Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6)

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Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) Page 29

by Ferguson, Sam


  Erik was not sure what else to say. His mind flashed back to his training sessions with Master Lepkin and he recalled the rigorous, strict lessons at Kuldiga Academy. He also remembered all of the times Master Lepkin had been short or ill tempered. To hear such an open expression of affection from Master Lepkin now seemed almost strange. However, as Erik let the words sink in, the sentiment felt entirely natural. It was as if Master Lepkin had never really been the gruff, stoic warrior he had portrayed himself to be. Erik was now seeing the man for the first time, for who he really was. Lepkin had the muscular appearance and the legendary traits any hero would desire, but he had a much softer side as well. Perhaps that was the real reason he was so legendary.

  Erik understood then that only a warrior with a heart could rise to such a status as Master Lepkin, for they are the only ones who truly know what they are fighting for.

  Erik nodded and smiled at them. He wished them goodbye as Lady Dimwater opened a portal and the two walked through it. The young champion looked down to the small rolled up piece of paper that held the spell for summoning Silverfang. He looked at it for maybe a minute or two before the door opened.

  “Hey beanpole,” Al said with a soft wink.

  “Hi,” Erik replied. Al’s face smiled, but his eyes didn’t. Erik knew why. All of the dwarves that had been without the walls of Fort Drake had been caught by his spell, which now meant they were all dead.

  “I don’t need an apology,” Al said quickly, as if understanding Erik’s mind.

  Erik looked to the floor and sighed. “There wasn’t another way,” he said.

  “I said I don’t need an apology,” Al repeated. “I know why you did what you did. Frankly, I am just glad you found a way to shield those of us inside the fort. I wasn’t aware the magic of Allun Rha could be directed like that. I have known for a while now that using it would prove fatal to anyone caught by it.” Al took in a breath and slipped into the room. “You must remember, the dwarves kept the most accurate history of all. I know the secrets of Hamath Valley, and I knew the price of being present in the final battle with Tu’luh.”

  “Then why did you come with me?” Erik asked.

  “I couldn’t very well let you come alone, now could I?” Al replied with a half grin. He clasped his hands together and the grin disappeared. “I had hoped we would find a way to get the dragon alone, or at least on an empty field surrounded by his own goons instead of my kin, but that is the burden of being king. That is my stone to bear, don’t let it weigh you down. You did what you had to do, and there was no other way to stop him. Whether you came at that moment or the day after, my kin folk were already dead. Tu’luh was here, and he had the curse. It worked out as well as it could have.”

  Erik nodded. “I asked the Immortal Mystic how I could spare you,” he said. “By the way, I should tell you what I found when I went to the immortal Mystic.” Al stared at Erik blankly as he closed the door behind himself. He moved close and sat on the foot of the bed waiting for Erik to explain.

  “The immortal Mystic is not a man.”

  “He is the Father of the Ancients,” Al said.

  “You knew?”

  Al shook his head. “No, but after we found Tu’luh in Valtuu Temple, I hoped for it.” The dwarf king smiled and then he rose from the bed. “I just wanted to check on you before I left.”

  “You’re leaving now?”

  Tears slid over Al’s cheek, mingling with his beard. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice cracked and nothing came out. His lower lip quivered and he wrung his hands for himself as he stared at the floor. He nodded and then finally found the words to speak. “I have many funeral pyres to build. My work outside the mountain is done. Now I must return and rebuild what is left of my kingdom. There is a bright spot on the wars, though. I received word that most of my warriors in the north who fought under Grand Master Penthal’s command against the Tarthuns survived. Those horse-loving Tarthuns won’t be back to bother the Middle Kingdom again any time soon.” Al flashed his bright smile and nodded proudly. “We beat them twice, actually. Faengoril led a force of five hundred against seven thousand.”

  “He won?” Erik asked with eyes wide.

