Immortal Genesis

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Immortal Genesis Page 10

by Kevin D. Blackmon


  Both Yndra’s laughed, and the one pouring the mugs brought two over for Lorena. “This is Ashwood Ale, the stoutest ale in the entire world.”

  Lorena wasted no time in taking a swallow. She turned her head to the side and blew. “Now that’s good ale.” She then sat one of the mugs on the table behind us and continued drinking.

  The dark women poured themselves a mug and sat down. “Ambrosius was a brilliant sorcerer,” one of them began. “I wish he were here now; I could really use his help,” she added sadly.

  “Pop would never help you!” I fired at her.

  The women laughed. “And yet, he has,” one said, motioning to the other and to the obsidian egg.

  “The great dragon clans were summoned by Grimlash,” the other began. “They were asked to assemble at the newly constructed palace where he would lay out his plan to immediately eradicate a large percentage of the world’s population. Magnus the Red Dragon Lord of Ashwood killed him but ultimately fell at the hands of Elsbareth the White. She took over as head of the council and relayed the terrible news to us when the clans arrived. The council’s plan of conquest was delayed, and I was ordered to replace Magnus here. No one knew about the immense trove of knowledge left behind by your father…”

  “You call him Pop,” Lorena interrupted, clearly drunk as she reached the bottom of her second mug.

  One of the women filled another mug, but when she brought it to Lorena, the drunken captain began to fall out of her chair. While still holding the mug, Yndra moved her tail around to stop Lorena from falling.

  “I’m okay. I’m okay,” Lorena said loudly. “I can drink more than two.”

  I slid my chair closer, and put my arm around her to hold her up.

  “Oh, look at you,” she said with glassy eyes. “Looking to get lucky with us girls tonight, are ya? We may let you watch.” She leaned her head on my shoulder and went quiet.

  I pushed the blonde tresses out of her face and wiped the dribble of ale from her lip. “It seems she finally found a drink that’s stronger than her.” I suddenly saw the flesh of her face wither and fall away, so I shut my eyes. I couldn’t sit there while she appeared to decompose on me. I carefully stood up, so she could lay across my chair.

  “You see it don’t you?” Yndra asked excitedly. “It’s in your eyes.”

  I looked at her, but both women looked as devilishly beautiful as before while Lorena appeared as a rotting corpse. Astonished, I asked, “How is it that you look alive?”

  “A transmutation spell reconstructs the body to match the perfect vision one has of oneself, which conceals their true form to all those around them, even you,” she explained.

  “And how is it you know what I see?”

  “Ambrosius wrote that he and all of his copies had the extrasensory perception which, according to his notes, is a glimpse of a mere fraction of the future.”

  I walked over to the obsidian egg with my arms crossed. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve seen people as if they were decomposing. It only lasts a moment, and sometimes I’ll go a week or longer without it happening.”

  “You’re seeing their mortality, their eventual death.”

  I looked back at Lorena, but the vision had already passed. She looked as beautiful as she always did. “But I never see myself this way. Why?”

  Both women were fixed in the same pose as they thought. They sat with legs crossed, touching their chin before one finally spoke. “Perhaps this view only works on others and not yourself.”

  “Or perhaps you will live forever,” the other suggested with raised eyebrows.

  “Ha! If Pop couldn’t live forever, certainly I wouldn’t.” Then I remembered what I was talking to and that I shouldn’t become too comfortable around her. “Who have you told of my pop’s experiments? Who else is growing copies of themselves? Answer me, serpent!”

  She remained calm as she answered. “No one else knows. I’ve kept all of this a secret.”

  Confused, I asked, “Why? Why wouldn’t you report it to your council?”

  “Your father . . . I mean, Pop,” she quickly corrected herself, “was regarded by many as being a great leader. He helped maintain balance in the world during a time when the dragons faced extinction. Peace is a rare quality among dragons. And after spending years deciphering and organizing his notes, I understand why. He was not a dragon at all.”

