by Dean Cadman
Arlo chuckled to himself. “Well… yes, I suppose that’s one way of looking at it. But it can be a little more tricky than that, I assure you.”
“We’ll see,” Lusam replied with a grin. He was certain that he understood the process now in its entirety, and felt confident that he could undertake such a simple repair. He placed his hand above the damaged surface, just as he had seen Arlo do, and applied his newfound knowledge. First, he used his mage-sight to sense the bonds between each of the infinitesimally small building blocks which made up the surface of the floor. Then he used his magic to break those bonds, freeing them from each other, and creating a flowing liquid-like surface under his hand. He grinned with satisfaction as he felt the ebb and flow of the liquid floor in his mind. But when he tried to force the liquid-like surface to take on a flat smooth appearance, it seemed to become even more unstable. No matter what he tried, he couldn’t make it do what he wanted. He tried willing into shape, forcing into shape, and even using a magical barrier to crush it into shape, but nothing he did seemed to work. The more he tried, the worse it got. By the time he had done, it looked more like a miniature angry ocean of liquid marble under his hand, than a polished floor. And when he finally gave up and returned the floor back to a solid state, there was no longer a single gouge in it, but instead a whole series of much deeper ridges and troughs running the entire length of the area he had just worked on.
Arlo couldn’t contain himself any longer and burst out laughing, almost toppling over in the process.
“It’s not that funny,” Lusam said, testily, as he inspected the devastated floor.
“No… probably not,” Arlo replied between belly laughs. “But I get such little entertainment here…”
Lusam stood up and watched him roll around on the floor laughing at his expense. He had to admit, it was difficult keeping a straight face himself when he took another look at his handiwork. He doubted that he could have made the surface any less smooth if he’d tried. Even melting it would have rendered a better result. He turned his back to Arlo and began walking slowly over towards one of the stone statues in the corner of the room.
“Maybe I would have better luck trying it on one of these statues,” he called back over his shoulder, trying his best to keep the amusement out of his voice.
“No!” Arlo called out, jumping to his feet and wrenching his back. He cursed with every step he took, but still managed to intercept Lusam before he reached the precious statue. This time it was Lusam’s turn to laugh, although he was fairly certain that Arlo didn’t see the funny side of it.
Chapter Forty
“What do you mean you won’t let me read it!” Lusam yelled across the table at Arlo.
“That’s not what I said,” Arlo replied, holding up a hand in an attempt to calm him down. “I said—you can’t read it. Because if you do, it will kill you.”
Lusam scoffed. “I’ve heard that before, too, but I’m still here.”
“Yes, I know. But this time it’s different, trust me,” Arlo replied calmly.
“How? How is it different? You’ve got to let me at least try. You’ve no idea what’s going on out there. The world needs me… no wait—it needs us. You have to come back with me, too. I can’t believe that I didn’t think of it earlier…”
“No!” Arlo yelled, slamming his fist onto the table and startling Lusam into almost spilling his drink. Arlo took a deep breath and sighed it out slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “I can assure you, Lusam, I know everything that you do about what’s going on in our world. I saw it all in your mind when we first met, and I can tell you that it troubles me greatly. In fact, it’s also because of one of those things I saw in your mind that I’m so certain the book will kill you if you attempt to read it.”
“How…” Lusam started to protest, but Arlo held up a hand to stop him.
“I’m not exactly sure how much you know about the Guardian books and their true purpose, but I think if I explained it to you in more detail it might help you to understand my concerns.”
Lusam didn’t reply, but after a moment’s hesitation, he nodded for him to continue. If nothing else, at least I’ll learn the true story of the Guardian books, he thought to himself.
“As I’ve already mentioned, it was after The Great Rift had been sealed and Aamon trapped within the Netherworld, that Aysha found herself obliged to carry out her oath to Driden and end the bloodline of the Guardians. She begged him to reconsider just in case Aamon ever found a way to escape, but he refused to listen. Even when she told him that she had foreseen a future where Aamon was free of his bonds once more, he still refused to release her from the oath. The problem was that although the human world had lost a great many lives, the impact on Driden’s creations, the dragons, was far more profound. They didn’t number in the millions like us, therefore their losses were much more keenly felt. And not only because of their actual deaths.
“A dragon’s memories, and in a way their consciousness, lives on within their hearts after death. When a dragon dies its heart is always recovered by the other dragons and returned to a sacred place they call Nerroth, where it is laid to rest for all eternity alongside their ancestors. But the dragon’s memories and life experiences are not wasted. Instead, that knowledge is passed down to the next generation of dragons, ensuring a complete and unbroken record of their history all the way back to their original creation.
“When a young dragon comes of age and has proven themselves worthy, they get to undertake the ritual of Atroth; a type of bonding ceremony. They walk the sacred grounds of Nerroth guided by the spirits of their ancestors, in search of wisdom and knowledge. And when they finally choose a heart, they mentally bond with it, acquiring all of its ancient knowledge for themselves. If they are guided well by their ancestors they will inherit a great wealth of wisdom and knowledge, making them a formidable force amongst their kind. If however, the ancestors fail to lead them to the heart of a once great dragon, it is then their duty to learn what they lack during their lifetime, so that when their time comes to pass on their knowledge, the next generation will fare better than they once did.
