#
Araki, the Wind dragon, wrapped his claws around the little man who dared to enter Annoon. Araki knew that the man must have been invited by one of the four, most likely either Sigela or Terrada. Through his invisible talons, Araki felt the Drayoom’s power—both that of earth and of fire—and the dragon suddenly understood that the Drayoom was one of the brothers from the prophecy. The little one’s power was great, but it was also raw and unrefined, and more full of potential than anything else.
It seemed odd to Araki that one with so much potential, with the blood of two dragons flowing through his veins, could have lived as long as he had without remembering his true name.
Now that Araki understood who the trespasser was, he wondered if there might be a way to take advantage of the situation. The Wind Dragon could help the little one remember his name and teach him to master the wind in time, if he so desired. If he would only let go of the rock, Araki thought, I could take him away and embrace him as my own. That would stop the prophecy from being fulfilled and would give Araki a powerful new pawn in his dealings with his siblings.
Araki blew again, even harder this time, but the Drayoom refused to let go.
His fortitude was impressive.
With each show of resistance, Araki wanted the little Drayoom a little more. Even as the creature refused to let go, Araki decided to relent and to see how matters played out. After all, no dragon wanted a follower who did not submit himself willingly. The Wind Dragon was sure that there would come a time when the Drayoom would seek him out, if he lived long enough. For now, Araki contented himself with watching as the Drayoom continued to creep up the side of the cliff, ever nearer to its top—ever nearer to one of Sigela’s last remaining realms on the planet.
CHAPTER 49
WITH EACH PASSING minute, Merrick crept another few inches up the sheer cliff face. As he climbed higher, the stone against which he was pressed grew cooler to the touch, and the wind whirled with more and more ferocity. His hands and shins were bleeding as he struggled to keep his body flat against the rock face, sometimes clinging to no more than a pebble to maintain his balance.
His limbs ached, and he grew short of breath. Every time he felt himself slipping, he called on a little more of his magic to right himself. He tried not to think about how much of his internal power he was using during the climb. There was no other choice but to continue on the path he had chosen, even if he had to drain himself completely in the process. He hoped that he would be able to draw from his surroundings more effectively once he learned his creation name, but for now, his own internal magic was the most available source of power he had.
About halfway up the cliff, Merrick came to a flat outcropping of rock that was just big enough to stand on. Thankful for the opportunity to rest, he hoisted himself onto the rock shelf and stood with his back to the wall. The wind whipped his hair cruelly across his face.
Unable to stop his legs from trembling, he locked his knees and let them shake. He caught his breath and looked out across the top of the forest below. From his new vantage point, he could see that the forest was somehow only a narrow strip of trees that surrounded the outskirts of the island, instead of the vast, impenetrable woods it had seemed.
Beyond the ring of trees, the sea stretched out in the distance, illuminated by a pale blue glow that felt like moonlight, even though there was no moon in sight.
As he rested a moment longer, he imagined what it would be like to be as one with the wind, carefree and wild. If he had studied the language of Araki, maybe he could have flown to his destination. Then again, if he had the power of flight, he might instead fly somewhere far away from his task, far from his destiny, and farther still from his impending death at the hands of Eudroch that the Queen’s Seer had foretold.
A small leaf swirled in front of his face. He wondered at the great complexity of which the wind was made—always changing and never still. It was no wonder that weather reporters back home had no hope of ever accurately forecasting the weather.
The thought of predicting the weather made him think of Mona and the life that he had left behind with her. She was probably dead now, as were Cara and Balach, all because of him. Merrick shook his head, clearing his mind. The swirling leaf flew away high above his head, leaving him once again alone as he braced against the cliff.
With miniscule steps, he turned his body around and faced the steep rock face. He placed his hands flat on the mountain and felt his inner magic stir as he started upward.
The rest of the ascent went easier, as the wind thankfully died down to a gentle breeze. Finally, he was able to pay more attention to climbing instead of concentrating so much on not being blown off the rock.
After what seemed like another hour, he arrived at the top of the cliff. He climbed over the last rock and stood on top of the wall.
He let out a long breath and sat down. He pulled one knee up to his chest as he tried to calm his breathing and his heart rate. From where he sat, he could see almost the entire island.
The forest through which he had come surrounded the entire island, as did the ring of stone upon which he now sat. At the center of the island was an enormous volcano at least a dozen times higher than the peak he had just scaled. Between the volcano and where he sat, the land was on fire, forming the final elemental ring. Each of the dragons guarded the island’s core with his or her magic, and Merrick still had the fierce defense of fire to deal with before he could begin his climb to the top of the volcano.
A sudden wave of exhaustion seeped into his bones as the heat from below seared his face. It was hard to make out the details, but the land he would have to traverse looked like a dry, cracked desert with streams of interconnecting lava flowing through it. Steam rose up everywhere, and every so often a geyser of molten earth shot toward the sky, bathing everything nearby in a red haze.
This was the land of his brother, the land of Sigela, the Fire Dragon.