  The other dark woman stood from her chair to stand next to me by the obsidian egg. “I have a theory that your pop created the legendary dragon known as Shadowrath.”

  “Preposterous!” I spat.

  Still looking down into the egg at the Black Dragon growing within, she said, “Think about it. There had never been another like him before his arrival nor after his demise.”

  “Why would Pop create such a terrible beast?” I asked, refusing to believe what I was hearing.

  “The phoenixes, who we believe brought life to this planet, left to seed other worlds, leaving only one, Arethil. She remained to help life flourish. Even when dragons came to the surface, Arethil only wanted peace between the many races that inhabited this world. To the warmongering dragons, peace was not an option, and the surface dwellers were caught up in the battle for supremacy.” Yndra turned to face me. “I believe Ambrosius created a monster that even the dragons feared, not to destroy what the phoenixes worked so hard to create, but to bring balance to it.”

  I stared into her black and red reptilian eyes as her words brought clarity to my father’s past.

  “It had become clear to your pop that the dragons would devastate the earth. Something drastic needed to be done before all was lost, and so he created the most terrible serpent this world has ever seen and released it upon the world to reduce the dragon population.”

  The other Yndra walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Ambros, without your pop here to help us, we now look to you.”

  Concerned by what I believed her to be saying, I asked, “You don’t mean to bring Shadowrath back into this world? I will not!”

  “No,” she answered. “I mean to kill my kind.”

  “What?” My thoughts came to a screeching halt. “Then why are you making copies of yourself?”

  “Because I cannot do this alone,” she answered sadly. “And I definitely cannot trust my kin,” she added.

  “I suppose not,” I agreed with her.

  “I believe in the work your father was doing. This world cannot sustain us all. You were created to continue his work, of that I’m sure. And I believe Magnus did exactly what he was meant to: remove Grimlash from power. Without his diabolical mind to lead them, the council was severely weakened. And three days ago, I received news that his successor, Elsbareth the White, had been killed and that Assim the Yellow has stepped up to lead.”

  “Did he kill her to take the throne?”

  Shaking her head, she answered, “No. I was told that a plague spread among the elves and infected a dragon. While trying to kill them, Elsbareth was bitten. She began showing signs of the infection, so the other dragons present had no choice but to kill her.”

  That happened while I was there. Kronyx was the infected dragon who bit Elsbareth, I thought to myself.

  Both women took hold of my hands, drawing me from my thoughts. “We desperately need your help, Ambros.”

  Looking around, I told her, “It appears you have everything under control to me.”

  “The thing about dragons is we have exceptional hearing. I can hear everything that goes on in this city. I know Torvin told you about the child vampire that attacked him. What he didn’t tell you is that Takarha rose from her death. Fearing she would be killed, she fled Ashwood. But news has reached my ears that a demon resides in a town not far to the east, and the people there are being transformed into demons! We can’t let this get out of control.”

  “Why haven’t you already paid this little town a visit?”

  Shaking her head, “Foolishly, I paid it no mind until I heard what happen
ed at the palace.”

  “What is it that you plan to do, now?”

  “I know you have spent your life studying the undead. I would like you to destroy the infected, so it spreads no further and bring Takarha here, unhurt. Bring her home.”

  I laughed. “And what do think you can do for her?”

  With a confident smile, she answered, “I believe that you and I together can cure her.”

  I said nothing while I thought of what I could learn from this endeavor. Unlike a zombie, who loses connection to its memories because their blood no longer flows, a vampire’s blood keeps the mind active and heals the body of even the gravest wounds. They both are considered undead, trapped between life and death, but a vampire is closer to the living than they are to the dead. If it is possible to bring Jinxie back to life, perhaps curing Takarha of vampirism will lead me in the right direction. I looked at Yndra and nodded that I will try to bring Takarha back.

  “Excellent. The sooner you get started, the better.”

