The Dragons Return

by J. J. Thompson

  “I suppose so,” he said tiredly. “You two are right, of course. It was a shock. And it'll take me a few days to get my head around it.” He straightened his shoulders and reached out to take the glass of wine that Kronk was holding.

  “Thanks, Kronk.”

  The elemental hopped off of the counter and then climbed back up on to the table.

  “Unfortunately, I don't have a few days. We're committed now.”

  Aeris flew down the stairs with Daniel's notebook in his arms.

  “In a week's time, we're going to be taking on the dragon,” Simon continued. Saying that out loud induced a small flutter of panic in his belly and he took a sip of wine to settle it down.

  Aeris crossed the room and offered him the book. Simon took it with a smile and a nod, but left it on the table as he watched the two elementals.

  “We cannot hesitate anymore. No prevaricating or wishing for more time. There isn't any. So, I have to ask both of you for a favor.”

  Kronk and Aeris looked surprised and exchanged a puzzled look between them.

  “A favor?” Aeris said curiously.

  “Anything, master,” Kronk said stoutly.

  “Don't be so quick to say that,” Simon told the little guy with a twisted grin. “You may not want to do the task that I'm asking you to do. And if you don't, either of you, I'll understand.”

  “Don't beat around the bush, Simon,” Aeris said. “Just tell us what you want. And in case you didn't know, both of us want to have a role to play in destroying the dragon.”

  Simon drank some more wine. They'd been right. He had needed it.

  He stood up, brought the bottle back to the table and poured himself another drink. As he sat down again, he was thinking of the best way to make his request. But the only thing he could think of was to ask it straight out.

  “Fine. Here it is then. I want to send you both back to your own realms. Back to the elemental planes.”

  Aeris' eyes widened while Kronk stood looking stunned.

  “You're getting rid of us? Why? Haven't we done everything you've asked?”

  The air elemental sounded desperate.

  “How have I failed you, master?” Kronk asked. He stared sadly at Simon and twisted his little stony hands together.

  “What? No, no.” Simon shook his head vehemently. “Damn it, I knew I should have found another way to ask. Look, relax, both of you. I'm not sending you back for good. I want you to be emissaries for me.”

  Aeris' look of panic faded to be replaced by one of keen curiosity. Kronk stopped wringing his hands and stepped closer to Simon.

  “Emissaries? For what purpose?” Aeris asked.

  “Well, both of you have said that your people look upon me favorably. I've treated you as partners, not as slaves, and those of your kind who have responded to my summonings have seemed pleased by their experiences.”

  “That is so, master. The earthen who have served you have enjoyed their time here.”

  “As did Aethos,” Aeris added.

  “Exactly. So what I'd like you to attempt to do is speak to your leaders. Ask them if they'd be willing to send some of your more powerful elementals to help us in our fight against the dragon. Even just one of the greater elementals would be a help, if they are anywhere near as formidable as you've said.”

  The two little figures were silent for a moment, obviously thinking over the wizard's request. He watched them anxiously.

  “I will do whatever you ask of me, master. You know that,” Kronk said finally but then shrugged. “I do not think they will even listen to one such as me, to be honest. I am insignificant to them.”

  “Maybe so, Kronk, but I'd like you to at least try. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.”

  “I will try, master.”

  “Good. That's all I ask.”

  Simon looked at the air elemental, who seemed to be having an internal debate with himself.

  “Aeris? Do you want to try? You don't have to, you know.”

  “I know that,” Aeris replied irritably. He seemed more angry at himself than at Simon. Or embarrassed.

  “Look, I hate to admit this, but I may have the same problem as Kronk,” he continued reluctantly. “My leaders don't acknowledge us, the smaller ones. For me to even get an audience with them would probably be impossible.”

  Simon began to speak but Aeris cut him off.

  “But I'll try anyway.” He saw Simon's look of surprised and barked out a laugh. “You deserve at least that much from me after how you've treated me, my dear wizard.”

  Simon had to smile in return and he raised his glass in a toast to them and then sipped his wine.

  “Thank you both. I'll send you home and summon you again in, what, twenty-four hours? Will that be enough time?”

  “Oh yes, master. If we have not reached our leaders by then, we never will.”

  “I agree, Kronk,” Aeris said. Then he shook a finger at Simon.

  “Don't forget to recall us,” he said with a weak smile.

  “Relax, Aeris. I've become used to you both. Who would I argue with around here if you were gone?”

  Even Kronk grinned at that comment.

  “Okay then, Simon. Sooner started, sooner finished.”

  Aeris moved to stand next to Kronk.

  “Anytime you're ready.”

  Simon pushed aside his glass, held up his hands and easily pulled the proper spell from his mind. It was a simple incantation and he cast it quickly. Before he added the trigger word, he smiled at both of his little friends.

  “Good luck, guys. I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Kronk bowed and Aeris sketched a salute. Then Simon completed the spell and both elementals disappeared in a flash of light.

  “I hope you're convincing,” Simon said to the now empty room. He suddenly felt lonely and shivered even though it was still warm in the tower.

