Tales from the New Earth: Volume Two

by J. J. Thompson

“Okay,” he said.

  “First, as I have said, the menace of the evil dragons is fading quickly. Partially due to the silver dragon's efforts.”

  “Partially?”

  “Yes. You see, when the primal red dragon was killed and his servants survived, things changed.”

  Simon planted Mortis de Draconis more firmly on the ground and leaned against it. This discussion might take a while.

  “Changed how?”

  “Because the primal twisted his magic and used it to not only allow his people to survive his death, but breed as well, he altered them. They became independent. Free thinkers, you could say. They were no longer mindless tools of the lords of Chaos; mere beasts that answered the will of the gods.”

  The wizard wondered what Argentium was getting at.

  “That's fascinating, I suppose, but so what? They are still our enemies, aren't they?”

  The argent dragon actually seemed pleased with himself.

  “Not all of them. As I said, Esmiralla is hunting down those who still would prey on your kind, and is eliminating them in a methodical and efficient manner. But there are others who pose no threat to you and yours, wizard. They simply wish to live, as most lifeforms do. They want to raise their young, enjoy their new-found freedom, find happiness.”

  “Really?” Simon said skeptically. “I find that...”

  “Hard to believe? Yes, as did I. So I spoke with them myself. All of them. There are not a large number of these creatures, but those that have chosen to break away from the darkness have passed my examination. No one can lie to me. Not dragons and,” he narrowed his eyes as he watched Simon, “not humans. Do keep that in mind.”

  Simon ignored what seemed to be a veiled threat and focused on the more important news.

  “Just how many red dragons are we talking about here. Two? Three?”

  “At last count? Twenty-seven.”

  Both Kronk and Aeris gasped and Simon gripped his staff harder as he felt an abrupt sense of relief.

  “Twenty-seven?”

  Argentium nodded once.

  “But that's remarkable! Why? Why so many?”

  And now the argent dragon's expression became grim.

  “Because of what the dark gods are doing. I am aware that you have been attacked by an undead army, as have your allies. You also faced a dracolich, did you not?”

  Simon shivered at the memory.

  “I did. It was horrible.”

  “It was an abomination!” Argentium spat in sudden fury. “Reanimating the bones of dead dragons? Those twisted evil beings who style themselves as gods have gone too far. Too far!”

  The elementals and the wizard looked at each other. The dragon's anger was unexpected, and frightening.

  Argentium's armor blazed for a moment, as if the sun had peeked through the thick cloud cover and bathed him in its light. It faded as he shook his heavy head and took a deep breath.

  “Forgive me. That was uncalled for. Necromancy is evil. It goes against the very laws of nature and of life itself. At any rate, the red dragons who have turned against these so-called gods have done so mostly because of what is being done to their kin who have fallen.”

  “Wait a minute. Sorry for the interruption, but are you saying that there are more of those dracoliches out there in the world?”

  A gust of wind swirled ice crystals around Argentium and his figure was obscured. When he answered out of the blurry whiteness, his voice sounded even more ominous.

  “Many more. These evil wizards, these necromancers, are scouring the world for the remains of dragons. And they are killing any red dragons that they can find and raising them as dracoliches as well.”

  “What? Even the ones that are still loyal to the Chaos lords?”

  “Even them. The evil gods no longer trust their own control over the dragons. A dracolich is a mindless, obedient servant. Perfect for their needs.”

  “I am surprised that any of those dragons remain loyal to the dark gods,” Kronk rumbled.

  Argentium stepped forward so that they could see him clearly again as the wind became even more violent. Obviously a storm was moving in and the mountaintop was getting darker and the wind louder by the minute. The dragon didn't even seem to notice.

  “No one said they were very clever,” the argent dragon replied with a hint of amusement in his voice. “And that was the dire news I wanted to pass on to you. Now, you summoned me for a reason, wizard. Tell me what you need.”