  Al smiled wide. “He suckered them into a cave and then dropped it around their ears.” His smile faded and he sighed then. “Unfortunately, he died there. I would have liked to see him again.” Al became silent for a few moments and let his gaze drift to the floor before continuing. “The dwarves in the north fought well under Master Penthal. They will be hailed as heroes in Roegudok Hall.”

  “So will you,” Erik said.

  Al shook his head and then pointed a finger at Erik. “You remember one thing, beanpole,” Al said is he regained his composure. “You always have a friend in the mountain. Never forget that.”

  Erik started to cry as he watched Al leave the room and close the door behind. Erik sat on the bed a long while, waiting for someone else to come in the room. It took him maybe an hour or two before he realized there was no one else left to come. He looked at the tapestries on the wall, realizing for the first time that there was no window in this room. He rose to his feet and went to the door. He exited the room and made his way down the corridor. He didn’t get far when he heard a loud commotion.

  He followed the sounds of shouting and yelling until he made his way to the inner courtyard of Fort Drake. Soldiers rushed past him, nearly knocking him out of their way as they streamed out into the courtyard. Erik stepped outside and saw the great golden dragon standing in the courtyard. The sunlight bounced off of his golden scales, and the men gathered around in a sense of reverence and awe. It had been a long, long time since the Middle Kingdom had been visited by a dragon other than Tu’luh. It had been longer still, since the dragon did not have to worry about Nagar’s evil curse.

  The Father of the Ancients quickly found Erik among the crowd and looked at him. Soldiers parted immediately, as if obeying some unspoken command from the dragon. Erik walked forward and knelt on a knee before the Father of the Ancients.

  “Do not bow before me, Champion of Truth.” The dragon’s voice echoed in the courtyard. “It is I who should bow to you.” The magnificent dragon bent down on all four knees, until his belly touched the ground, and his head rested in the dirt before Erik’s face. Erik reached out with his right hand and touched the dragon on the snout. “Allow me to heal your wound.” Hyasintar Kulai stretched forth a curved, golden talon and touched Erik’s shoulder. Instantly the wound healed and the arm was usable again.

  “Thank you,” Erik offered.

  “Climb onto my back,” the dragon said.

  At that moment a small figure came rushing out from the crowd. It was Jaleal, the gnome, and he was frantically trying to catch them before they left. He knelt before the Father of the Ancients and held his spear out reverently.

  “Please, wherever you take him, allow me to go as well.”

  “Noble gnome,” the dragon began. “Your place is with your kind. For now, your fight is done. However, there will come a time when you will need to take up your spear again. Go and prepare for that time.”

  Jaleal shook his head. “I cannot leave Erik’s side.”

  “Where Erik goes, you cannot follow,” the dragon said. “But you will not long be parted. Go back to your people now, and you will see each other again.”

  Jaleal nodded and remained in a kneeling position as he looked up to Erik and smiled his farewell.

  “And what of me?” A female voice asked.

  Erik scanned the crowd and saw Lady Arkyn standing there, looking at him with her beautiful eyes.

  Erik felt a voice enter his mind. It asked him whether he wanted Lady Arkyn to accompany him. It reminded him of the time when he could speak with the dwarves telepathically, while he was in Lepkin’s dragon form. He knew at once that the golden dragon was communicating with him in the same manner now. Erik looked at Lady Arkyn and did not have to think for long.

  “There is room fo
r you as well,” Erik said. “Come with me.”

  Lady Arkyn quickly climbed onto the dragon and sat behind Erik. Without waiting a moment longer, the golden dragon leapt into the air high into the sky. He soared with blinding speed, much faster than Erik had ever been able to fly as a dragon, and faster than he had even seem Tu’luh fly. The golden dragon took him back to his home and set him down among the ruins.

  They walked by the barn, or what was left of it after it had been burnt. They walked toward where the house had been. Erik looked down at the rubble at his feet thought of that battle when Senator Bracken, or more accurately the warlock that had masqueraded as Senator Bracken, had led an army against his home. “You knew then that I was not master Lepkin, didn’t you?” Erik asked Lady Arkyn.

  “I did,” Lady Arkyn said.

