Ascension: The Dragons of Kendualdern

by Sam Ferguson

  “Go and assemble all of the dragons. I will address all of them in the valley under the mountain.” The two sentries turned and sped through the halls. Geldryn followed for half the length of the cave, then he collapsed and fell against the wall, overcome with grief and exhaustion.

  He closed his eyes. He knew it would take at least an hour to get all of the dragons out of the mountain in any case. His mind swam in a thousand different directions, ranging from what might have been if Gorliad had never been crippled, to the happier times with his beloved Siravel. He remained there in the hall for maybe an hour, perhaps two. It was difficult for him to know precisely how much time had passed until he finally felt some measure of strength enter back into his body.

  Geldryn pushed up from the floor and continued his walk out to the platform in front of the mountain’s main entrance. It was quite a spectacle to see all of his dragons in one place. There must have been close to two hundred dragons, twice that number of drakes, and nearly double that number of drones. Flanking the multitude of dragons stood an ocean of dwarves. Some dressed well, obviously sensing the solemnity of the assembly Geldryn called together, while others had come straight from the mines and still bore the day’s dirt and grime across their faces. All of them looked at him.

  He cleared his throat and pawed the ground with his right foreleg. Geldryn had not thought of what he was going to say. The king was barely able to make sense of his own feelings, and had not yet found the words to articulate his thoughts.

  He looked into the sea of faces. Then, he looked out beyond them to the lands he had conquered. He shook his head, and nearly changed his mind, but as he started to turn back into the mountain he saw Algearon approaching from the tunnel, followed by a score of dwarves.

  “I thought I told you to wait,” Geldryn said.

  Algearon nodded. “We are with you. The others will ensure your orders are carried out, but we are with you.”

  “Loyal, even now,” Geldryn said with a faint smile. The dwarf nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. The dwarves stopped just short of exiting the mountain and looked up at the great king. Seeing them there, supporting him in the final moments of his reign, gave him the courage to see it through.

  The black dragon took in a deep breath, stoking the fires in his chest. He turned his head and rent the skies with a horrible, flaming roar. All before him bowed low to the ground in reverence.

  “Queen Siravel has passed,” Geldryn said. None of his subjects looked up. They wouldn’t, he knew, until he named Siravel’s successor. Except, he had no such intentions. “Look upon me, and at my mountain,” Geldryn commanded. Slowly the dragons and dwarves lifted their heads, some glancing nervously at each other. “Tradition and law,” Geldryn started in his thunderous voice. “What are they for?” He let the question linger on the air over the crowd for a minute. When none dared to utter an answer, he continued. “The Aurorean created dragons as beacons of light, as stewards of order in a world plagued by the Void’s chaos. Our traditions and laws are what give us strength. A dragon’s egg decides that dragon’s fate. Some are born to be drones, soldiers, workers, officers, or kings. Similarly, a dwarf is assigned a task from birth. They work in the mines, the trades and crafts, or in the army or as scouts. Every creature has his place.”

  Geldryn cleared his throat and shook his massive head. “Yet, what if our traditions hold us back?”

  A faint, nearly inaudible ripple of whispers moved through the crowd.

  The king lifted his right foreleg and held it up for all to see. “If I were to lose my leg, and become crippled, the tradition would demand that another king take my place. I would become his servant, or I would be banished. But would I be less of a dragon?”

  “The traditions are our strength,” a great orange and black dragon said from the side. A few dragons nodded their agreement.

  “Perhaps our traditions are only to prepare us for a better strength,” Geldryn countered. The orange and black dragon bowed its head as Geldryn turned his eyes upon him. “As you all know, it was Gorliad who defeated Beleriad in battle.” The black king searched the crowd until he found Ceadryl. He pointed a talon at the dragon and motioned for him to come forward. “According to your report, Beleriad issued a challenge for Gorliad’s kingdom. Did Gorliad dishonor himself, or fight unfairly? Did he use treachery to defeat Beleriad?”

