Revary

by Abigail Linhardt

  Zealnis smiled and winked knowingly at Jinx. The fairy did not share her glee. He was once again chained to her, his hands bound. His hair was grey and his wings no longer sparkled. His clothes were beginning to decay.

  “It is the Other Plane below the Nether that is opening up to swallow us all.” She pointed down. “Far below. Ultimate corruption!” she screamed with glee. “With Revary gone, you will all—the earthlings too—be destroyed!”

  With an animal cry, like a lion provoked to anger, Gwen unsheathed his sword and charged the once beautiful sorceress. Eyes wide, she raised her hand and caught the sword blade in her hands. Blood splashed out from the impact and she screamed.

  “Stupid, prince,” she cried, tears leaking from the corners of her blue and green eyes. “There is nothing that can be done.”

  Gwen pulled his sword away and Galis called for him to stop.

  “You cannot win this fight here,” he cried over the growing roar of anxious beings. “Gwen, please, come back and leave her be!”

  At first, it seemed Gwen would listen. He took a step back but then shifted his weight, pushed with all his might, and shoved Zealnis so that she fell flat. Gwen charged forward with a warrior’s cry as the others called again for him to stop. Max nearly ran forward to seize the angry prince, but Lance stopped him.

  Zealnis leapt to her feet and ran toward the Nether’s gaping mouth. “Do not kill me! Let me go to my master!”

  Gwen gave chase, Jinx dragging behind. Clare rushed after him with Galis on her heels. Gwen had Zealnis at the edge of the sundered Gate when Jinx moved suddenly with twitching, fairy speed. The fairy leapt to his mistress’s aid and plunged a long slim dagger into the prince’s back.

  “No!” Galis screamed as he lost his footing under him. Clare knelt down next to him and heaved him up.

  Jinx grasped Gwen’s arms and held them tight. “I was never the evil one, Clare,” he said. “I want to meet you again somewhere else. Maybe then we can be friends.” With one mocking smile at Clare and Galis, he fell backward into the roaring hole.

  With that, the Revarians began to leap in with screams and cries as well. They had waited for someone to start the line and now they were all going to follow. Clare watched in utter terror as beings she had hoped to meet one day, leapt into the blackness of decay and corruption without a second thought to their lives. Gwen was at last gone.

  Zealnis locked eyes with Clare. She was not smiling and did not seem sad any more. “I have done all I can,” she said in a monotone. “And I am so unfulfilled.”

  Behind them, the powerful beat of flapping wings announced the arrival of that creature they had sought for so long. Greylheim soared just over their heads, knocked hundreds of Revarians into the hole, then turned and bore down on Zealnis with his maw wide open. The sorceress looked up and screamed.

  “Not like this! I want to see the great Umbra!”

  In a massive, swooping motion, buffeting the others to the ground, Greylheim had swallowed up the sorceress. He didn’t stop his flight. He circled the great hole and spewed flames at the Revarians as they leaped into the darkness.

  Max and Lance ran to Clare and Galis’ side. The barbarian was fighting to run to the edge of the hole. He was desperate to bring his royal friend back from the edges of decay and corruption.

  “He’s gone,” Lance said, taking Galis in his strong arms to stop him from running. Next to them, Clare stared in disbelief.

  “I’ve failed again,” she whispered. The roars and cries of the dying beings were growing quieter as fewer and fewer of them remained. “The planes are all sundered. Gwen is dead. Yilith, the star, and Folkvar too. I’ve as good as killed them.”

  Max stood over her, the quiet, protective shadow she had always had, but had never known. His eyes watched the dragon’s assault on the remaining lives.

  “You didn’t fail, Clare,” he said in a strong voice. “The story isn’t over yet. We still have a final boss to deal with.”

  Clare’s heart was so heavy with sobbing and loss that she wasn’t sure she could even stand up. Galis had stopped fighting and was weeping silently next to her. It made her feel even more exposed in her sadness to see the brave barbarian in such a weakened state. He too had lost the most important people in his life. The people he had hoped to save the world for. They were gone. He had no reason to fight any more.

