Kill the Dragon (Lake of Dragons Book 1)

by E. Michael Mettille

  The path suddenly ended. It was no turn or bend in the path. It was an end. Though he could see nothing in the darkness, a quick examination of the walls surrounding him confirmed it. There were no alternate paths and no small crevices to squeeze through. It just ended.

  A moment of hopelessness fled as quickly as it came. He leaned up against the wall. How long should he wait? Perhaps Brerto had given up on him. The idea seemed rather odd, given how important Ymitoth claimed this training to be. However, the old wizard was nowhere to be found. He could journey back to the cave’s mouth and search for some alternate paths or turns he may have missed, but why bother. It hardly seemed worth the effort. He had been very careful during his journey into the cave to look for alternate paths but hadn’t found any. Besides, he didn’t know where he would go from there. He slid down the wall until his rump found the rocks beneath it. It wasn’t long before his eyes grew heavy. He didn’t fight it. Sleep seemed as good an idea as any.

  The world in which Maelich awoke was far different than that which he had left when he drifted off to sleep. The darkness had fled, chased away by pure, white light. He could still feel the ground against his back and bottom, but he could see neither wall nor ceiling. His eyes couldn’t be trusted. They would have him believe he was floating, adrift in endless light. There was no beginning or end to it and no discernable source. It was everywhere and everything.

  Brerto’s voice, strong, emotionless, and equally without source, surrounded him, “You have found your way. This pleases me. You are ready to begin your training?”

  Maelich searched for the source of the voice but his eyes were equally useless in the blazing light as they had been in the darkness. Tentatively, he answered, “Yes…I think so.” Realizing how his indecision might anger Brerto, he quickly added, “I mean…yes, I am ready, master.”

  “You must always be sure of yourself, Maelich. There can be no question in your heart. Hesitation is your enemy. What is right, is right. Your heart knows this, and you must always trust it.” Brerto’s tone wasn’t scolding. Rather, it was instructional, as if training had already begun.

  Maelich didn’t respond. He simply nodded and waited for more. The silence had him instantly on edge. As the moments bled into minutes, he thought perhaps Brerto was testing his patience. Struggling against impatience, he waited. What if that was wrong? Perhaps Brerto wanted him to be aggressive and seek answers. No, the master had just instructed him to trust his heart. Ymitoth would have instructed him to trust his gut. The initial reaction of both his heart and gut had been to wait. He did.

  After a time, Brerto spoke again, “What do you know of Kallum’s Word?”

  “The Book?” Maelich’s response was quick and eager.

  “Yes,” Brerto continued, “The Book.”

  Maelich continued with confidence, “I am well versed in ‘The Beginning’, ‘The Rise and Fall of Dwarves’, ‘The Rise and Fall of Man’, ‘The Coming of Giants’, and ‘The Law’. I have no knowledge of ‘The Prophecies’ or ‘The Great Gathering’, as my mentor reserved those for another. I imagine that to be you.”

  “Yes, that would be me,” Brerto confirmed. Then, still with no emotion in his voice, he continued, “So, you say you are well versed in the books of old. Recite for me then the first two chapters of ‘The Beginning’.”

  A smile spread across Maelich’s face. He knew them by heart. He spoke as if he were reading, “In the beginning, there was nothing but Kallum, and before Kallum there was nothing. He came upon a place of great sadness and sensed evil within it. Being perfection, he abhorred evil. So, he said, ‘Because I despise evil, I will make this a place of happiness. I will make it a place perfect like myself.’

  In this evil place was a great gathering of water, and Kallum made himself to float above it, and from beneath the water he gathered up the dry land. This land he did bring to the surface, and with it, he did split the great gathering of water. Now this land was quite flat and unspectacular, so he did make many peaks to rise up from the flat land until he found it to be pleasing.”

  “Exquisite,” Brerto now had tone in his voice. He sounded pleased, “Continue, the third chapter.”

