“You have been trained well, Khalid,” he said. “And your skill is impressive.”
“Speed and agility are important to a thief,” Khalid replied. “And you must face an enemy on occasion. Especially when you’re caught in the act.”
Erenoth lunged forward, rotating his blades in a smooth four strike attack. Khalid stepped back, blocking each strike in turn, and adding a double horizontal slice of his own. Erenoth skillfully deflected Khalid’s blades, ducking and spinning to strike low. Khalid leaped forward over Erenoth as he crouched, landing behind him and spinning his own blades in a counter attack. Erenoth rolled onto his back, blocking and flipping over onto his feet.
“Well done,” he said. “Obviously your skills against a single opponent are more than adequate. Let’s test your skill against multiple opponents.”
“How?” Khalid replied.
Erenoth sheathed his blades, going to the center of the sparring circles. With a clap of his hands, he spoke into the air, summoning the Dragon’s spirit.
“Arise,” he said.
The statues Khalid had seen earlier began to glow. Slowly, they changed shape, taking the form of Jindala warriors. Khalid smiled, realizing why the statues had previously been featureless; they were transformable training drones, powered by the Dragon himself.
Four of the statues stepped off their pedestals, walking toward the sparring circle. Khalid moved to the center as Erenoth stepped away, and the Jindala drones moved to surround him. Two of them took the form of swordsmen with dual blades; the other two took the form of spearmen. Each of them readied his weapon, and took a battle stance, awaiting the order to attack.
“Are you ready, my friend?” Erenoth asked.
“Waiting for you,” Khalid said, smiling in anticipation.
“Commence!”
The spearmen behind Khalid immediately thrust their weapons, jabbing at Khalid fiercely. Khalid spun, deflecting the attacks, and dashing between the swordsmen’s blades. From behind them, he rotated, slicing his blades at shoulder level, striking one swordsman in the back of the neck. The other swordsman blocked, stepping back to join the spearmen. The injured warrior froze, returning to its featureless state, and walked back to its pedestal. Khalid rushed forward, spinning his blades in a crossed attack. His target thrust his spear forward, pulling it back quickly to slash at Khalid as he spun out of the way. Khalid chopped at the spear, severing its tip and slicing at the spearman’s arm.
The spearman froze, out of the game, and returned to its pedestal. Khalid now faced one swordsman and a spearman. Erenoth nodded, impressed at how quickly Khalid had dispatched the two opponents. He knew the man would have no trouble finishing off the remaining two.
Quickly, Khalid rushed forward, alternating his blades in diagonal slashes. The spearman jabbed, thrusting fiercely and with high speed. Khalid sliced the tip of his spear off, finishing him with a backhand slash of his other blade. He then spun around behind the defeated spearman, dodging a downward chop of the swordsman’s blade and slashing at his gut.
The two opponents froze and returned to their pedestals, silent and defeated. As Khalid watched, the statues returned to their original state, becoming stone-like and still once more. He sheathed his blades, bowing to Erenoth.
“Excellent work,” Erenoth remarked, returning the bow. “You have proved yourself worthy of battle. Now you must commune with the Dragon once more to receive his blessing.”
“I would think the flames would have been sufficient,” Khalid replied.
“That was an attempt to satisfy your need to be purged,” Erenoth reminded him, chuckling. “The Dragon must give you his blessing, as he did myself and the Onyx Dragon.”
“Very well,” Khalid nodded. “I’m ready.”
Erenoth nodded, going to the rear wall of the sparring chamber. A door was there that Khalid had not noticed before. It was perfectly square and decorated with paintings and carvings of dragons and other magnificent beasts. The construction was well blended with the wall, appearing as merely another segment between two supports. Erenoth placed his hand on the left column. With the sound of grinding stone, the door slowly slid inward and to the left, opening the way to the chamber beyond.
Hesitantly, Khalid stepped into the room, gasping at the richly appointed walls and floor. They were black, trimmed in platinum and purple gemstones. Each metallic pattern was in the shape of a squarish knot, similar to the decorations and symbols that Khalid had seen in the homes of Eirenoch’s peasants and its flags. He admired their beauty, feeling the powerful emotion they emanated. The patterns were obviously divine.