  “Here he comes,” Max said. The grey dragon had made sure every soul was now screaming in the Nether, being pulled into that deeper, mysterious Other Plane. “Let’s finish this now. As we were meant to do.” He knelt down and looked Clare in the eye seriously. “We find out how to stop this Umbra and then we kill this dragon. Clare, do you understand?”

  His tone said she was not to argue. She had to follow his lead now. Without any strength left to fight even the boy she loved, she nodded. Greylheim landed several yards off and even in that distance, the earth trembled from his strength and size where they were waiting. His orange eyes fixed on them. Max could have sworn he saw the dragon smirk and show its long, sharp teeth.

  There was nothing left in Revary but him and the hope that the Golden Son was still alive somewhere.

  Chapter 24

  A Dragon of Many Worlds

  Greylheim’s laugh was more than audible as he approached. It was a strange, wobbly, deep sound that Clare imagined rolling around in his great serpentine throat before jetting out his nostrils like it did. When he spoke, his voice was both a hiss and a growl.

  “Three earthlings in my presence at once. I am most honored.” He gave a mock bow then burst into a roar of laughter. “I am forced to admire your ignorant courage, children.”

  With a great exhale of hot breath, Greylheim lowered his muscled mass to the ground and collapsed, weary of his flight and fighting. He blinked his huge orange eyes and the light behind them flared up as he inspected the remaining beings before him. He sighed. His black claws were only a few yards away from where Clare gripped her sword hilt tightly.

  “When you took Zealnis, why didn’t you finish us off?” Clare’s voice was almost accusatory.

  “You stand so bravely in the face of the sky ripper, the star devourer, the greatest servant of Umbra. There is nothing left in Revary that can take you home. You must see some way out of this or you would have offered yourself to me. Tell me, earthling, how will you return to your home now?”

  “You seem to know a lot about my home,” Clare said. “How?”

  The dragon laughed in his throat, his mouth closed. “I am not like the Revarians.”

  Galis drew his sword. “You are a creature of this land. There are others like you!”

  “None like Greylheim,” the dragon roared in reply. “I am not fully dragon as they are. Stupid beasts with a mind for riddles and gold. They are base creatures when compared to me. They are Revarian, just as you are, little warrior.”

  “Who are you then?” Clare said.

  Greylheim closed his eyes and breathed deeper. “I am a dragon of many worlds. Here I appear as you see me. Another place, I may be more beast than dragon or more dragon than beast. In the earthling world, I appear as they are for there are no beasts or dragons to be had among them.”

  Clare frowned in confusion. “You look human in my world? You can cross over? Are you an earthling?”

  “Not earthling, not human, not dragon, not Revarian. To be Revarian means to be the stuff of human dreams and ideas. I am not that either.”

  Galis had had enough. “I hate this talk of dreams and stories. I am a living being just as you and they!”

  “Yes, grow angry, little man!” Greylheim shouted and rose back up to his feet. “Come and fight me, barbarian, and let us see who goes to the human world and who does not!”

  Galis gave a great war cry and charged at the insulting dragon. Lance reached to stop him, but missed him by an inch. He lunged to take him, but the dragon’s tail swooped in and pushed the earthlings back.

  “This is his fight. Stay where you
are!” he commanded.

  Galis threw aside his sword and took Folkvar’s claymore from his back. It was a much better weapon for this fight. He circled around, holding his arm out to test its balance.

  “Come!” Greylheim called again. “I wait to taste your steel!”

  Now, ready to give it his all, Galis leapt into battle. He fought with all the grace and ferocity that Clare had first witnessed when he had battled the sandpede. But now he was more determined. He leapt over black claws and swung himself up onto the dragon’s leg and began to climb, aiming for the soft skin just beneath the nape of its skull. When he reached the top, the dragon swatted at him like a fly, Galis lost his footing and tumbled down the dragon’s back. He rolled over the large and small spines, drawing blood.

