Deke Brolin Rhol

by Doug Backus

  Deke looked behind him. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at. It just couldn’t be and yet, it was. A dragon was relentlessly pursuing them. It was enormous. Two horns protruded from behind its pointed ears followed by three more on each cheek. Its huge eyes looked like two black pools of water and its forked jagged tail swung madly to and fro. It was gradually gaining on them as it maneuvered easily through the sky. The creature’s wings were a shiny turquoise on top with a brilliant red underneath, and were far larger than its scaly body. Claws protruded from the farthest point of each, which the dragon used to destroy anything that came into its flight path. Every few seconds, a stream of flames shot from its gaping jaws, causing the trees around them to explode in a torrent of fire and sparks. The falcon was screaming for Deke to hold on. Deke didn’t quite understand why a bird was talking to him, but at that moment he didn’t really care.

  “We must make the waterfall, it’s our only chance!” the falcon screamed.

  Deke could see the waterfall in the distance. There was a long way to go and the dragon was gaining ground. It was relentless in its bid to destroy them and soon; they would have to leave the cover of the now burning forests.

  The falcon carried Deke between the last of the trees that would provide them cover. They were now flying in the open air. The dragon roared and fired an orb of flames so large it covered the entire sky behind them. Deke could feel the air becoming hotter. The beast’s fiery breath was almost upon them and he braced himself in preparation for what was to come. A loud hissing noise startled Deke causing him to lose his grip. He hurtled toward the ground enveloped in a thick fog. Deke did not see the boy who appeared in front of him in time to stop himself from crashing into him.

  Deke sat up and took in his surroundings. The fog still made it difficult to see. In minutes, he realized it wasn’t fog at all, but steam caused by the dragon’s fire striking the waterfall. The falcon had dived into it to escape the dragon. The hissing noise had simply been the sound of the fire screaming its last breath as the water devoured it.

  “We made it!” Deke shouted.

  “Yes, barely,” Deke heard someone answer.

  Deke turned and stared at the boy he had crashed into. The boy looked the same age as he and was roughly the same size. His eyes were an ashen grey unlike Deke’s, which were blue. His hair was to his shoulders and was a sandy blond color. The boy was covered in bruises and cuts and had a noticeable gash on his forehead over his right eye.

  “Where is the falcon?” Deke enquired while backing away, not quite sure what to expect next.

  “The falcon is gone,” the boy replied.

  “Who are you?” Deke nervously asked.

  “I am your Paladin. My name is Deodatus but you can call me Deo for short.”

  Deke had no idea what a Paladin was and was sure he had never had one before.

  “My Paladin, what is that?” Deke asked.

  “In short Deke, a Paladin is another name for a protector, a defender or guardian angel. I have been at your side since you were born.”

  Deke just stared at the boy. He was obviously daft.

  “It’s complicated, Deke but just because you couldn’t see me doesn’t mean I wasn’t there. You will now be seeing things you have never seen before; perhaps things you only imagined existed. You have much to learn.”

  “More like, much to understand about what just happened.” Deke thought. The monster in the field, the incident in the cave, his father appearing out of nowhere, a falcon that talked and a dragon whose only purpose was to burn him alive.

  “What exactly is happening, where am I and how did I get here?” Deke angrily shouted.

  “Deke, I will explain everything to you but right now you must trust me. We have to go. The dragon, Phanthus, will be alerting ground patrols as we speak. This place is no longer safe.”

  Deke yelled in frustration. “I’m not going anywhere! I want to know where I am!”

  “You’re in Rhol, Deke. Now quickly, follow me.”

  Chapter Six

  The clouds soaked up the last remaining sunlight making the evening sky radiate in a brilliant orange. When lines of red began to form on the horizon, Phanthus knew it would be dark in a matter of moments. This wouldn’t have bothered him normally, but on this day he knew that the sooner the darkness came, the sooner he would have to face Solharn, the Dark Angel.

  Solharn would not be pleased when Phanthus conveyed the message that the little human had escaped him. In all of his years on Rhol he had never seen a creature such as the one that had saved the boy. In the end, it wouldn’t matter. Solharn would not accept any excuse. Still, he would have to report something.

  He was pondering this when he caught a glimpse of Kaltaures soldiers scouring the ground near a fallen village. By the sight of the smoldering lumber strewn about, Phanthus surmised the attack must have taken place that morning. Phanthus watched as they scoured the village for anyone that may have survived their attack. What vile creatures he thought. They had no respect for the fallen. A true warrior respected even the death of his enemies.

  Ω

  Leal was located on the outskirts of the Valley of Aura. It was a beautiful village, surrounded by several miles of field and dense forest. Its quaint streets were lined with log houses built from trees in the neighboring forests. Pipher grass surrounded the area, kept short by several hundred Garin, which freely roamed the fields. Garin were small creatures, but with unusually wiry hair, that was bluish grey in color. Their tails were longer than their bodies and they liked to use them as a whip on predators, or for that matter, any unsuspecting person whom they found to be annoying. They were used mainly for grooming the fields. Because of the Pipher grass their milk was a light blue color. It was quite tasty but not easy to come by. The Garin were very irritable. Most Lealians preferred to drink water rather than endure the sting of their tails.