  “When he had finished, he saw that the land was barren. With this, he was displeased. He cut ravines across the dry land in and around the peaks. Then he called water from the great gathering of water and did make it to flow through the ravines. He called these rivers, and they did bring water to the land. In spots the water pooled up, and he called these places lakes. He looked upon all that he had done and was quite pleased.”

  “Go on, chapter four.”

  “He looked upon one lake that had been there before he cut ravines through the dry land. This lake was in the center of the land, and it did hold onto the evil that had been held by the great gathering of water that the land split. Here the evil endured. Here the evil remained. Kallum commanded the evil to leave, because he despised it. It would not go. He cursed the lake saying that none shall look upon its evil or bathe in its waters. He would hide it from sight.”

  Brerto’s response almost sounded like excitement, “Excellent! I am quite pleased with your command of The Book, Maelich. Do you know what lake is being described?”

  Maelich’s reply was quick and sure, “The Lake of Dragons, the origin of evil.”

  “Precisely. Do you know what significance that lake has for you?”

  He thought for a moment, “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”

  “I didn’t expect you would. Would you like to know? You’ve always had questions about your origin. Where did you come from? Who is your father? Ymitoth served that role, but you know it wasn’t he who planted the seed that spawned you. So, who then? Would you like to know?”

  “Of course,” there was no hesitation in his voice. “My whole life I’ve asked those questions and received no answer. Is it you who will tell me?”

  “Yes,” Brerto replied. “The lake is your father.”

  “What?”

  “The lake is your father. Your father is not a man.”

  “How is that possible? I am the son of evil?”

  “It would appear so. Wouldn’t it? It is true, the blood of the dragon courses through your veins, but your mother was pure. She was a true child of Kallum. You are a god, Maelich, both man and dragon. That is what the books which have been hidden from you say. That is the truth you’ve been seeking. The fire of the last dragon cannot be extinguished but from the fury of his own fire. That fire exists in you. You are the key to unlocking peaceful bliss on Ouloos. You are the gateway to paradise.”

  Maelich shook his head. It swam with bits and pieces of memories. Filled with things Ymitoth had told him and things he had seen. Finally, he asked, “How could the lake be my father? Many things have been hidden from me, but I know how men are made.”

  Brerto humphed, “Perhaps you’re not ready. You’ve seen that the rules which bind men do not pertain to you. Still, you view yourself as only a man. Did you not bring forth a fire that burned everything on my mountain? Did you not unleash a fury that would decimate anything made by man? Then how do you justify the belief that you are the product of a man? Kallum made himself to appear to your mother in a dream. He came astride the wind as a giant bird, an eagle, and he did speak to her. He told her to journey to the lake, a place where she had never been, and bathe in it. Though she knew not the location of her destination, she did find it. And she did bathe in the lake, and, from the lake, she did become pregnant. You are the fruit of that union. That is what The Book says. That is the truth.”

  Maelich knew Brerto was right. Though he tried to deny it, the evidence was obvious. That was what Ymitoth couldn’t tell him. That was what his mentor couldn’t understand. The confusion which had always strained his voice as he tried to explain it finally made sense. He knew but didn’t understand. Maelich was torn. A part of him felt regal and powerful, but part of him felt loneliness. He didn’t have a father. He had a lake, a lake that was the ori
gin of all evil. And his mother…

  “What of my mother? The lake impregnated her. She gave birth to me, and then what? What became of her?” This was the real question.

  After a long pause, Brerto replied, “Sadly, the weight of your mother’s role in this world was too much for her to bear. She loved you, just as was written, but she knew she would be a hindrance to you on your quest. She journeyed to the temple at Havenstahl and left you on the steps in a basket. Then she flung herself off Mount Elzkahon never to be seen again. The priests of the temple knew the prophecy well and immediately knew you would be the one to fulfill it. Ymitoth was a young warrior with royal blood, the greatest warrior in Havenstahl, even in all of Ouloos. That is why he was chosen to raise you and teach you the ways of the warrior. He has done well. Now, it is my task to complete your training. There is nothing beyond your ability, Maelich. I have been charged with loosing the reigns on your spirit.”