  “Galis!” Clare called. She remembered how she could command the creatures of Revary to some extent and decided now was the time to use that power. “Dragon!” she screamed. “Leave him be!”

  Tossing his head madly, Greylheim dislodged Galis at last and he fell the height of the dragon’s back and cracked loudly as he hit the hard ground. Greylheim laughed.

  “I am no creature of Revary, earthling girl! You cannot command me.”

  With his right foreleg, Greylheim shook the earth as he brought it down over Galis, his black claws digging into the ground so that his captive was not squashed, just trapped and pinned helplessly. The dragon could see this was unnecessary. The barbarian’s body had been broken in the fall. He leaned his huge head down and blocked the earthlings from their attempt at a rescue with his massive tail again.

  “Max, can’t you cast a spell or something?” Clare demanded as they leapt back to avoid being smashed.

  He looked at her disbelievingly. “Clare, I don’t know what this thing is. I guess I’m a little intimidated.” When she glared back down at him he sighed. “I can try, of course.”

  “How will you even know where to start?” Lance asked.

  Max shrugged and took out his Arcanum. “Somewhere, for sure.”

  Greylheim had pushed his palm down, putting terrible pressure on Galis as he struggled to get free.

  “What I have to say is for earthling ears only,” the dragon said. “But don’t worry, you will live on in their world. They just won’t recognize you. But know this,” he leaned down so that his frightening jaws were just inches from Galis’ face, “you died bravely. That is more than most Revarians.”

  With a final attempt, Galis raised his arm and brought the claymore down with absolute strength, severing one of Greylheim’s massive claws. The dragon screamed a roar of pain then clenched his fist, Galis in his palm.

  “Well done, brave barbarian! But foolish.” With a fierce roar, Greylheim moved his head like a viper striking its prey, taking Galis between his powerful teeth. With two whipping motions of his head, the brave warrior’s screams were cut off. Content with what he’d done, Greylheim tossed the body aside.

  A bloody mass of what had once been a brave man fell just yards from Clare. She screamed, tears burning her eyes. He was finally dead.

  “They need not have died had you just come to me first,” Greylheim said as he turned to face them again. “You could have all died together.”

  “Enough of this.” Clare set her feet wide apart, blinking away her tears. “Fight us!”

  To their sudden surprise, the dragon didn’t strike a defense pose. He let out a great sigh again and flopped to the ground with shivering repercussions. The earth trembled again. Laying its head down between its forelegs, its great orange eyes met each of them.

  “Our battle is not one to fight,” he said in a slow, deep voice. “We are all going to die here and now. Umbra is coming. His corruption is here now. Look around you. See the mountains fall, the surface collapse, the sky in tatters like a ripped flag, the sun’s last embers falling. This is the world of earthling’s imagination. Revary is only here because of your dreams, stories, and the action to make those things a reality.”

  Clare met her friends’ eyes. They didn’t understand either.

  “When you hope for a great future, Revary’s borders are expanded. When you act on those dreams, they become real in your world and in Revary. When you just dream them up and never do anything about those thoughts, they die. When you push those dreams, half-created, out into the world without taking care to see they are the best they can be, those are weak pieces of this land. Corrupted ones.”

  “But earthlings have ideas all the time. They dream all the time,” Lance said. “Why is Revary being destroyed?”

  “Have you not seen your world?” Greylheim asked. “Even I am disgusted at the earthlings I see when I venture there. They do not use their minds to create fantastic dreams any more. They do not use their hearts to hope. They do not put into action that which they hope to achieve. They are corrupted and so are their dreams! They only wish. Wishes are not good enough anymore. They must do. Earthlings must be. You are losing that in your world.”

  Max said, “I still don’t quite understand who you are then. Are you someone’s dream?”

  Greylheim growled again, his face twisting in offense. “I am no Revarian! I am not of this world. I am not of any world you can ever know now. Knowing me is to know my greatest enemy. And I cannot allow you to do that. I like ignorant beings. I make earthlings hopeless, I make them crave things that will destroy that which gives them the ability to think for themselves. I prefer your weak aspirations.”

