by P D Ceanneir
‘I’m nearing the end now, it is ironic to think that the war with the Sept started on a cold winter’s morning and ended on a similar day, but that is how it was. Jarrod, Jithi, and Augraniar came in from the South Seas through the islands of the Horn and over the Duluth Row and the Bone Mountains. Fortunately, we saw them first, and attacked them as we dived out of the sunlight, surprising them to our advantage. Sin and Dex worked together, though small and light, they were quick and deadly in the air. Within seconds, Sin had sliced open the soft underbelly of Jithi. Dragons can heal quickly with the use of the water element, but for some reason wounds inflicted by a fellow dragon are far more difficult to heal.
‘The twins attacked Augraniar next while I took on Jarrod; however, I would have been no match for him, he was bigger and stronger than I was, but surprise was on my side as I came out of the sun unseen and he was distracted by the twins attack on the other two. I collided with him, landing on his back and forced him against a mountainside. While he scraped down the rocky face, I dug and tore into his back and ripped his wings, though he recovered and shifted his balance sending me to the ground. Ness helped, using the Rawn Arts. To dragons, Rawn Fire is painful and difficult to heal and his burning fire enraged Jarrod.
‘Meanwhile, Augraniar struggled to fend off the combined forces of Sin, Dex, Yula, and Darus. As the Rawn Fire engulfed him and burnt holes in his wings, he desperately lunged for Sin and wrapped his body around her. His weight pulled Sin and Yula down into the wide mouth of Dracolinth-sol volcano. Both Dex and Darus felt the deaths of their loved ones and anguish dulled their senses as they aided me in attacking Jarrod.
‘By this time we needed help, I and Ness were each wounded badly as we both avoided Jarrod’s teeth and claws, Dex brought the relief we sought and wounded Jarrod more, but on the ground Dex was no match for the larger dragon and he and Darus suffered grievously for it. We were spent and Jarrod could have finished us off, but instead he left us to enter the entrance to this very cave. Dex and Darus followed harassing him all the way, though both of them were weakening from loss of blood, but as Jarrod reached the cave entrance, he turned and hit them with a large Fireball that knocked Darus off Dex’s back. Darus was now badly hurt and at the mercy of Jarrod. Dex had acted quickly and landed in front of Darus to protect him. He was weak, bleeding from many wounds, and badly burnt by Wyrmfire.
‘Herodotus in the poem tells us that the dying Dex asked Jarrod to see reason, end the war, and return his essence to the Earth Mother it was pointless to continue, all was lost. Jarrod listened to him, for before the war these two were great friends. Dex convinced Jerrod that the cause was lost. He did this with his last breath. Jarrod was saddened that things had come to this and bemoaned the death of his old friend. He turned and entered the Crystal Cave.
‘I and Ness soon arrived at the cave entrance and found Dex dead and Darus wounded, I asked Ness to take Darus down the mountain and then went after Jarrod on my own. I found him slumped on one of these islands of crystal and watched him die. I can tell you this though; I suspect his grief took his soul from his mortal flesh more that the wounds he received from me in battle. Before the end, he confided in me the reason for his madness.’ Ciriana stopped and looked off towards the island that Havoc had gone to when she attacked him. She seemed lost in the past as the memory of that day still pained her. The prince sensed she still yearned for her kind. She sighed heavily.
‘It was his twin you see, she had died long ago, from shame apparently, when he had destroyed the twelfth egg,’ she continued, ‘he had lived with the guilt for years and the knowledge of his twins death brought on his madness. Without the voice and comfort of the twin then a dragon is lost and alone even amongst his own kind.
‘Ahh I see... the Dragor-rix poem is a little sketchy about that part,’ said Havoc.
‘I think Herodotus used his imagination for the most part, he was partly right in the end.’
‘What happened to Darus?’
‘He was filled with much anguish at the loss of his wife and became a recluse for fifty years after the war. In that time, he studied the Arts and became a powerful Ri. As you know, most Rawn Masters change their names when they become Ri’s, he titled himself as a son of his hometown, which is now a large seaport, Sonora.’
