Dragon Dreams (The Chronicles of Shadow and Light) Book 1

by Dusty Lynn Holloway

  Auri wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Why? Why does the land react to them?”

  “It is part of their legacy, their gift. They are the caretakers of all of the beings that walk upon the lands. They have certain gifts that allow them to fulfill their responsibilities.”

  “And the elves, what do they do?”

  “They are the caretakers of the land itself,” he said quietly. He sat down in front of her on the rug, and stared at her with bright, intense eyes. “Once we worked in tandem, dragons and elves working together to care for Terradin and its people. And then the dragons split amongst themselves, causing a deep fraction in the land. After the war, the rift of the land grew deeper, allowing the poison to seep in, allowing the hollowness to begin.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  He sighed, looking down at the rug in frustration. “I know, but there is no way to show you something that is a second sense within me. Something that most elves are taught at birth.”

  She flinched. “I was left here after the death of my mother and raised by a kind-hearted human,” she said stiffly. “If I had known the location, if anyone had known the location, I would have gone to see the place where my mother grew up a long time ago.”

  Liran looked at her with quiet, compassionate eyes. “I am not criticizing you, Auri. You are here through no fault of your own, and even had you chosen to stay here where you were raised, and never gone to see El`ness Nahrral, I would never have faulted you for that. But there is a certain sense that you learn upon the isle that you don’t have because you have been raised here. A sense that is difficult to explain with words.”

  She nodded. Her body relaxed. She gazed absently across the hall to the candles flickering shadows on the walls, thinking. Then she found his face again. “Could you show me? Is that something that you can show, like with the images?”

  He hesitated. “It might be . . . confusing for you.”

  At this, she smiled and almost laughed. “More so than any of the rest of this?”

  His eyes lit and a soft half-smile touched his lips. “Perhaps not.” He came up onto the balls of his feet again in a crouch then reached forward and gently put his hand against her cheek. It was brief contact, but it felt like a zap of lightning.

  Connections formed, burning brightly amidst the ignorance of her mind like illuminated string, tying together things that she had never even known existed. First was the elven tie to the land. It was strong, a brilliant, golden string. But at one end, the string was turning dark, almost as though the connection was diseased. Before she even had time to think about that, an image flashed of the dragon’s string. It was pure white, and even stronger than the elven string. Like hard, cabled, reinforced metal that had been purified until it was brilliant white. One end of it, roughly about a third, was a deep, shadowless black. Her heart pounded when she saw it. This was different than the darkened part of the elven string. This was pitch-black with no brilliancy whatsoever.

  Liran took his hand away. “That is the only way that I can think of to show you. What I can’t show you is that they are all interconnected. After the Dragon War, the lands began to decay. The blackness that you saw at the end of their string is like a slow moving poison, seeping into the earth. I cannot explain fully because I am not a dragon and I don’t understand all of it.”

  Her body trembled slightly, and she had a faint queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She put a hand over it, and inhaled slowly through her nose.

  “It makes me want to throw up too,” Liran offered quietly.

  She nodded with her eyes closed. “What—” It came out rough; she cleared her tight throat and tried again. “What do you want from me?”

  “Come back with me. Meet with the king and queen.”

  The pounding in her heart grew stronger, louder. Meet with the king and queen? Travel to the place where her mother was born? “Why do you want me?” She opened her eyes in time to see that the question made him uncomfortable. “How do I know that you aren’t somehow manipulating me?”

  He sat for a long time, looking at her face, reading her eyes and her expression. “You don’t,” he finally said. “You have no guarantee other than my word. And I realize that my word means little to you.” He shook his head, looking away from her. “As for the other, I can give no answer that would make sense to you right now.” His head came up, and his eyes lit with a blazing intensity that was so bright it made her flinch. “I can only tell you that now is the calm before the storm. And I feel—with every fiber of my being—that you are vital for our survival.”

  She laughed. It was a slightly hysterical, desperate sound. “Me? Time has proven that I can do nothing but provide fodder for others’ jests and cruelty. The one who is different, and does not belong in polite, elegant society. I very much doubt that it will be any different among elven-kind.”

  His face tensed. His bright eyes blazed with fury. Something, some fear on her face, had him standing quickly. He walked to the windows along the east wall and looked out at the dark, probably seeing everything there just as she could.

  She was breathing rapidly, and every heartbeat pulsed all the way to her toes. “Why does that anger you?” she whispered, staring at the rough shadows of his face amidst the flickering candles.

  “That too I cannot explain,” he said quietly, after a time.

  She watched him standing there, against the flicker of shadows and light, and her mind went back to the images that he had shown her. He had always stood apart in them. Separate. She was beginning to get a sense of him, an image of the man behind the mask. “In the vision of the pavilion, you were standing at the back with a row of elves. Why?”

  “I am a Vi`dal. It is my job to protect the king and queen.”

  “Then why aren’t you protecting them now?”

  He turned slowly, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned casually against the window. “I am protecting them, just in a different way. The queen called five of the Vi`dal to be what you would call Watchers in the common tongue.”