In the back of the chamber, a large dragon statue stood on a pedestal, reared back in a majestic attack stance. Its wings were extended, fully spread and prepared for flight. Its head was facing forward, mouth opened, teeth bared. Khalid gazed at the statue in wonder. It appeared exactly as the Dragon himself, yet seemed more godlike and menacing.
“This is the Dragon’s vessel,” Erenoth explained. “This is how you will receive his blessing and make your offerings as a priest.”
“I will not sit on the throne?” Khalid asked.
“Only when addressing your priests or the general populace,” Erenoth replied. “There is no need to be in the physical presence of the Dragon unless he requests it. The idol is sufficient. Here, he will hear your prayers and offer you guidance.”
“What do I do?”
Erenoth approached the statue, lowering his head in respect, and knelt before it. He motioned for Khalid to join him. Khalid bowed his head as well, and knelt beside Erenoth, looking forward to communing with the Dragon once more.
“Father,” Erenoth began. “Bless our new brother, and give him your strength and your power. For he is worthy of your love and your guidance. Make him one with your greatness, and protect him and keep him.”
Khalid closed his eyes, feeling the chamber begin to hum and vibrate. His heart raced, and his blood pumped hot. His breath quickened in anticipation, and he felt his skin begin to warm and tingle.
The Dragon was present.
Welcome, Khalid. It is good to see you again.
Khalid opened his eyes. Before him, the statue glowed with a warm red light, and its eyes were alive and trained upon him.
“I am here to serve,” he said.
You have done well. Your skills in battle are quite impressive. You will be a valuable asset to our crusade, and to the land of Eirenoch.
“I am proud to serve you, my lord.”
Stand, Khalid, and take the chalice at my feet.
Khalid stood and approached the pedestal. A platinum chalice had appeared at the statue’s feet, filled with a glowing, red liquid. Khalid bent down to take it in his hands, glancing back at Erenoth. The priest still knelt with his head bowed as if in a trance.
Drink, my son, and receive my blessing and my power.
Khalid placed the chalice against his lips, smelling the sweet aroma of the warm liquid. It was reminiscent of grape wine with a hint of cinnamon and cloves, something one would drink to cure a fever. Hesitantly, he drank, letting the sweet liquid pour over his tongue. It felt warm and comforting as he swallowed, tingling his throat and stomach like the lotus nectar he had drank as a young man. He liked the sensation, and continued drinking until the chalice was empty. He then returned it to the pedestal and sat next to Erenoth, cross-legged and anticipating the effects of the wine.
The warm sensation spread throughout his body, coursing through his veins like a hot tonic. He felt the warmth grow stronger as it penetrated his muscles and skin, tightening and strengthening them. He sat back, resting himself with his palms behind him, and closed his eyes.
He thought back to his youth, a time of his life when he lived with honor and respect. The people loved him, seeing him as a hero to the poor and downtrodden, and he relished the thought of renewing that honor. For most of the past thirty years, he was in the service of The Lifegiver, and had forgotten about the people. He became the ve
ry type of person he hated; selfish, cruel, intolerant of failure, and greedy beyond any of the Sultans and Sheikhs he once robbed. But now, here in the presence of the Dragon, he would become a new man. He would be his old self again and live a life of virtue in service of the Firstborn.
Just as Khalid finished that thought, the tightening in his body began to feel uncomfortable. His stomach knotted, his muscles ached, and a wave of nausea came over him. He sat upright, leaning forward to put pressure on his aching midsection. It was then that he noticed the burning sensation under his skin. It felt as if he was being blasted by hot sand, and whipped by a dozen flails.
