Destruction of a God

by I. K. Bartlett

  He then turned to all four of them and said, “I don’t know what you have been through to make you all rush off and as you haven’t told me, I’ll not ask, but you make sure that you look after yourselves.” With this, he about turned and, with the Royal guard surrounding him, rushed back into the Palace, looking up in disgust at the massive rain clouds.

  Galivan took the reins of his horse and thanked the groom; he then led the huge beast outside and waited until the others were ready. Climbing into his saddle with practised ease, he glanced at Peg and said, “If you allow me, I’ll ride with you. I would very much like to meet the next Queen of the Nunnupi.”

  With the proud smile of a new father, Peg nodded and almost too eagerly replied, “Of course you can Galivan. I would be honoured.”

  As the four riders made their way out of the gate, Lin-Te popped his head out of the guardroom window and called, “Be careful, the Zandors are in full migration from the Aquin Mountains.”

  Turning towards the Chintwene warrior, Bray replied, “Thank you.”

  As he guided his large black horse out of the gate, Gwion asked, “I didn’t know that the Zandors migrated.”

  Galivan turned towards him and replied, “They move north, to the Dwarven mines when winter approaches.”

  Gwion nodded as he heard this but said no more, concentrating on riding across the bridge, which spanned the river Vel. Riding in silence for ten minutes, they quickly crossed the charred moor, between Velumia and the forest. They pushed through the Velumian wood and onto the Aquin slopes without incident, but as they rode into the Mountains, Galivan halted. He slid from his saddle and knelt down. After glancing around the area for a few seconds, he looked up at Peg and Bray in turn, before saying, “The Zandors passed through here recently.”

  Bray’s face creased with concern, as he peered around. He then looked down at the Elf and then quietly asked, “How long ago?”

  Galivan shook his head slowly, as he stood up and then replied, “I can’t say for sure, but probably within the last few hours.”

  With a grim face, Peg pointed to a small track a little higher up and in a lowered voice, said, “In that case let’s ride higher.” He paused briefly and then continued, “I know that the Zandors don’t like the cold, so they would never travel on the upper slopes.”

  Seeing the sense in this, Bray drove his horse towards the track. He knew that the Zandors would not only try to kill them, but would use them as food, so having Gwion with him gave him a little more to think about than just himself; his nerves on edge, Bray kept glancing around him.

  Galivan, who had now remounted, drove his horse past Bray, quickly overtaking him. He reached the thin, muddy track and halted, sniffing deeply as he did. Pulling a face, Galivan turned to Bray and was about to speak, but his words halted in his throat, as a Zandor spear soared past him, nicking his ear, before thudding into the ground behind him.

  The Elven warrior immediately dug his heels into his horse, driving the now panicking mare into a gallop. With the thought of the Zandors in his mind, he careered along the precarious path, with the others hurrying behind him, gripping with his knees to stop his horse’s momentum from spilling him from his saddle.

  Gwion’s heart was beating so loudly that he was sure that all around could hear it, but as his horse leapt after the others, he risked a glance over his shoulder and balked as he saw a horde of Zandors charging up the slope to the west of him. As he clung to his saddle for dear life, the mantis-headed creatures sped towards him, seemingly moving faster than his horse. Panic built in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him, as he watched them draw nearer.

  As Gwion gaped in horror, another enemy javelin suddenly shot from the mass of red monsters and grazed Peg’s horse. The injured beast squealed in agony and reared up, spilling the Nunnupi King from his saddle. With the grace of an acrobat, Peg tucked his chin onto his chest and allowed himself to roll forward, as he struck the floor.

  Regaining his feet, he drew his sword and spun to meet his attackers. However, as he prepared to fight, Bray spun his horse around and grabbed him by the back of his jerkin, lifting him to sit in front of him. Bray then flicked his reins to send the stallion galloping back up the mountain, after the others.

  Carrying Peg’s added weight up the slope, proved too much for Bray’s horse and, nearing exhaustion, it slowed to a walk. Bray flicked his reins trying to urge the horse forward, but his efforts were in vain; it had nothing left and failed to respond to his actions. With despair heavy in his heart, Bray slid from his saddle and drew his sword.

  Peg remained on the horse for a moment longer than Bray, using the extra height to peer up the slope after the other two. As he watched them disappear around the bend, he leapt from his saddle and joined Bray on the ground. Watching the Zandors rush towards them, Peg pulled his sword from his scabbard and glanced across at Bray. He then grimaced and through clenched teeth, growled, “Just you and me again.”

  At this, regardless of the danger that they both faced, Bray had to smile. It seemed that his adventures were about to end very similar to how they had started, just he and Peg versus the world. As Bray steeled himself against his fear, a huge dark shadow descended upon the slope. Bray and Peg’s focus was entirely on the Zandors, so when a thick column of fire raged through the mantis like creatures, their hearts leapt in shock. Bray stumbled back, as the heat seared the surrounding countryside and shielded his eyes against the blinding light. Turning away from the flames, the two warriors sprinted up the mountain and along the track that Gwion and Galivan had taken.