  Colorful wild flowers of all shapes and sizes grew in and around Leal from the farthest fields to the doorsteps of their homes. The Garin didn’t like the taste of them, which was fine with the Lealians since the Garin helped themselves to everything else.

  In the middle of the village stood a tall building which had been erected centuries ago by Lealian masons. It was said that every rock used to construct its hallowed walls was blessed before having been carefully positioned into place. It was a sacred temple to the Lealian’s and easily housed their entire village.

  Lealians were different than most other inhabitants of Rhol. They had a life span of five hundred years or more and that had allowed them to gain great knowledge over the years. Their populace was not large, for a Lealian woman could have only one child in her lifetime. Because their numbers were small the Lealians had an unwavering loyalty to one another; there was no bickering between them, no stealing, and no unfaithfulness. They lived together, helped each other, and they tolerated no disrespect.

  They were peaceful people willing to help anyone in need, but when provoked they were fierce fighters. Over the centuries they had fought in many wars to protect the world they lived in. With those wars came a profound knowledge of life that was passed down to their children, who passed it on to theirs. The Lealians were famous archers and swordsmen who handcrafted all their weapons. Bows and arrows were made from Orler trees indigenous to their village. The lumber of an Orler tree was the most sought after wood in Rhol, not only durable but strong. Many believed it contained magical powers. The tree itself was small, never growing more than eight feet tall and a few inches around. In many parts of Rhol the Orler tree was thought to be extinct, but the Lealians had nurtured several over the centuries and hidden them throughout the forests of Rhol.

  Even after the kingdom fell, the Lealians maintained the utmost loyalty to Queen Elissa, the ruler of Rhol. While many other inhabitants of Rhol hid themselves far and abroad, the Lealians continued to wage war against Solharn. Even after Solharn created the black plague, killing thousands, the Lealians had refused to surrende
r in their bid to defeat him. They were powerful warriors who instilled terror into anyone who would fight for the Dark Angel. Solharn created the black plague, in the hopes of diminishing their numbers, but it was not to be for the Lealians were immune from it.

  Not a Lealian living today would ever forget the day they were told to retreat. It was not in a Lealian’s heart to sheath their weapons while a war still raged on, but they would be forced to do just that. Solharn’s power was becoming too great. Queen Elissa knew she would not be able to sustain her Rule much longer. With this in mind she protected the Lealian village by surrounding it with an impenetrable force. She ordered the Lealians never to leave the boundaries of Leal until the time was right, lest it would be the end of Rhol. She did not explain how they would know when this time was, just that they would. The Lealians knew their Queen would be helpless without them and that Solharn would control their world. Despite this, they reluctantly obeyed her orders, for their faith in her words far outweighed their pride.

  Their prediction held true. Without the Lealians Queen Elissa’s armies were quickly dispersed, but before she was overtaken by the Dark Angel she used the last of her powers to save what she could of Rhol. In doing so, she ordered the mighty Pegapires to retreat to Tamon where a second force field was created. The last and final field would protect a small portion of Solace and became widely known as the Sacred Realm. It was a safe haven for any of the inhabitants of Rhol who could find their way to its doorsteps.

  Without Queen Elissa, those who could not find shelter were helpless against Solharn’s rage. They were ordered to follow him. Any who resisted had their villages burned and their lives terminated.

  Many had refused and remained loyal to Queen Elissa but this rebellion was short lived. Thousands were murdered in vicious attacks and thousands more suffered horrific deaths after falling ill from the black plague. The plague was a long painful death. Anyone suffering from its ill effects was forced to endure endless days of crippling pain. The inflicted could be easily discerned for their skin would turn black and slowly wilt away from their body. Eventually, after weeks of torment they would meet a welcome death. The only one who could protect them against the plague was the very person who had created it. This alone persuaded many to join Solharn’s ranks. Many were enslaved and compelled to serve him. Many others, less loyal to Queen Elissa, agreed to join his armies rather than become slaves in his quest to take over Rhol.

  The Lealians had waited almost a decade for their chance to avenge Queen Elissa, but in that time they had become far too comfortable with their surroundings. Neither friend nor foe could penetrate the field that protected Leal and over time guard posts dwindled. Only a few still remained and they were housed only when the villagers entered the temple once a week to worship Rhol and Queen Elissa.

  It was on this day of worship that Solharn had instructed the Kaltaures to attack. The Lealians were not yet aware that the force protecting their village was no longer. When the Kaltaures armies struck, the Lealians were unprepared. The few guards that had been posted in and around the temple were killed instantly by Kaltaures archers. The remainder of the village was trapped within the temple.

  The Kaltaures army was relentless; they surrounded the temple and ran through the village burning down everything in sight.

  Only Roland, an elder Lealian, had noticed the advance, which had allowed him the time to bar the temple door.

  “Open the door Lealian or your whole town will burn to the ground,” screamed Abednego the feared leader of the Kaltaures army.

  “We can see it is too late for that, Abednego,” replied Roland. He would not get a response and so he continued, attempting to delay the inevitable.

