Zelspar and the Magicians

by Cheryl Rush Cowperthwait

  The sunset worked its masterpiece across the sky in brilliant reds and hues of vibrant orange. Zelspar’s sharp vision lead them down to the second marker near a tangle of scraggly bushes and a few scattered trees. Once they landed and the stones were cast aside, Perthorn tore another piece of his tunic and cut his palm with a superficial slice. Enough to saturate the center of the cloth and give it an appearance of a disposed bandage.

  Night gathered around them as they took to the sky for the last time that day. Zelspar decided to forge ahead far enough that if Flegmorr appeared close to the disposed bandage, they would still have time to react. With the faintest of light, he saw a cave up ahead. His wings tilted as he veered towards it. It had a nice ledge to grip. He landed and flooded the cave’s opening with flame to assure no enemy was present. The tension which had been held tight unwound as they found the cave uninhabited. It took short work to get ready for their rest. Weariness clothed them from head to foot and sleep snuck across their eyes. They slept draped in dreams and hope for the upcoming day.

  The old White Dragon awoke while the stars still danced to an ancient tune, shared only with those awake before the sun peeled back the vast expanse of the velveteen sky.

  He had awoken to feel a prickle. Then a burst of electric charge traveled across his arms to his neck. He bolted upright, eyes searching in the darkness for any foe. As the invisible energy circled his scales, he let his mind follow its path to feel its breath close to his ears and learn the nuances playing against him. The energy clawed at his throat and caused his jaws to spring open. Slow and deliberate, it found his tongue. With a sudden jolt, it shot up his throat, through his nerve endings, and ricocheted with a ping against his skull and ending with a series of explosive pops.

  Visions crowded his mind. His very heart shook his scales, releasing a wave of tremors to rattle his body. He could not call out, he was paralyzed.

  He closed his eyes and shuddered. Through the frenzy of his mind, he thought, Before the battle begins, I am doomed. Before his eyes could flick open, thoughts pelted his brain. He recognized the voice.

  Trust. React. Respond. The voice left. The energy abated yet felt it like a translucent binding that clung to every scale, fused with a Magic incomprehensible to fathom.

  Instead of being left drained and shaken, he was alert. Youthful energy coursed through his veins, pushing sleep out of his head. He was sure his body looked the same, but the sensation of being twice as large could not be shaken.

  A soft sigh left him as he watched the last two stars flee the sun’s spindly fingers. His yellow eyes gleamed. In that moment, all that he had ever been flooded his memories, and all that he had accomplished seared his mind. In an instant he realized it was determination that brought him this far, but it was unshakable faith that would carry his wings forward.

  His mind teased, prodded, and beguiled him. What would you do if you could do everything?

  A thunderous answer shook the cave. “I will change the Future!” Claps of distant thunder joined his primal roar. He breathed in Fire and Magic and bathed in its essence. Every atom of his body was awakened, alive, and fiercely ready for the day -- for the Future.

  Behind him, two magicians were jolted from their sleep and bed rolls. They pushed themselves flat against the back wall of the cave, and their hearts hammered as wildly as their eyes shifted across the dimly lit cave. They were certain their deaths were near.

  Zelspar turned. What met the eyes of the magicians was not the sometimes teasing, often times illuminated eyes of the White Dragon. What stood before them was a beast with fulgent yellow eyes above the rows of dagger sharp teeth. The magicians trembled.

  Zelspar stomped forward. Dust flew above his feet and past his flicking tail. The light of a thousand stars burst from his eyes, and immobilized even their breaths, held deep within their lungs. The two magicians squeezed their eyes shut, bodies quivering in fear. Zelspar shook his head, cleared his vision, and cracked a mischievous grin.

  “Good Morn!” he boomed, rattling the rocks.

  Perthorn violently threw down the rock he had clutched in his hand. “Thunder and Lightning, Zelspar! You scared me until I thought my bladder would empty through my nose. What’s gotten into you?” His hands were still shaking as he fought to smooth his hair behind his head.

  Zelspar chuckled softly, which only meant the ceiling did not cave in around them. “My apologies.” He sat down in front of them watching them collect their wits and push down their fears.

  Perthorn stomped close to Zelspar, snatched up his hat, which now carried a slice from a talon on its brim and shook it against his leg. He tried to glare at the Dragon but when he did, he saw Zelspar had one hand firmly gripping his muzzle, he burst out laughing.

  The mighty White Dragon joined in and soon the cave filled with the laughter of the three friends.

  Perthorn scratched at his sleep-matted hair and gave a sideways glance at Zelspar. “Would you share with us why you are so -- so um, rambunctious this morning?”

  “I was startled awake…” Zelspar said before interrupted.

  “Dash it all and throw it in a pot,” yelled Perthorn, “because you were startled awake you felt the need to awaken us in the same manner? If you were my size, I would punch that grin off your muzzle. Better yet, perhaps I should change you into a land lizard?”

  Zelspar waved his hand, desperately trying to fight down a laugh. “No, no, it isn’t that way. Let me tell you what had happened.”