  Ceadryl moved forward and shook his head. “Gorliad fought bravely, and honorably. He defeated Beleriad and won the challenge.”

  Dwarves and dragon alike began to murmur in the crowd, but Geldryn spread his wings and blasted a short burst of flame over their heads. “One who the traditions would have thrown out, and cast aside defeated a prince, and claimed a kingdom. He rules over his dwarves with a new kind of law, one that appreciates each individual, and lets them contribute in a way of their own choosing.”

  “Such a kingdom is blasphemy!” a dragon near the back shouted. “We cannot abide its existence.”

  Geldryn roared again, causing the whole valley to tremble. When he ceased he looked at that yellow dragon that had spoken up and snarled. “I am not here to make a long speech. I have not the strength of spirit for it. What I am here to do is offer a new life to those who want it.” Geldryn extended his right wing out, pointing to one side of the valley. “All of those who would value such a kingdom, where each is valued and appreciated, where freedom of choice is cherished and relationships are put before office and duty, move to my right-hand side. Those who believe that the traditions and laws are sacrosanct, and cannot ever be altered or transcended, move to my left.”

  For a moment, no one moved. The dwarves looked around nervously at the dragons looming over them. The dragons stared at the king as if unsure what they should do. Finally, the same yellow dragon in the rear of the crowd spoke again.

  “To live such a life would be to throw away our kingdom. You would no longer be fit to be king.”

  Geldryn laughed and smiled wryly. “If I am no longer fit to be king, then whom shall you serve? Can you exist without a king?”

  The dragon drew its head back and cocked it to the side, but it did not offer an answer.

  “Gorliad is king, he has laid claim to his lands in the sacred rites that all kings use. However, he offers something more than what I ever could. He offers a life where each creature, dragon or dwarf, can in some measure be a king, and lord over his or her own life. A short time ago I also would have balked at the idea, but Gorliad has shown me the wisdom in this new ideal. Once you open your minds to it, you will understand that it is the better path.”

  “What of the Aurorean?” a dragon from the left shouted.

  Geldryn smiled. “If the Aurorean had not wanted this evolution, he would not have imbued us with the strengths we have. If there is one thing that Gorliad’s example has shown me, it is that each of us is capable of more than what our class, physical size, or limitations may try to dictate. It is this complete fulfillment of self that leads to a better existence.” Geldryn then sat back on his haunches and closed his wings. “Now choose this day which path you will follow.”

  Again the dragons and dwarves stood still. Finally, Ceadryl roared out and made a show of blowing fire into the air. He offered a nod to Geldryn, and then moved to stand proudly at the king’s right. He puffed out his chest and fumed, smoke issuing out of his nostrils. Algearon and the dwarves near Geldryn moved next, going to stand near Ceadryl.

  The yellow dragon, and the orange and black dragon, quickly moved to the king’s left, snarling and growling.

  The sea of bodies moved through and around each other, mixing and growling as they moved.

  Geldryn knew the day would not end peacefully, but then, he had never expected it to.

  Before the two groups were even clearly defined, a dragon in the midst of the crowd tore a trio of dwarves in half, calling them traitors. Another dragon nearby jumped in, seizing the first by the neck and dragging it to the ground. A half second later and the whole
multitude turned inward in a tidal wave of crashing teeth, claws, and steel under a sky of red and orange fire.

  The king roared one final time and leapt into the middle of the clash. He could not allow any to live who might seek to dethrone Gorliad. He landed on the yellow dragon’s back, crushing it to the ground and snapping its spine. Next he went for the orange and black dragon. He tore the beast’s throat out and then flung the body aside.

  “Here I stand, if you oppose me, come and test your strength against the king of the mountain!” Geldryn shouted. A host of dragons closed in on him. The mighty king unleashed his fury on all who refused to allow for a peaceful change. Soon he was joined by Ceadryl and others who formed a ring around him, pushing back the sea of fire-breathing beasts, yet they were greatly outnumbered. Flame and smoke rose from the valley to form a great cloud of death above them.