Khalid rose up onto his hands and knees as the pain increased. He turned to Erenoth, who remained in his trance-like kneeling position. The knots in his stomach worsened, giving rise to a lump on his throat. With a wretch, he vomited on the floor before him, spewing a thick yellow liquid that glopped onto the stone and splattered like oil. He groaned with the pain, trying desperately to expel more of the foul liquid as it filled his gut. Wave after wave spewed forth, covering the floor, and he struggled to breath between each wretch. Then, the sensation underneath his skin began to change, going from a burning, to a tightening. A different tightening than before, this time more painful and frightening.
“Erenoth,” he gasped. “Help me.”
The priest remained motionless, despite the growing pool of strange vomit that was collecting around the two men. Khalid rose to his knees and fell back, writhing in excruciating pain as his body continued to transform.
Khalid.
“Dragon,” Khalid whispered. “What is happening?”
Your body is changing. Let it happen and do not fear. Erenoth survived, and so will you.
“The pain…”
The pain is short lived. I am sorry you must endure it, but it necessary. It is not to punish you or redeem you, but to change you physically. When the process is complete, you will be the High Priest of Tel Drakkar. You will be a draconian.
Khalid continued to squirm as the pain flowed through him. Every part of his body burned, and his skin felt as if it were going to burst. He felt his chest tighten, and he reached up to cover his aching heart. It was beating stronger than he ever remembered and the sensation was disturbing. He had heard of older men dying of heart pain, and was frightened at thought.
“My heart is going to burst,” he cried through gritted teeth.
You will be fine, Khalid. Your heart is rebuilding itself. Every organ in your body is becoming stronger and better than it was before. Soon, you will be perfect and unspoiled by age. Be patient.
Khalid continued breathing heavily as his lungs burned. The breaths were shallow and painful, like stab wounds in his back and chest. He writhed, struggling to draw in breath. There was a feeling of suffocation that seemed familiar to him, as if he were reliving having drowned as a child. Through the blur of pain, he could almost see his mentor leaning over him after bringing him back from death. But the vision was an illusion brought on by his pain, and as he reached up to touch his mentor’s face, his fingers found nothing. Frustrated, and in agony, Khalid collapsed into darkness.
Chapter Six
Jodocus and Farouk stood amidst a great magical circle inscribed in the tile atop Jodocus’ tower. The circle had archaic symbols carved along its circumference, and a large triangle was centered within it. The two were just inside the inner circle, standing at the points of the triangle. Jodocus held his staff straight out before him, resting its base on one point, and Farouk stood in the same fashion at the point to Jodocus’ left. The remaining point was empty, and both Druid and apprentice waited for its occupant to arrive.
Several hours earlier, Jodocus had summoned Maedoc to join them in this communion. Though perfectly capable of communing with the Dragon themselves, summoning the Great Mother required the power of three. In times past, Jodocus, Maedoc, and Traegus had taken their places in the circle. But now, with the departure of Traegus, the trio had been incomplete, and neither the Druid nor the Seer were able to commune with the Earth herself.
Lately, however, with Farouk’s power growing, Jodocus had hope of communing once again. Farouk’s mastery of the abilities he had been given were a telltale sign that he was ready to assist in the ritual. Maedoc had not questioned Jodocus’ suggestion, fully believing that if the Druid had faith in his new apprentice, then he could as well.
“He is coming,” Jodocus stated.
Farouk turned to look at the vacant point on the triangle, watching as the wispy figure of Maedoc faded into existence with the appearance of a growing bubble of energy. Maedoc was transparent at first, but as he fully materialized, he grew more solid, and small, residual flashes of energy sparked over his body. The man was somewhat older, possibly in his sixties. His hair was long and unkempt, dry and graying. His robes were gray, plain and inconspicuous. The only decoration was the belt Maedoc wore. It was purple silk, emblazoned with white dragons. His staff was black, made of a light metal, and bore a resemblance to a great spear with a four bladed point.
“Welcome, Maedoc,” Jodocus greeted him. Maedoc nodded in respect at the Druid, and then turned to Farouk.
“This is my apprentice, Farouk,” Jodocus continued.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Maedoc,” Farouk said, nodding his head.
“And you, as well,” Maedoc returned the greeting. “Jodocus has told me your story, and I am intrigued. From what he says, your abilities as a Druid are innate.”
