Destruction of a God

by I. K. Bartlett

  Swarim recoiled in horror, as he saw the massive army, but he then peered into the distance and saw the trail of Mogya, which he had been following, leading to a gargantuan circular wall in the centre of the plains a few miles away from the snaking army.

  As he drew closer, he stared, aghast at what he saw. Sitting huddled against the bars of two large prisons, made from crystal, were the Ancient ones and Ciqala. Gwion’s best friend, the youngest, but most powerful of the Wuzens was still trying to fight his way out of the cage, but every time he crashed against the bars, lightning formed around him and threw him backwards.

  Swarim tried to force his way towards the wall, but a thick mist descended on him, trying to snare him. Swarim reversed his flight and fled from the evil fog, managing to escape just before it clasped him. He focused his energy on Ratora and forced himself towards her.

  As he managed to escape, he heard the same terrible voice, as he had heard coming from Artir’s mouth, growling, “You may escape now Dragon, but we’ll meet again and next time you and your family won’t fare so well. Bray of Brehatch’s son will try regaining your crystal, but he will fail, and you will all be one-step closer to bending your knee to me. The only beings with the knowledge to free the crystal are the Ancient ones and the Wuzen called Ciqala. I have them caged, so I look forward to seeing you fall.”

  A shudder of fear traced its way down Swarim’s spine, as he opened his eyes and immense fatigue swept over him, as he glanced at Ratora. She was struggling with exhaustion as well. Smiling weakly she said, “I forgot how hard it is to use Mogya when you’re as small as a human.”

  Swarim tried to force a smile, but the events he had just seen scared him too much and all he managed was a grimace.

  He then glanced across at Gwena and almost in a whisper said, “You told us that Gwion was the only one who can heal the crystal.” He paused briefly and then asked, “Is there nobody else?”

  Gwena, who was now sitting on a chair by the bed, shook her head and replied, “I don’t think so.”

  Suddenly, Artir groaned and woke up. He looked around the room in panic, his eyes growing wider as he noticed Ratora and Swarim in human form; he did not recognise them. He calmed slightly when he saw Gwena sitting opposite him. Smiling weakly he asked, “What has been happening Lady Gwena? I don’t remember much.”

  Gwena smiled back at the Prince and replied, “Merihim had been controlling you for ten years. He made your parents ill and nearly ruined their kingdom.”

  Ratora chuckled as Artir blanched and said, “Gwena you make things so simple.” She then turned to the Prince and continued, “Don’t fear Prince Artir, your people will be told that Merihim stole your soul and has been using you to further its own evil needs.”

  Artir peered at the beautiful blonde woman and asked, “Who are you my lady? your beauty defies my eyes yet your voice is so familiar.”

  Swarim chuckled and replied, “She is Ratora and I am Swarim your Royal Highness.”

  Artir gawped, as he heard this and was about to speak, but went quiet as the bedroom door burst open. The Palace Guardsman, who had been standing outside ran in and looking straight at Artir said, “Highness, Duke Bray Surgerson, Duke Rumar of Url and General Avrit are in the Palace. They are waiting in the throne room.”

  Artir nodded and then, recovering his composure, stood up. He moved towards the door and replied, “Well I shall have to host them then if my parents are indisposed.”

  With this, he rushed out of the room. Gwena looked at the two Dragons with amusement twinkling in her eyes. She stood up, as they peered back at her, and said, “Let’s get after him before my father kills him.”

  Swarim and Ratora chuckled and then followed Gwena as she made her way out of the bedroom. They then turned left, before making their way down the plush carpeted corridor. At the end of the corridor was a staircase, which led down to the throne room. The three companions charged down these - taking them two at a time. Very soon, they were standing by the rear entrance to the throne room, with the dining room, which Bazil had used as the command office when the city was under siege, behind them.

  Gwena opened the door and rushed into the room just in time to see Tam grabbing Artir and pinning him to the wall closest to the crystal. Gwena sprinted towards the large dark skinned warrior and called, “Leave him; it is not his fault that things have been as they have. Merihim has been controlling him.”