  When the sun finally dropped behind the horizon, there was no aurora to be seen in the sky. There was only the stench of burning flesh, the metallic scent of blood, and the roar of the flame as destruction consumed the valley.

  Chapter 38

  Gorliad stood at the entrance to his mountain. A lonely wind whistled across the tundra beyond the forest, whipping up snow and causing it to drift out toward the west. The burgundy king kept his eyes fixed on the northern horizon, watching, searching. He almost didn’t notice Minirteal slide up beside him until she nuzzled her head into the side of his neck.

  “You have been watching the skies for days,” she said. “What is it you look for?”

  Gorliad shook his head. “Geldryn will come,” he said somberly.

  “That is not the way,” she replied. “Your father follows tradition, and tradition does not call for revenge. You defeated the black prince in honorable combat.”

  “But I claimed this land without right to do so,” Gorliad said. “Perhaps he will come to punish me for that.”

  “Then he will have to fight all of us,” Minirteal said. “We all are united, and he cannot conquer us.”

  Gorliad nodded. He wasn’t sure he agreed, but he ceded the argument anyway. After a while his wife returned inside and left him alone at the mountain’s entrance. He stood there for the remainder of the day, and long into the night. Even after the aurora had come and gone he stood firm. When the sun peeked over the eastern mountains, and cast its golden rays across the glistening snow, Gorliad was yet keeping watch over his fledgling kingdom.

  He knew Geldryn would come, he just had no way of knowing when.

  Another two days passed. Gorliad started to return to a normal routine, helping the dwarves work in the mornings, and spending the evening meal with his wife, but they did not fly about the land and hunt as they had freely done before. Even the dwarves and others were instructed to stay close to the mountain. He knew the others thought him overprotective, but none complained.

  In the afternoon on the third day, he heard the sound he had been waiting for. A horn blast sounded three times, signaling an intruder. Gorliad looked to the north and saw a great, black form in the sky. Even from that distance, he knew it was Geldryn.

  “Everyone into the mountain,” Gorliad boomed. All did as they were told. All, that is, except for Hermean, Fenerir, and a score of dwarf warriors. The burgundy king thought to command them to go inside again, but he knew better. They wouldn’t listen to him anyway. A smile pulled his lips tight over his fangs when he saw Hermean upon his faithful drake.

  “You really should name your drake,” Gorliad said.

  Hermean nodded. “We live through this, and I think I will.”

  The drake snorted, but kept its eyes fixed to the north.

  “There are ground troops,” Hermean said after a while. “Geldryn does not fly directly toward us. He circles back for great lengths at a time, like you used to do when bringing us southward.”

  Gorliad noted the fact, but said nothing.

  The group watched for a couple hours as the dragon neared.

  When the army finally came into view, Gorliad shot a confused glance at Hermean. “I would have expected more,” he said. Hermean nodded. Gorliad looked back to the advancing invaders and watched. He counted ninety dwarves, most of which were on foot, though some did fly upon drakes. There were only seven dragons besides Geldryn.

  “Not an impressive host,” Fenerir commented.

  “Perhaps he will make a challenge as Beleriad did,” Hermean replied.

  “No,” Gorliad said. The group of dragons and dwarves stopped then, and Geldryn approached alone. Gorliad stretched his wings and moved to the edge of the platform.

  “Gorliad, not a good idea,” Hermean said.

  “Then come with me, if you wish,” Gorliad replied.

  “I was planning on it,” Hermean stated.

  They took flight off the side of the mountain and flew out to meet Geldryn. The great black king dropped down to the ground before them and bowed low to the ground. Gorliad circled over Geldryn, watching and studying the large dragon. He wasn’t sure what to make of what he saw.

  “I have never heard of Geldryn bowing to anyone,” Hermean said.

  Gorliad nodded and then descended to land roughly sixty meters in front of Geldryn. Hermean continued to circle above.

  “I come with only pure intentions,” Geldryn said quickly.

