Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2)

by Cole Pain

  They would have never been able to fight so many.

  The Mynher watched him, jaundiced eyes filled with rage. The black fog remained behind. It needed to stay close to its master.

  He spurred Keena faster. Specters came from everywhere, but they were sparse, not concentrated. It was easy to evade them.

  Ren looked up at the sky. He could almost feel the hate churning to be released. How much time did they have?

  As if reading his thoughts, Zorc rode to flank him. “Ista wants us to come.”

  Ren turned toward him, the silent question in his eyes.

  Zorc’s eyes blazed. “She knows I’ll come to stop her with the Silver Eye. She knows you’ll be with me. Let’s pray she’s able to control the hate until we get there. We have no defense if the full power of the Red Eye is released.”

  Ren turned to the rolling hills of his home, now bathed in a revolting red luster. It seemed like his old life was only a brief dream. In a way, he supposed it was. He would never go back to that life or be that man.

  His spiral had started.

  The blood-red sky mocked him. Clouds churned violently as dawn finally broke.

  Over the next rise was the city of Zier.

  Chapter 29

  The closer they moved toward Zier the more worried Ren became. They had passed hundreds, if not thousands of specters since leaving the hideaway. The Desolation Plain’s dead came from all directions, as far as the eye could see, slowly creeping closer to Zier. None of them paid Ren and his companions any heed. They just ambled on as if pulled by invisible threads.

  Ista was calling them, but why?

  Zorc’s somber gaze only emphasized Ren’s worry. Zorc didn’t know either, and the ramifications were too fearful to imagine.

  Ista’s reasoning became clear when they reached the outer wall. Bodies littered the countryside. Although most were from the Collective, others were soldiers from Yor, Crape, Ketes, and Fest. Ramie had mounted an offensive. The outer gate hung open. There had been a fight here, and Ista had lost. Ramie had marched to the inner wall.

  Specters slowly inched toward the open gate, arms outstretched in answer to Ista’s silent demand. Many had already migrated through. Ren could see them in the distance, slowly making their way down the main street of town.

  “She’s trapping them,” Nigel said. “The armies won’t be able to retreat. We have to warn them.”

  Nigel spurred Rage forward before Ren had a chance to reply. Ren rode to flank him. “Follow me. I know a back way.”

  Nigel fell in behind Ren as the others followed. They dodged thickening specters as they entered the open gate. Ren took a sharp left, veering through back streets that wove their way down the poorer sections of Ziera.

  The streets were deserted. The clipping of their horses’ hooves ricocheted off buildings, making their small group sound like a passing brigade. Doors stood open and smoke from deserted fires billowed in the cool air. A few discarded black garments littered the ground. Stray dogs roamed in and out of houses to claim whatever morsels had been left in the open.

  The dark structure of the New Alcazar loomed in the distance, dwarfing the Stardom castle. Its black surface devoured the early dawn light. From the base of the Alcazar the red light emanated its fury. Death and destruction seemed to lurk around every corner. The red sky did nothing to soothe Ren’s nerves.

  Ren glanced down a side alley. Although he didn’t see any specters, he knew they weren’t far behind.

  He urged Keena faster and soon they had broken into the fields. Yor’s colors of navy and white, Fest’s colors of maroon and silver, Crape’s colors of gray and green, and Ketes’s colors of rust and gold were commingled as one.

  But the armies weren’t what brought tears to Ren’s eyes. Hundreds upon hundreds of commoners from Zier had black sashes tied to their arms. They surrounded the army, many holding up flags of the Razon dragon. Little did they know within a few short breaths they would be fighting the unthinkable. The specters were heartbeats away.

  Ren felt something in his palm and turned to see Zorc wrapping his hand around the shrunken Silver Eye. “The specters will be banished once you neutralize the Red Eye.”

  Ren took the small crystal, overwhelmed. Although he knew how to reach the calm, was that enough? Would he be able to awaken the power within the hazy glass?