  “Oh. Right. Well, you already know about the necromancers and their undead armies, so that was part of it.”

  “And the rest?”

  Simon looked off into the raging wind and snow that spun around the mountain. How was he supposed to tell this powerful being that he had been frightened by a bad dream? It sounded ridiculous now.

  “I...well, I mean...”

  “My master has had a premonition,” Kronk spoke up firmly.

  The wizard looked at him in surprise. The little guy wasn't usually so assertive.

  “A premonition? What kind? What have you seen?” Argentium asked him, his electric blue eyes piercing even the snow and ice flakes.

  “It was in a dream,” Simon told him reluctantly. “Look, normally I don't go in for all of this predicting the future and acting on feelings stuff, but damn it, this dream was so vivid, so real. It filled me with foreboding like nothing ever has before.”

  “Go on.”

  “I saw undead armies. Not like the ones that attacked me or my friends in England. These armies were vast. They covered the Earth like swarms of insects. They seemed unending, and unstoppable.”

  Argentium seemed to be assessing his words. His hair blew around his face and his cloak rose again behind him like wings.

  “I see,” he said slowly, his eyes unfocused. “Nothing is unstoppable, wizard. I can assure you of that. And unending? Doubtful.”

  Simon felt a mixture of disappointment and relief. Apparently the argent dragon didn't believe him but was also being reassuring as well. It was a weird blend of emotions.

  “However,” Argentium continued, “that does not mean that you did not foresee something. I think that you and I should take a little trip and see for ourselves.”

  He walked forward, covering the distance between himself and Simon in three steps.

  The wizard tried to hurriedly cancel his shield but Argentium walked right through it as if it wasn't there.

  My God he's powerful, Simon thought.

  Up close, Argentium towered over him. The wizard had to crane his head back to see the dragon's face.

  “I apologize,” the man said as he noticed Simon's discomfort. “This form is as small as I can make it. Any smaller and it could not contain my power.”

  Whatever that means, the wizard thought in confusion.

  Kronk and Aeris had scrambled out of the way and now seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next.

  “Where do you want to go?” Simon asked nervously. “I can Gate you anywhere, as long as I have a picture of it in my mind, or map coordinates.”

  Up close, the man smelled of ozone and, oddly enough, honeysuckle. It was a strange combination.

  “Very effective, I am sure,” Argentium said coolly. “However, we are short on time. So we will do it my way. I trust that your servants can return home on their own?”

  Without waiting for an answer, the dragon put a heavy hand on Simon's shoulder and the two of them vanished.

  “What?”

  Aeris looked around as he was suddenly hit by a blast of wind and cruel cold air. Without the wizard's shield, they were exposed to the elements.

  He flipped over several times before he managed to stabilize himself and return to where Kronk was standing, braced against the wind.

  “Master?” the little guy shouted. “Master!”

  “They're gone, Kronk,” Aeris yelled as he fought against the wind. “Damn it! That dragon could have taken him anywhere. I warned him about Argentium. Didn't I w
arn him? I told him that it was dangerous, but no, he wouldn't listen.”

  “Be quiet!” Kronk bellowed. “Stop trying to assign blame and think. Where could they have gone?”

  “I don't know! Anywhere. Nowhere. We can't track either one of them.”

  The earthen kept looking around frantically as if expecting Simon to appear out of the now-raging blizzard. But there was nothing to be seen and only the wind could be heard.

  “We will have to go home and wait,” he finally told Aeris reluctantly. “Master will return there eventually. He must.”

  “Must he? Who says?”

  Kronk scowled at the air elemental and Aeris looked away, a little ashamed of himself and his gloomy attitude.

  “Fine then, let's head back. At least our dear wizard gave us permission long ago to return directly to the tower whenever we needed to. It would be a long trip otherwise.”

  Kronk nodded slowly but took a final, long look around, just in case. He was coated in ice and snow now and Aeris was tempted to tease him a bit, but resisted. He doubted that the earthen would appreciate the joke.

