Flight of the Dragon Knight

by D. C. Clemens

  Aranath grunted. “Stand up and tell her ‘It is so.’”

  “It is so, Iterra.”

  The summoned dragon lowered her head and shut her eyes. Then, resuming her previous position, she said, “Your name, human.”

  “Mercer.”

  “Should I assume you are the reason the sages have summoned me?”

  “Yes. I need the aid of the dragon realm. I need the best information you have on nismerdons and their magic.”

  “Nismerdons? Why?”

  “At least one could be here.”

  “In Orda?”

  “Yes. Spiral-like symbols have been found near large mounds under a volcano, which was occupied by a human cult using powerful magic. The mounds are now buried by a lake of lava, but the Advent’s leader claims to have awoken his master with the help of holy prana. This master is now regaining his strength somewhere in Orda, and I need to find out the best way to find and stop him.”

  An introspective rumble quivered her neck. “A serious assertion.”

  “Trust me, I’m all about serious.”

  “Another grim assertion for a child to make.”

  “The Advent took away my childhood, the life I should have had. Finding time to jest with a dragon and their sages is nonexistent on my list of priorities.”

  “A shame. Dragons and their sages should always find time for jesting, even if our humors are different.”

  “Will you help, Iterra?”

  “Do you have proof of your claim?”

  “The former Alslana king will spread what I claim. He and his army were in the volcano with me.”

  “Ah, Alslana. I believe that is where Aranath was summoned, yes?”

  “Aye.”

  “Can you summon him now?”

  “No. I only summoned him before using the aid of leftover holy prana. I’m hoping the sages here will guide me to that end. Should they?”

  “Are you really asking whether my elders will object to a human becoming Veknu Milaris?”

  “Sure.”

  “I cannot say either way. The elders have always known a human could someday stumble upon the link to Aranath, so they must also be comfortable, or at least curious, by the idea of Aranath partnering with a human. I will return to my realm and inquire on the matter, as well as learn what I can about nismerdons. I do not know how long that will take, but my wings will be swift. When I am ready to be summoned, this rune will shine. Is there anything more?”

  “Only to thank you, Iterra.”

  “We’ll see what I return with. Ben’ha cur sismis.”

  Aranath simply told me to say, “Yes.”

  “Mes la mar. Sismis. Very well, release the spell.”

  In a gust of wind that sucked us closer to the rune, the great beast vanished.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Is everyone all right?!” Quandell asked as loudly as he could, though he didn’t have the strongest of voices. His question had to be passed down the circle.

  A few of the older sages were breathing hard, but nothing more worrisome than that.

  As I helped Quandell straighten his bent spine, I asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Never better, my lad. Gods, I always thought thelki were robust beasts, but they are but pups compared to a full-blooded dragon, aren’t they? And to hear her speak! Like a feminine thunder. Marvelous.”

  “What now, Master Hermoon?”

  “Ah, yes. Back to business, I suppose.”

  “Er, sorry. I didn’t mean to snap you out of your wonder.”

  “No, no, it’s quite all right. I expect you’ll provide a little more of it if we can help you summon Aranath. While we wait for Iterra to signal us, I would like to begin your training. Do you feel up for it, child?”

  “I can start right away.”

  “Good, good… From what I’ve read, dragon knights came from children who trained for years before ever getting the chance to meet their dragon knight master, which happened when they got to be around your age. Many would not get that far. If a sage ever witnessed a child harming animals for amusement, start fights with their fellow apprentices, or any number of ominous conduct, then they would be sent back to where they came from without a second thought. You have obviously skipped these initial stages.”

  “And you’re worried I find my amusement by pulling the wings off flies?”

  “No. Well, do you?”

  “Only if they deserve it. None have, so far.”

  The sages had gathered in front of us as we spoke. Most were still in a curious state of awe as they absorbed what had just happened. It reminded me that most people led different lives than I, even sages who protected and studied the old ways of dragon knights.