  When Ren turned to dismount, Zorc stopped him. “Not here. If you open the Silver Eye now its complete effect will be lost. It has to be beside the Red Eye to exert its full influence.”

  Ren turned his gaze to the army. A lone sentry released a shout and pointed down the main street. The masses at the edge of the army turned as one. Ren watched helplessly as many ran toward the new threat without knowing the futility of their bravado. Others fell back, causing mass panic. He would never be able to pass through the horde.

  “The Dragon’s Bane,” Ren said. “There’s a passage there.”

  - - -

  Chris barely took notice as Presario swung his sword at the haze of orange light where Manda indicated the flaw resided. He didn’t step back as the Collective circle shuddered under the blow. He didn’t realize until too late how their attack would force Ista’s hand.

  As the circle fell in one horrendous shriek, Chris’ eyes were on the red light. They should have thought it through. Ista only had one counter defense.

  Chris watched as the red light slowly turned dark. Presario yelled for everyone to move toward the gate, but now the light was almost black at its core.

  And then he felt it, sluicing its way under his skin, claiming his soul – hate.

  - - -

  Ren clutched his head as the dark tendrils of evil seeped inside him. He gritted his teeth as a dark anger boiled to the surface. Then the hate came. It was a hate so intense he could scarcely breathe.

  He fell to his knees, clawing at his chest, trying to banish the hate. It only intensified. He felt himself start panting with the need to kill.

  No!

  Opening his internal door, Ren slammed all of himself behind it, like Nigel had taught him. He held the door firm with his calling power. He stood back inside his mind, searching for the evil he had felt only a breath ago. It was gone.

  The hate was gone.

  His mind cleared.

  Ren opened his eyes and looked at the men around him holding their heads, faces twisting into heinous paradigms of who they truly were.

  Because the Black Knight was used to the brush of hate, he fought better than the others, but even Nigel screamed in effort as the hate began to take control. Ren grabbed Nigel and forced the Black Knight to look at him. “Go behind your door, Nigel!”

  Nigel squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he nodded. “I’m there.”

  Ren watched in complete horror as his friends began to fight, the hate of the Red Eye overcoming their reason. In the distance he heard screams of bloodlust. The army was falling by the hundreds, not battling the specters, but their own kind. Voices mad with hate echoed through the murky light. Ren felt as though he looked in on a nightmare, observing, as Markum did, another’s dream.

  Nigel clasped his arm. “There’s nothing you can do, Ren. Many will die this day, but many more will die if you don’t leave them. You have to do what you came to do, even though they’re your friends.”

  Ren knew Nigel was right, but that certainty made it no easier. He remembered the first truth. If a doubt enters your soul you will give it fire, and if the fire glows hotter it will cause you to fail. He couldn’t let any doubts cloud his judgment or impair the true mission. With the Maker’s help, he had to stop this destruction.

  “We must hurry,” the Black Knight said, “the more we wait the more our friends will tear each other apart.”

  Ren didn’t hesitate a second time.

  He drew his sword and urged Keena into a gallop, back the way they had come, toward the Dragon’s Bane. The three elements inside him quivered in response to the stones. Then a though
t struck him. He couldn’t use magic behind the door. He couldn’t open the Silver Eye without magic.

  Panic gripped him, but then he sensed Nigel’s presence beside him. Ren turned to the third defender with sudden understanding. Although he couldn’t use magic behind his door he could use the calling power. And with it he could draw upon the defender’s power.

  Ren reached out for the defenders with the Druid ability. He tugged their miens to him, calling them to him.

  The sword’s triangle roared to life.

  Ren turned to Nigel. His friend smiled and nodded, indicating he felt Ren’s drain. Ren took more, testing the limits. He brought all three powers together, each with its own distinct colors and emotions. He merged them to one and rushed upward to claim the calm. Before he could reach it, he stopped with a sudden impact, unable to rise higher, unable to find the pinnacle and make the feet of the triangle collapse into the sharp sword of the Quy. That was his power, the synergy’s power. Only the union could make the straight-line syzygy; the defenders could only strengthen it.

