Victor Deus (Heritage of the Blood Book 1)

by Brent Lee Markee

  “You know you look just like him. Those few of us that are still around to remember him all agree that you are like him too, and I think that he would be proud of you Dalton.” The woman who spoke appeared to be in her middle years, and her hair was still as red as it had ever been. She was proud of that fact. Alexander had always said he loved her hair, he said he loved everything about her, but she knew that he had been especially fond of her hair. She was still not used to aging as rapidly as she was now, dragons could live seemingly forever if circumstances allowed, and though she had been in human form for seven hundred and fifty years she still felt the effects of aging. That had been the exchange, fertility and the ability to reproduce with the other species without leaving too much of an outward mark of their Draconic heritage, in exchange for their near immortality. If she or any of the others had the choice to make again, she knew they wouldn't have changed a thing. She had fifty-seven glorious years with a man that she truly loved, and though she had to watch him age and die he had given her ten lovely children over those years. Six girls and four boys, and each of those had married others, had children and died. There had been losses over the years, but her family was still large, and most of them were high in the ranks of the military and amongst the Mages.

  The council of nine, which was now only seven, still met regularly, and though their numbers had been reduced, they still held fast. It was no secret any longer that the people who had come to Terroval seven hundred and fifty years ago were not normal. Only select members of the families knew the truth. She could feel the approaching darkness, and knew that the time of change was once again upon the people of South Harbor. The dragons had always held the position of watchers over the world, and they still fulfilled that role to the best of their ability, even thought it was much more difficult now. Five generations ago one of her grandchildren married a noble by the name of Theromvore, and since then, that had been the dominant branch of the family. In respect to the branch of the family that was much smaller, but still carried the name Dalton, Tyrdra had asked her favorite granddaughter to name her next after their progenitor. Whether it was fate, luck, or a cruel sense of humor however, Dalton Alexander Theromvore was the spitting image of his namesake, and that, if nothing else gave her hope for the Protectorate's future.

  “The approaching darkness is not a natural cycle of events. Something is guiding these events, and they are beyond even our sight. The council and those remaining members of the newcomers will face this battle in full. Remember, if any survive you are not to tell your children of their heritage, if there are some that are strong enough in the blood to remember anyway, that cannot be helped, and they should remember enough to keep it to themselves. There are many different people in South Harbor now, and the Giants that have joined us will help you with the rebuilding, if it's even possible. When the time comes, you must lead those who will follow down into the caverns, and not come out for three years. There is fresh water flowing through the lower tunnels, and in case that gets contaminated we have put the large cistern down there that should be able to last for some time. Have the livestock been moved down yet?”

  The young man nodded, and then frowned at the woman that he respected more than anyone else in the world. She had been his mother when his had died after his birth, she had been his teacher who had prepared him for what he would face in the world, and she had instilled him with the belief in the defense of himself, and those under his command, or in need. In short, she was the most remarkable person he had ever met, and the loss of her would be a detriment to them all. “I still don't understand why you cannot come with us. The people will need a guiding hand, and we cannot afford to lose you.”

  “Dalton, I have taught you all that I know, and you are as good a leader if not better than even my husband was. If anyone can guide our people through this disaster, it will be you and our family. You must promise me one thing though, you must not change the face of the Protectorate, the branches must remain separate, or there will be no chance of success in the future.” She placed her hand on his face, and kissed him on the forehead. “You know what must be done. I can tell you this much, and no more.”

  The man nodded again, and kissed the hand of his mentor and kissed the forehead of his grandmother. “I know there is more to this than you can tell me, and I understand the wisdom of the council, but why must I keep our heritage from our children?”

  “There will come a time, many generations from now, when the blood of our line will mingle seamlessly with the blood of another. A child born from such a union could be of immense importance, and not only to our world. History teaches us that a strong heritage and self identity allows a civilization to stay strong for a time, and yet if they are too strongly rooted in their own history and importance they will begin to atrophy as the world around them moves on without them. We believe that once the Protectorate is at a place that it is on equal or greater footing than the Dracair that there will be a divide amongst the various factions of the Protectorate, and many will leave to create their own cities. Some will fail, but those that succeed will become stronger for it. If that separation does not occur, we believe it will take eons to be born, and by then it will be too late for our world to save itself. Those of us that went through the transformation are the only ones capable of striking a blow that will give our world the best possible odds for this to occur.”

  “It shall be done as you have asked.” The young man said before he turned, and walked out of the room holding the image he knew would be the last time he would ever see his grandmother. Goodbye grandmother, goodbye Tyrdra.

  *****

  The Lion's Heart Tavern

  “Of course we may never know what exactly drove those people to the caves underneath the city that day. Those of us that have enough wits believe that the newcomers truly were Dragonkind, and that they had been gifted with a foretelling. I think they realized that it was the only way to keep the men and women of the Protectorate alive, and maybe a bit of their own blood with it. Whatever the case may be, it was the only thing that saved some two hundred thousand of the near to one million of the people that lived in the town of South Harbor.”