“Nature has always been in my blood,” Farouk said. “It was only when I came here that I realized I was meant to preserve it.”
“Then I welcome you, my friend,” Maedoc said, smiling.
“Now that the pleasantries are done,” Jodocus said, “let us begin. Farouk, focus on the spirit of the Earth itself, as you did with the willow. Your thoughts will assist in opening a portal for the Great Mother to project her energy. She will appear to us in the center of the triangle, and we may speak to her.”
“How will she appear?” Farouk asked, curiously.
“She may take any form she wishes,” Jodocus said. “But she prefers a form similar to that of the Dryad we met before. Take note, however, her presence is very powerful, much more powerful than that of the Dragon. If you feel that you cannot continue, step away from the circle. There is no need for you to over stimulate yourself.”
“I understand,” Farouk said.
“And remember to keep your mind open,” Maedoc added. “If your mind wanders or your focus is shattered, you will no longer be able to speak with her. But fear not, this is your first time and none of us expect perfection, not even her.”
Farouk nodded, closing his eyes and focusing his thoughts as instructed. Maedoc and Jodocus began their focus as well, concentrating their thoughts on the Earth and calling to the Great Mother. The three men stood in silence, each one adding to the thoughts of the others and strengthening the point of energy in the center of the circle.
A tiny green light began to materialize, growing larger and brighter, spinning faster and faster. Tendrils of green energy began to swirl around it as it picked up speed and size. After several seconds, the light began to take the shape of an orb, swirling with tiny clouds and bolts of electricity that arced to the open air around it.
Farouk saw that the orb looked like the Earth itself. He could see the continents and islands that dotted its surface, and the moon also began to come into existence. It slowly spun around the Earth, slowing its pace as the orb of the Earth began to settle in a stable rotation. The orb began to grow again, becoming as large as Farouk himself. It was a beautiful sight and Farouk’s heart began to pound with joy. He watched as the orb began to pulse and throb, seeming to match his own heartbeat. He breathed heavily, never taking his eyes off the orb, and never allowing a single stray thought to enter his mind.
The orb began to change shape, taking on a vaguely human form. The surface contracted and reconfigured its shape to form a body, limbs, and a f
eatureless head. Farouk concentrated on strengthening the link, allowing the Great Mother to emerge fully. His efforts were more effective than either Maedoc or Jodocus could have guessed. The link completed much more quickly than it ever had before, and the two experienced elders were surprised and impressed with Farouk’s power.
The green energy continued to swirl around the human shape, filling in the gaps and transparent parts until a fully formed female body stood before the three of them. She was very similar to the Dryad in appearance, but with a billowing gown of shimmering energy and long flowing hair. She was pure spirit, but somehow seemed tangible and fully corporeal. Farouk’s eyes widened and a smile spread across his face. He gazed into the eyes of the Great Mother, who had chosen to face him and address him first.
“Hello, Farouk,” the Great Mother said. “I have been waiting for this moment since the beginning.”
Farouk said nothing, but struggled to maintain his composure as the spirit spoke to him.
“Mother,” Jodocus said. “We are honored to be in your presence, and we ask that you commune with us. We are in need of your guidance.”
The Great Mother turned to the Druid, glancing at Maedoc as she did. “Hello, Jodocus,” she said. “Ask me what you will.”
“I have the feeling,” he began, “that the Dragon’s knowledge of The Lifegiver is limited due to his imprisonment. We need all of the information you can give us regarding this malevolent spirit’s nature.”
“The Dragon is the embodiment of my wrath and passion,” she replied. “His knowledge is indeed limited. Though he did battle with the spirit known as Absu in the beginning, he was not alone.”
“What do you mean, Mother?” Jodocus asked.
“My child Kronos assisted him,” the Great Mother replied. “Kronos, who embodies my strength and will. He, too, lies imprisoned within the Earth, but he can be freed.”
“How?” Maedoc asked.
“His bonds can be broken by natural means. But there is danger involved. A disaster strong enough to break his bonds could kill many thousands of innocent people.”
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