  He felt Chris, Aaron, and Nigel’s strength individually and collectively. He could pull from each of their emotions at whim, and although each contributed to the legs of the whole, each had his own hate, his own love, and his own pain. Some were more or less excessive, but together they made a virtually unbreakable force.

  Around the next corner was the Dragon’s Bane.

  - - -

  Ren chose a small entryway under the castle’s main stairwell to emerge. He didn’t have to hide his sudden appearance. The halls were deserted. Ista had used everyone, down to the last man.

  The castle was filthy. Bedrolls and garbage littered the grimy black floor, curtains hung in shreds, and the carpets’ golden threads had turned a somber gray.

  Ren led Nigel through the desecrated hallway onto the main landing. The Alcazar towered over Stardom. The symbol for magic was spaced intermittently on its surface, and as they approached Ren saw heat waves seeping from the runes to shroud the temple in a slight fog.

  Ista stood in the fog beside the Red Eye. Collective women’s lifeless bodies were heaped in one corner. Ista had somehow drained their power in order to control the Red Eye.

  The strain of keeping hold of the Red Eye without the calm had weakened her, but it by no means drained her. She had released the wrath of the Red Eye by choice, not by necessity. But she couldn’t reclaim it. Although you could contain a power stronger than yourself, you couldn’t overcome it. Now that the Red Eye’s power was released only the Silver Eye could subdue it.

  The silver dragon stood behind Ista, glistening amidst the dark walls of the Alcazar. It was chained, just as the painting in the Oracle portrayed, and there were lacerations marring its beauty. Its violet eyes sent a splinter into Ren’s heart. Aidan had merged with the dragon. That realization startled him and saddened him at the same time. Aidan would never know his feelings. He would never know if she reciprocated those feelings.

  When Ista saw Ren the avarice in her gaze deepened, but so did the hunger. She wanted him for his power, and she would do anything to claim him. He stepped in front of Nigel, suddenly fearful Ista would use his friend to force his hand, but Ista only smiled and motioned him forward, inviting him to do what he came to do.

  A shiver of warning overcame him, but he quickly shook it aside. No matter Ista’s reasons for letting him neutralize the threat, it still had to be done.

  Ren dropped the Silver Eye on the ground. Three roaring dragons, blue eyes glimmering in the darkness, exploded to life and cradled the Silver Eye in their wings. The Red Eye’s stand mirrored the Silver’s, but its dragons’ eyes were blood, and the dragons held the Eye in the hollows of their backs.

  Just as he was about to call upon the defenders’ power to awaken the Silver Eye, he realized the full implications of the Red Eye’s hate. Without the synergy’s power the calm was unreachable. He couldn’t awaken the Silver Eye.

  Then he knew what he had to do. He understood the prophecy. He understood the legend. He understood the Oracle.

  His eyes flickered to the dragon.

  Although the Silver Eye was cast out of the essence of the silver dragon, the silver dragon couldn’t awaken the Silver Eye because dragons were incapable of love.

  Until now.

  When he had denounced Aidan he had started her merging. The roar of the dragon wasn’t one of rage, but one of pain – love’s pain. This dragon knew how to love. Aidan had taught it.

  Although a vast sorrow engulfed him, acceptance did as well. Aidan would save the lands with her love. She would have chosen this course if she had known the outcome. He could only pray she had found some form of contentment. She deserved that, and more.

  Ren stepped back from the Silver Eye and turned to the dragon.

  The screams of the dying drifted on the wind like tolling bells. Some, Ren knew, belonged to friends. Ren felt a dragon’s breath of uncertainty, a doubt that his intuition was wrong. Then the dragon drew a deep breath and sent a blast of fire over the Silver Eye.

  A white ray exploded from the top of the Silver Eye, mirroring the black now coming from the Dragon’s Fire. Ren felt the intensity of its love even from behind his door. Shouts echoed in the distance as people woke from their hatred and realized they had killed those they knew and loved. Wails of the undead thundered on the winds as the effects of the Silver Eye sunk them, once again, into eternal nothingness.