  With this, Tam released the Prince, but kept his sword drawn as he glanced at Bray with uncertainty on his face. Bray peered at Gwena for a second and, daring to trust her, said, “Leave him Tam.” He then turned to Gwion, who was standing by the crystal and said, “Do your thing my boy.”

  Gwion stepped towards the crystal, which was now more stone than semi-precious jewel, and placed his hands on it. He allowed Mogya to rage through his body and then concentrated on the damage. He forced his Mogya into the crystal, but it would not go. It seemed to Gwion as if a solid wall was stopping him.

  He stepped back; his Mogya burning in his eyes, and then tried again. Once again, Mogya rushed out of his hands and hit the crystal, making it glow brightly, but as before Gwion’s power could not penetrate its damaged surface.

  Swarim’s body sagged, as he whispered, “Merihim was right. We are lost.”

  At that moment, the air in the throne room darkened slightly and then it began to twinkle. A mirage of colours suddenly erupted next to the crystal and a strange shape began to materialise. As Gwion gaped in surprise, the candles brightened and Elemi flickered into view. The old man staggered slightly and then, once he had caught his balance, stretched. He grinned at Gwena and then at the gawping Gwion, before saying, “Good to meet you Gwion, I’m Elemi, brother to the Ancient ones and son to the Great Mother.” He winked and continued, “Let me help you with this.”

  Gwion shut his mouth with a start and almost whispered, “I thought you were dead.”

  Elemi glanced at Gwena and smiled as he replied, “I’m hearing that quite a lot recently.”

  Gwena was about to speak, but Elemi waved her away and grabbed Gwion by the wrist. Bray moved to intercept him, but the old man merely smiled at him and said, “We’ll need your strength as well Bray.” With this, Elemi clasped Bray’s arm and pulled him towards the crystal. He then turned to Gwena, Ratora and Swarim, who were all gazing in awe at the Ancient one. Grinning he said, “Come on then, the three of you need to help as well. Don’t just stand there being lazy.”

  The three powerful beings immediately sprang into action with the speed of a berated child. They joined Bray and Gwion, next to the crystal, before placing their hands on its grey surface. Elemi waited until the five of them were touching it and then stepped forward. He reached out and held the back of Gwion’s head, as he said, “Gwion do exactly as you did before.” Then turning to the others he said, “Allow your power to enter the crystal, but concentrate it on the area around where Gwion is touching.”

  As Elemi nodded, the five magical beings released their power. The awesome might of Mogya raced into the crystal, crashing against the same mystical wall, which Gwion had encountered earlier. The waves of Mogya smashed against the grey crystal like an angry tide, but it still held.

  Rumar and Tam stared in surprise, as suddenly, Elemi disappeared. Raeywin patted them on the back and said, “Sit down guys, I think we are in for a long wait.”

  As the three friends sat down on a bench in the cloistered area of the throne room, Gwion pushed even harder at the crystal. The wall of magic protecting the crystal was so strong that he was slowly beginning to give up, but suddenly, Elemi appeared inside the crystal. Slowly and deliberately, he reached out and placed his hands flat against the inside of the crystal. The Mogya, which until then had been pooling in a golden puddle, suddenly flashed and rushed into the crystal through Elemi’s hands. It raced through him and then flooded out of his back, infusing the damaged crystal with its might.

  Elemi stood stoically, as Mogya raged through him.
As he waited, he seemed to become less substantial. He turned around and seemed to float inside the crystal; as Mogya healed it. The five companions were growing weaker, as the semi-precious jewel drained them of their power, but as the stone began to glow and take on a crystalline appearance once again, Elemi clapped his hands. The Mogya flow from the five magical warriors immediately ceased and they toppled over. Elemi smiled once and managed to say, “Mogya meant this for me.” He then vanished, as the crystal stopped glowing.