  “What, surprised I know your name filth? I have fought many wars against you and your beloved Solharn. I would not soon forget the voice of the commander of the army that so cowardly follows the Dark Angel.”

  “Ah Roland, I thought you died bravely defending your Queen. It appears you survived after all and took refuge in Leal, leaving her to fight a losing battle. How does it feel to know the suffering others have endured, while for years you and your people have hidden safely away as if nothing is going on? And you call me a coward.”

  Roland did not reply. He had prepared himself for this day, the day Queen Elissa had foretold. He was quickly ushering his people to a gateway in the floor which led to an underground tunnel. Roland and a select few had dug the passageway over the many years of waiting. It would lead them to the Valley of Aura.

  “Come to your senses Roland. You will all die unless you and your people surrender. Solharn may show mercy and spare your pathetic lives. He still needs some slaves to complete his mission,” Abednego gloated.

  “The people of Leal would rather die than conform to the savage rule of Solharn.”

  “Then die you will.” Abednego roared.

  The Kaltaures began to ram the door and climb the walls of the temple. There would only be a few precious minutes to save as many of his people as he could.

  “Quickly, quickly down the tunnel,” Roland pleaded.

  Roland knew that there was not enough time to get everyone to safety. The Kaltaures army had been quick in their attack and the door to the temple would soon be breached.

  “Jayden, come quickly. You must go and lead our people to the Pegapires. The time which Queen Elissa foretold, has come.”

  “But father, what of you?”

  “Jayden, I have taught you everything I know about Rhol. It is your time son. You must lead the Lealians. It is your destiny, not mine.”

  With that last bit of advice Roland heard the temple door give way and quickly pushed his son down the tunnel.

  “Father!” would be the last word he heard his son speak.

  Roland quickly shut the gateway so the Kaltaures would not discover it.

  The vicious assault on the remaining Lealians was relentless. The Lealians fought with all their strength but with little weaponry it only delayed the inevitable.

  Roland deliberately positioned himself by the gateway so that when the tusks of the approaching Kaltaures soldier ripped through his body, he would fall in a forward motion covering the gateway and blocking it from Kaltaures eyes.

  He lay there for over an hour before he smiled and took his last breath. The gateway had not been detected, giving the Lealians a chance to live on.

  “The Lealians are no more. Collect their valuables and report back to me!” Abednego screamed to his troops.

  Ω

  Abednego was pleased with himself at how easily he had exterminated the Lealians. It had taken less time to kill them than it had to collect their valued possessions. He smiled to himself, greedily looking at his new found riches, which his army had collected and piled before him.

  His trance was broken as the ground beneath him trembled. Startled he looked up to find himself staring into the eyes of Phanthus.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure, Phanthus?” Abednego snorted.

  “Commander!” a Kaltaures soldier yelled.

  A sly grin appeared upon the dragon. “So Abednego, you still waste time over the possessions and baubles of others, instead of concentrating on the task at hand.”

  “I was promised wealth and power when the Dark Angel requested my armies fight by his side and with my task completed, I will reap the benefits,” Abednego chortled.

  “Ah, yes your task to eliminate the Lealians. Successful I presume?”

  “Commander!” a soldier panted while running up behind Abednego.

  “Shut up fool, I am busy!”

  “But Sir,” the soldier stammered.

  “Silence!” Abednego roared.

  “Since you ask, Phanthus, yes very successful and with little effort I might add,” Abednego cockily retorted.

  Phanthus was still holding his coy grin as he turned away to look at the ruins. “Am I to understand that you easily defeated the Lealians, a proud race of ferocious warriors who have fought together
for centuries?”

  “We took them by surprise. They did not stand …..” Abednego did not finish his sentence.

  “Sir, in the temple,” the trembling soldier tried to explain.

  “Spit it out you fool!”

  “Sir, we found a tunnel. Their leader Roland fell on top of it when he died. Sir, we did not see it until we were searching him for valuables,” the soldier stuttered while looking down at his feet.

  Abednego screamed in anger lopping the soldier’s head off with his sword.

  “After them you idiots! Send the Ralcriff down the tunnel!”

  While the Kaltaures troops stumbled around trying to gather themselves, Abednego could hear Phanthus laughing.

  “You are a fool Abednego. Did you even think to count the bodies before gathering their possessions? Perhaps you would have discovered that there were not enough to account for the entire village. You misjudged the Lealians. By now, if they have not already made it to wherever the tunnel leads, they will certainly be ready for any advance you make. They are masters of weaponry and warfare. You will not find them, and for that you will answer to Solharn.”

  With that, Phanthus roared and flew off. He was quite pleased that he was not the only one who would have to face the wrath of the Dark Angel.

  Chapter Seven

  Jayden heard the slam of the door followed by the sound of a lock snapping shut. Now there was no way to help his father and the Lealians who had been left behind. The thought of how they would meet their end made him cringe. Many, who had chosen to stay back and fight, were his friends. With a heavy heart he walked in silence, leading the survivors down the tunnel that he knew all too well. When the tunnel became damp and drops of water began to fall from the ceiling like rain, he knew they were passing under the River of Juant.