  Perthorn’s eyes narrowed but he gave a slight nod of his head.

  “I was startled awake because I felt this energy crawling along my body. At first, I thought it must have been an alert to Flegmorr’s presence. I searched through the cave but couldn’t find the source. Remember how you and the others had found me after I sought the Great Ancestor?”

  “Yes, and you were nothing like we found you this morn.” Perthorn’s mumbled words still carried traces of anger through them.

  “You’re right. It was nothing like that time.” The sparkle in Zelspar’s eyes drew Perthorn in. “It was more like every speck of me was struck by lightning and it surged its power through me. I feel as if the Magic I was given by Sigrunn had only floated around inside of me before. Now, I feel like it seared itself on every hair and scale. It feels fused in me and on me like nothing I have ever experienced.”

  The Master Magician scraped his hand across his chin, rubbing it back and forth. “You feel the Magic is protecting you?”

  “No. Not protecting.” Zelspar’s searched for a way to explain the change. “I believe I was given the Magic previously, before you searched for me, but I believe it acted differently. It moved in my body not finding a home. I was foreign to it. Today...it, the new Magic, found a home. It accepted me -- traveled every portion of me and knows me now. I feel as I do with the Dragon Magic I previously knew. It is a part of me.”

  Perthorn could only shake his head. His experiences with Magic had always been far different. He had to learn, practice, and achieve each new form of Magic. It was difficult for him comprehend a Magic on this level. “This will be a benefit to our goal?”

  Zelspar grinned. “Let me say this. Even with all the help the Great Ancestor of all Dragons has given me, I have never felt this. The words are inadequate. It would take mountains of words to describe the difference I feel today. The last words that reached my mind were, Trust. React. Respond. The sound of the voice was Sigrunn’s. Doubt has extinguished itself from my mind. I am ready for whatever lies ahead.”

  Perthorn arched one brow as a smile inched its way across his rugged face. “Knowing you are ready reinforces my own confidence. What are we waiting for?” He grinned. For the first time, he actually felt ready.

  “Kiel, what do you say?” Zelspar asked, leaning closer to him.

  “I say we find those markers.” His smile moved the others into action.

  Both Zelspar and Perthorn talked at once, barking orders to get things packed, tied down
and ready to leave. A new sensation had taken hold of all three. It surpassed hope. It bordered between brash and bold and on the threshold of unstoppable. A light filled the cave that did not filter in from the outside. A beam so bright it filled three bodies and burned with an urgency to meet their Future. They could not prepare quick enough to leave.

  The time had arrived. Zelspar lowered to give easy access for his riders. Once situated, he turned with his eyes gleaming. He asked, “Ready?”

  Perthorn thrust his right arm out, his purple sleeve billowing, and answered. “Invisibility Magic done. Go!”

  The White Dragon launched from the ledge. His powerful wings tore at the sky and ripped the air as they climbed. Kiel was hit by all things at once: the power of the muscles shifting beneath him, the distance of the ground falling away below, the wind whipping his hair into black ribbons streaming behind him. He no longer had the urge to think of his possible death at the hands and Magic of Flegmorr. He thought of his possible Future, a Future seen from the back of a White Dragon and he was exhilarated.

  Before the sun made its way across a quarter portion of the sky, they had found the next marker and cleared it, and left a well-placed bandage behind. The next marker was more difficult to find. They had to circle and drop lower to the ground. The shadows of the early day had obscured it next to a bush. After clearing the rocks away, Perthorn unraveled the hem on his travel robe and snagged a portion to the prickly thorns of the bush to flutter in the breeze.

  They ate quickly, quelling their hunger pangs and took to the air with renewed energy felt by all. The flight covered many changes in the landscape below them, along with a few passing storms. Nothing they encountered slowed their pace or determination. They raced on.

  Zelspar dipped his wing and pointed. His neck arched over his back as he said, “There! The marker with the branch.”

  They had found their turning point. Zelspar slowed his wings to make a landing on a cushion of thick grass. They make short work of removing the marker. This time, Perthorn changed. He put on a different pair of boots, leaving behind his worn pair. One he buried up to the ankle in the water-soaked grass, and the other he worked the sole loose from and tossed a few feet ahead, with a smile.

  They found a bounty of vines with berries and ate mouthfuls as Zelspar raked in swaths of vegetation. A shaded spot made for a pleasant place to stretch and rest, allowing Zelspar’s wings and muscles to recover from the arduous travel.

  Before long, Zelspar assured his riders he was more than well rested and eager to find the last marker -- the one that would lead them to the portal.

  Again, they flew, watching closely below them. Thick, broad leafed plants grew in abundance with several variations of flowers and fruit. Along their way, they had found and dispersed the markers that flagged their changes in direction until finally they spotted the last marker on a huge chunk of land which dangled its edges into the great waters. It was time to land and finish the journey to the portal on foot.

  Chapter 16

  The humidity weighed heavily on all. Perthorn’s robe stuck to his arms and legs, tripping him up as he walked.

  He grumbled as he fought the clinging material, trying to jerk it over his head. Finally freed from it, he changed into a loose tunic with trousers, and discarded his robe in a heap behind him.