  I started to wake Lorena when I turned back to the two women. “Before I go, there’s something you may be able to help me with.” I pulled the pouch of ashes from my belt and handed it to them. “This is all I have left of Jinxie of Lylandria, my mate.”

  An expression of sincere sadness befell the two women, and one carefully took the pouch from me with both hands. She took a pinch of the ashes to examine closer. “To bring one back from ashes would be quite a feat indeed, but I will do some experiments while you’re gone. Perhaps I will know if it can be done before you return.”

  “Thank you.”

  I looked at Lorena who was still sleeping across the chairs.

  “She’ll be all right here. Don’t worry about her.”

  “That’s just it,” I told her while gently rubbing Lorena’s cheek. “I will worry about her. At least, if she’s with me, I can keep an eye on her.”

  Lorena’s eyes opened halfway. “Why, hello handsome,” she said groggily. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

  I clearly liked being called handsome. “Come on, Captain. It’s time to go. Do you feel up to walking?”

  I helped her stand, but she felt no ill effects from the ale she drank earlier. She straightened her shirt before pulling a brush from her satchel to fix her hair.

  “Be careful,” both of the dragon ladies told us before we left.

  Downstairs, Lorena put her hat on, and we stepped out of the tower. “So, where are we headed?” she asked, wrapping her arm around mine.

  “Well, I thought we’d head over to see the Master Enchanter, so you can choose a weapon.”

  She squealed with excitement and squeezed me tightly, causing me to laugh.

  As we walked through the dimly-lit city, I told her about the Draconian Wars that drove my people here and how we began mining volcanic glass to make weapons.

  “But the wars are over. Why doesn’t your people explore the world and build new cities?” she asked.

  “When every couple has only two children, the population of their people never grows,” I explained. “The Dark Elves fight to hold onto the surrounding forests, but they don’t try to expand their borders; they have all the land they need to sustain themselves.”

  “Perhaps one day I will settle down with a good man . . . or three,” she added with raised eyebrows, “live on a nice, secluded island, and have five or six children.”

  “Five or six!”

  “But not today,” she laughed.

  At the edge of the city, carved from the very wall of the dormant volcano, were three temples. A large vein of blue obsidian ran down from above the center temple and divided around it to look like a frozen waterfall. The Dark Elves’ Master Enchanter, Desynger, lived in the temple on the right. A colorful, stone walkway led upstairs between tall columns. We stopped for a moment, so she could marvel at the black stone dwelling.

  “Wow!” Lorena whispered.

  “These were the first homes built when my people arrived eons ago.”

  We stepped inside to a long room with many stone tables and wooden chairs. Obsidian weapons of all makes and colors decorated the walls. I followed Lorena around the room to admire the many swords, daggers, spears, staves, axes, and even bows and arrows.

  Taking a red sword with a finely carved bone handle from its hanger, she said, “Hold out your arm; I want to see what it does.”

  “HA! You’re crazy!” I told her. “Even if it has no enchantment, it will still sever my arm!”

  She laughed and began swinging the sword around her wildly, pretending she didn’t know how to wield it. “I know what it does! I know what it does!” she announced, laughing hysterically. “It makes you crazy!”

  “You were already crazy before you picked it up,” I chuckled, backing away from her.

  “Ambros, is that you?” a familiar voice asked from behind me, and Lorena stopped swinging the sword. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

  I turned to see Desynger standing in the room, and I bowed to him.

  “By Arethil’s fire! You look just like him.” With a glimmer of happiness in his eyes, he made his way over to us with the help of a cane and placed a feeble hand on my shoulder. Looking me over, he said, “You look exactly like Ambrosius when I took his class on enchanting bones.”

  “I didn’t know he taught a class.”

  “Oh yes, he taught for many years before creating you,” he said, pulling a chair out to sit in. The old master wore animal furs like the other elves of Ashwood, but he also wore a strange belt that looked like a chain with obsidian stones set into it. I imagined each stone was enchanted with a different power.

