The Rawn Chronicles Book Three: The Ancarryn and the Quest (The Rawn Chronicles Series 3)

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The Rawn Chronicles Book Three: The Ancarryn and the Quest (The Rawn Chronicles Series 3) Page 5

by P D Ceanneir


  Havoc found that since the Canndali, he had a more controlled grasp over his emotions now that he was a Rawn Master. His summoning of elements increased and his ability to use it augmented his familiarity and skill of any chosen element. With his hands held in front of him, he calmly held the dragon’s fire away from his body in the form of a hot orange bubble. He heard the sound of rushing flame crackling past his ear. The flame, though hot, seemed less intense than he thought it would be. He did detect that it could burn for a long time, however, and it was composed of a sticky liquid rather than common fire. A distinct chemical smell saturated the air around him.

  He found, to his surprise, that he was able to incorporate the energies of the water element as well as fire into his control of the Arts. This was a technique that Ris’ called Blending, which was difficult, as few young Rawns had the aptitude. Havoc, however, had learnt to Blend water, the easiest element to learn, with other elements at a young age. Now he merged the energies of water and fire to form a protective barrier around his body. He merely twisted and merged the flow of both elements, Water to dampen the effects of the heat and thereby neutralise its intensity and Fire to form a repulsing shell. There was an opportunity here to use the other elements, but even if he knew how to work the flow of energies he would need to concentrate harder than he was now.

  After a few seconds he felt the pressure lessen as the dragon stopped. He spread his arms wide forcing the bubble of flame to disperse into red wisps and embers.

  The huge green scaly beast had landed on another of the islands-stacks just twenty feet away, watching him reproachfully. If he did not know better it looked like it was smiling.

  Let me out! hissed the Blacksword.

  ‘Be my guest.’

  As the green eyes of Havoc quickly changed into the black of the Blacksword, the latter pulled out SinDex from its sheath on his back and then began the change. Havoc was only wearing leather trousers, black boots, red woollen shirt, and a tatty brown leather jerkin, but his, and the Blacksword’s, control of the Earth Orrinn on the swords pommel had improved a hundredfold in the past two years. The dust, earth, gems and other debris that lay under his feet rose around him and diminished into a fine black powder under the influence of the Orrinn. It merged and quickly formed into a cloth like material as the Blacksword used the earth element to change its composition. It flowed around him like black liquid darkness and cloaked him in the familiar garb of the Blacksword. He stood his ground, gripping the hand-and-a-half hilt of the Sword that Rules with both hands as the black cloak settled over his tall thin frame and looked at the dragon through the deep darkness of the newly formed cowl.

  The dragon was doing something strange. Its hunches were rising up and down rapidly, eyes closed, and head lowered, a deep wheezing bark rose, and fell from its mouth making the ground tremble.

  Both Havoc and the Blacksword realised at the same time that it was laughing.

  ‘Well met Blacksword, and Prince Havoc,’ it said in a low, but clearly female voice, ‘I am Ciriana.’

  Chapter 4

  The Dragor-rix

  The Blacksword stared in disbelief at the creature in front of him.

  ‘You’re Ciriana?’ he said, ‘but you’re a dragon.’

  Ciriana looked stunned; she lifted her huge, four-foot wide claw on her left foreleg, and looked at the back, then turned it over to scrutinize the black talons. She then stretched out her left wing, thirty-five foot long at full spread; the Blacksword observed the long slender bony arm and lengthy fingers through the thin membrane. He could make out veins and arteries webbing red and black throughout the wing as it passed through a beam of sunlight for the briefest second.

  ‘Yes! Well spotted, I am a dragon,’ she said tucking her wing against her side, ‘I can see that I’ve got to be quick to keep up with you. Did young Ness not tell you?’

  ‘He conveniently left that part out,’ hissed the Blacksword sheathing SinDex with an angry thrust. Havoc could sense that his alter ego was annoyed with Lord Ness and the dragon’s sarcasm.

  The dragon laughed again, ‘never new Ness to be so cruel.’

  ‘It seems everyone has an evil streak!’ said the Blacksword with a little too much anger in his voice.

