Tales from the New Earth: Volume One

by Thompson, J. J.

“Let's see now. Your run-in with the drakes in Moscow excited them quite a bit. Good job there, by the way. Um, your work with the men who contracted lycanthropy. Beautifully done. And now, this attack on the dwarven capital. I believe my elvish colleagues were caught off-guard by that one.”

  “They're not the only ones,” the wizard muttered. “That's why I've called you, by the way.”

  “I know. And it's why I was so cranky when I answered. Sorry about that.”

  “Don't sweat it. Old men get testy, I've heard,” Simon said with a grin.

  Daniel moved the mirror he was holding, lifted his free hand and shook a finger at him.

  “Watch it, boy. Don't disrespect your elders.”

  They both laughed and then the older man became solemn again.

  “So what do you want to know?”

  “Anything you can tell me. I mean, I've gotten used to the idea of dragons. I've fought the undead. And now I personally know a pair of reformed werewolves. But demons? Really? It seems that the dark gods' bag of tricks is endless.”

  Daniel snorted.

  “Hardly. I think they're panicking.”

  Simon laughed in disbelief.

  “Panicking? For what? In case it escaped your notice, old buddy, we're on the ropes here. A handful of humans against how many dragons? Hundreds? Thousands? I doubt that panic is even in their vocabulary.”

  “Isn't it?”

  Daniel turned his head and the wizard heard him shuffling through some papers.

  “My friends on the counsel drew me up a few pictures of the 'demons' that have laid siege to the dwarven capital. Here, take a look.”

  Simon watched as his friend held a sheet of parchment in front of his mirror, and he leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the glass, enthralled by what he saw.

  The picture had been drawn in exquisite detail and was richly colored. It showed the figure of a creature, standing on two legs, arms raised above its head. Ascending from its shoulder-blades were massive wings, webbed like a bat's.

  The face was vaguely human-like, but its gaping mouth was lined with row upon row of pointed teeth, almost like a shark's. It had practically no nose, but its eyes were enormous and a sickly yellow color, like runny egg yokes. Above its eyes a pair of jagged horns rose up and back over its bald skull. It was terrifying.

  What was even more jarring was that the monster wasn't red, like Simon's imagination had assumed it would be, but slate gray, almost white, the color of a drowned corpse.

  He squinted, trying to pick out every detail. Its skin, something about its skin. It was...scaled? Yes, the entire surface was a network of interlocking scales, some scarred, others chipped or broken, as if the creature had seen many battles.

  “So that's a demon,” Simon said shakily.

  Daniel dropped the picture with a sound of disgust.

  “Of course not. There are no such things as demons,” he said scathingly. “Leave your old religions and fairy tales back in our lost world, my friend and attend to what I just showed you. Here, look again.”

  He held up the picture once more and the wizard looked at it in confusion, wondering what he was supposed to be seeing.

  “Don't you recognize it?” Daniel asked. He sounded a little exasperated.

  “Still cranky,” Simon said and his friend laughed reluctantly.

  “Yes, sorry. But damn it, man. Look at it!”

  I'm frigging looking, Simon thought, but what am I supposed to be seeing?

  He examined the picture yet again.

  Okay, he says there are no demons. So if this isn't a demon, then what the hell is it?

  His eyes flicked from feature to feature. Leathern wings? Check. Fangs and horns? Check again. Scaly skin.

  He jerked back abruptly. Wait. Scales? The thing has scales. You have got to be kidding me.

  “It's a goddamn dragon, isn't it?” he whispered in shock.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!” Daniel crowed triumphantly as he dropped the parchment. “Took you long enough to figure it out though.”

  “Sorry, your honor,” Simon said sarcastically. “I didn't realize that I was on the witness stand. But, how is that possible? That thing is humanoid! And why would the Chaos lords do this?”