  In that moment, loneliness was far greater than any feeling of purpose could hope to be. Maelich was truly alone. Sure, Ymitoth had been there to raise him, and now Brerto would accompany him through the rest of his training, but he didn’t belong to either of them. His father was a thing, and his mother had taken her own life because of him. He shared blood with no living soul. Tears wanted to flow over his eyes and down his cheeks, but they wouldn’t come. The emptiness in his soul was dry. His heart was barren. He felt like stone, like a statue of a young lad. The light surrounding him faded, and sleep swept in to rescue him from conscious thought.

  Chapter 19

  The Hero Returns

  Twelve summers passed since Maelich had left Keller’s Hill. Now he was complete, and his task had been laid before him. His entire life had been training for the journey ahead. He walked the garden with Brerto as they discussed how he would complete his quest.

  “You will head west the way you came,” Brerto began, “until you reach a bridge that crosses the river Galgooth. There are many bridges, but you will know this one when you come to it. On your journey to me you looked upon the road it leads to and wondered if you’d ever have cause to travel it. You do. That road will take you South and East. No roads cross it. It leads to where the maps don’t go, The Lost Forest. You must go through the forest to reach the dragon. You will be drawn to him. He will try to deceive you. Remain steadfast and sure. Do not let his tongue sway you from your purpose. He must be slain. This is why you have trained, and well trained you are. He will be no match for you.”

  Maelich looked to the west, “I will fulfill my duty in due time. First, I have a promise to keep, a promise I made to a young girl who quite looked up to me. To her heart I must be true.”

  A hint of anger slipped into Brerto’s tone, “Don’t be ridiculous. You sound like a man, holding on to petty, human emotions. You must let those go. For twelve summers I’ve trained you for this task, a task you must undertake now. Not after you go off to have a teary reunion with some waste of a girl. You must let nothing sway you from your duty. The prophecy is written. It is yours to fulfill.”

  Maelich held his ground, “Whether you like it or not, part of me is man. That part of me will not allow me to undertake this chapter in my life until I have fulfilled promises made in prior chapters. In The Book, my story ends when I slay the dragon. There is peace and harmony on Ouloos, but there is no word about what happens to me after the dragon is slain. I know what it feels like to find out you’ve lost someone without ever having said good-bye. I won’t put Perrin through that kind of distress.”

  Brerto glowed as if lightning were flowing through his body, “How dare you? You presume to tell me how it will be or what you will do? Make no mistake about your role, you are a tool. You are a divine tool Kallum intends to use to complete his task. It is his will you seek to fulfill not your own.” The mountain rumbled as his crescendo was a full shout.

  Maelich smiled, “We both know I have nothing to fear from you. I may be burdened with the mind and emotions of a man, but I’m wise enough to realize I have been picked for my task based on my power. I am complete, and your strength does not rival mine. I can sense this in you. There is fear. You stink of it. You’ve taught me to fully realize my potential and now can’t control what you’ve created. Stomp about and have your tantrum, but do not threaten me. I won’t have it.”

  Brerto shook with rage, but Maelich was quite correct in his assessment. The great wizard had nothing to fear from Maelich but hadn’t control of him either. The bright and shining hero would have his little distraction. All Brerto could do was watch. With teeth clenched behind his sneer, the old wizard vanished in a brilliant flash.

  Maelich chuckled at his mentor’s little fit and then looked around, taking in the beauty of the garden one last time. He breathed deeply through his nose, inhaling sweet perfume. He gave a sharp whistle and, in a few moments, Validus charged up from out of the snow. Brerto had said the steed would be sleeping until training was complete. Validus, of course, was quite unaware of his slumber and completely untouched by age. Maelich felt a charge of emotion like nothing he had felt since submitting to Brerto’s training. There were so many memories but no time to give them any thought. There was too much to do.