  Thick black smoke billowed after them as they ran, making it hard to breath. Bray glanced up, spotting Gwion and Galivan sitting astride their horses, only a few yards away from him. As he calmed his nerves, he noticed that they were staring at something behind him with relief etched on their faces. Turning around to see what they were looking at, Bray grinned. He grabbed Peg’s arm and spun him around.

  Peg glared at Bray in anger and was about to ask him what he was doing, but went silent when he spotted two looming Dragon shapes, obscured by the smoke. They were hovering over the slope where, until a few moments ago, a column of Zandors had been.

  The massive magical beasts let out one last blast of flame and then flew towards the two warriors. Bray’s relief was more than evident as he saw the black and golden body of Primero flying towards him, but his jaw nearly unhinged in surprise as Vif’s white form followed. He looked at Peg in disbelief and then glanced over his shoulder at the other two, who were now riding towards him.

  The two huge Dragons hovered briefly and then with the grace of dancers, landed a few yards away. Bray moved towards them, nearly tripping over his feet, such was his surprise. As he came closer, Primero chuckled and then his deep booming voice asked, “What is the matter Bray?”

  Bray came to a halt and then stammered, “How did you know where to look for Vif?”

  At this Vif sighed and shook her head. She then looked at Bray with mock exasperation in her eyes and said, “Come on Bray, we are Dragons. Ciqala may have sent the others back and made them forget what happened, but we are Dragons. We remember everything.”

  As she finished speaking, Galivan reined in his horse. He nodded to the Dragons, looked at Bray and said, “Surely these things don’t surprise you anymore Bray.”

  Looking slightly abashed, Bray ran his hands through his coarse hair and replied, “I’m a simple man Galivan. At times I forget just what I’ve seen over the years.”

  Hearing this, Gwion laughed and quipped, “At last, he admits that Mother is the clever one.”

  Bray shook his head slowly and then chuckled before saying, “Never tell her that though.”

  With a good-humoured chuckle, Peg patted his friend on the arm and said, “I think she knows Bray.”

  With this, Primero bobbed his head to the north and said, “Bray, your wife and daughter are in Tamlin with Kerril. If you climb onto our backs you will be there within the day, but if y
ou keep riding, you will never beat the snows of winter.”

  Bray glanced across at his stallion and asked, “What about the horses?”

  To this Gwion answered, “You know full well that if you let them loose, they will find their way back to Velumia.”

  Bray rolled his eyes at his son’s tone and then remembering something that he himself had done many years before, he leant down and grabbed a splinter of scorched wood. He then wrote on his saddle, ‘we are fine could not take the horses any further.’

  Bray then moved across to Galivan’s horse and, as the Elf clambered from his saddle, wrote the same. He then tossed the thin sliver of wood to Gwion and said, “Write something that says we are alright.”

  Gwion caught the piece of blackened wood and after pausing for a minute, wrote, ‘We are all fine, but my father, Bray is too old.’

  Galivan saw him write this and burst into laughter. Bray, knowing full well the extent of his sarcastic son’s humour pushed past the Elf, asking, “What has he written?”

  Gwion, however, did not give his father the chance to read his message. He slapped the bay mare on the rump, sending her galloping down the mountain, back towards the capital city with Bray’s stallion following her. Bray placed his hands on his hips and tried to look as if he was sulking, but the effect was ruined, as he leapt out of the way of Galivan’s stampeding horse, which was intent on following Gwion’s down the slope.

  Shaking his head, Bray scowled at his laughing son and then said, “Get on the Dragon, before I brain you.”

  Gwion took a deep breath and then after sticking his tongue out, clambered up onto Primero’s back. As he clambered up the Dragon’s leg, Galivan was trying hard, but failing, to keep a straight face at Gwion’s antics. However, as Bray swiped playfully at his head, he ducked nimbly to one side and scampered up to sit behind Gwion. Bray spun to face the two Dragons as the Elf raced past him and then moved across to Vif. The huge white Dragon bowed her head, more to hide her mirth than anything else, but she also bent her front leg so that he could climb onto her back to sit behind Peg.

  Once Bray was sitting tightly with his legs gripping Vif’s midriff, the two Dragons shot into the air so fast that their passengers felt as if their stomachs were still on the ground. They sped over the highest peaks of the Aquin Mountains and into the thick, cold clouds above. The biting wind nipped at the four warriors, as it whistled past them, forcing tears from their eyes.

  Within a few minutes, the climate grew slightly warmer and they could see that there was no longer any snow below them. However, because they were so high up, the difference was not noticeable and they were still shivering as they hurtled away from the mountains. After a while, the two Dragons banked towards the ground and hurtled down at an incredible speed, drawing screams of terror from all four warriors. As they neared the floor, the two magical lizards flared their wings, bringing themselves to a sudden halt. They hovered just above the rocky ground, surrounded by the trees of The Great Forest, laughing at the queasy noises coming from their passengers.

  With unbelievable agility, the two Dragons landed. Almost in unison, they knelt down, allowing the four companions to clamber off them. Unsteadily, the queasy passengers slid to the floor and took a couple of teetering steps away from the Dragons, before collapsing into a sitting position.