  Gorliad cocked his head to the side. “Pure intentions? What does that mean coming from one who spurned me and banished me?”

  Geldryn nodded. “I know I have not treated you as a son, and I do not expect you to accept me now, but listen to me for just a moment, and all will become clear.”

  It was then that Gorliad noted the several gashes and broken scales along Geldryn’s body. Some had healed, but many were still in the process of closing. Dried blood flaked over ragged patches and some wounds looked to be quite deep.

  “You were in battle recently?” Gorliad asked.

  Geldryn nodded. “The others that are with me wish to join your kingdom.”

  Gorliad sucked in a breath. “Why should they wish to join my kingdom?”

  Geldryn looked up and smiled. It was not the sly grin of a serpent, but the warm smile Gorliad had seen many years ago. The same, proud expression had been upon Geldryn’s face many times before. “If you do not wish to hear it from me, then go to them and ask for yourself. I believe you will find some friends among the group.”

  “Speak plainly,” Gorliad pressed.

  Geldryn almost laughed and his smile widened. “Perhaps you should speak with Algearon. He always was a better orator.”

  “Algearon is with you?”

  Geldryn nodded. “I have also brought Dalean, and her son Boneian. There are many others who over the years have come to hope on the true prince. I have hopes that you would accept them, and allow them to find home here, among your people.”

  Gorliad looked beyond Geldryn to the group. He saw a pair of hands waving at him. He couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to be Dalean and Algearon. Then, a third dwarf ambled out from the group and shouted something. Gorliad couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t need to. He saw that the dwarf had no arms. It was Boneian. Geldryn was speaking the truth.

  “Why?” Gorliad pressed.

  “Go and ask them,” Geldryn replied.

  Gorliad shook his head. “No, why did you bring them here. What of your tradition and your law?”

  “A friend showed me that perhaps there is more to life than tradition and law,” Geldryn said. “And by Algearon’s scars, I do believe that you have found something much more honorable and precious than I ever had.”

  Gorliad stood there for a moment, not sure what to think. He felt a flood of joy at his father’s words, but there was still a large part of his heart that held anger toward Geldryn. The confliction must have been plainly apparent, for Geldryn only nodded and bowed his head again.

  “I am not expecting, or even hoping for forgiveness,” he said. “But let me grant what gifts I can upon you.” Geldryn turned his head and looked t
o the group. “They are carrying the crystals of knowledge. I brought them for you. I can teach you how to use them, and then you may pass on their knowledge to your own offspring.”

  “What of your mountain?” Gorliad asked. “Will you not have other heirs?”

  Geldryn’s smile disappeared and tears fell from his face. “You are looking at the remnant of my kingdom. All else has been consumed by fire and war.”

  Gorliad stood silent. Now he understood the price that Geldryn had paid. He looked to the dragons and realized that none of them were queens. “What will you do?” he asked.

  “I will help you, and instruct you. Then, once you have learned everything I have to teach you, I will fly to the north and rejoin your mother in the spirit of a star, as is the way of all dragons when we pass from this plane.”

  “I don’t believe she would approve of that title,” Gorliad said harshly.

  “No,” Geldryn said. “We all have our faults, that is true, but she would accept the title now. It was she who asked me to right the wrongs we did you. If you do not believe my words, I would allow you to form the connection with me.”

  Gorliad shook his head. “Your word is enough,” he said. “Come, let us gather the others and take them to the mountain.” Gorliad and Geldryn flew back to the group, with Hermean cautiously following them. Only when Gorliad landed before Algearon and Dalean did Hermean finally relax.

  As Algearon reached up to rub a hand on Gorliad’s snout the dragon sniggered.

  “What is it?” Algearon asked with a grin.

  Gorliad smiled and pulled his head back. “Are you ready now to admit that we are friends?”

  Algearon waved the notion away. “Bah!” He turned away and then quickly glanced back over his shoulder. He held a hand up, putting his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart and squinting through the open space. “Maybe just a little,” he teased.