  He lit all the candles in the room absently with a flick of power and then opened Daniel's notebook. His friend had offered him a final gift. Check the back cover of my notebook, he'd said.

  Okay, Simon thought. I've only read the damned book a hundred times. But I'll look at it again.

  He flipped through the battered and worn notebook absently and then turned it over and opened the back cover.

  The last page was covered with symbols and runes. He'd examined them minutely before and, now that his head was full of magical spells, the writing was clear and rather simple. The back cover was simply thick cardboard with gray paper glued to it. It too had its symbols and notes but nothing on it was unknown to him.

  What was Daniel talking about, he wondered. And then Simon grabbed the nearest candlestick and pulled it close as he examined the edges of the cover.

  Was the paper lifting off of it a bit at the sides?

  He worried at the edge with a fingernail, gently pulling at it until it lifted off of the cardboard with a small, tearing sound. Then he carefully pulled on the gray paper and it came free along the top and sides and Simon stared at what had been revealed.

  It was a small, flat piece of parchment. He hesitated and then slipped the paper out of its hiding place and closed the notebook.

  He held the tiny, pinkish piece of paper in trembling fingers. What was so important to Daniel that he'd gone to the trouble of hiding it this way?

  Simon began unfolding the parchment carefully. It was incredibly thin and delicate and opened up into a sheet of paper remarkably large considering how small it had been when folded tightly.

  He spread out the paper, smoothing it carefully and then examined the writing on it.

  It wasn't written in Daniel's familiar script and Simon was convinced that someone else had created the note. The writing was so small that he had to almost put his nose against the parchment to read it.

  My God, he thought. It's a spell. But it was the longest, most complex spell he had ever seen. Even the advanced incantations and enchantments that had been gifted to him by the god in his dr
eam didn't come close to this thing's sheer size.

  Simon read through it. The language was unknown to him and yet he could read it effortlessly. Mayan? Egyptian? Sumerian? No, none of those. This was something else. He knew, somehow, that had he not been given his knowledge by the gods of Light, he'd never have been able to decipher the contents of the parchment.

  But what does it do? It couldn't be a battle spell. It would take him at least five minutes to read aloud. And Simon doubted that he'd be able to memorize such a complex incantation. What the hell was it?

  “A final gift, he said,” Simon murmured. “But a final gift of what?”

  He scanned through the entire spell. At the bottom of the page, crammed into what little space was left, he finally found writing that he recognized as Daniel's. A single cryptic line.

  'To be cast once.'

  That was all it said.

  Simon filled his glass again and drank down half of it in one shot.

  “Damn it, Daniel,” he said to the room at large. “What is it? You have to have known that I wouldn't cast something like this without knowing the consequences.”

  He thought it over. Of course his friend had known. Who knew him better?

  “It's a test, isn't it, you...” he said to himself bitterly.

  Yes, a test. A leap of faith is what Daniel would have called it. Simon could almost hear him.

  “How much do you trust me?” his friend might have said. “How much faith do you have in me?”

  Simon stood up, took his glass of wine and walked to the door, leaving the parchment on the table. He opened the door and walked out.

  The gates stood open in the growing dusk and he set the glass on the steps and went down to close them,

  For a moment he stared across the field at the forest beyond. Daniel and Ethmira had entered the trees just about there.

  He stared blankly at the spot, trying to get into his friend's head.

  A final gift. What would Daniel have wanted him to have at this moment in time?

  A weapon to help defeat the dragon? Possibly. But that parchment had been hidden in the notebook over three years ago. Could his friend have known that this moment would come?

  Somehow Simon doubted it. Daniel was wise, no question about it. And he'd had knowledge of the apocalypse to come. But to know that his old buddy would become a wizard and have to face a dragon? No, that Simon could not believe.

  So the spell was something else. But what?

  That little voice inside of him decided to pay him another visit.

  The only way to find out is to cast the spell, it said.

  Yeah, no kidding, Simon thought. But gift or not, friend or not, he could not find enough trust in his heart to do that. Not now. Not when he was so close to the final battle and so many people were depending on him.

  Simon closed and locked the gates. He walked around the tower to make sure the rear gate was secured and then visited the horses.

  He fed and watered them, dispensed pats and rubs all around and then went back to the front steps and sat down.

  Night was falling quickly and the air became chilly.

  Winter's on its way, he thought as he sipped his wine. Will I be alive to see it? Will any of us?

  A thought occurred to him and Simon ran through the spells in his mind until the proper one formed glowing symbols in his thoughts. He cast the spell easily, emptied his glass and gazed out into the darkness.

  “Clara? Are you there?”

  “Simon!” Clara sounded surprised but pleased. “How are you? What's up?”

  “I had a visit today. I wanted to tell you about it and maybe ask your advice about something.”

  “A visit?” The cleric sounded intrigued. “From whom?”

  Simon told her about the entire affair, from the note they had found on the gates that morning, to his finding the hidden parchment in the notebook.

  When he was done, he felt very tired, but pleased that he had at least shared the tale with someone else.

  Clara had been excited to hear that the elves would join in the battle against the dragon. She had seemed taken aback by how soon Simon proposed to go up against the beast, but stoutly agreed to join him. And she expressed her compassion when he told her about Daniel.