  “The storms that raged across the face of Terrazil were only shadows of the tempest that raged on the continent of Terroval; it quickly became obvious to the rest of the world where the storms were emanating from. A messenger came to all of the lords of the land telling them to keep those of their people that they could in a safe place and wait until the storms had abated. The note also said that the problem in the land of Terroval was being taken care of.” The old man walked back to the bar to put down his empty mug before returning to the center of the room, he had clearly enthralled all of the room now, and he was not going to let them go until he was finished.

  “No one knows for sure what happened in the year that the storms raged, but rumors came out of Terroval some years later that there had been a strategic strike against the forces of darkness that had gripped the land. It has been said that newcomers themselves led the charge against the forces that wished the Protectorate's Destruction. Of course that would mean that some of them were upwards of eight hundred years old at the time.” No one in the room laughed at that, it seemed to them after hearing this story that it might have been the newcomers leading the charge. Good, it is time that the people of these lands come to realize the truth of things. “The year of devastation put the civilized world back a thousand years, most of the things that had been built were lost, and quite a few of the people that knew the secrets of metallurgy and wizardry were lost in the storms.”

  “The storms abated in the third month of the year that would be known as the Rebirth. The peoples of the civilized world were able to come together to re-create their kingdoms. It was a slow and tedious process, but order asserted itself after a few hundred years, and civilization was brought back from the ashes of destruction.”

  “The land of Terroval was a completely different story however. D
alton Theromvore had kept his people below ground for three years, though no one fully understood why he waited so long. There were times where the earth would shake, and the people were sure that the land above them would collapse upon them. There were relatively few losses however, and the people respected Dalton enough to listen to his advice.”

  *****

  Year 3 AGD

  Ruins of South harbor

  “How could this have happened Leodric?”

  “I am not certain my Lord, it could be that the continent shifted, or that the poles became colder and absorbed more moisture and the level of the ocean dropped. It could be a mixture of both. It is an amazing phenomenon though my lord.”

  “Please don't call me lord, I work for a living.” Dalton said while studying the landscape in front of him.

  “Yes of course not my lord.” Leodric said, Dalton grimaced.

  “Well, the thing of it is, it seems to me, that this is a perfect military structure for rebuilding. I guess I don't need to know how it happened, just what we can do with it. A three hundred foot cliff where there used to be a beach, and Two walls of solid rock jutting into the sea which are at least a hundred feet tall, creating a near half circle with a break in the middle large enough for any ship to pass through…” Dalton Shrugged. “… it seems a bit convenient to me.”

  “Yes my lord, it does seem rather odd, but I have always found it wise not to question a gift from the gods. Perhaps it is Cypheria, goddess of protection, that is shielding us in her arms. Whatever the cause m'lord you are correct about it being a highly defensible position. If I am correct that water going into the sea from the wall down there is the same water that has sustained us these last few years. If that is the case m'lord we should be able to create pathways up from the beach into the city.”

  “Brilliant Leodric, I was just trying to figure out how to get goods in, but that will work! We can get a few of the Giants and Dwarves to punch a few holes in the wall to create paths, and we can build warehouses and other buildings in the stretch of land below, assuming they aren't underwater at parts of the year.”

  Leodric had brightened through the ideas of his lord, and only slightly grimaced at the last part. “Yes of course we will have to make sure of that before any real building below can occur, but that must come last anyway, because we have an entire city to rebuild first.” Both men turned around to survey the area that used to hold the city of South Harbor.

  “I cannot believe this level of devastation, if you didn't know that a city had been here, it would be hard to convince anyone that that those pile of rocks were where the palace had stood, and the worn down half circle of rocks was once the great wall that no enemy had yet penetrated.” Dalton wanted to weep for the loss of so many of his people, for surely those that had not come below had perished, and he did not expect to hear from any of the newcomers again. Shielding his eyes and pointing off to the horizon the asked “are those mountains?”

  Squinting to see through the glaring sun Leodric nodded to Dalton's assessment. “It seems that our whole world has changed again m'lord and all we can do is to adjust.”

  It was Dalton's turn to nod, before he looked through his soldiers, who were milling about amongst the rubble, until he found a familiar face. “Lieutenant” he called to the fair-haired young man who was sifting through a pile of the rocks near by. The man snapped up and ran over as fast as he could.

  “Yes m'lord?” The man asked while snapping into a ridged salute.

  Sighing Dalton said, “Go below and tell the rest that it seems safe to come out now, and bring Lieutenant Commander Windsbane to me. Tetriarch Skyhammer and I have many things we need to plan, and she'll want to be included.”

  The two men walked around the rubble trying to find any clue of survivors, but mainly, it was to enjoy the crisp open air. One did not realize just how stuffy cave air was until coming out into the open again. Soon a buxomly beautiful young woman silently joined them on their walk. Of course, any man that would openly refer to her as that would probably find himself in a duel with one of the best swordsman in the Protectorate. Marisa Windsbane's hair was a light strawberry blond that came from one of Dalton's uncles, and she got the curves from her mother. Luckily, for her, her father was one of the top fighters in the knights, and her mother was the best dancer on the continent. She was a package of grace and deadliness all rolled into one. She was also one of the most tactically sound people that Dalton Theromvore had under his command.