“The battle we fought at The Rift was brutal. Never before had so many dragons died in such a short period of time. And as you can imagine, that by itself was terrible enough. But what no one had envisaged was the impact that the Netherworld creatures had on them. When a dragon died in combat its corpse became a beacon of power to several different types of Netherworld creatures, and they fed voraciously on their magic until there was nothing was left. Countless millennia of memories and knowledge was wiped out of existence almost overnight. Thousands upon thousands of dragon’s lives and names erased from history, never to be known again. It incensed Driden to such an extent that he almost withdrew his support in those final days of the battle. Only Aysha’s pleas and her oath to end the line of the Guardians swayed him to stay the course. But by the time the battle was over and The Great Rift sealed, part of Aysha’s oath no longer meant very much.
“Aysha had not only sworn to end the Guardian’s bloodline, but also to return the Guardian’s dragons back to Driden and their own kind. The problem was, by the time the battle was over, only five Guardians including myself remained, and only one dragon: Ryuu. The other four Guardians had lost their dragons during the battle, and were grief-stricken beyond measure. But they soon discovered that the unique bond they shared with their dragon in life, remained after death. Their dragons thoughts and memories lived on within them. And none of the dragons or the Guardians wanted to be parted from one another.
“At first, the four dragon hearts were magically hidden from Driden and the other dragons near The Great Rift. Later, after Aysha had revealed her plans to create the Guardian books, the dragons willingly agreed to remain and help protect the precious books. Each book, as you know, was hidden within a temple of Aysha, rendering both the book and the dragon heart invisible to Driden and his dragons. Initially, the dead dragons only intended t
o use their power to bolster that of their Guardian, just as they had once done in life. But they soon realised that even though a Guardian was gifted with a longer life than a normal person, he or she would still eventually die, and when that happened the dragon would no longer be able to protect the Guardian book alone. You see, a dragon, or indeed a dragon heart contains a vast amount of power, but they cannot use it in the same way as a human mage. Their use of magic is very limited by comparison, and it was because of that we decided to devise a new plan. Or more accurately, we devised a series of powerful new spells to protect the Guardian books after we were gone. And our dragons agreed to maintain those spells until either Aamon was finally dead, or the world needed a new line of Guardians.
“Now here comes the important part. At the time there were many powerful magi in the world, both in Afaraon and its neighbouring countries. We knew that the protection spells might not be enough on their own, so we created each book in such a way that it allowed a mage of sufficient power to read it, providing they had prepared themselves mentally first. We taught each temple’s High Priest the meditation technique required and ensured that they would pass that knowledge down through the generations. As long as each temple always selected a High Priest powerful enough to read their Guardian book, we felt confident that they would be capable of protecting it against any potential threats.
“The special meditation technique was required to prepare their minds for the incredible amount of information it would receive from the book. It isn’t that the human mind can’t contain the amount of information, it’s just that it can’t process and store it fast enough. It’s hard to describe, but imagine that over several hours you managed to drink fifteen or twenty cups of water. You could probably do it, but imagine drinking that same amount of water all at once and without being able to take a breath: it would kill you. And that is how the information from the Guardian books is absorbed—all at once.
“The meditation technique was intended to place the potential reader into a deep meditative state, reducing the activity of their mind to the absolute minimum, therefore allowing them to absorb the information at the required speed. But even with that safeguard in place, as you recently discovered when attempting to fix my floor, not all of the information contained within the Guardian book is made available to the reader right away. And that’s the problem. You see, the Guardian books were only ever designed to fulfil two specific roles, and that is to either enhance a High Priest’s power so he or she is able to defend their assigned Guardian book, or train an entirely new line of Guardians. They were never intended to be used the way that you have used them. In fact, it’s amazing that you survived reading just one of them, let alone three. The only explanation I can think of is that you’re my son, and therefore have some Guardian blood running through your veins.”
“Then maybe I could read your book after all,” Lusam said, leaning forward in his chair.
Arlo shook his head. “No… you can’t Lusam. At least not yet. You see, with each successive Guardian book that you read, more of the previous books’ knowledge will also be released into your mind at the same time. The incredible speed and quantity of information that your mind would have to absorb would kill you for sure. Like I’ve already said, it’s amazing that you survived reading even one book without first mastering the meditation technique, let alone two. But I do know how you were able to read the third book in Lamuria, because I saw it in your mind: Aysha was there with you. I felt her light on you whilst you were reading it. She must have substituted herself as a Guardian’s dragon and slowed down the rate at which you absorbed the information, allowing you to safely complete the process. But even so, you still barely managed to survive the process from what I saw of it. And that’s how I know you wouldn’t survive reading another Guardian book.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean Aysha substituted herself for a dragon?”