  She rose slowly, thinking this through. Then she walked toward him, looking at him intently, trying to put all of the pieces together. “And what do the Watchers do?”

  “We look for a miracle,” he whispered quietly.

  “What sort of miracle? I don’t understand.”

  “I know.” His voice was sad. “We look for a way to stop the poison, Auri. We walk the earth of Terradin, and slow the decay that is even now seeping deeper. And the whole while we search for a way to reverse it. We search for a miracle.”

  “Why me?” she ground out in frustration. “Why does this have anything to do with me?”

  “Perhaps,” he said quietly, “perhaps you are that miracle.”

  She closed her eyes against his words, and walked away from him, leaving him to stare after her with an unfathomable look on his face.

  She walked to the gardens that she had created when she was a child. Shimmering, blue stones cobbled the walks, twisting and twining through several different levels of trees and greenery. Here everything grew by her hand. She had leveled out a small, clear blue lake in the middle of the garden, lined on the bottom with the same blue stones of the walkways.

  Benches were scattered throughout, most prominently circling the self-made lake. She went to sit at one now and stared at the ripples undulating across the water. The wind blew her hair against her face as she leaned into it. She loved the feel of the wind on her face and in her hair. She loved how it always made her feel alive.

  She got up after a while and slowly walked around the lake. It had taken her years to make the gardens, but the most difficult by far had been the lake.

  It took her about a quarter of an hour to make the circuit once around, but she still couldn’t find herself amongst her inner twisting thoughts, so she started around again. The second time around, a figure joined her.

  “I will miss you,” the king said. Auri paused in her steps
and looked up at him. His grey eyes were grave and somber. His face was still pale.

  “Who says I’m going anywhere?”

  He chuckled and then sighed, shaking his head. “I know you, sweetheart. You will walk around once and see that you need another turn. Twice and you will almost come to a conclusion. Three times and you will decide you must do what you can, and then the fourth time around you will come to terms with it all. You will go,” he said with certainty.

  She smiled and took his arm as she continued walking. “Why have you interrupted me then? I have only gone once around. I still have three more to go after this.”

  He laughed, a genuine one this time. “Because I am old, and can hardly keep up with you. I decided to head you off now in favor of rest sooner.”

  She shook her head, catching her hair as it blew into her face. “Two score ten and three is not old, my liege, and you are still considered very eligible. If the female nobility of Ardalan had their way, you would already have another queen.”

  He glared at her. “And how would you know this? If there is a political or social gathering here, I can almost guarantee your absence!”

  She grinned. “Almost, but you’re never completely sure are you?”

  His lips twitched. “No. You’ve lost your guardsmen so many times that they consider it part of their daily duties just to simply find you. I’ve heard them taking bets on who of them will actually manage it, and where you will deign to let yourself be seen.”

  She laughed. The sound rang out over the water and wind. The king smiled to hear it. “So,” he said, as they reached the benches on the far side of the lake, “this is where I leave you.” He reached up and brushed her hair away from her face. “I love you, Auri. Your mother, though I didn’t know her long, will always have a special place in my heart, just as her daughter will. She was my best friend after Arista died. She came into my life suddenly, blindingly.”

  Auri looked up at him. He had never wanted to speak of this before. “Did you and she . . . did you love her in that way then?”

  He looked away from her face to the water. Silence enveloped them for a moment before he spoke again. “I would be a liar if I told you that I felt nothing in that way for her because I did. But it was so overpowered by my memory of Arista, and by her memories of another, that nothing ever came of it.” He looked down at her again. “She was simply my best friend, and she remained so until the day she died.”

  Silence again. They stood looking at the water together, their arms entwined. “I have had word for some time that the black dragon is on the move again.” She looked at him in alarm, but he kept his face toward the water, avoiding her eyes. “He is gathering an army.”

  “Why did you not tell me? You’ve shared everything else with me about what is happening outside of Ardalan, why not this?”

  He smiled a sad smile. “I suppose I was trying to protect you. Ever since you were a child, news of the dark dragons has upset you. It’s like you are personally affronted by what they’re doing. It reaches into your soul and claws it with anguish. I’ve never seen any other react the same way.” He was quiet as he squeezed her hand then he whispered, “I just didn’t want to see you hurting anymore.”

  He turned to her, taking her upper arms within his large hands. “I know that it has not been easy, Auri. You have been an outcast here, even protected as you were by my autonomy. You have grown up without your mother, without any other of your own kind to guide you, and I know that I have made a poor father for you. I was broken when my wife Arista died and then broken again when your mother died. You were all I had left. I know that it wasn’t enough, that I wasn’t enough. I’ve always wished that I could somehow make up for the many wrongs in your life, but. . .” He closed his eyes in pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Auri reached up with a tender hand to cup his cheek. “You gave me all that you had. You gave me a home, a place to belong, if only with you. You gave me love when others couldn’t and I am so very grateful.”

  “And yet you still think that it is in spite of you,” he said hoarsely.