  “You’re right,” he answered suddenly with a grin. Pointing to a blue stone on the belt, he said, “This one allows me to read the thoughts of those around me.”

  “You probably shouldn’t read her thoughts,” I warned with a laugh, pointing at Lorena.

  “And why not?” she asked, already knowing what I was getting at. “There’s nothing wrong with my thoughts.”

  Desynger chuckled and told us, “I already know them. You’re curious what that sword in your hands can do. Well, it causes blood to violently explode. The more blood it comes into contact with, the bigger the explosions.”

  Both Lorena and I cringed at the thought before she announced, “I WANT IT!”

  Desynger and I both laughed at her excitement, and I told her, “If that’s the one you want, it’s yours unless Master Desynger says no.”

  She looked at him, and he gave a simple nod that she could have the slender, red obsidian sword.

  “YES! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she said to the old Dark Elf, quickly sheathing the sword and strapping it to her belt.

  I sat down to listen to the aging master while Lorena continued looking around the room.

  Touching the stones on his belt, Desynger said to me, “Ambrosius never liked using enchanted items to gain power. He preferred having the power himself, but he never did figure out how to create life without using the egg. When I was a young boy, my father told me that Ambrosius created himself a new body before his wore out. I didn’t understand why anyone would want to continue living life over and over until I myself grew old and feeble. I don’t want to die,” he confessed. “I’d rather be your age again, gallivantin’ around with some buxom blonde.” He then pointed to the captain who was still admiring the many weapons that hung around the room.

  I burst into laughter, shocked by what I just heard the Master Enchanter say.

  Lorena spun around and pointed to me. “See? You should listen to your elders. You should enjoy what you have while you have it.”

  “Even at 970 years old, I feel my life was a mere flash of sunlight in the darkness of this dreadful cave.”

  “So you don’t look forward to going to the Sun?”

  “What good am I to our people there?” he questioned. “From childhood, we’re fed the story of the great phoenixes and the kingdom of the Sun where we’ll
all go some day. By not fearing death, we fail to conquer life’s greatest adversary. Now, I have too few sunrises left to make a difference.”

  Remembering my mission, I stood up quickly. “Oh, speaking of sunrise, we have to get going!”

  “You young people are always in a hurry.” Desynger positioned his cane and began to stand. Lorena stepped over to help him. “Thank you, my dear.” Looking back at me, he said, “Just make sure you use your time wisely, young one.”

  The old elf saw us to the door and followed us out to the stone steps. “You know, Ambrosius attempted to transport himself though time, but he found that the very process of traveling creates an alternate universe.”

  “Say that again,” I asked of him, unsure if I heard correctly.

  “Look at it from another perspective. Let’s say you decide that you would rather not exist at all, so you go back in time and smash your egg while baby Ambros is still developing inside. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

  With that analogy, it became clear. “Pop couldn’t accomplish his goal by jumping through time.”

  Snapping his fingers, he pointed at me, signaling that I was correct. “You got it. And without an anchor to this world, you may never find your way home. I lost my son to the gateway of time.”

  “Stenwick is gone? I’m sorry to hear that. He was a good elf. We were never close growing up, but then again, I was never really close to anyone here. What happened?”

  “He believed he could convince the ancient elves to stand together against the Dragon race instead of being tempted by them to separate during the Great Winter.”

  “Was that my father’s plan?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, Desynger answered, “I don’t know. Much like you, he remained distant.”

  “And what am I supposed to do?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know that either.”

  I pointed at his belt. “Don’t you have some sort of a stone that can help?”

  “On life’s great journey, we must all make our own path.”

  I nodded and told him goodbye. Lorena kissed his cheek and thanked him again for the sword. As we walked across the colorful obsidian stones to leave, Master Desynger said loudly to me, “I know you lack faith in yourself, but I still have faith in you, young Ambrosius. You will fulfill your father’s plan, whatever it may be, I am sure of this.”

 

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