  After a few words from Quandell to the sages explained that he planned to train me, Quandell said, “As I was saying, not going through the traditional trials muddles a clean evaluation of your skill. However, you came very close to summoning Iterra on your own, showing me that you are not far from summoning a dragon without a rune. Still, I first need you to complete a trial or two before moving on to an advanced form of training.”

  “That sounds fine.”

  Back to the sages, Quandell said, “Those assigned to the Trial of Heights, please move to your positions!”

  A band of sages separated from the main group and walked toward the bridge. The first sage that reached the structure stopped and let the others pass her. Ten feet later and the next sage stopped. The first sage then rose her hands. The earthen spell she cast tore off several pieces of flat rock from the bridge’s inner brim. She next spaced them out over the mile deep drop. Her neighbor started doing the same. The pattern continued as Quandell continued to speak.

  “As the name implies, a prospective dragon knight needs to rid a human’s inherent wariness of the sky, just as a swimmer needs to overcome their anxiety over drowning. You see, prana responds to one’s mental state as easily as it does to a physical one. So summoning a dragon with a mindset that still fears falling to one’s death restricts your potential. This is of course different for everyone. I, for one, started climbing trees as soon as my fingers and toes became strong enough to grip a branch. How strong is your aversion to heights?”

  “Unless the Vyalts started shaking, I mostly did fine. The drowning thing looms much larger in my instincts.”

  “This will hopefully be a quick trial, then. Follow me.”

  Quandell and I walked up to the pillar’s edge by the bridge, watching as the last of the sages prepared their share of floating rocks. The length of each rock looked no longer than my foot.

  “I assume you want me to cross the gap using only the rocks.”

  “Correct.”

  “Do all sages go through this trial?”

  “It’s voluntary, but yes, we all choose to test ourselves.”

  “And I assume dragon sages don’t let the younger ones fall to their deaths.”

  “Perhaps we do.”

  “Uh-huh. Do I start now?”

  “Once you remove the possessions you don’t wish to retrieve off the forest floor.”

  A dry day wouldn’t even have me worrying about falling, but the rain did increase the possibility that a foot would slip. I therefore removed the belt and scabbard holding Aranath, my dragon stones, a cloak heavy with rain, and other sundry items.

  “By the way,” I said, “I’d like for my companions to be here. They probably want to come to my funeral in the event I make a ‘splat’ sound soon.”

  “I’ll send for them.”

  “What do I do when I cross to the other side?”

  “Come back, then start again until your fear has eroded away.”

  “Sounds sane.”

  I stepped to the edge and wiped the rain off above my eyebrows. After recalling my balance training on the ship’s hull, I leapt for the first stone. My foot landed securely on the suspended rock after half expecting the stone to move out from under me. A second later and my next step reached the second fo
othold. The sages kept the stones firmly in place, though the rocks were not perfectly spaced or on an even plane.

  I tried looking straight ahead at first, but thinking that contradicted the point of the exercise, I glanced down when I could. The plummeting view became a familiar sight during my time in the Vyalts. Still, that primal tinge in the forefront of my brain warned against staying above so much air. Was this the voice I had to silence completely?

  When I touched down on the southern pillar, I turned to see that the casters on the bridge were joined by the remaining sages. They looked on as I took my return trip to the eastern pillar. Once again I had no trouble losing my balance all the way to the end.

  “Impressive,” said Quandell. “Shows the difference between a warrior and a thelki summoner. It takes most of us dozens of tries before we can prevent ourselves from falling, and that’s on drier days. Keep going for as long as you can.”

  There came a point when the rain fell harder, giving me a couple of close shaves. This had me wondering what would happen if I did fall. How would they save me? That question bugged me more and more. Then, on catching sight of two thelki flying to the southern pillar with my friends, I, as Ghevont would put it, formulated a hypothesis. The testing of that hypothesis proceeded after I said, “Fuck it.”

  I jumped.