  Ciriana stopped laughing; a low growl came from her throat.

  ‘I want to speak to Prince Havoc,’ she growled.

  ‘I can answer for him,’ he snapped back.

  ‘Do not test me Blacksword! I am not an enemy, but I can be, quite easily,’ she crouched ready to leap, but then the Blacksword twitched suddenly, he groaned as Havoc forced his will and took dominance, the pseudo-black cloak tumbled from his shoulders to turn to black dust at his feet. The black eyes faded and the pale skull-like face flushed with colour as the prince took back his body. Havoc caught sight of Ciriana’s expression; she seemed quite upset at what she had just witnessed in the phenomenon of the change.

  ‘Sorry about that, he can be a little arrogant at times and has a low temper threshold,’ explained Havoc.

  The dragon stared at him, ‘the change,’ she said to herself, ‘you both look so different now.’

  ‘So people keep telling me,’ Havoc sighed, ‘I will have a few things to say to Lord Ness when I get back. I did not think there were any dragons left?’

  ‘I’ am the last of my kind, the last of the twelve.’

  Havoc stared in wonder, if this dragon was one of the original twelve brought to life by the Eldi during the early days of the Dragor-rix then she was at least two thousand five hundred years old.

  ‘Hang on,’ he was slightly confused, ‘none of the twelve were called Ciriana.’

  ‘My given name is Apraila; my true dragon name is Ciriana,’ explained the dragon.

  ‘The Dragor-rix poem does not mention that,’ said Havoc rubbing his chin.

  ‘Baa! Herodotus wrote that epic poem six hundred years after the war, so his accuracy was much to do with imagination more than anything was. I will tell you the true account of the first dragons.’

  The beams of sunlight, which filtered in from the cone high above them, moved as the sun tracked along the eastern sky. Even though a small amount of heat seeped up from the lava abyss far below, a chill still filled the air. Havoc and Ciriana moved to the island nearer to the entrance. The dragon blocked the opening with her bulk to keep out the draft and used her flame to heat a pile of rocks that glowed orange, emitting a welcome heat for Havoc as he sat down next to it. He noticed that the dragon fire puddle into a reddish brown liquid within the rocks. Ciriana settled down, lying like an old dog next to an open fire. Her hard scales shifted like mats of giant lilies on undulating water as the muscles moved and flexed under them.

  Havoc felt an excitement build in him; the Dragor-rix was an ancient story from the days of the Eldi, charting the summoning of the dragons and the subsequent war that followed it.

  ‘As you may be aware Herodotus wrote an epic tale, a poem of seven hundred stanzas about the war of the dragons and the people that were caught up in it,’ said Ciriana, ‘it tended to drone on a bit, so I will gloss over the slow bits and do the short, short version.

  ‘It started before the time of the dragons when the Eldi and their people came to Tattoium/Tarridun via the Ri River and then settled on the Aln Plain where they built the citadel of Aln-Tiss.

  ‘There were twelve Elders and each became very powerful Ri’s and noble magnates in their own right. They studied the Rawn Arts and delved deep into sub-conscious thought as they grasped the intricacies of Skrol. They delved deeper than anyone in Rawn history, finding great wonders and dark desires. In time, they formed a link with the energy within the earth, saw the threads of power, and understood that it was part of the life force of the Earth Mother.

  ‘They recognised that this energy was another element and they called it Dra-gon, meaning the Fifth Element. Dragons have always existed, we are part of the earth, but it took the imaginations of men to give us form.

  �
��All of the Elders used their powers to summon, or call, the life of the fifth element to the surface using the concentrated effect of the stone circles. It was close by, at the Rings of Relin to be precise, that the Eldi called us all into existence. In those days, the land around the ring was lush with tree and grass.

  ‘Dragons were not formed complete, but they appeared ready formed in eggs. Twelve eggs were called into being by the twelve Elders, one egg hatched each month. This is why each of the eggs was named after the months of the year. First to hatch was Jarrod on the first month of the year, then Ferran, Marach, me, Malya, Jithi, Jenlyn, Augraniar, Oplacus, Sin, Dex, and finally Nectan.’