  “You asked for me m'lord?” She said while saluting with fist to heart.

  “Why does everyone keep calling me that?” He said after returning the salute. “What ever happened to just plain sir?”

  Marisa and Leodric exchanged glances and Marisa's face broadened into a smile. “You haven't told him yet have you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “I didn't think that it was necessary quite yet Marisa.” Leodric said lithely while putting on a smile of his own.

  “Didn't think what was necessary?”

  “Well he has to learn of it sooner or later, it might as well be from us.” Marisa could barely contain her laughter.

  “Learn what?”

  “True, but should you tell him or should I?” Leodric said while trying to pretend that Dalton wasn't right next to him.

  “Tell me what damn it?”

  “Oh well you are the Tetriarch of the Sorcerers Leodric, I think it is your job.” Marissa said barely retaining an air of calm.

  “Hello, I'm right here.” Dalton said waving his arms in front of the two impatiently before his voice grew cold. “Do not, ignore me.”

  “True, I'm afraid though that if one of us doesn't tell him soon he's going to pop a blood vessel in his head. Maybe you should do the honor High Commander Windsbane.”

  “High Commander” Dalton choked feeling as if he had been slapped. “Has there been a coup and I wasn't told about it?”

  “He always has been over dramatic hasn't he?” She said to Leodric before turning to face Dalton. “Well, as you know Uncle Reginald died last Eighthday, and since he didn't have any heirs it was up to the council to decide who of the royal family would assume the throne.”

  “Where are you going with this? I'm not one of the royal family…”

  “Ah, but that's where your wrong m'lord.” Leodric said turning to face Dalton. “You see your mother's uncle was prince Tergis, son of Liam and Lori, before he died in a raid unexpectedly. He would have assumed the throne had he not died, but instead his younger sibling prince Reginald, son of Liam and Sylia assumed the throne.”

  Dalton stood there in front of the two glaring. “This is your doing isn't it?” He said eyeing them both equally. “What if I refuse?”

  “On the contrary m'lord, most of the royal family brought it to our attention that you were a member of the family. We simply agreed that you were the proper choice to assume the throne, and as for your refusing.” The Tetriarch breathed deeply. “You can't.” Leodric and Marisa nodded to each other and then turned to kneel before Dalton who grimaced.

  “My lord the knights stand ready and are at your disposal.” Marisa intoned before taking his hand and kissing it. “We shall protect your life and the lives of your subjects to the last.”

  They had pulled straws to see who would go first and Marisa had drawn longest, but Leodric didn't mean to be outdone simply because he wasn't able to go first. “My lord, being as there is no Arch Magus currently the duty has fallen to me to assure you that the Mages stand ready and are at your disposal. Our magic will shape mountains at your command, or lay waste to the enemies of the Protectorate. The Mages can think of no one else they would rather call King, and do so proudly.”

  “Your majesty we are at your command.” They both managed to say together before Dalton turned around and walked the other direction shaking his head and grumbling under his breath.

  They both smiled at each other, they knew that he would do it, because it was his duty, and
they both knew that he would be a great King, because he did not want to be King at all.

  *****

  The Lion's Heart Tavern

  “…And so Dalton Alexander Theromvore became the King of the survivors of the Protectorate. Over the next fifty years of his reign, the city was rebuilt, with a new wall that was constructed by the combined might of the Dwarven and Giant artisans, and reinforced by the power of magic. It had been built to encompass a city twice the size of what South harbor had become before the Disaster. The Giants chiseled away at the rock wall that now protected the harbor, and made it flat enough so that no man or beast could scale its surface. While the wall was being shaped by skillful hands, the mages used their arts to strengthen the wall against a more subtle enemy, nature herself. It had been a topic of discussion amongst the people what to call the city, and many were divided on the subject, some wanted it to remain South Harbor, but most thought that it should be given a new name. On his deathbed Dalton turned to his old friends Arch Magus Leodric Skyhammer, and High Commander Marissa Windsbane and told them to guard the city well so as to keep the city the Safe Harbor that it had become. He then turned to his son and told him to rule well before he slid quietly into Thom's cold embrace. His last words were spread throughout the city, and the people agreed as one that the city be called Safeharbor.”

  The old bard held up his hand to forestall question or comment. “Ah, but that is not the end of the story. Some three hundred years later there was a rift amongst the races of the Protectorate. It still isn't understood why, but the elves decided to head north and form their own kingdom without the 'influence of the lesser races.' The Dwarves decided shortly thereafter that they had enjoyed their time below the earth, and moved away to the mountains to work within them, where the minerals were in abundance to use in their crafts. The giants slowly trickled out heading northeast. Members of every race had stayed behind, and at the end of the split there were only about a hundred thousand people left in the city. It was discovered much later, that some of the original inhabitants of South Harbor had survived the storms by moving inland, and in the solace of the desert they had found a safe haven in the form of a giant oasis. Contact had resumed with the separate groups later still, but the family lines had evaporated by then and any family ties were only recognized within the city-states that formed out of the split. That has been the case ever since. The creatures of Terroval eventually returned in numbers to wreak havoc amongst the people of the land, and the struggle for survival had once again returned to the continent of Terroval.”