  “I have no idea how it's possible. They are gods, after all. As to why though, that should be obvious. According to the elves, these things are about a dozen feet tall. Unlike a dragon that is fifty feet long or more, they can move underground with no problem at all. They retain all of a dragon's powers and strengths in a more compact form.”

  Simon was having a hard time accepting what he had seen. Dragons walking like people? It was an abomination.

  But something else was bothering him.

  “They're white dragons, aren't they? That damned primal white dragon is responsible for this.”

  “Not exactly. Oh I'm sure it's involved, but there are more than this one type besieging the dwarves.”

  He lifted another drawing for Simon to examine.

  It was a second full-color illustration of a humanoid monster. Very similar to the first, this one's horns were twisted, rising in spirals over its head. It was blood red and glowing with heat. It held an enormous sword in its hands, the blade engulfed in flames.

  “A red dragon?” Simon asked weakly.

  “Yes. And, just to complete the trifecta, here's one more.”

  Another drawing was held up and Simon recoiled from the image.

  Like the first two, it was a winged creature walking on two legs. But the skin of this monster was an earthy brown color and seemed to be oozing with slime, trailing behind it like a huge slug. Its scales were slick with the mucus and yet it almost seemed to be rotting, like old meat wetly decomposing in a swamp. It was nauseating .

  “Cripes. A brown dragon? I've never seen one of those before.”

  Daniel put down the paper and nodded grimly.

  “Lucky you. They are truly horrible, even for dragons. They attack with a blast of fluid that eats away anything it touches.”

  “Acid?”

  “For all intents and purposes, yes. So all of the remaining dragon types are represented in this siege.”

  “How many are we talking about here? Dozens?”

  “Hundreds, my friend,” Daniel told him with a weary sigh. “Hundreds. I will say that the dwarves are more than holding their own. The problem is that they have no reinforcements. Every warrior they lose weakens them, whereas the dragons are replenishing their losses constantly. It is a war of attrition and the dragons will win, eventually.”

  Simon stood up and walked outside. The tower felt oppressive suddenly and he wanted to breathe the fresh air.

  “So what can we do?” he asked as he wandered around the grounds beside the perimeter wall. The grass was very green here and the air rich with the smells of spring.

  “Short of cutting off their supply of reinforcements, there isn't anything anyone can do. Shandon Ironhand and his people will put up a valiant fight, no doubt. But in the end, the dwarves will be vanquished and become a simple footnote in the history books. If anyone is around to write them one day.”

  “Funny,” the wizard said. “The Daniel I remember wasn't a quitter. Has getting old so quickly changed you? Or is it some elven taint that has suddenly made you so weak?”

  “What?”

  The old man in the mirror sat up and glared at Simon.

  “How dare you! I may be old in body, but I will never be weak.”

  “Good. Glad to see that I can still get a reaction when I poke the bear,” Simon said with a sly grin.

  Daniel hesitated and then chuckled ruefully.

  “Fine, you got me. But I'm certainly not giving up, old friend. We need a plan, some way to at least give the dwarves a period of respite, so they can rebuild their walls and defenses. They were caught off-guard by the original attack and weren't fully prepared. But if they could regroup and lock up their cities properly, I believe that the drag
ons could bash themselves against the dwarven walls for years to no effect. Their magical canon can knock those creatures out of the air quite easily, or so I'm told, so the monsters have been attacking on the ground instead.”

  “Hmm, so we just need to buy them some time,” Simon murmured thoughtfully.

  He had made his way through the back gate and was standing on the shore of the lake. He sat down in the grass near the water and looked at the ripples running across its surface.

  “Do you know how these dragonoids are getting down to the capital city in the first place?”

  “Gates,” Daniel told him. “Don't look so surprised. You saw the primal green dragon use a Gate last year, remember?”

  Simon nodded absently as he recalled the massive hole in the sky that had unleashed the green dragon. A horrific sight.

  “The primals can all cast Gate spells. Obviously they are doing so to transport their forces to the battle.”