  ‘Then that will make eleven eggs,’ interrupted Havoc. ‘Sin and Dex were twins, born from the same egg, didn’t one of the eggs get destroyed?’

  ‘Correct, but that part is still to come,’ answered the dragon, ‘at first the Eldi did not know what they had done, but they could feel life within the eggs. Over a long period, they remained dormant until a year past. The Elder Styx discovered that Rawn Fire could weaken the shell of the eggs and awaken the dragon within, but only on the specific cycle of full moon when the shells were at their thinnest. Therefore, the Elder Owen became the first and used the Arts to open the first egg. Therefore, Jarrod the Red was born on the first month of the year, then Ferran the next month and so on, one a month until the year ended.

  ‘The eighth egg did not hatch and was found destroyed by person or dragon unknown. I later found out that it was Jarrod in one of his moments of fury that killed the young dragon in the egg, but the Eldi believed that no creature from the earth could be so evil. They were wrong.’ Ciriana sighed and stared off into the distance, reliving old memories.

  ‘When we dragons are young we grow fast. In a couple of years, we have already reached half grown. Of course some dragons were smaller than others, females mainly, although, the twins, Sin and Dex, were smaller and slimmer than the rest, which made them fast and graceful in the air.

  ‘Dragons are made of all four elements; unfortunately, unlike the My’thos and humans we lack the power to use it well. We can breathe fire only at a short distance, we use the wind to elevate us and allow us to fly, and water hardens our bodies, extends our lives, and helps us to heal quickly. However, it is the earth element that gives us the power of prophecy, because, like the My’thos, we can see the past, present and future through the life force of the earth.’

  ‘I didn’t know that, but did you not foresee the war?’ asked Havoc.

  ‘Not at that time, the power of prophecy did not come into full force until I reached the age of eight hundred, when my twin awoke in me.’

  ‘Your twin?’

  Ciriana moved closer to Havoc the big head of the dragon turned side-on and he saw she had double pupils on a single green and red iris, which looked straight at him.

  ‘Every dragon has a twin,’ she said, ‘we have two hearts and the second eye is all you can see of it.’ As Havoc looked, she blinked her large scaled eyelid with long black lashes. Both pupils expanded and contracted to focus on him, he felt a shiver go down his spine.

  ‘It is the twin that sees the future, although not always clearly. Prophecy comes with a price. I have always known my fate,’ she stared at Havoc with sadness, ‘anyway, my true name was revealed to me as my twin awoke. His name is Ciri and mine is Ana.’

  ‘He’s male then?’

  ‘Yes, the twins of dragons are always the opposite sex. Twins also give us latent memories when they are asleep; this is how we comprehend the world and understand its nuances. It is the latent memories that form our personality, for dragons are very independent creatures, fiercely territorial, austere, and brave. However, some are prone to committing evil deeds. This is why it is now illegal for Ris’ to call dragons these days.

  ‘In the beginning, the time of our arrival was known as the Dragor-rix, the days of the Twelve Dragons. We helped the Eldi to understand us and we learnt their language. Then, after years of peace, came the war. Jarrod the Red started it; he had gathered several of the others to his will. Oplacus and Ferran were the first to turn to evil under the control of Jarrod, for he was by far the largest and strongest of all of us. Jenlyn and Augraniar were next into his circle that was to become known as the Sept of Red. They had been planning and plotting against us for some time. This cave was their haven, and the local tribe, the Acanthi, rivals of the Nithi, became their human followers. The Acanthi descendents left blonde haired virgins chained to the stone arch for sacrifice to honour the Sept.’

  Havoc turned to look at the skeletons on the floor by the arch.

  ‘In time,’ continued Ciriana, ‘the leader of the Acanthi, Mad-solis, commonly known as Greymane, formed a huge army and joined the Sept of Red. Greymane and his people hated the Eldi and all they stood for,’ said Ciriana with a deep sigh. ‘The Dragor-rix tells us many stories about the war. There were brave deeds carried out by man and beast throughout the whole conflict, but I will not bore you with any of the details. I will keep it short.