  Clare thought about the dragon’s words. In a strange, unreal way, they were beginning to make sense. She had to let her mind free of its constraints to think and that wasn’t easy. She had to realize that the material world, of gravity, substance, and physical touch that she knew, was not the only world.

  “Our world then, and us,” she motioned to Max and Lance. “Who are we? The Golden Son was not clear on that.”

  The dragon smiled. “Why should I tell you?”

  “Because you’re dying as well,” Max pointed out. “You’re tired. The corruption has you too. I thought it wouldn’t affect you.”

  The orange eyes narrowed on Max. “I am a great servant of the Umbra, not its master. It takes who it pleases. I give myself willingly to further its cause.” He sighed again. “With my sacrifice, I was able to take two of your friends. They have lost the desire to be.”

  “Al,” Lance said as Clare said, “Stella.”

  “Yes!” the dragon rejoiced. “You see it now. They are alive and prosperous for the Umbra! Wanting things that do not really make them happy, working themselves to death for a world they hate. They see no way out and are trapped by my ideas. Umbra is rooted deep in their minds. When they lose all hope, they will be loyal servants, like myself, preaching my sermons to your world.”

  “What do you want with a world full of earthlings?” Clare demanded.

  “It is they who create all things in another universe.” He smiled mysteriously. “Like your story. If your story was to be shared and understood, I would lose my battle. Your adventure has been a good one for you have grown in strength and wisdom. If others were to know of your quest, they might join you. Stories like yours cause earthlings to think mostly good thoughts. Umbra needs a corrupt mind.”

  “We just have to tell our story to stop you in our world?” Max asked. “That’s it?”

  “Hardly! There are thousands of stories like this in your world.” Greylheim stopped and coughed. His breath was not as hot as it had been earlier. “I corrupt them. I make them uninspiring, boring, useless. But so do the Revarians.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Revarians are your hopes, dreams, and stories. When they cross that line into the earthling world like so many have now, they become the worst kinds of stories. The scariest kind of inspiration.”

  Clare shook her head. “Every story can be used for good.”

  “Not ones made to frighten and not the stories a politician tells a hungry audience. Imagine a story like this entering a mind I have filled w
ith doubt, hopelessness, greed, and hate. The corruption in them is fed with such stories until they are under my control. They don’t even read stories any more because they cannot understand them.”

  “This is your goal?” Clare said. “Corrupt every human mind and fill them with bad stories? Bad dreams?”

  “That is step one.” The dragon closed his eyes as if dreaming something pleasant. “Then we take even those dreams, those stories, until they have nothing left. No will to live. No desire to look beyond their world. When every earthling is an empty husk of hate, villainy, and corruption, the Umbra will come and take your world as well.”

  “That won’t happen,” Clare hissed. “Our world is stronger than that.”

  “Is it?” Greylheim opened his eyes. “Is it really? How many earthlings reading your story will think twice about their actions afterward? Will they even know what to do? Will they understand? I am taking away that understanding.”

  Now Clare’s mind was too tied up to think. “Other earthlings will read my story? How? Why do I matter?”

  “Yes! That is what I mean, Clare,” he shouted back in laughter. “Why do you matter? Why does any earthling matter? They’d rather just exist than be! A wise earthling once asked ‘what is the purposing of being?’ What does it mean to be? Or not to be?”

  The three of them had had enough now. Clare drew her sword. Lance and Max did the same.

  “I understand,” she said. “Do you?”

  “I think so,” Lance answered.

  “As do I,” Max said last. “And I know one thing. I am going to be. I have hopes and dreams that can shake this world and ours alike. I have ideas. I want to connect with other earthlings and make it so they know about the work you and your master are doing, dragon. I understand completely.”

  Greylheim had stood up while Max was talking. “You do not know! You will die here just the same! The corruption and decay of earthlings is too great already. See how Revary falls! And you,” he spoke directly to Max, “your path is already divided. What will you choose?”