  After a few moments, they had recovered enough to stand without feeling too nauseous. Bray shot a fierce look at the two Dragons and then growled, “Not funny.”

  At this, Primero chuckled and glanced at Vif before saying, “I beg to differ.”

  With this, the two Dragons shot into the air, laughing, and hovered above the four companions. Peg glanced up at them, careful not to let his dizziness make him fall and asked, “Will you not come in and meet my daughter?”

  Vif shook her huge head, as she heard his question and in a soft, honey-dripping voice, replied, “We’ve already met the Princess, but thank you for the offer.”

  Primero then interrupted with a suggestive laugh, as he said, “Besides, we’ve more important things to attend to.”

  Bray laughed quietly, as Vif glowed with embarrassment and then stood with his friends, staring up at the Dragons as they sped into the sky, flying in a beautiful looping dance. Once the two magical beings were out of sight, Peg turned to his friends and with a wide, proud grin, said, “Let’s go and meet my daughter.” With this, he turned towards the mountain behind him and began to walk towards it.

  As the four friends drew closer to the massive, craggy peak, a flurry of lights suddenly appeared and the mystical fog, which always hid Tamlin from view, disappeared, leaving the city in plain sight. Even before they drew near, the heavy portcullis rose and Annap came galloping through the gate with a small section of Nunnupi Cavalry with her. She soon reached the four friends and brought her horse to a skidding halt. After throwing up a smart salute to her King, she exclaimed, “Where have you been? Everybody who is anybody has already been here.”

  Peg returned his General’s salute and then replied, “It’s good to see you too Annap.”

  At this, Annap shook her head and then, just as curt as she always was, said, “Kerril is in the function room with your daughter.” Almost accusingly she then added, “You missed the birth.”

  Peg held his hands up in surrender and answered, “I’m sorry, but important matters needed settling.”

  She did not reply to this, she merely folded her arms and made a harrumphing sound. The other three chuckled, noticing Peg’s exasperation, but they all knew there was nothing he could do to quell her abrasive manner. Therefore, in response to her urgent body language, they sped up and were soon sprinting towards the impressive flag bearing towers of Tamlin. Within a few moments, they were speeding through the city gates and up the stairs towards the Royal suite. As they charged up the stone steps to the landing above, they heard the message, “The King is here,” preceding them.

  By the time they had reached the plush carpeted corridor, which held the Royal function room, the Nunnupi guards had opened the door and were waiting for the four of them, their hands held smartly across their brightly polished breastplates. Excitedly, Peg rushed into the room and ran to his wife, ignoring everybody else. He immediately swept Kerril, who was holding the tiny, snoring Kerreg in her arms, into a gentle, loving embrace. Kerril placed the tiny bundle carefully onto the bed next to her and kissed him passionately.

  Bray, Gwion and Galivan, however halted by the door, their emotions boiling up inside when they saw Rahin turn towards them. As the Elven war leader stepped towards the door, Bray rushed to meet him and picked him up in a tight bear hug. With tears running down his cheeks, he sobbed, “It’s so good to see you.”

  Bewildered, Rahin replied, “It’s good to see you too Bray.” His confusion then doubled, as Gwion joined the hug.

  Rahin glanced across at the doorway, where Galivan was. In true Elven fashion, his second in command was holding back his emotions, at seeing his friend alive. However, Rahin spotted the tears welling up in his eyes and realised that something momentous must have happened. Glancing across at Kiera, who was standing by Kerril’s side, he mouthed, “What happened?”

  Kiera shook her head solemnly and sent the thought, ‘You don’t want to know,’ directly into his head.

  At this Rahin’s curiosity tapered off, he knew that Mogya was capable of strange things and seeing the stern look on the Ancient One’s face, he decided that some questions were better left unanswered.

  Bray suddenly spotted Raeywin standing next to the bed, looking bemused, so he untangled himself from his Grandfather’s grip and moved across to her. Holding her in his arms, he kissed her passionately. After a short while, he pulled back and said, “I‘ve missed you.”

  Raeywin peered into his eyes and saw pain reflected back. Therefore, even though confused because of his behaviour, she merely replied, “I’ve missed you too.”

  As she finished talking, Peg gently scooped up his daughter and plante
d a light kiss on her pale blonde hair. He then looked up at Bray and asked, “Do you want to hold her?”

  Bray peered down at the tiny, fragile body, which was no bigger than his longest finger, and fear of hurting her sped through him.

  Smiling awkwardly, he shook his head and replied, “No that’s alright; I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Hearing this, Peg grinned and quipped, “Coward.” He then kissed Kerreg’s forehead and held her to his cheek, before whispering, “She is my hope for our future.”

  I.K. Bartlett is a former soldier and Officer in the British Army (he worked his way from the bottom - starting as a Private soldier - and worked his way through every rank; finally finishing his time after 23 years, as a Captain), who had a brief stint as a senior executive, before becoming a teacher. In his time, he has been a paratrooper and physical training instructor, before restarting his education and attaining an honours degree and MBA. In 2008, he represented Scotland - playing Rugby League and still enjoys a variety of sports, but loves the written word even more.