Merrick contemplated his situation. He had come through the ring of water that surrounded the island, and he had made it through the forest of the dead. He had scaled the stone circle and had fought his way through the torrents of wind from the Wind Dragon.
All that was left were the trials of Sigela. Back at the Fire Tribe, he had protected himself from the fire wall that the Queen had thrown up before him. He had believed that, like his brother, he had the blood of Sigela in his veins, and that fire could not, or would not, harm him.
Merrick doubted whether his supposed invulnerability to fire would protect him through the veritable hell that awaited him below, but he stood and stretched his limbs regardless. If both Ohman and his own mother the Queen at one time had made their way to the center of Annoon, where the heart of all the dragons lived, then so could he.
With a deep breath and a slow exhale, he tried to ignore the fire below as he methodically made his way down the rock face. The speed of his descent was born of anxiety and trepidation from within more than it was from gravity and the slope of the stone. As he neared the ground, his mind contemplated the worst. Perhaps Eudroch would face him within the land of fire and never let him reach the center of Annoon at all.
If that happened, he would die here, still a stranger to himself, his complete creation name lost forever. He vowed silently to not let that happen.
#
Through the vast stretch of space, Sigela shivered with anticipation. At last, the Drayoom had arrived. The day was close at hand when Sigela would be released from her bonds, no longer held captive, stretched between the heavens and the center of the world she had once called home. Life would be as it should always have been on the earth, with Sigela ruling as her own father had intended.
Abred would have accepted Sigela as his god above all others if her siblings had not interfered. Because of their meddling, she had been exiled from the very planet she had helped to create. Now at last, the Drayoom from the prophecy was close to making it to the heart of Annoon. All that was left was for h
im to cross the land of fire, and that was one thing over which Sigela, even trapped as she was, still controlled.
She would make sure that the little Drayoom would cross successfully through to the heart of the island. Along the way, however, he would learn to want for the warmth and the passion and desire that only Sigela could provide. With him and his brother, there would finally be a new beginning, not simply a reforming like the foolish Earth Queen believed, but a total rebirth. Soon, Sigela would destroy the planet and remake it in her own image—into a place of passion and desire, where those under her rule would achieve feats the universe had never before witnessed.
Come to me, thought Sigela. Give me life as I once did for you, when you were in your mother’s womb.
CHAPTER 50
MOVING SLOWER with each step, Merrick made his way to the bottom of the rock face. He stood silently, looking out across the burning wasteland of lava streams and eruptions in front of him. It was difficult to see through the fire and smoke, but beyond the blackness, barely visible, was the volcano itself, looming like a dark shadow.
The rock under his feet was hotter now than it had been in the forest, and he was afraid that the rubber in his soles would melt at any moment.
He took a tentative step onto the dry, cracked earth. He then knelt down and briefly touched it with his hand. The ground was like none he had ever encountered—probably dried lava from the volcano, but certainly belonging to Sigela more than Terrada.
Merrick continued walking toward the volcano. In his mind, he told himself again and again that his blood flowed with fire as well as earth, and that the flames could not harm him. His burning feet continually reminded him otherwise.
In this ancient realm of Annoon, he was at the mercy of the dragons.
Looking down, he noticed a small twig on the ground. He bent down and picked it up, smiling. He whispered the name of Motmoran who grew to twice his height in a single month and whose name was shared with the bamboo plant. The twig pulsed and grew into a solid wooden staff equal to his height. He took the imperfect divinium sphere from his pocket and held it to one end of the staff, causing the two to meld with a single word of forming. The staff now emitted a faint but steady glow, piercing the smoke and darkness enough for him to at least see where he was stepping.
Now he was ready.
Using his new staff to steady himself, he made his way across the hot ground. His knees ached, as did his back—constant reminders of his rapidly aging body—but he forced himself to quicken his pace as he weaved through the raging flames.
Each time a column of lava burst forth from the scorched ground, he slowed down just a little. If he made a mistake, there would be no Cara, Ohman, or even Balach to save him. He was on his own, and it was his turn to save the day.
A thin fissure opened suddenly in front of him as he was about to place his left foot down on the ground. With a thunderous boom, the fissure branched out and opened into a series of spidery lava veins. Some were only a few inches wide, while others looked to be farther across than he could jump, even with a running start.
He stood on the largest piece of unbroken land that still existed. With the lava below revealed, the heat soon became unbearable. He stripped off his shirt and tied it around his head to soak up the sweat from his brow that stung his eyes.
He decided to jump to a piece of land about two feet in diameter that was just in front of him. Taking a deep breath, he deftly crossed over a narrow lava stream and landed on the small piece of ground.
As soon as his full weight was on it, the hardened magma beneath him started to sink into the lava below. He hurriedly jumped to the next closest piece of land. Even as he was in mid-air, he prepared for that to sink as well. The ground on which he stepped was sturdy, but because he hadn’t taken enough care with his jump, he almost fell and had to balance himself by holding his staff horizontally across his body like a tightrope walker would do.