  “I'll see you at home,” he told Kronk.

  “Yes. I will be along in a moment.”

  Aeris nodded and disappeared.

  “Master, where are you?” the little guy muttered. “Oh, be careful. Remember what you told me once; never trust a dragon.”

  He sighed heavily, looked to the east and faded away, leaving only the wind, the snow and the solitude behind.

  Chapter 28

  It took less than a second, an eye blink, for Simon to find himself somewhere...else.

  He looked around in a panic and discovered that he was standing on a high cliff above the raging sea. Which ocean or sea it was, he didn't know, but the wind was warm, if brisk, and was thick with a salty tang.

  Both his shield and his diamond skin had faded away during the transition from where he'd been to where he was, but the wizard held off recasting his shield spell for the moment as he tried to get his bearings.

  Where was Argentium, he wondered as he searched the landscape. For as far as the eye could see, the land was covered in low ferns and grasses. The cliff's edge was only a few feet away and Simon stepped back quickly, in case a misstep sent him tumbling off.

  “Where the hell am I?” he wondered aloud.

  “You are on the western coast of what your people used to call Europe,” a sweet voice replied calmly.

  Simon spun around and stared. Standing a dozen feet behind him was a woman.

  Silvery hair flowed to her waist and she wore a glittering gown made of metallic links that tinkled as she moved. Her blue eyes were huge and her mouth tiny and red, like a flower. And she was the last person that Simon had ever wanted to see again.

  “Esmiralla,” he said flatly, barely hiding his distaste.

  “Sir wizard,” she replied remotely.

  He had forgotten just how beautiful she was. Perhaps that was the way with beauty, he thought for the first time. True beauty is so rare, so unique, that it cannot be held on to in memory. It fades like smoke over time.

  “What's going on?” he asked her. “Where is Argentium?”

  “My lord has ordered me to attend you for the moment. He has duties elsewhere. But as I am familiar with this world more than he, I have been tasked with showing you something.”

  Simon didn't reply, just waited for her to go on.

  Esmiralla's flawless face seemed to be carved from ice, expressionless and cold. But it was an illusion. She raised a hand toward the wizard and then dropped it again with a helpless shake of her head.

  “What happened between us cannot be undone,” she said in a voice barely audible over the sea breeze. “And what I did is unforgivable. But I ask you, Simon O'Toole, to put that aside if you can. Allies we were and allies we remain, for the good of this world. And if I live for another thousand years, I will never be free from the guilt of my transgression.”

  Simon wanted to lash out at her, say something cruel and cutting. But holding grudges was simply something that he could not do and never had. He hated the Chaos lords and their servants, yes, but what this creature had done, as wrong and as much of a violation as it had been, had resulted in the return of the argent dragon.

  At least some good had come of it, he thought as he wondered what he should say to Esmiralla. She obviously wasn't looking for forgiveness and he had none to give. But he didn't hate her anymore; he simply didn't care about her at all.

  “Esmiralla,” he replied carefully. “We can work together toward a common goal. We can even hold a civilized conversation. We are allies. But we will never be friends. And I will never trust you.”

  It sounded harsh as he said it, but it was the truth.

  She looked away as he spoke and, when he was done, nodded in acceptance.

  “Thank you. It is more than I deserve. But now, come. Allow me to show you what my lord wished you to see.”

  She turned away and Simon followed curiously. What could there possibly be to see in this barren place?

  They climbed over ridges and descended into shallow dips in the ground, all the while trudging through the same vegetation. It became monotonous very quickly and Simon found himself fighting back to urge to whine and say “Are we there yet” like a bored child on a long trip. He secretly grinned as he wondered how the silver dragon would respond to that question.

  He blessed Mortis de Draconis several times as the staff saved him from tripping in the thick grass and the short brush.

  The hem of his robe was stained green and his feet were aching by the time Esmiralla stopped up ahead and motioned for him to join her.