  Raeywin, Tam, Rumar and Galivan rushed across to help the five brave souls, who had helped save the crystal. At that moment, the throne room doors opened and the Royal couple marched in, wearing their full ceremonial garments, as serenely, as if they had never been ill. Bazil took one look at the five exhausted warriors and called, “Get my healers and take these five to bed.”

  Almost as soon as he had finished talking, the Royal healers were sprinting into the room. They grabbed Bray and placed him on a stretcher. They then rushed out of the room to take him to the infirmary. As they raced out of the throne room, a small section of army medics entered, to carry out Bazil’s orders. However, as they reached Swarim, he managed to raise himself up and say, “Take my wife and I outside. Lay us down on the street and we’ll be fine.”

  Bazil stared in surprise at the strange yet striking man, but understanding leapt into his eyes, as Raeywin said, “They’re Ratora and Swarim. They took human form to save us.”

  Bazil nodded and smiled, as four medics carried Gwena and Gwion from the room. He pointed to another two healers, then at Swarim and said, “Do as he asks.”

  As two medics made their way towards the two Dragons, they clambered slowly to their feet. When the healers were close enough, Swarim and Ratora draped their arms across the men’s’ shoulders.

  Once they were positive that the two Dragons were strong enough to walk, the medics helped them out of the room and down the stairs to the main entrance.

  The four of them moved out of the Palace and limped down the stairs with Bazil, Artir and Raeywin following. As soon as their feet touched the cobbled square, the two Dragons released their grip on the two healers.

  They closed their eyes and emitted a low musical hum. Their bodies began to grow and elongate, as a bright light shone from them. The glow grew so intense that all those, who had followed, had to shield their eyes.

  When the light finally died down, and Bazil could open his eyes, he saw that both Dragons were back to their rightful shapes, looming over them at their full height. Bazil bowed his head and said, “Once again, my Kingdom is in your debt. Consider yourselves free of the bond to the Royal house of Anlam. You may count yourselves friends to our people.”

  Swarim shook his head violently, and replied, “Thank you, but when Bray wakes up tell him that I’ll be back. He and his son Gwion must travel into the future to free those captured by Merihim. I don’t know how to kill Merihim, but I’m certain that Ciqala will know. Bray must get to him and find out, because if he does not, I fear our future is in jeopardy. For now we must go and rest.”

  Ratora bobbed her head once and then said, “I thank you for your kind words and will enjoy our new found freedom. However, please know that we’ve always counted ourselves as friends. From this day forward me and mine will still help Anlam, but because we wish to, not because we have to.”

  With this, the two Dragons unfurled their immense wings and shot into the sky. Without looking back, the two exhausted Dragons flew towards a distant cloudbank, which had split and formed a door. Within seconds, the two of them were gone.

  Bazil looked at Artir, who was still gaping after the Dragons, and asked, “So my son, what has been happening while your mother and I have been sleeping.”

  A guilty look crept over the Prince’s face as he replied, “I’m not entirely sure.”

  Bazil glared angrily at his son and was about to ask him why he did not know, but Raeywin cut him off by saying, “From what I understand, it’s not his fault. If we wait until Gwena is awake, she will be able to explain.” She then wrapped her arms around Bazil’s shoulders, before guiding him past Artir and up the stairs.

  As they passed Artir, Raeywin winked at him, which drew a chuckle from Galivan. She then led Bazil and his small entourage back to the throne room, where Kayla was busy organising the Palace Guard into cleaning parties to sort out the mess left by Merihim’s troops.

  Travelling beyond

  Having just finished dinner, Bray stood up and marched out of the dining room to find Bazil, leaving Raeywin staring after him. It had been two weeks since they had marched into Velumia and he was getting fidgety. As he neared the throne room, the two blue armoured guards threw up smart salutes. Bray returned them loosely and then stepped through the newly repaired door.

  As he entered the throne room, Bray could see that Bazil was deep in conversation with Duke Eranil, a snivelling fop from a small village in the north. Even though only two weeks ago he had been serving the Prince’s silver-armoured warriors, he was not one to miss an opportunity. He had arrived a day after Swarim had sent Merihim fleeing, trying to gain favour for his village.