  “I'm surprised they don't just teleport all of the beasts into the middle of the city. The war would be over in an hour.”

  “They can't,” Daniel said a bit smugly. “Dwarves can block magic of that kind.”

  The wizard recalled the time he had tried to contact Shandon using a Magic Mirror spell. The dwarf had blocked the spell until he knew who was calling.

  “Well, that's something anyway.”

  He lay back on a forearm, holding the mirror steady so that he could keep his friend in sight.

  “So, as I see it, there are only two ways to slow or stop the dragon attacks.”

  “And they are?” Daniel asked.

  “Block the Gate spells long enough for the dwarves to regroup and rebuild, or cut off the supply of dragons at the source.”

  “At the source? What source?”

  Simon raised an eyebrow.

  “You mean you don't know? Primal dragons replenish their ranks by hatching eggs. There are a finite number of them, although how many I don't know. If we could find those eggs and destroy them, there would be no new dragons to mutate into those horrors.”

  “Well, well. You learn something new every day, I suppose. No, I didn't know.”

  Daniel frowned and stared off at something that Simon couldn't see.

  While he waited, the wizard turned and watched the three horses grazing at the far end of the lake. Sunshine was definitely getting bigger, but her coat shone like molten gold and she looked healthy.

  “Do you have any idea where these eggs are being kept?”

  Simon turned back to look in the mirror.

  “None. But Aeris is up north, scouting. I've been hoping that he'll come across them, or the primal white dragon. I need to know where that creature is. Maybe I'll call him after this and ask him to concentrate on searching for the eggs.”

  “That's an awfully big area to cover,” Daniel said doubtfully.

  “Yeah, I know. He's been gone for weeks now. He's using that amulet I had you examine, but it's not been very much help. Maybe you could talk to the Elders and ask if they have any idea where the eggs could be. Not just the white dragon's eggs, but the red and brown as well.”

  “Oh, I will, I assure you. I'll also ask about a way to perhaps block the Gate spells beyond the walls of the dwarven capital. They may have some thoughts.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Simon stood up and brushed loose pieces of grass off of his robe.

  “One last thing, dear friend.”

  The wizard stopped in mid-motion. He peered at Daniel's face. The man's voice had changed and was now tight with worry.

  “What is it?”

  “I...was hesitant about sharing this last picture with you. I'm not sure whether seeing it will help or hurt your resolve. But I refuse to hold back any information from you, so...”

  “What are you talking about? What information?”

  His friend locked eyes with Simon for a long moment, then picked up a piece of parchment and held it in front of the mirror.

  “The...dragonoids, as you called them, are not alone. They have allies joining in the siege of the dwarves.”

  “Allies? What?”

  The wizard looked at the drawing and hissed between his teeth.

  At first he thought it was a picture of some sort of bizarre statue made of glass. Vaguely humanoid in shape, the figure seemed to be made of jagged pieces of semi-translucent diamond. It was all sharp edges and hard corners.

  There were four limbs and a head, but the face was featureless. It held a long shard of evil-looking yellow crystal in its hands and the artist had drawn it running with the weapon raised over its head.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “You don't recognize it? Hmm. Well then, would it help if I told you that it isn't made of minerals or rock, but of ice?”

  Simon blinked rapidly, his mind groping for an answer.

  Daniel dropped the picture and then turned his mirror so that he could watch his friend's expression.

  Kronk's face came to mind suddenly. His pebbly little features, his limbs made of small pieces of rock and stone fused together.

  And then the light dawned and Daniel nodded grimly.

  “You know, don't you?” he asked.

  “Kronk was right,” Simon said, shaking his head helplessly. “He tried to warn me and I didn't take him seriously. But he was right.”

  His friend simply waited quietly.

  “It's a water elemental, isn't it?”

  “Yes, my friend. A water elemental. They have taken sides in the war between dragons and the world of men and dwarves, and they've chosen the dragons.”