  They were standing on yet another cliff, this one apparently overlooking a fjord, with waves crashing against a cliff several hundred feet across from their vantage point. A rocky beach rose out of the fjord to their right and the crash of the sea as it hit the shore was brutal and unending.

  “What am I supposed to see?” Simon asked a bit breathlessly. He wasn't much of a hiker.

  “Patience, sir wizard.”

  Esmiralla turned to face the sun as it was dipping toward the sea far to the west.

  “We must wait a few minutes until the water below us is in shadow.”

  Simon pushed his hair out of his eyes and frowned, wondering what was going on.

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug. “Hope you don't mind if I sit down.”

  She didn't answer as he lowered himself carefully and sat on the grass. He laid his staff down next to him, stretched out his legs and began massaging his calves.

  The silver dragon stood glowing red in the setting sun. Simon peeked up at her but she was looking off into the distance, her face devoid of expression. He wondered what she was thinking about.

  When his legs had begun throbbing a little less, he pushed himself back to his feet using his staff and watched the sun descending into the sea.

  No wonder ancient man thought that the Earth was flat, he thought as the red orb blazed across the ocean. It looks like a mirror from here. And the sun looks like it's being extinguished by the distant waters.

  “Now, sir wizard,” the silver dragon said to him.

  She pointed toward the rugged beach and Simon squinted down at it, his eyes a bit dazzled from watching the setting sun.

  Something was moving down there. Something, no, many somethings, were crawling and scrabbling out of the sea on to the beach.

  “What the hell is that?” he whispered, as if afraid he would be heard over the crashing waves.

  “Keep watching and you will see.”

  His vision adjusted somewhat to the dim light and he leaned forward on his staff, straining his eyes.

  Was that a flash of white? A hint of rotten cloth? A shimmer of bone?

  “Oh, damn it,” he said as he stepped back involuntarily. “They're undead.”

  “Yes, Simon O'Toole. Undead. Hundreds of them. The necromancer servants of the Chaos lords are drawing forth the dead
from the oceans of the world. How many have been lost to the sea over the centuries? Thousands? Tens of thousands? We do not know. But on beaches around the globe, once the night closes in, the remains of the dead are crawling back to land to fill the ranks of the undead armies.”

  “But where is the summoner?” Simon asked as he looked down at the horrors that were making landfall. “Surely there has to be a necromancer casting spells to draw those things to him?”

  “There is not. Follow me, please, and I will show you how diabolical these dark wizards truly are.”

  The sun had set now and the sky was fading from pink to black. Esmiralla seemed to have no problem seeing in the growing gloom, but Simon began stumbling over brush and loose rocks. He was sure that he was going to break an ankle.

  The silver dragon stopped abruptly and turned to look at him, only her eyes gleaming in the gathering darkness.

  “You may summon some illumination if you wish,” she told him. “The undead do not care; they are mindless and will not be attracted to your light.”

  Feeling foolish, even though Esmiralla had been trying to be helpful, Simon thanked her curtly and created a globe of light.

  He sent it up to hover a few feet above his head and followed the silver dragon as she set off again.

  From the way they kept the edge of the cliff on their left, Simon knew that they were heading for the beach where the skeletons of lost sailors and others were crawling up on to the land. He wondered if they were going to fight and forced himself to ask Esmiralla.

  “Fight?” she asked without looking back. “No, we are not going to fight. At least, not with those pathetic creatures. But be ready anyway, sir wizard. One never knows. Perhaps a shield?”

  Simon cast a shield spell with some relief and felt better immediately. He was under no illusions when it came to his own toughness. He was both very squishy and quite breakable; a bad combination in a fight.

  How the mighty have fallen, old boy, he said to himself with an absent smile. But then again, he had exchanged strength and stamina for magic and youth. All in all, more than a fair trade.

  “Please extinguish your light,” Esmiralla told him a few minutes later. “You need to see something.”