Havoc gasped and stared at the dragon, ‘Soneros! Son of Sonora translates to Soneros. Soneros Ri is Darus?’
‘Correct, though not many know, and he likes it kept a secret,’ she warned. ‘I also allowed people to forget I existed. Ness and Soneros are the only ones who know where I’ am. Oh, and Gunach.’
‘You’ve met Gunach?’ Havoc sounded surprised at that piece of information. The Dwarf had never mentioned it.
Ciriana nodded and barked a laugh, ‘he and I stumbled upon one another many years ago. Gunach is quite old you know, in his youth he tended to wander.’
Havoc shook his head, ‘he never speaks of his past.’
‘Ha! Even I have trouble recalling my life. Anyway, both Darus and Lord Ness speak very highly of you. You have controlled your Pyromantic Curse and I see that you have managed to manipulate the Earth Orrinn on your sword.’
‘Yes, but only up to a point, it doesn’t have much range and I can only hold it for an hour at most,’ sighed Havoc, ‘but I’m getting better at using it to blend many complex materials together to form the cloak or a shroud of darkness.’
‘You will be able to use it to its full potential in time. Being able to control an Orrinn is called Ruling, and it is done in the subconscious mind.’
Havoc frowned and took out SinDex from its sheath. He looked at the two Orrinns that sat side by side making up the swords spherical pommel. Ciriana was also staring intently at it.
‘So is that why I can understand Skrol so easily?’ he asked her.
‘Of course, Skrol is the pathway to the subconscious. Your grasp of Skrol is unrivalled in this world,’ she smiled knowingly at him. ‘The sword helps you to be in command of Orrinns.’
Havoc remembered the Wind Orrinn and how he turned it into a tornado that day at Othell’s Cairn. The sword helps me control Orrinn’s, he thought, it helps me Rule them.
He jumped up suddenly, ‘the last line of the prophecy!’ he said loudly, “for he has the Sword that Rules”. It’s not about ruling with the sword, it’s about controlling Orrinns.’
The dragon was laughing with that loud bark, ‘finally sunk in has it?’
He frowned as he caressed the sword and paced back and forward. ‘The Orrinn also gives me the ability to see the future, though not very clearly.’
The huge dragon nodded. ‘The gift of prophecy is not always a good thing,’ she said, ‘you become a slave to it. Every action and eventuality, no matter how small they seem, will come to some form of conclusion.’ To the prince, her voice seemed sad, ‘as a prophet I see all the threads of fate and destinies weave together. Sometimes the pattern is not always pretty to behold. It is like an organic tapestry. These Lifethreads, as I like to call them, are all the same for most people. Yet, there are some that stray from the pattern and pull against others to remake the future and disturb the present, not always for the better I might add. I call them Bani, which is an old Hinterland word for a mischievous fairy.’
‘You’re talking about the Blacksword, aren’t you?’ Havoc asked.
Ciriana nodded, ‘yes, there are others, but him most of all. Because you and he are connected, then you are also Bani.’
Havoc groaned, ‘nothing is ever simple in my life! Today I have found out that dragons still exist and that I’m also a fairy that changes peoples destinies.’
The great dragon barked a laugh, ‘do not be so hard on yourself, my prince. Most Bani do not realise they are having any effect on people at all.’
Havoc regarded her for a moment. ‘I thought I was here to meet you and to discover my own destiny at the Ancarryn?’
Ciriana barked loudly and her massive shoulders hunched as she laughed.
Havoc smiled back, ‘I suppose so.’
‘You should also have faith in your abilities,’ she said, ‘or rather, the Blacksword’s. I have seen the future threads of the Ancarryn and it will be one to remember. Although the threads of Bani shift quickly and are always difficult to follow.’
Havoc stared at her expectantly as the dragon frowned.
Ciriana tilted her head to one side and her forked tongue flicked out, ‘the frustrating thing about the Blacksword is that his future is much clouded, but yours is not. Yet you share the same body, very peculiar.’
‘So when I become the Blacksword…’
‘You disappear from my sight,’ interrupted the dragon with a nod, ‘yet I see the lives of others around him as he reshapes, or severs, their threads. So I can track him, up to a point.’