  “Thank you for not saying anything. If you had, the soldiers who followed me might have lost heart and fled.”

  Lady Arkyn shook her head emphatically. “No, not if they saw what I saw in you. There is a great strength in you, one that commands respect and speaks of a wisdom far beyond your years.”

  Erik smiled, blushing a bit in the cheeks, and looked back to the stones and bricks at his feet that had once formed his home.

  The two of them walked in silence through the rubble for a few minutes before Erik turned back to the golden dragon and asked him a question.

  “Why have you brought me here?”

  “Your home is going to be rebuilt,” the golden dragon said. “King Mathias has already decreed it. Your mother, and the servant called Braun, will leave the capitol city tomorrow morning. They’ll be traveling directly here. I thought you might like to say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?” Erik echoed. “Where is it that I am going?”

  The golden dragon laughed a soft yet deep, throaty laugh. “I can see the rumblings inside your heart, young Erik. There is a wound - an emptiness that I believe only a new adventure will heal.”

  “So where are you sending me?” Erik asked. The golden dragon shook his head. “The tapestries of fate came undone after you destroyed the spells that threatened the Middle Kingdom. Neither I, nor the other dragons can see into the future with any degree of clarity anymore.”

  “Does this mean you cannot find the secrets inside the Infinium?”

  “No, it only means that I cannot see whether you play any part in the Middle Kingdom’s immediate future. We will continue to study the Infinium, and if we discover something of importance I will come for you.”

  Erik looked around at the rubble of his home and then he looked to Lady Arkyn. She smiled at him reassuringly. Erik looked back to the dragon and asked, “What will become of my mother?”

  “Her heart is broken.” A single tear emerged and fell from the golden dragon’s right eye. “I have the power to allow her to reunite with her husband.”

  “You would kill her?” Erik asked.

  “Now. I would transfigure her. Afterward, when the two have been reunited, I will personally carry their spirits to the heaven city, Volganor. It is something I can only do a few times before the journey would sap me of my strength and prevent me from returning to Terramyr. But, for your parents, I would be happy to make the journey.”

  Erik nodded. “Where should we go?” He glanced back to Lady Arkyn and her smile only grew brighter.

  “The sea lies to the west, the wild lands are to the east, and there are orc lands to the south, with many rumored mysteries beyond that. I am sure we can figure something out.”

  “I like the sound of that.” Erik turned and took a few steps back toward the Father of the Ancients. “If I leave, what will happen to the Middle Kingdom?”

  “Now that I have returned, I will grant additional strength to King Mathias. When his body fails him, Master Lepkin will take his place as the king. I will work with Master Lepkin, and his posterity, to create a peaceful kingdom.”

  Erik was happy. He knew that Lepkin would make an honorable and just king. He only hoped that it would be far enough in the future that Lepkin could enjoy some quiet and peace before being called back to serve the kingdom again. For now, Erik was going to follow in Lepkin’s footsteps. There was something he needed to find, and he could not find it in the Middle Kingdom. He turned to the west, and then the east, and finally to the south. Then he turned around and looked to the north. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go. He knew that he no longer had a home in the Middle Kingdom. It wasn’t just the rubble under his feet. He had changed. He needed to find himself again. He turned once more and looked at Lady Arkyn.

  He wasn’t sure where he was going to go, but at least he knew who he was going with. Destiny may have finished with him for now, but he decided it was about time to write his own. Besides, he could do far worse than beginning that new journey with a beautiful woman.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Aparen watched from the window as Erik and Lady Arkyn leapt atop the back of the golden dragon. He couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Erik had stolen the glory that should have been his. Then again, he now had a power far beyond what he might have had otherwise. He thought of Njar the satyr’s teachings. Balance had been restored. The orcs had been repelled, the curse had been broken, and the Middle Kingdom was returned to its natural state.