  The white and black light from the crystals slowly moved toward each other, each drawn to the opposing power. With each tiny movement love and hate became more in balance.

  A sudden flicker caught Ren’s attention. At the Red Eye’s core were two dark incessant red eyes, and they were looking at him.

  Before Ren had a chance to prepare, something crashed into his mind. Ren fell to his knees, feeling the dark clutches of Barracus’ spirit claiming his body and demanding entrance to his mind.

  Even though his essence was safe behind his door, Ren could feel the evil on the other side. His breath quickened as he realized what he had to do.

  The defender’s power would be inadequate to banish the mage, but if he reclaimed his own power Barracus could use it against him. He couldn’t allow that to happen. First, he had to weaken the mage with the defender’s power. Then, and only then, could he reclaim his own.

  Without warning his door crashed open. Ren found himself looking into the red eyes of a madman. The mage’s essence began searching for his power, reaching for his thread in order to claim the Quy once more.

  Ren gathered all his strength and flung the force away, but not far enough. It immediately came back. Ren then did the only thing he knew to do.

  Stumbling backwards he reached for the open door behind him, the one etched with three triangles in a circle. It was his only defense. Taking his power, he flung it through the door and quickly slammed it shut. The Druids had taught him a valuable lesson.

  A deep growl of rage came from behind. Ren turned to face Barracus. He reached for the defenders, but before he could lock hold of them Barracus surged forward.

  As the demon entered him, his memories were crushed beneath Barracus’ extensive diablerie. He felt his entire essence being used, down to the very hairs on his head.

  Hate bubbled inside him. He felt his blood almost boiling as the hate took over, wrapping around every pore, taking control. He gritted his teeth as he felt the power of hate, the ecstasy of feeling no pain, start to seduce him by its allure.

  As the hate tore through him something else did as well, and it was something that rose from the depths of his soul. It was a call he had felt his entire life, a whisper he had always respected yet never completely understood. And there it was, pulsing at his core, entreating him to deny the hate and fight for the light. As he had done so many times before, he obeyed the call.

  Tightening the grip on his sword, a residue of emotion tingled through his hand. That emotion clashed with the hate he now carried.

&nb
sp; Suddenly the hate repulsed him.

  He looked down at his sword. The white stone seemed to call to him. He beckoned to it.

  Love swelled inside him, washing through him, drowning the hate in its complete purity.

  But the hate seeped inside him again, slowly eating away the love. He didn’t want the love to leave. He pulled for more love, but found the end of it. He hesitated. He didn’t want to take it all. He was afraid it would vanish forever if he did. Nothing should ever destroy something so beautiful. He needed something stronger than love, something strong enough to quench the darkness.

  He looked down at the sword again. A second stone shivered with an emotion far different from hate. He called to it.

  He felt a flicker of pain, an intense pain, and released his hold.

  After the love, the pain was soul crushing, but the darkness was even more repulsive. He called to pain. It seared him, taking more of the hate away but filling his soul with anguish. It was hope crushed, betrayal, love lost, friendships broken, love denied, torture and death.

  When he thought he couldn’t take any more he released the pain and looked inside to see the hate still there. It had weakened, but it wasn’t gone. If he refused to draw more pain the hate would begin to grow again. Taking a deep breath he summoned more pain. It enveloped him. Leaning his head back he screamed at the intensity of all who had been betrayed by the ones they loved. But the hate was still there, pulsing at his core.

  He reached for the door standing in his mind’s eye. It was the door with the symbol of something powerful etched on its surface. Whatever lay beyond that door could help him. He put the tip of his sword in the lock and the door clinked open. He stepped inside.

  His own memories and emotions hurtled over him, bringing the triangle together. He rose higher, reaching the calm, forming the straight-line syzygy of the Quy. He drew on the pain and love of the union, commingled the two emotions to one, creating the strongest emotion of all – love’s pain. It was the emotion that could banish the darkness. But as he stood, becoming the pain of love, he suddenly knew –