Behind him, the piece of land, now relieved of his extra weight, buoyed to the surface again. He looked around for his next landing. This time, before leaping, he leaned forward and poked the rock with his staff. When he did so, it teetered unsteadily. He chided himself for not thinking earlier of using his staff in this way. He tested a few more areas until he found a solid section of land, and then he jumped.
He continued on like this, moving from one chunk of solid rock to another, until he had to stop to rest even though it was against his better judgment to do so. Before he could even take a single deep breath, the ground beneath him began to shake, almost throwing him into the surrounding lava flow. There was no time to check for solid land with his staff as the ground on which he stood began to shift and move with ever greater force. Picking out a rock that he thought looked sturdy enough, he jumped to it with all of his might.
Even as he looked down at his feet, he knew that he had not leapt far enough, and that he would fall short of his target by almost an entire inch. He unsuccessfully tried to readjust his body in mid-air, to give him the extra reach he needed to make his landing.
He closed his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable scalding of the lava flow, as the side of his face landed hard on solid ground. He got to his knees, shaking his head, trying to clear his vision enough to see what had happened. The entire landscape around him had changed, and he now stood in the middle of a land bridge that led all the way to the foot of the volcano. The lava flows and rivulets had been replaced with what looked to be a moat that surrounded the volcano. Halfway between where he stood and the foot of the fiery mountain, Merrick could see someone—a woman, wearing nothing at all.
He moved quietly but quickly toward her, and as he grew nearer, he recognized who it was.
It was Cara.
She stood waiting for him, and even though he could not contain his joyous feeling at seeing her, he knew by now to not always trust what his eyes beheld.
As he moved closer, he was taken in by the sight of her. Her blonde hair was slightly longer than the last time he had seen her, and her body, smooth and tan, shimmered red from the light of the molten lava beneath the bridge.
Merrick stopped just a few feet in front of her and stared. She was all that he had imagined her to be. Perfect skin, perfect body, and all the curves and intersections that made up his physical ideal of a woman.
Barely aware of anything other than her naked form, he noticed that there was a hole in the ground in front of her about three feet in diameter. When he looked closer, he saw that it was a well that was made from the same cooled lava as the bridge on which they stood.
“Is that really you?” he asked.
He heard a voice, but it was not Cara who answered. The voice was that of crackling fire and piercing lightning.
“Merrick, my son. I have waited so long for you to come. As a reward, I give you what your heart desires. Her body is yours to do with as you like…if you will only make me whole again.”
Merrick had never heard the voice before, at least not that he could remember, but he was sure that it belonged to none other than the Fire Dragon herself. He stood frozen with fear as flames rose out of the well, dancing in time with the syllables of Sigela’s voice. This was the first time he had actually heard a dragon speak, and impact on his mind and body made the experience both wondrous and frightful beyond his imagining.
“This isn’t Cara,” he whispered. “She’s just an illusion. A lie, just like the rest of my life.”
“She is flesh and blood,” Sigela answered. “Touch her for yourself. Feel how real she is.”
“I didn’t come here for this.”
“Then, why are you here?” Sigela asked.
“I seek the rest of my creation name so that I can stop my brother, Eudroch, from…from making you whole again.”
The flames from the well shot out twice as high as his head.
“You still do not understand. You believe that your destiny is to learn who you are—to remember the name that my sister and I whispered to yo
u in your mother’s womb—and to then defeat the evil Eudroch and stop the evil dragon from destroying this beautiful world. Do you really believe in such absolutes? Let me tell you, boy. Eudroch is not evil. I am not evil. And the world…the world could be much more beautiful than it is. And if you believe that by stopping Eudroch you will deter me, a dragon born, then you are a fool.”
“I know that what I’m doing is the right thing to do,” Merrick said, trying to sound brave.
“Do you feel that heat inside your chest and in your loins. That is desire. It can make you jump across a stream of molten lava or it can make you give your life without a second thought. Desire is what makes you achieve—what drives your kind to approach greatness despite your inferior minds and the fragile shells that you call your bodies.
“You think that you are fighting and struggling to save the world, but if you succeed, you will relegate this planet to a far worse fate than I would offer upon my return. I am the only reason your people ever truly lived in the first place. I gave you fire. I gave you ambition. Why would I want to destroy that which I created? You poor, misguided child—by fighting me, you are setting yourself against this world’s savior, not its destroyer.”
Cara started walking toward Merrick, and he backed up a few steps.
“I don’t want…that. It’s just some walking piece of flesh. It’s not Cara,” Merrick said.
“She is as much Cara as the one of whom you speak. What are any of you other than animated flesh?”
“Merrick, it is me,” the naked woman said, in Cara’s voice. “I came here because I realized that my father was wrong about Sigela and Eudroch. Sigela has shown me the world she wants to create…the one she wants to give to all of us. A paradise full of creation and progress! Think of the wonders we can accomplish with Sigela in our hearts, driving us to greatness. Think of what we can do…together. You and me, Merrick.”
The Conservation of Magic Page 40