  ‘It was a cold winter night when the Acanthi stormed the villages of the Jertiani and Aliniani. They then lay siege to Aln-Tiss and eventually parts of the city burned when the Sept of Red arrived. The field of the Aln Plain was lain waste by the dragon fire, or Wyrmfire as it was known in those days. Of the Sept, Marach was the first of us to see the coming of the five, but his warning to the Roguns was too late. Even us dragons, loyal to the Roguns, were taken by surprise and the battle that followed was terrible to behold. Many died that day, so too did dragons, Marach and Malya were killed from the start as Oplacus and Ferran destroyed the dragon stables that sat to the south of Aln-Tiss where the civil burial mounds are now. I can still remember beautiful Malya’s body, she was burnt to ashes inside the dragon flamed citadel as she fought Jithi. Marach, her mate, fought bravely to protect us but in the end Augraniar, a fearsome black dragon, killed him just as the Acanthi breached the city walls.

  ‘The Rogun Rawns fought well that day and together with the surviving dragons and the Eldi we saw then off. Eventually, the Acanthi retreated into the captured Jertiani lands. However, the war continued, and with the help of the Vallkytes and the eastern tribes, we took the fight to them. Many battles were fought over the next hundred years in the fields and mountains of the Acanthi domain. There was much glory, and tragedy in abundance and the land laid waste and left untilled, which was why it was called the Wildlands.

  The war continued. Jenlyn, who was the smallest of us and the bravest, was killed by Feran as she defended a camp of refugee families and soldiers. I revenged her ten years later, gutting the evil Feran from neck to tail. Sometime after that, Nectan and Oplacus fought each other to death on the Dragorsloth Marsh. Six dragons gone, just six left, three on both sides.

  ‘In those early battles the Sept of Red defended their mountain fastness well and managed to push the Rawns back from the Bone Mountains. The Eldi were under pressure from their own people to find a solution to end the war that had taken its toll on many families. Unfortunately, that’s when the Drakkens were created.’

  Havoc sat up straight at the mention of the Drakken. Ciriana noticed.

  ‘As you are aware they are formidable abominations, yet they helped their creators, the Eldi, to find the hiding places of the Sept, but were no match for the destructive revenge Jarrod metered out on them. He trapped the last of the Drakken in an enclosed valley and burned them all to ash.

  ‘Several of the Eldi, who called the eggs of the Sept, decided to confront their dragons and went under a flag of truce to talk to Jarrod. That act was to be their undoing. I was to hear later that Jarrod in his madness had them incinerated or thrown into the Lava Rivers you see below us, which were much higher in those days.

  ‘Jarrod, Augraniar, and Jithi fled the island for a hundred years or so, why? I do not know. They would occasionally come back to wreak destruction as was their wont for they still believed that the continent was their territory. Ov
er time, their followers the Acanthi were defeated in several battles. Greymane’s host met its end in the battle of Relin Plain by a Rogun host under the command of their great general, Duke Torphilian. Greymane died by the hand of your famous ancestor, Cromme, who was the leader of the elite group of warriors called the Halcyons.’

  Havoc nodded with a smile at his distant ancestors name as he remembered the long ago history lessons he received in the academy.

  ‘However, the Acanthi remained a threat under the command of Greymane’s niece many years later. Another ancestor of yours, Norin Caphil, eventually destroyed them in a great battle on the outskirts of the Dragorsloth. Over time the Nithi hunted down the remaining Acanthi until few remained on the continent or fled into exile.

  ‘So the remaining dragons watched the horizon, lying in wait for the next attack from the Sept of Red. At this time I, Sin and Dex carried riders on our backs as we patrolled the skies. Sin carried a female Rawn called Yula and on Dex, her husband, a great and powerful Rawn warrior called Darus. I, on the other hand, had Darus’s former apprentice, an impatient young fool.’

  ‘Let me guess,’ chuckled the prince, ‘Lord Ness?’

  ‘Correct. He was young and always looking for adventure and glory. You are much like him, my prince. It took many blood-splashed battles for him to be sick of the violence. Yet, even in those days, he was extremely well known.

 

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