“Well, not literally, of course. She didn’t suddenly turn into a dragon and peer over your shoulder whilst you read the Guardian book,” Arlo replied, chuckling at the image he’d created for himself. Lusam raised a single eyebrow and slowly shook his head. It was no wonder that Neala sometimes lost her patience with him when she was trying to have a serious conversation and all he did was reply in a similar childish manner, he thought.
Arlo sat more upright in his chair and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he said, trying to assume a more serious demeanour, and failing miserably. “What was I saying? … oh yes—dragons. Dragons are the key for any future Guardians to be able to read the books. You see, although a Guardian is a naturally powerful mage, we are still only human. And as such, even we wouldn’t be able to absorb the contents of the five Guardian books without the help of our bonded dragons. You see, our bond not only allows us to communicate with one another, it also allows us to share our knowledge, thoughts and memories, too. So if I was to learn something new, Ryuu would also benefit from my experiences, and vice versa. And it’s precisely because of that ability that the Guardian books were constructed in the way they were: a single book’s knowledge could be absorbed by a powerful enough individual, providing they had previously prepared their mind for it. But if anyone attempted to absorb the knowledge of a second Guardian book without the buffering effects of a dragon’s vast mind, it would kill them. The books were intentionally designed that way to ensure the information didn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
“No, you’re wrong about that,” Lusam said, shaking his head. “I have met someone else who has read two Guardian books and survived. And I’m pretty sure he’s not bonded with a dragon.”
Lusam saw the look of revulsion on Arlo’s face, and could also clearly hear it in his voice when he replied. “I know the individual of whom you speak. I witnessed his unspeakable depravity in your mind. And in a way, you are right, Lord Zelroth isn’t bonded with a dragon. At least not in a natural way. His bond is a perversion of everything we hold sacred. He has bonded not only with dead dragon’s heart, but also with one that has been fully depleted of its magic.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Because I once knew that dragon and its Guardian. The dragon’s name was Othim, and I have no doubt that he would have willingly sacrificed himself to defend his Guardian book. He would never have willingly bonded to anyone else during his lifetime, and certainly not after his death. He no doubt fought to defend his Guardian book until the bitter end, but once the magic contained within a dragon heart is exhausted, the dragon all but ceases to exist. Its memories and identity are lost forever, and only a pale shadow of its former self remains. After that, it becomes nothing more than a vessel in which to store power, and possesses no real will of its own. That is what Lord Zelroth has bonded himself to. And that is how he was able to read the two Guardian books, and also defeat you at Irragin. Not because he was a more powerful mage than you, but because he had a far larger reservoir of power from which to draw. He simply waited until you exhausted yourself, confident in the fact that no matter how powerful you were, you could never match the magical reserves of a dragon, or even a dragon heart.”
Lusam pondered Arlo’s words carefully and instinctively knew that he was right. It all made sense to him now. Finally, he understood what the dragon entity at Helveel actually was, and also why he had felt such a sense of loss when he had linked his mind to the empty vessel high above Lamuria’s High Temple. He had known at the time that it was different from the one at Helveel, but now he understood why: its power had been fully drained at some point in the past, and its true essence lost forever. He felt a fresh wave of sadness at the memories and suddenly recalled the words which Aysha had spoken at the High Temple: “It is… unfortunate, that the decision was taken to place the Heart of the City in full view of the world…”
Lusam couldn’t begin to imagine how Driden must have felt seeing one of his own creations defiled in such a manner, and then made to watch as it was finally snuffed out of existence. It wa
s no wonder that relations between him and Aysha were strained, Lusam thought. Then he suddenly remembered something else about the encounters he’d had with the dragon hearts. He still had vivid memories of being pulled under by the dragon entity in Helveel, and not being able to do anything about it. No matter how hard he had struggled, its grip on him had been absolute. It was only when it had chosen to release him that he had managed to return to his own body, and even then only just in the nick of time. His experience at Irragin, however, had been very different. When he had tried to tap into Lord Zelroth’s magical barrier and take some power for himself, his mind had also been seized by the dragon heart there. But he realised now that it had been very different. He had not felt the vastness of power and intellect like he had in Helveel, and although it had been difficult, he had eventually managed to break free of its grip.
“So, am I right in thinking that an intact dragon heart is more powerful than a previously depleted one?” Lusam asked.
“Yes, that’s correct. Just as a living dragon contains far more power than a dragon heart.”
“And you can access and use that power through your bond to Ryuu?”
“Yes.”
“So, that’s the only reason why a Guardian is so powerful?” Lusam asked, sounding a little disappointed.
“Well, there’s a little more to it than that,” Arlo replied, chuckling to himself.
“Like what?” Lusam asked, without thinking. Fortunately, Arlo didn’t seem too insulted by his remark, and maintained a broad grin whilst he explained.
“Well, for one thing, there is our extensive knowledge and understanding of the world around us. When it comes to using magic, knowing that something works is not always enough. Sometimes you need to know how, and why it works, too. That way you can choose to use the most effective, and more importantly, the most efficient spells possible in any given situation.”