  The stupidity of the decision collected into my throat, eliciting a brief shout before I forced it back in. Whistles from above dropped faster than I did. Two big colorful blurs then flanked me. The blue one flew closer, maneuvering itself under my falling body. I grabbed the saddle and set my stomach against its back. The thelki next flew upward, carrying me back to the eastern pillar’s peak. I slid off the thelki, offering my thanks by patting it on the head.

  The two flying thelki I had seen before taking the leap of faith landed near its blue kin. Ghevont hopped off the scribe’s thelki while Clarissa skidded off the white one.

  As Quandell came near, I said, “I’m pretty sure I figured out what the point of this trial is.”

  “Yes, it appears so. Competitive children who fear failure generally take days or weeks to learn that passing the Trial of Heights comes once one embraces the sky, not simply use the stones to enhance their sense of balance. Thelki have always been used for this trial, as they have a natural instinct to catch those who fall or become injured. Thelki or griffins are also used to teach children how to fly, giving them confidence that they can ride a dragon with some competence.”

  “Is that my next trial?”

  “It’s no trial, dear boy. Merely what I have in mind.”

  Dashay, hearing an opening to speak, said, “Master Hermoon, is it true a dragon was summoned?”

  “Yes, but do not fret. I will make sure you’ll be present when she returns.” A booming grumble from the clouds convinced Quandell to say, “Since thelki do not fly well in these conditions, it’s best we find shelter until the clouds expel their bounty. It doesn’t help that most of us are liable to getting a nasty cold soon.”

  The transitory journey to the western pillar had me describing to Clarissa, Ghevont, and a little to Dashay what had happened since I left them not so long ago. Clarissa slapped my arm when I told her the last thing I did.

  Waiting to cloister us from the elements was a fully enclosed temple of reddish-brown and white stone. A large domed roof capped the center of the Dragon Spire Temple. Unlike the others, this temple was kept vine free and had no windows to speak of. I couldn’t see the entrance until Eloise tapped her cane on the surface, removing an illusion spell that revealed double doors made of an almost white silver. Above the doors were a varied pattern of crisscrossing scratches. Aranath translated the dragon script to say “Breathe deep and fly high,” the dragon knight motto.

  Lit candles of different sizes lined the vaulted room we entered. A three-layered black chandelier dangled fifteen feet down from the dome and poured light to the center of the room. Tables and desks made from the stone floor itself dotted the room, with chairs being the only wooden furniture I could spot. About half the sages could inhabit this space without making it feel too cramped. Parchment, scrolls, musical instruments, wine bottles, flower vases, and paintings of ships, animals, and the like occupied the living area. I thought it pretty snug, all in all.

  Several sages headed down the narrow left or right halls after hanging their sopping cloaks on metal hooks near the entrance. Watching them go, Quandell said, “Some of us have night shifts to rest up for. How wakeful are you and your companions? We have a few spare rooms you may rest in.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine for now.”

  “Me too,” said Clarissa. “By the way, just so we won’t cause any misunderstandings, are there any rooms we aren’t allowed into? Rooms with priceless dragon knight artifacts, for instance?”

  “That room cannot be entered by normal means, madam.”

  Stomping his leather enwrapped foot on the floor, Ghevont asked, “Is it underground? If not, your temple is over a dangerously hollowed out cavity.”

  “No, the room is indeed below us. What is your name again?”

  “Ghevont. My surname is not well-regarded by many, so I don’t say it.”

  “I see. Well, Master Ghevont, you have a good ear to sense the hollow ring of the basement.”

  “Actually, master sage, I used a recently learned technique taught to me by Alslana’s best earthen specialists. Every few steps I release a pulse of prana from my feet and wait to ‘hear’ back from the ground. Though I suppose years living in a fort’s basement has also given me a knack for perceiving the underground world. If you consider that-”

  “Master Hermoon,” I said. “It might not be in your nature, but start talking anytime you want the scholar to cease his expositions. He’ll otherwise judge your politeness to mean interest. And don’t worry about offending him. In fact, I don’t think he can be.”