‘Ah.’
‘You do realise that the Blacksword is a separate entity inside you, don’t you?’
The prince nodded, glancing at the sword. ‘I think his creation has something to do with this.’
‘Partly, but the answers to your questions will come in time.’
‘Really? I don’t think he knows much, himself.’
‘He knows more than you realise.’
Havoc felt that the dragon knew more than she was telling him, but for some reason he did not feel inclined to push her for the answers. Ciriana must have sensed his confusion, because she sighed and said, ‘Sometimes it’s best not to ask the questions you have if you already know the answer.’ She waited for him to reply to that but the prince remained silent. Ciriana changed the subject slightly, ‘I foresee that your main goal in going to Dulan-Tiss is to rescue your mother?’
Havoc nodded. He blinked as moisture welled in his eyes.
‘Good. When you find her, she will take you to meet someone. Do not argue with her, just follow her.’
‘Who?’
‘Another Bani. I will say no more on the subject.’
Havoc frowned and was about say something when the dragon moved her body closer to the ground and jutted out her right leg, ‘let’s make a move then,’ she said.
Havoc just stared at her without comprehension. She looked around at his bemused face.
‘I realise that you have never had the privilege to ride on a dragon’s back,’ she said sarcastically, ‘but, even though we dragons find it demeaning I’m not about to ask you a second time.’
All thoughts of further questions were shoved to one side as the slight pang of apprehension rolled around in his stomach. He was about to fly on a dragon. Havoc sheathed SinDex and gingerly climbed onto Ciriana’s back, stepping on her right knee first then grasping hold of the diamond shaped ridges on her back to haul himself up. Once on her back he found that part of the bony ridge behind him acted as a short back support and he was able to hold onto the one in front. Ciriana’s nape was directly in front of him and she tucked her massive front legs onto his shins, effectively holding him into place.
‘Hold on tight now,’ she shouted, ‘if you feel sick then vomit in the opposite direction of flight.’
‘Good tip. I’ll try and remember that.’ No sooner had he finished the sentence Ciriana leapt into the air. The sudden movement forced Havoc back into his seat as the great wings unfolded and the dragon flew vertically upward heading for the opening of the cone mouth at the top of the mountain.
Ciriana used the wind element effortlessly. It gave her lift under her massive body and wings when there was no thermal air rising. Now he understood how such a heavy creature could fly. She tucked in her wings as she neared the narrow gap of the cone mouth and used the momentum of her flight to zoom through the opening. Once through, she glided down the side and then used her long thick tail as ruder to steer her into a long forested valley.
Havoc’s stomach lurched and heaved at each lift and turn, but he whooped loudly enjoying the experience and soon found out he could shift his balance this way and that as the great dragon banked into a steep turn, this helped to lessen the feeling of nausea.
She flew low at first through the long narrow valley. So low, that Havoc could almost reach out and touch the treetops. The wind lashed his face and tears were pulled from his eyes as she sped west. She rose higher after a while, dodging through more mountain peaks, then entered the clouds. Moisture clung to him as the whiteness of the clouds blocked out all sight around him. The huge lungs of the dragon breathed effortlessly in time with the whooshing of the wings to whip the clouds into tight vortices at her wingtips. Then suddenly, they exited the clouds into a setting sky, tinged with red and purple, high cumulus in the distance seemed as if they were on fire from underneath, the prince gasped at the beautiful sight.
The air was thin up here. He breathed fast and shallow, then his stomach lurched again as the dragon fell back through the clouds. Once again, moisture soaked him to the skin and chilling him so much that his teeth chattered. As they came out of the clouds, Havoc saw that they had come quite far. Below them was the maize fields of the Aliniani, the Great Wall that separated the Wildlands from the southern Tattoium tribes was far behind them, and in front was the large expanse of the Aln Plain.
The warm air from the thermals that rose from the plain allowed Ciriana to glide lazily on their updraft and Havoc’s wet clothes were drying in the warmth of the wind. He noticed moisture had trickled down Ciriana’s neck and formed into a puddle in a hollow at her nape. He lent forward and drank deeply, the cloud water was cold and refreshing and he had a fleeting thought that Lord Ness must have drank from the same hollow hundreds of years ago. Lord Ness, Havoc smiled in understanding, so clever of him to think that the best way to escape Dulan-Tiss is to fly out, clever man.