  Bazil noticed that Bray had come into the room and sighed in relief; the endless politicking bored him. He politely made his excuses to Eranil and stood up. As one of the Palace guards escorted the balding, overweight Duke out of the throne room, Bazil beckoned for Bray to approach the throne.

  He then sighed, rolled his eyes and, as the door closed behind Eranil, said, “I hate people like that, they seriously believe that I should promote them or give them favoured treatment just because they can say the right thing at the correct time. They never believe that talent or hard work should be rewarded.”

  Bray chuckled and replied, “Well that’s why I’m here. I’ve been sitting around your city for far too long. Gwion and I need to be on our way.”

  Bazil shook his head and stood up. Brushing down the front of his blue silk robes, trying to rub the creases out of them, he said, “I can’t let you go Bray. The Dragons have not returned.”

  Bray bristled at this and growled, “Blow them. I don’t need them for what I need to do.”

  Bazil held up his arms in surrender and then, in a conciliatory voice, replied, “Hey, hey, hey, steady there. I know that you don’t, but I need to ask them if there is a way for you to travel the paths of time without tiring yourself so much that you wouldn’t be able to fight if necessary.”

  Bray went silent for a minute and then in a calmer voice, said, “Well why not push the crystal on the throne.”

  Bazil glanced back at the huge Royal chair and on seeing the green crystal, he paused, stroking his cheek thoughtfully. Shaking his head, he said, “I can’t, it is only supposed to be for emergencies.”

  Bray growled quietly, but kept the words he wanted to say to himself, as he said, “You great wet blanket, what do you think this is? From what Gwena and Swarim have told us, if we don’t react soon, we’ll have the biggest emergency that the planet has ever seen.”

  Bazil only had to think briefly, before spinning around and pressing the crystal in the arm of the throne. Once he had released it, he nodded and said, “Well let’s go and wait in the courtyard, they should be here soon.”

  With this, he strolled casually, through the cloistered corridor, towards the double doors on the far side of the throne room and out onto the stairs beyond. He checked over his shoulder once, to see if Bray was following and then raced down the steps, taking them two at a time.

  As the two of them pushed out of the ornate, glass doors, which led outside, Bazil turned to the closer of the two guards, standing outside and said, “Send word that Lord Gwion Surgerson is to join us in the gardens.”

  Hearing his command, the blue armoured warrior nodded, saluted him and marched into the Palace, hurrying to carry out his King’s orders. As he disappeared, Bazil and Bray turned right and strolled down the small path, which led to the gardens outside the south wing. Just as they stepped into
the well-tended grounds - which the Royal gardeners had put every ounce of their talent into - Gwion rushed through the newly painted, green door, which led from the kitchens into the garden.

  Showing Bazil that he had inherited his father’s respect for authority, he halted and asked, “What do you want?”

  Bazil chuckled and then replied, “Not I young Gwion; your father is bored and wants to head towards his death before he’s ready.”

  Gwion rolled his eyes and after glancing at his father, who merely shrugged, said, “If you mean we are going to do what Swarim says we have to; then it’s about time.”

  At this, Bazil sighed and with an imploring look, replied, “At least pretend that you respect me Gwion.”

  Gwion glanced at his father with a curious look and then turned back to Bazil as he replied, “I do respect you my Liege you’re the King after all, but I’m sorry, if you keep me hanging around doing bugger all for too long then I’ll let you know about your stupidity.”

  Before Bazil had time to reply, the sound of gigantic flapping wings distracted him. The three warriors glanced up and saw Primero coming into land. The mighty, black and gold Dragon alighted on the pebbled path, which ran down the centre of the garden, as if he weighed no more than a ballerina.

  Primero glanced down at the three warriors and before they had chance to speak, said, “Either Merihim has found a way to manipulate the three of you, or Bray has become bored and wants to go and kick its tail.”