The Simoqin Prophecies
Page 41
‘And I’m not cut out to be a king,’ said Kirin.
Those who are are usually bad at it.
But could he live with the knowledge that he could have stopped the war?
Actually, he could. Very easily. He could convince myself it wasn’t his fault. He was clever enough to do that.
And he was not above temptation, not at all…so much power. He would be lying to myself if he said it didn’t tempt him. But would he be able to handle it?
‘What if I lose control? What if I go mad with power, as I suspect you did?’
You could set a lot of things right. You could stop the war, if that is what you want. You could stop asur persecution.
Yes. There was a lot of injustice in the world and he could make things better.
‘I could also set a lot of things wrong. Will I know where to stop?’
It really is up to you, isn’t it?
So he belonged to this world after all. Well, part of him did, anyway. The ravian world, wherever it was, was closed to him now.
This means he’d probably see Maya again. What would she say? What would everyone say?
They’d all think he was evil. Was anyone evil, really? Was his father evil?
Why? Because of his rakshas blood? What would the spellbinders say when he told them the blood of rakshases flowed through their veins too?
It was going to be fun.
No. Walking away was the right thing to do. He would still be himself. Besides, he would have given up the chance to be the most powerful ruler in the world. Self-sacrifice and rejection of greed and temptation were what made a hero a hero.
That settled it.
He looked into his father’s eyes.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said.
I was hoping you would.
‘Well, the other choice would have been too heroic.’
And you aren’t a hero, are you. Neither was I.
He smiled at the rakshas. ‘Yes, I’ll do it.’
Of course, you do realize you’re going to be extremely unpopular in certain parts of the world. I was not very nice to a lot of people.
‘But tell me, if you could have come back yourself now, would you have tried to conquer the world?’
I’ve thought about that often, and I don’t think I would have. After all, the ravians are gone, and I don’t feel the need for revenge. I was very bloodthirsty before, but your mother changed that to a large extent. I might not have started another war. But then again, I might have. Old habits die hard.
‘What happens now?’
Now I tell you I think you made the right decision. And that you’ve made me very happy. Now I can depart knowing that my son knows the truth, that I have been able to give my son a great deal of power and the freedom to decide what he wants to do with the rest of his life.
‘I’m touched,’ Kirin smiled.
I must be getting old. I was never this sentimental before. But I can’t get any older, can I? I’m dead.
Be that as it may, son, I still have one more gift to give you. Put on the Gauntlet.
‘I don’t want to control the dragons. Besides, the last time I put the Gauntlet on I almost lost my mind.’
You have already woken the dragons. You did that on the mountain. It is too late to turn back now. I know the feeling you speak of – the first time I put on the Gauntlet it happened to me too. The power of the dragons goes straight to your head. But it happens only once.
Kirin picked up the Gauntlet and put it on slowly. Nothing happened.
Then the earth trembled and shook, and the stone slabs that connected the tops of the rings of menhirs exploded, into thousands of tiny fragments. It seemed to Kirin that the stones were burning.
Then the ground near the Altar Stone split apart, and the head of a dragon burst out into the night.
It was a Xi’en serpent-dragon, the most beautiful and terrible creature Kirin had ever seen. Her smooth scales were blacker than the night, her body was shining and incredibly long, her eyes were wise and shining white. Her sleek, sinuous body slid out of the earth, and she looked at Danh-Gem with fond eyes. She wound herself around the ring of menhirs, and throwing her head upwards, let a stream of white fire up into the sky.
My last gift to you, son, said Danh-Gem, is merely an introduction. Meet the Queen of Dragons, Qianzai, Mother of Darkness. The Gauntlet does not control her – no power on earth can tame her or enslave her. But she was my friend, not because I forced her to be, but because she chose to be. And years ago, we decided that if my great plan succeeded she would be your guide after my departure. It is good to see you, Qianzai.
‘Your son looks like you,’ said Qianzai, her beautiful eyes meeting Kirin’s. ‘You need not worry about his safety, my friend. Go in peace.’
And Kirin smiled at her, and heard more dragon-voices in his head, for he was still wearing the Gauntlet.
We are coming, master, they said.
Kirin did not take off the Gauntlet this time. He knew he was ready.
It is time for me to go, son, said Danh-Gem. My work is done, and my labours are at an end. I cannot expect you to mourn for me, and I have no parting words of fatherly wisdom to give you. The power is in your hands now, use it as you will. And when the time comes, you will unite the rakshases, I can feel it. Your story has reached a turning point – mine, though, is over. And I am glad to say it had a happy ending.
And Danh-Gem smiled at Kirin, turned around and disappeared.
There were creaking, groaning noises and the Brotherhood of Renewal awoke.
‘What happened?’ asked Omar. Then he saw Qianzai and fell silent.
‘Why are you wearing the Gauntlet, Karisman?’ asked Bjorkun.
They looked at Kirin again and saw for the first time the power that lay within him.
‘Danh-Gem has returned!’ shouted Aciram. ‘I knew it all along, master! I knew you were but testing us! Look at him, and rejoice, brothers! Danh-Gem is reborn!’
But Kirin shook his head and Aciram fell silent. He looked at each one of them in turn.
He smiled suddenly, beginning to enjoy himself.
Dark Lord? Well, he was a lord now, and he had always been dark…
And then, though his lips did not move, they heard his voice in their heads.
I am Kirin son of Danh-Gem, he said, and they looked at him, and awe and terror were in their eyes. Do not bother to kneel. We have work to do.
He looked at them, and saw the fear they felt.
Actually, no. Kneel.
Epilogue
It was almost dawn when the Silver Dagger walked into the Fragrant Underbelly.
He heaved an eloquent sigh. Of course, they say every day has twenty-four hours, but that couldn’t be true. Some days were definitely longer than others.
The day that had just begun was going to be one of those long days too. The people of Kol would have to be told that Danh-Gem had woken, and that they had a new Hero.
And then he would set off on his new mission.
He was back.
It was annoying that no one in the Silver Phalanx would even be surprised. They’d told him he’d never be able to lead the quiet life. And they were right, which was annoying.
He looked at the little piece of paper in his hand. There were a few names on it. Big names. Soon the same names would be on tombstones.
So I can’t do magic. That doesn’t really matter. I’m still the best there is. And my decision to come out of retirement has nothing to do with loyalty or patriotism. It’s simply that the Civilian offered me double pay. That’s a lot of money.
He had just met the Civilian, and heard the news. The dragons were awake, and Danh-Gem had probably returned.
And so had the Dagger. The Silver Phalanx would not need a new leader after all.
Tonight is an important night for Kol. An important night for Asvin, too – tomorrow his life will change. I hope he survives it all. Nice boy.
I wonder where Kirin is. He obviousl
y hasn’t killed Danh-Gem. He’s probably dead. I mustn’t jump to conclusions, though. Time will tell.
He looked around, and smiled and waved at a few people
If they knew who I really was they would probably die. In fact, they would definitely die, I would probably have to kill them myself.
He looked at the pretty Elakish crooner, and she blushed. Life was very good sometimes…
He walked up to the bar and sat on a high stool, swinging his legs about. He smiled his most dangerous smile at a few pretty women, and watched with satisfaction as they reacted strongly. They always did.
Triog ambled up to him. ‘Drink?’ asked Middlog.
‘The usual,’ said the Dagger.
‘Well-shaken Dragonjuice?’
‘Stirred, not shaken,’ said Amloki the khudran.
* * *
The GameWorld Trilogy
The Simoqin Prophecies
The Manticore’s Secret
The Unwaba Revelations