  “But why?” Simon asked plaintively. “Why would they do that?”

  “A good question. There has to be some sort of incentive. Why don't you ask one of them directly, see what they tell you.”

  “Oh, I intend to,” Simon told him grimly. “And she'd better have some damned good answers.”

  Daniel closed his eyes tightly for a brief moment, looking very tired.

  “I'll speak with the elders and glean whatever I can from them. Meanwhile, you investigate on your end and call me back when you can. Remember, time moves faster there, so be patient. It may take longer to find some answers here.”

  “Will do. Thanks for the information. I'd rather know the truth than be protected from it. And it's good to see you, as always.”

  “I'm glad you called, old friend,” Daniel said warmly. “Sorry I was a bit short with you. I'm just worried about both the dwarves and what's left of humanity.”

  “No sweat, Daniel. I am too.” He winked into the mirror. “But maybe the next time I call, you can say hello first and then chew me out, okay?”

  “Deal,” the man replied with a laugh. “Take care of yourself.”

  “You as well.”

  And Simon canceled the spell and headed back to the tower. The smile faded from his lips as he thought about the new information that Daniel had passed on to him.

  Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse.

  Chapter 22

  Kronk met up with the wizard as he was walking into the tower. He followed him to the kitchen table, jumped up and then stared at him, his little red eyes narrowed.

  “What has happened, master?” he asked with obvious concern. “You look worried.”

  “Am I that obvious?” Simon responded wearily.

  “Perhaps only to me, master. What is the problem?”

  “I talked to Daniel after speaking with Clara. I thought maybe the elves would know something about demons. After all, they are the oldest of the races.”

  The little guy nodded in approval.

  “An excellent idea, master. And what did you learn?”

  Simon told the elemental what his friend had relayed to him about the dragons. As usual, Kronk listened attentively without interrupting.

  “That is interesting, master,” the little guy said. “That would explain why my people know nothing about demons. They are, after all, only stories.”


  “Apparently. But these altered dragons are quite real. And I'm not really sure what can be done to stop them.”

  “Have you tried contacting the dwarf, Shandon Ironhand, directly? At least you could tell him that he is fighting dragons, not demons.”

  “I thought of that. I just assumed that he would be blocking all forms of magic, in case it was an attack of some sort.”

  Kronk shrugged.

  “In that case, master, what would it hurt to try?”

  Simon picked up the mirror with an embarrassed laugh.

  “Good point. Okay, let's see if anyone's home.”

  He pictured Shandon's face in as much detail as he could. Then he cast the Magic Mirror spell again.

  The handle of the mirror became cool in his palm and then cold. A few seconds later, Simon dropped it with a yelp and rubbed his hand against his chest.

  “What's wrong, master?”

  “The strangest thing. The mirror got too cold to hold on to. Weird. That's never happened before.”

  “Ah, I see,” Kronk said, nodding wisely.

  “You see? You see what?”

  “Hostile magic, master. Something is blocking your attempt at communication, but it is not the dwarf.”

  “Really? How do you know that?”

  The little guy smiled a bit.

  “Because, as I've told you before, master, I listen. The old wizards had no qualms about speaking in front of those like me. I learned a great deal from simply pretending to be as stupid and soulless as they thought I was.”

  Simon pushed his hair off of his face with an irritated gesture.

  “You know, I'm really beginning to despise those wizards from ancient times. Bunch of arrogant...”

  “Why despise those long dead, master?” Kronk asked curiously. “They were what they were, and now they are no more.”

  “You know, Kronk, you are the most easy-going, level-headed person I know. How do you do it?”

  “It comes from living a long time, master. How long can one hold a grudge? Centuries? Millennia? I have learned to let all of that go.”

  The wizard shook his head.

  “Amazing. Anyway, I'll take your word for it. So I'm being blocked somehow. Huh.”

  Something else occurred to him.