  “So now you need to make a decision, don't you?” she asked him soberly when he told her about the complex spell Daniel had left as a gift.

  Simon sighed and nodded in the darkness.

  “I suppose I do. Even if I don't cast the spell, that's a decision, isn't it? Clara, what should I do?”

  “Oh Simon, I can't tell you that. You're the wizard, not I. But tell me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Do you believe that your oldest friend in the entire world, the man who came back from the elvish lands and gave up his youth to see you one last time, would want to do you harm? Do you really believe that?”

  Her tone of voice was carefully neutral but Simon winced as he imagined he heard the rebuke in it.

  Put that way, the answer was plain.

  “No, of course not,” he told her. “I could never believe that.”

  “So, if that is true, then you already have your answer, don't you?”

  “I...” He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired now. And a little drunk, if he was being quite honest with himself.

  “Yes, you're right. I just, I don't know. I'm sick of secrets and unknown motives and, to be frank, I'm more than a bit nervous about the battle to come.”

  “Of course you are,” Clara said. “I'd be worried if you weren't. If it will ease your mind a bit, Eric, Virginia and the others have been practicing every day. Their magic has grown more powerful and stable. I think when the time comes, they will pleasantly surprise you.”

  “Really? That's excellent news.”

  “Yes. Also, the guardsmen have all volunteered to join us whenever the battle takes place. Their arrows will be blessed with the righteousness of the gods of Light. I'm fairly sure that they will penetrate even a dragon's hide.”

  Simon felt a tiny spark of hope.

  “Wonderful. Thanks, Clara. That is exactly the kind of news I needed to hear.”

  She laughed.

  “Good. Now get some rest. And if you do decide to use that spell, let me know how it went.”

  “I will. Thank you for your clarity. I really needed it.”

  “Any time, my friend. Sleep well.”

  “And you. Good night.”

  Simon canceled the spell and stood up. He walked into the tower, locked the door and went over to the sink to wash his glass. He corked the wine bottle firmly.

  That's enough of that for one night, he thought. He picked up a candle, blew out the others and headed for the stairs. The spell could wait until the morning. Then, when his thinking was clearer, he'd decide what to do.

  But the next day, he was still unsure. Not of Daniel's motives; Clara had reminded Simon that he had always trusted his friend. But perhaps of Daniel's judgment. The man wanted him to destroy the dragon, without question. But how far was he willing to go? That was what worried the wizard so much.

  In the meantime, Simon had other things to think about. He took his tea outdoors after breakfast with several large pieces of paper, a pencil and his atlas. He sat down on his front steps and drew a rough outline of Aylmer Island.

  The sun was beaming down on him and the late September morning was warm and peaceful. It was hard to believe that in less than a week, he'd be facing the wrath of a dragon.

  Simon looked up from his drawing for a moment and ran that thought through his mind. Facing a dragon.

  I'm living in some sort of fantasy, he thought. Funny, I never considered how the heroes in those adventures would act if the situations they faced were real. Would they have been as terrified as I am? Would they have woken up from dreams of being burned alive? Slick with sweat and panting with fear?

  Of course they wouldn't. He smiled wryly to himself. They wer
e pretend. Simon looked down at his picture and swallowed heavily. But this, this was very real.

  He checked the atlas to see where the lighthouse was and marked it on his drawing. Then he began to sketch in earnest.

  More than an hour had passed when he sat up again. He winced with discomfort. His butt was numb from sitting on the stone steps and his tea had grown cold.

  Simon looked at the drawing again, examining it closely. He nodded reluctantly.

  “I wonder if it will work,” he said aloud. “If it doesn't, I suppose it won't matter. We'll all be dead anyway.”

  Simon picked up his teacup, stood up and stretched with a groan. Then he went inside and put on the kettle again.

  He sat down at the table and put his drawing and the atlas to one side. The square of creased parchment laid out on the tabletop caught his eye and he picked it up with a frown. He scanned the note and then abruptly got to his feet.

  “To hell with it,” he said and took the kettle off the fire. Then he folded up the note, slipped it into a pocket of his robe and walked out the door.

  Once he had opened the gate, Simon walked briskly out to the center of the field and pulled out the parchment.

  “Okay Daniel, old friend,” he muttered. “If I can't trust you, then who can I trust?”

  Simon took a deep breath and then began to read the spell out loud.

  He pronounced each word exactly, squinting down at the document as he spoke.

  The sounds of nature around him slowly faded to an ominous silence. The bright sunlight seemed to dim and the air became heavy and damp.

  Each word became progressively harder to say than the last and Simon started to feel dizzy. His tongue felt thick and he had to be careful not to slur his words. He knew instinctively that if he mispronounced a single syllable of the incantation, the results could be catastrophic.

  The final few words of the spell felt like they were weighted with iron. Simon forced them through his lips, almost tripping over his numb tongue, but managing to reach the end of the incantation without any mistakes.

  As the spell hung in the air like an eager beast waiting to strike, Simon closed his eyes and tried to find his courage. In the end, it was with a sense of fatality that he spoke the word of command.