  He knew he could no longer find a home in the Middle Kingdom. He looked down at his left hand, seeing the horrible scars that were forming over his skin where the dragon’s fire burned and mutilated his body. Now, even in his human form he was more monster than man. He moved to put on a long-sleeved cotton shirt, without regard for the pain as he slid it over his still open wounds. Then he exited the fort.

  He walked toward the south, over the broken field, around the trenches between the pits. People were slowly making their way southward again, back to Stonebrook and the other villages and cities between Fort Drake and Stonebrook. Soldiers were on the move, transferring strength back to Ten Forts. Aparen intended to go beyond Ten Forts. If the orcish armies had been vanquished, then that meant there was a land to the south ripe for claiming. Who better to bring balance to a war thirsty horde than the greatest warlock in the history of the Middle Kingdom?

  A great flash of lightning sparked in front of him. A silvery plate spun on the ground. The plate expanded to cover a large area in front of him and a great column of light descended down upon the plate. Within the light appeared his mother, Lady Cedreau. She stepped out of the light, followed by Njar the satyr, and Silvi the witch.

  Aparen stood motionless. He had not seen his mother for quite some time, and certainly not since before he had led some of his retinue against Lokton manor.

  The satyr was the first to speak. “Aparen, I found your mother. I have convinced her to stop hunting Silvi. In return, I promised to bring her to you so she could speak with you one more time.”

  “One more time?” Aparen glanced between his mother and the satyr. “What do you mean one more time?”

  “Eldrik,” lady Cedreau called out, using Aparen’s birth name. “Njar has offered me a new life. He has found a place where he can send me, where I will be happy. He has offered to ensure that I have every need provided for me. I will have money, a home, and a place where people respect me.”

  “He told me of this plan before,” Aparen said. “Where will you go?”

  “That is why I have come. For this to work, the satyr is going to take my memories away and replace them with others. I will have a new family, and a new life.”

  “You would abandon me, my father, and my brother?”

  His mother shook her head, with tears streaming from her eyes. She held out her arms to him beckoning for him to come to her. “No. I want you to come with me. He can make the same life with you in it if you choose.”

  “What do I give up in return?” Aparen asked.

  The satyr stepped forward. “In addition to your memories, you will need to give up your magic. If you were to keep it, your memories would return and it would jeopardize you
and your mother’s happiness.”

  Aparen shook his head. “No. You ask too great a price.” Aparen looked at Silvi. “Do you agree with them? Do you wish for me to give up everything that I am?”

  “I wish for you to do whatever it is your heart desires to do. I also wish to go with you whichever choice you make.”

  “You will go with me whether I go with my mother or somewhere else?” Aparen clarified.

  Silvi nodded in response.

  Aparen moved in and gave his mother a hug. The two embraced for a long while, then he kissed her on the cheek. “I cannot go with you, mother. It is my memories that make me who I am, and it is my powers that make me who I will be.”

  The satyr came in close and put a hand on each of the shoulders. “If you choose not to go with her, you must forget about her. If you ever approach her in life, the spell will be broken and her memories will flood back to her. You would steal her happiness from her, and replace it with all the grief she has borne for this long while. You saw the vision of what the witches did. Your mother has suffered enough. I will not tell you where she is going, and you must swear in a wizard’s pact never to look for her.”

  Aparen pushed his mother away, nodding slowly his agreement. “I wish for you to be happy, mother.” He then looked at Silvi. “I am traveling south, through the orcish lands. Will you go with me there?”

  Silvi smiled and rushed forward to embrace Aparen in a hug. She kissed him on his cheek and then let her head fall upon his shoulder. “I told you before, that I would be yours,” she whispered.

  The satyr summoned his staff and held it over them in the air. “This is where we all part ways,” he said. “I wish each of you the best of fortune, and may Terramyr smile upon your days.”

  The satyr stamped the ground with his staff. A mighty whirlwind arose and each party was taken to their separate destinations to begin their new lives.

  *****

  Tu’luh floated toward the volcano Demaverung that he had once called home. His wings beat slowly, but he didn’t need to move them. He was dead. His spirit would move with the power of will whether his legs or wings moved at all.

 

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