The whole flight took an hour or so and Havoc almost felt sorry that they were descending to land. Ciriana swooped towards the ground at terrifying speed then skilfully spread her wings out wide to slow her descent. The long grass of the plain flattened under the downdraft, the actual landing was soft and anti-climatic. They had alighted on a deserted area of the plain, long grass stretched to the horizon all around.
‘You are a natural rider,’ said Ciriana as Havoc slipped of her back, ‘which is just as well if I’m to help you.’
‘Yes, well, my original plan was to fight my way out of the citadel, but I suppose flying will save time and energy.’
‘Ha! You are so modest, my prince.’
‘How will I be able to summon your help?’
‘Do you still have the Horn of Relin?’
Havoc frowned; Sergeant Chirn was still the battle horns keeper, ‘no, but I can get my hands on it.’
‘Good, the horn was made during the War of the Dragor-rix; it was used to summon us. Give one long blow on the horn and say my name and I will come,’ she said, ‘the citadel is ten miles that way,’ she pointed her head to the west, ‘safe trip, Prince Havoc.’
She turned her large body and expanded her wings. She crouched ready to leap into the air and Havoc felt sorry to see her go.
‘Ciriana!’ he shouted.
‘Yes,’ she turned her huge head to look at him.
‘Thank you, for everything.’
‘Destiny, young man,’ she laughed, ‘has strange bedfellows, so don’t thank me yet.’ She leapt into the air and soon became a speck in the sky.
Chapter 5
The Cybeleion
Havoc spent the night in a tavern in Barnstown called the Wheatsheaf. After the flight with Ciriana he felt exhausted, the return of his hangover did not help. In the early morning he walked to Aln-Tiss. The guards at the east gate were obviously confused to find the De Proteous knocking on the sentry gate that was set inside the larger of the two great doors.
He later found Lord Ness in his old classroom in the Rawn Academy, instructing about a dozen young Rawn Apprentices on the Water Element. It reminded Havoc of his early days in the same classr
oom. Maybe one day, he thought to himself, I will teach here.
The young students all rose and bowed to the De Proteous as he knocked and entered, Havoc waved them to their seats. He begged lord Ness’s forgiveness, but requested to speak to him urgently.
Lord Ness turned to his class, ‘open up Kalian’s Hydrometrics’ and review chapter ten, please. I will return to ask questions on how one strengthens surface tension of Water Spheres.’ The students all shuffled books on their desks and opened them to the right chapter as the Ri and the prince left the classroom.
‘That was by far the cruellest jest you have ever played on me, master,’ said the prince with a smile when they were in the privacy of the corridor, ‘but I now see your plan.’
His old master laughed, ‘apologies, your majesty. I hope she was not too harsh on you, she does have a temper.’
‘We talked a while, about the Dragor-rix mainly.’
‘You did?’ Ness Ri looked surprised, ‘she rarely talks about the past. Anyway, I have learnt that the rules to the Ancarryn have not changed, so you will still need a patron to give you legitimacy to take part. The question is this, which Rogun noble will patron you when you are in the form of the Blacksword?’
Havoc pursed his lips, ‘I will have to think on that, my Lord. I may have someone in mind.’
Seasons changed, the autumn leaves rained down upon the land and was soon covered by winter snow, but the cold wind of the season also brought with it bad news.
Old Toms had died.
Havoc’s heart was filled with sadness as he learnt of the loss of the hardy trapper who had taught him and Magnus how to hunt and survive alone in the wilds. The trapper had died in his sleep and not as he always wanted, on a hunt.
Old Toms had always wanted to be buried on one of the small islands that sat to the north of Lake Serene. Eleana organised the funeral, Magnus, Havoc, Lord Ness, and the king were all present. Havoc insisted on bodyguards for the king so Lord Rett and all of the prince’s Paladins in full armour travelled with them and watched over the funeral.