  “You need to stow that reeking mess in your pack. Remember, Flegmorr was requested to return your robe for verification of your death,” Zelspar said.

  “I should make him tote it all the way back. The smell alone may kill him.” Perthorn laughed as he shoved his robe into his pack. “At least the smell will linger on once we destroy the marker.”

  “It should,” Zelspar roared, waving a hand in front of his muzzle. “But in case a downpour removes your stench, another well placed item is necessary. We do not want to lose him this close to our destination.”

  Kiel banded his hair back with a thin leather strip, then said, “Why don’t you toss one of your hair ties down? They have your mark on the beads strung onto the band. It would indicate you passed this way.”

  “Excellent idea my young apprentice. I’m tired of giving my blood to him to sneer over. I can only imagine the pleasure it will give him sniffing at my blood scent,” Perthorn remarked. His face bunched up in disgust.

  Kiel smirked and added a dash of salt to his mental wound. “Oh, he’ll not only sniff it, I bet he will lick the blood from your bandages.”

  Perthorn gagged. “I thank you, Kiel, for adding to my already queasy stomach.” He grimaced, holding on to his belly. “For your disgusting comment you have earned the delightful task of going through my pack to find the hair tie you aforementioned.” His smirk was not missed by Kiel.

  “Ewww…” He pinched his nostrils shut and dug deep within the pack, searching by feel alone. He didn’t want to hazard a look at the things molding away inside the bag. His fingers stumbled across his target, and he yanked it out with a flourish. “Here, you have your personal tie.” He tossed it at Perthorn, then grimaced and wiped his hands against his tunic sleeves.

  “Thank you, fine apprentice,” Perthorn replied, his eyes sparkled at Kiel’s reaction. “You have done so well, I am certain I may trust you for any future needs I have in locating my personal dressing or grooming items.”

  Kiel’s stomach churned loudly. A sound which brought both Perthorn and Zelspar into a sudden fit of laughter.

  “Enough already, can we get on with our journey?” Kiel said, pushing down the acids rising into his throat.

  Zelspar grinned as he spoke. “Wise words my friend, wise words. The plants and trees grow thick from this point on. Move with slow determination. The ground is soft and spongy underneath. Let’s not allow any of us to be swallowed up by the ground.”

  Kiel’s dark eyes widened with surprise. “You think it could?”

  “All possibilities exist,” Zelspar said in all seriousness. “We are in unfamiliar territory and since we do not know this land, caution is advised.”

  Perthorn and Kiel both took a renewed interest in where they were standing. Their eyes scanned ahead.

  Zelspar winked. “Since I carry more weight than you, I will lead the path for you to follow. Remember, if I should hit faulty ground, I have wings to lift me out. Magic may work, but my wings have never failed me in a dangerous situation.”

  His words were met with slow nods from his companions.

  The vegetation grew in dense clumps of an assortment of greens. Thick vines spiraled through foliage and clamored up the trees, dangling exotic flowers which diffused intoxicating perfumes into the air. A feast presented itself around each turn. Oblong yellow fruits, which grew in bunches drooping from thick stems, were scooped up and swallowed by Zelspar bunch after bunch. He plucked a handful to give to Perthorn and Kiel. The sweetness added energy to their strides, making the journey easier on their steps.

  Strange, vibrant birds cawed at their movements. They took flight in plumes of brilliant colors, occasionally dropping a stray feather the length of Kiel’s forearm. Kiel latched onto each he found, tucking them into his banded hair.

  Zelspar looked at Kiel with a slight frown. “If you continue to do that,” he said pointing to the festive adornments, “you will have to continually add the Invisibility Magic to cover the radiant colors. I suggest it would simplify matters to tuck them into your travel pack.” He waited while Kiel sheepishly removed them from his hair.

  They proceeded onward. Zelspar paused, hearing the bubbling sound of water close by. His arms reached out and bent the thick foliage to the side, exposing a wide stream of glistening water. He stepped through and trampled the vegetation down to allow passage for the two behind him. His eyes lit up. It had been a long trip with only the warm water they carried along with them.

  Stooping, Zelspar drug his hand into the cool water and took a taste. It was as refreshing as it was sweet. He sat back and scooped another mouthful up to drink before dropping his whole muzzle into the cool
stream. He was quickly followed by Perthorn and Kiel, who first drank, then began splashing the cool water over their sweat-soaked clothes.

  After satiating themselves, they leaned back to rest in the mottled sunshine peeking through the canopy of trees. A cool breeze stirred next to the gentle flow of the stream, refreshing spirit and body.

  Kiel placed his pack on the ground and rested his head against it, closing his eyes. Shadows danced over his closed eyelids and the music of the stream lulled him to sleep.

  Zelspar saw him resting and nudged Perthorn saying, “Your apprentice has a good idea. We don’t know how much further we need to go to find the portal. Here is a good place to rest for a bit.”

  The magician didn’t hesitate at the suggestion and was soon reclined next to the stream. A slow smile of contentment spread onto his face, causing his mustache to lift.