  The road back to Havenstahl was much easier than the road out had been. Neither Maelich nor Validus ever seemed to tire. They moved across the trail almost as a dream. The Blood Mountains, the flatlands, the river and the hills all floated past effortlessly. Time seemed to have no meaning for them. When Mount Elzkahon and the mighty towers of Havenstahl came into sight it felt as if their journey had yet to begin. The fact seemed less amazing to Maelich than he thought it should. Strangely, he was quite prepared for it. Brerto had taught him how to tap into his great power. Why should this apparent ability to skip across time come as a surprise? The laws of men, the laws of flesh, no longer pertained to him.

  As Maelich neared Havenstahl’s South gate, he noticed not much had changed since he last left the city. Two guards manned the gate as people bustled about in and out of their huts finishing their chores before the sun set. For the first time in years—maybe the first time since he left the hut he had shared with Ymitoth so many years prior—he felt like he was home.

  One of the guards spoke, “State your name and business, traveler.”

  Maelich brought Validus to a halt and slowly removed his hood. Aside from the beginnings of a beard clinging to his chin, he hadn’t changed much. He opened his cloak exposing the crest he earned for slaying Ahm and replied, “I am Maelich of Havenstahl. I seek an audience with my father, the king.”

  “Highness, please forgive me,” the guard replied, the stern tone of his voice melting into something closer to fear.

  Both guards dipped to one knee and bowed. Then, in unison, they chanted, “The prince has returned! Hail Maelich, son of Ymitoth, savior of Ouloos!”

  Being worshipped still didn’t seem to fit, “Rise,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “Why seek forgiveness for rightly performing your duties? Is it not your task to protect Havenstahl from any who would do her harm? You are right to question me, a hooded rider who comes calling as the sun fades. You do right by your post.”

  Moved by the compliment and awed by Maelich’s presence, both guards reached up to touch him. He repaid the gesture by placing a hand on each of their shoulders. After a few moments, they parted and let him pass.

  Maelich crossed the bridge into Havenstahl, the hero was home. Something about the bridge was different. It almost looked as if it had been replaced. Twelve summers is a long time. He must have missed quite a bit. As he neared the inner gate, one of the guards there recognized him immediately.

  “The prince returns!” the guard shouted.

  Then more voices in the crowd echoed the same line. Before long the streets inside Havenstahl buzzed with excitement. Maelich was overwhelmed by a mob of anxious people desperately trying to place their hands on him. Many asked for blessings, pushing and shoving each other to get closer to him. It was the
type of reception normally saved for kings. Simply laying hands on him seemed to bring those lucky enough to succeed in the effort a sublime sense of joy. It was as if the simple act of touching him, their savior, completely changed their perception of the world and their roles in it.

  Of course, it shouldn’t seem all that strange. After all, he was preparing for a journey to kill the last dragon, to free Ouloos from the weight of all the evil the beast represented. Everyone in Havenstahl knew the dragon was responsible for all the pain, suffering, and hardship on Ouloos. To them, his journey represented relief. He was fulfilling the prophecy, their champion. He knew that. Even still, it would take some time to get used to all the attention and adoration.

  The throng of worshippers continued to grow. They closed in tighter. Validus quickly became nervous and jittery as the mob surrounded them. The horse twitched, stomped, and neighed.

  Maelich placed his hand on Validus’ head and filled the animal with sweet, relaxing thoughts. Once the horse had calmed, Maelich turned his attention to the crowd. He touched and spoke to as many as he could. Those he did shined with hope. Their energy was palpable, like he could see and touch it. He could almost smell the joy oozing off them. Still, his own joy depended on a few people he desperately wanted to see. The crowd continued to grow.

  Before long, Maelich found a familiar face. An old friend had tunneled his way through the mountain of blessing seekers. The king, his father strode up wearing a smile befitting a proud, adoring parent. Maelich leapt from Validus and raced into Ymitoth’s outstretched arms. The two men embraced. This swelled a cheer up in the crowd. After the embrace they held each other at arm’s length and looked each other up and down, as if refilling memories that had long begun to fade.