  Her smile was sad. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Oh, Auri.” He opened his eyes again to look at her. “Someday, somewhere, someone will love you. They will love you so passionately, so intensely, so completely, and only then will you realize that it is not in spite of who you are, but because of it.”

  She stared, slightly dazed by his vehemence. “And you? Will you marry again?”

  “Never,” he said flatly then he smiled. “Besides, I have had three women in my life who no one could ever hope to compare with. Three women who have given me enough to last for several lifetimes. I have no need of another.”

  The sun was rising more fully as they again looked out over the water. In the distance she could hear the castle slowly coming to life, but here in her garden it was peaceful.

  “I will send the Tide Skimmer to you at Tulenoss,” the king said after a while.

  “Tulenoss?”

  He nodded. “It’s the closest port to your destination.”

  She turned in surprise. “You know where the isle is,” she breathed, almost in accusation.

  He looked uncomfortable. “I know the general direction.”

  “Why have you never told me this before?” My home! You kept me from my home!

  He shifted his feet. “Your mother made me promise that you would not leave until someone of her own race came here looking for you. I argued with her, but she was adamant. It was her dying wish, Auri. I couldn’t gainsay her.” He looked at her pleadingly, desperate for her forgiveness in something that he knew meant so much to her.

  Auri sighed, hugging him. Those days were gone, and grudges or ill feelings didn’t belong here in their farewells.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled into her hair like a little child.

  “Forgiven.” She pulled away and searched his face. “I shall miss you and Sweena. Take care of her, Valdys. Let her replace me in your heart.”

  He smiled. “That is an unfair thing that you ask, both for her and for me. She should not try to replace another, nor can she.” His eyes were somber and sad. “No one can replace you.”

  They stood for another moment in silence then he gave her one more gruff hug and whispered in her ear, “I have kept him waiting in my selfishness. He is there, on the bench.” He kissed her forehead. “Go in peace and safety,” he whispered again then was gone, walking quietly away from the two who stared at each other across the distance that separated them.

  “Were you there the whole time?” she asked in surprise.

  Liran nodded, offering no excuse.

  “Is this normal for you, this eavesdropping?”

  He looked away. “I would be able to hear you even if I was inside,” he said quietly.

  She looked at him in shock. “How?”

  He shrugged. “It is part of the gifts of a Watcher.”

  He looked so alone in that moment that she found herself moving forward to sit next to him on the bench. “That must be difficult for you,” she said.

  He didn’t respond.

  She tilted her head back to let the breeze flutter through her hair again and closed her eyes. The sun was already bright and warm on her skin, red behind her closed eyelids. The breeze was a whisper across the water, floating through her soul and calming her.

  “Will you come with me?” he whispered softly.

  She kept her eyes closed. “Yes, Liran. I will come with you.”

  Chapter Seven- Found

  They left shortly after that. She had packed a few supplies—things that she wanted to keep with her should she not be able to return for a while—and then they had left. The castle grew more and more distant as they entered the forests surrounding Ardalan.

  The forests, she knew from the king’s geography books, would continue for many miles in their current direction: north-west. The port of Tulenoss was situated on the extreme edge of Torar-Araldyn, and was rumored to be a
small but crucial shipping community.

  It was a major stopping-off point for those wishing to travel further east into the vast Eldrian Sea or even to sail around to Eldaria. It was whispered that even the dwarves could be seen in the tiny community, bartering for goods from sailors coming in with shiploads of supplies, things that they couldn’t produce in their own country—which, from what her studies told her, wasn’t much.

  Torar-Araldyn was still beautiful, even beaten down as it was by the Dragon War. The country seemed clear and pristine. Every now and then as they walked she could see pockets of death, or hollowness as Liran had called it, and it saddened her.

  There was so much beauty: cool, clear mountains that were dotted with forests and glades; streams and lochs that twisted and twined through the valleys and along the steep banks of the emerald hillsides; an air so pure that it almost hurt to breathe it in . . . but it was all slowly dying. Withering. She could see that now. There were signs of it everywhere. She sighed and focused her attention on the elf walking beside her.

  He was quiet and seemed to be preoccupied. He walked at a fast pace that she easily kept up with, but never really appeared to pay attention to his surroundings. Instead she could see that he was focusing inward, as though he were searching through his memories and thoughts for the answer to some vast puzzle. Every once in a while he would stop and close his eyes, listening to something that she couldn’t hear.

  He stopped again, and his whole body went completely still. His face was intent, his eyes closed. His stillness permeated the little area surrounding them. Even the birds went silent.

  “What are you doing?” she finally asked, unable to quell her curiosity any longer.

  “Listening,” he said shortly.

  She smiled at his brevity. “I gathered that much. What are you listening to?”

  He opened his eyes. They were deep with things that she couldn’t see and hear. Deep with life and knowledge. Deep with weariness. “I’m listening for divergences,” he said carefully.

  “Divergences. . .” She lengthened the word, hoping for more of an explanation, but he only nodded his head. She had no idea what he was talking about. What divergences?

  “Hmm,” she said in an observational tone, as though she understood completely what he was talking about, and had some sort of intelligent opinion on it.