  “It would actually be fascinating to experience a subject hitting one of my nerves,” said Ghevont.

  “I’ll someday help you with that.” I sat down on a presented chair and told Quandell, “I noticed you didn’t leave anyone to watch the rune.”

  Grunting as he sat on his own seat, the sage replied, “Not a human, no. The thelki, however, will make a ruckus if they see the rune brighten without any of us there. Now then, are you hungry? We can have a nice fruit salad ready in moments.”

  “Sure, I’ll eat. Where do you get your food? I didn’t think a large garden could grow well up here.”

  “You’d be surprised, but yes, nearly everything we get is as an offering from Sokomasi villagers. It’s been that way for generations. In exchange, we visit during the Solstice Festival and perform the solstice ritual that asks for Tahlous’ protection. The children always love seeing the thelki.”

  “Asking for Tahlous’ protection appears to work,” said Clarissa. “It looks very peaceful up here.”

  “Well, it helps to have the immense Imperial Forest and its mountains guarding our west and south. Dracera’s armies take care of everywhere else.”

  “Dracera’s own people can present the problem,” I pointed out.

  “True, but attempts at infiltrating the temple are rare. Most Dracerans know that our thelki make excellent sentries. About ten years ago a so-called master thief could only get as far as halfway up this pillar before a thelki smelled him out.”

  “What happened to him?” asked Clarissa.

  “A group of us surrounded him on our thelki and knocked him off the cliff. We caught him before he hit the ground, but I imagine he was sentenced to death shortly after being handed off to Sokomasi guardsmen. The penalty for trespassing on our grounds is hanging, after all.” Clarissa rubbed her neck. “I know, I know, but the laws are not my own, and I suppose they do deter more foolish attempts.”

  “Dashay,” said Ghevont with a randomly flamboyant voice, “What will happen to your students with you here?”

  “Oh, they’ll be fine. Master Hermoon will send a sage to c
heck on them from time to time. Besides, I sometimes give them a break from myself when I know my guidance begins to sound more like reprimands.”

  “That’s i-impossible, madam! Nothing coming from your melodious voice can sound like reproofs! Just as the mere sight of you inspires painters to paint and singers to sing!”

  “Lower your voice, Ghevont,” I advised. “She can hear your compliments just fine at a normal tone.”

  “Compliments? They are mere statements of fact, Mercer.”

  “I don’t think Marcela would say the same, honest scholar,” teased Clarissa.

  The next couple of hours were dominated by Clarissa and Ghevont recounting parts of the journey that led us here, which was not done in strict chronological order. Both of my companions seemed to flourish in the nonthreatening environment the sages presented. One woman in particular brought out Ghevont’s social persona more than I had ever seen it. He took the initiative to start and end stories, and bragged about his accomplishments. Since the thelki summoners seemed as well-versed in social situations as the scholar was, his stumbles and babble were more easily forgiven.

  After getting encouraging hints that the sages wouldn’t loathe her condition, Clarissa admitted her vampiric nature, making sure to emphasize that she only drank animal blood. Ghevont and I championed her tame nature, of course. The timid sages were unsettled at first, but Eloise and Ning warmed up to her quickly, easing the others back into the conversation. Even if a few of the sages weren’t exactly thrilled with having a vampire here, I knew their docile nature would not have them act anything but affable with her.

  My fruit bowl tasted good, but I ironically did not enjoy the pink-skinned, white flesh bits that once formed a whole dragon fruit. My stuffed stomach, the tranquilizing background chatter, and my drying, warming body had me dozing off at some point. I still stayed semi-aware of my surroundings, except my senses were lowered to their weakest possible level. I forced myself awake when my own snore startled me, which prompted laughter from Clarissa and a few of the sages.

  When I woke myself up, Quandell said, “The rain is sure to have passed by now. Are you up for learning to fly?”