books to dive into but, once I did, I found it very hard to pull myself away. This world and these characters are very addictive and I just love letting them all out of my head.

  I was also aware that this was my last chance to say and do everything I wanted to do with these characters. All those little conversations and emotions that needed to be had - this was it! In that regard, I took my time and let everything play out on the page. If one character needed to talk to another, I just let it happen. The alternative was to let those moments go and move on in favour of the pace, but these characters all deserve their final moments in the spotlight.

  And so here we are - The Echoes Saga is complete. I prefer that word to over. I’ve loved every minute and every word of it. It all began with a notepad and ‘Run Boy Run’ by Woodkid. I envisioned Asher riding on his horse at great speed. I knew he was both chasing something and being chased himself though, of course, at the time I had no idea what either of these things were. I know now, as do you, that that was the concept that formed the whole foundation of Asher’s character. Interestingly, I listened to the same track while writing that last part of the epilogue, only then he was soaring with Avandriell at great speed.

  Ooo, a little tidbit you might have missed; the chapter titles are repeated (echoes, if you will) through books 1-9. They would be hard to notice, even if you read one after the other, but I really like how the same word can be applied to different situations and characters. I thought it was cool…

  So, where to begin? Perhaps the very beginning. My favourite part has to be when the Winds of Time spell actually connects two points in time and brings Alijah and Malliath together. This was unexpected for both me and Sarkas and I loved that it was the reason Malliath hatched in the first place. As a result, Malliath spent thousands of years bonded to someone who hadn’t even been born - another reason his mental health was so poor. It also explains why Alijah could never bond with a dragon when Inara did and why he always felt like he was meant for something great, but could never find the right path. I suppose theirs was always a tragedy in the making.

  I enjoyed pulling back the curtain with this last book. In the previous books, I deliberately left out the truth of the extent where Malliath’s influence was concerned. I wanted you to see Alijah through the eyes of the other characters before seeing what was really going on. Ultimately, through various characters, Alijah was something of a grey area due to differing opinions on how he should be dealt with. I’m sure, before the end, you had a good idea of what you wanted to see happen to him, be it punishment or redemption. Either way, the end is the end and the characters pushed the story on more than I did.

  So, as you might already know, I don’t really plan out the story before I start writing. I have general ‘beats’ in my mind where I see the story landing in parts, but I have no idea how or if I’ll get there. In my mind, Alijah never succeeded in harming the tree - that whole battle was going to be at the very end of the book and the heroes would save the day at the last minute.

  As I started writing, though, I realised the pace of the story was carrying us to that point with all haste. This didn’t really bother me as I thought the book would be as long as it needed to be. But then I had a new thought. What if he did succeed? I instantly knew that was the story I wanted to tell. It would speed up the pace and give the heroes a ticking clock. I also wanted to see what things would be like in Verda once magic began to fade.

  From there, the story really took on a life of its own. I had absolutely no idea how they were going to beat Alijah and Malliath but, as always, the idea came to me in the shower. I tend to put my mind into that of the characters’ and see where my thoughts go. In this instance, I thought like Gideon as he had a vast knowledge and the added wisdom of Ilargo.

  So I naturally started thinking about separating Alijah from Malliath. That’s when it got really interesting, because I LOVE it when the story naturally draws on events that have taken place in previous books that I never intended. If you ever re-read the series, I’m sure the events of book 3 will mean so much more to you now.

  I felt a bit like that when I came to realise that Alijah would die in the exact same spot where he had tried to kill himself in book 4. The echo of it all really made me smile, despite the grim nature of it all.

  If there’s one thing I’ve learned writing this last book, it’s the importance of the journey. I’m sure some of you out there predicted the end of the saga, perhaps even several books ago. I’m okay with that. I’m not here to subvert expectations. I’m just here to tell a story, however that might unfold. I don’t really plan a lot of the story, so any surprises or twists just kind of happen organically. Sometimes, there are no twists, just a contest of wills and quick thinking on the characters’ part.

  For some characters, their journey came to an end in this book. I was a blubbering wreck when I wrote Athis’s last scene. It was ma
de all the harder because my newborn daughter was sleeping in a sling, strapped to my chest, at the time. Thankfully, I kept her asleep and completed the scene without calamity. In truth, I didn’t know Athis was going to die. I suspected either he or Ilargo would perish in that last battle, but I didn’t know which until I got there.

  I tried to rewrite it a few times in my head so that he survived, but it never felt right. That kind of thing can happen from time to time, where I try and exert my influence over the story and I end up a little stuck. My imagination just can’t conjure the right words, especially when it comes to putting words in characters’ mouths. When that happens, I have to let go of whatever I was trying to wedge in and let the story flow organically.

  It still hurt like hell to see Athis die though…

  And then there’s Russell. Oh Russell… His inevitable end began to take form in my mind when I was writing book 7. I’m glad he was able to make it through to this last one. I have plans for the old wolf, though. I intend to flesh his story out more in the third book of The Ranger Archives, back when Asher met him for the first time. I hope that relieves some of the heartache for you Russell fans, I know it does me. In fact, in The Ranger Archives, we’ll get to see exactly how The Pick-Axe ended up in Asher’s possession.

  Getting back to this book, it just felt right, at the end there, to delve right in to Erador. It felt like the elephant in the room to me. Here’s this massive kingdom, equal to Illian, that we know has been under Alijah’s control of years and yet there was a chance we might never know what’s going on over there. The more I thought about it, the more I thought about Gideon. Of all the surviving characters, he had the strongest link to the country. And our new king and queen, Vighon and Inara, would surely have an interest in their neighbouring country.

  Gwenyfer and Erador’s troubles just kind of clicked as I wrote the chapter. It felt organic and real and wholly believable. The fact that Gwenyfer and Prince Athis offered an echo of a younger Inara and Vighon was just a satisfying consequence of it all. If you’re like me, you’ve already gone on ahead and started dreaming of what their future might look like.