Ragged Heroes: An Epic Fantasy Collection

by Andy Peloquin

  Wizard Telling shared a small smile with Adonis and said, “He speaks the truth. The elementals are out of control. Something is upsetting the balance of magic. It can be the only reason that these catastrophic events are occurring.”

  “Pitosh! What fabrication is this? Elementals are not sentient. They do not have thought or direction. They simply are. An elemental cannot plan, cannot create, they cannot multiply. It is not alive.” Wizard Tanis glared at the younger pair, white-winged brows straightened into a seamless bridge across both pale blue eyes. He was the eldest of the Wizards, born of the Bastion province.

  Ramos placed the last set of cutlery then backed away from the table and turned to leave the masters to their discussion. Before he could reach the door, a voice stopped him. “Ramos. Wait.”

  Ramos turned back to the men, folding his hands within the sleeves of his robes, and bowed toward the speaker. “Yes, my lord Tanis?” Ten pairs of eyes pinned him to the door. Ramos locked his arms in his sleeves so as to not twitch with nerves.

  “You were tasked with observing the border between Samos and Cassimir, were you not?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Do you have anything to report to this council?”

  Ramos’s fingers twitched then stilled.

  “I do not, my lord.”

  “Not? Why not? You have been at the looking glass for a week now.”

  “My findings are inconclusive.” He paused. “I need more time to study the situation.”

  “No one asked you to analyze, Ramos. You were instructed to observe and report any unusual activity. Nothing more. What have you seen?”

  Ramos’s gimp leg twitched as the muscle spasmed, causing his robes to jerk. He blushed and heat spread up his neck to colour his face. All eyes were drawn into identical frowns of annoyance. Ramos swallowed then said, “My lords, the border shows no signs of incursion. The no man’s land is quiet and intact, but there is something going on. I can feel it.” The last bit came out in a whisper.

  “Feel? You think your powers extend to the empathic, such that you can sense what people are thinking? You think yourself capable of understanding their feelings from a distance of hundreds of leagues? Through a spyglass no less?” The council muttered but did not contradict Wizard Tanis’s assessment. “You are an untrained wizard of mediocre abilities. Your testing was an abysmal failure. You are an adept in name only and are allowed access to the keep on sufferance. Were it not for the wishes of your father, you would be shown the gates tomorrow and sent on to make your way in life, as do the rest of the commoners who cannot wield magic.” He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes bright with anger. “Return to your observations. If you do not discover anything worthy of this council’s attention within the next week, you will resume your old duties of assisting the librarian with the indexing and cataloging of the ancient texts. There, perhaps, you will learn something of value.”

  Ramos jerked and bowed at the instructions, then left the chamber as fast as his hopping gait would allow.

  Chapter 2

  Madrid’s Arrival

  Far above the foaming surface of the Forbidden Seas, a dragon flew. Perched on his back was a slight figure, neither animal nor human. Often mistaken for children, the Djinn of Jintessa were small when they chose to take shape as humans. The existence of humans was a new discovery and the first to shape-shift into the form had impressed on their group consciousness that humans were child-sized. The image stuck, as they relied on their memories to create the forms of the beasts, fish, and now the humans that they encountered. They could not shift into a creature they had never observed. To do so would be to die instantly. It was an art and a skill that took years to perfect.

  It was also impossible for the Djinn of Jintessa to leave their island home without the bond of their dragon. Djinn could not live outside of Jintessa’s magic unless they could draw magic from another source. The dragons were that source making the trip across the Forbidden Seas possible.

  Even with the advantage of the warping of time caused by the magical barrier between Jintessa and Gaia, it was a long, arduous trip. Madrid yawned and stretched, then patted Opaleye on the neck.

  We are nearly there, he whispered through the Dragonmerger bond. He felt Opaleye’s rumble of agreement deep in his chest, as a quiver under his legs.

  Good thing. I am hungry. You are sure there is food to be found on that rock? I hate leaving my nest where food is so plentiful, said Opaleye.

  We scouted the richest sources of food when we searched the island the last time. The wizard’s keep sits on rich veins of every precious source known. The deposits are deeper and more concentrated, than the best ones on Jintessa. You will be able to gorge yourself when we arrive, said Madrid.

  Will there be enough to support my family? I go on this venture for their sakes, not for yours, Madrid.

  Of course, you do! I would not have it any other way. Once we have taken over the island, your children will never know hunger.

  The wizards will resist, will they not? What is your plan, Madrid? The humans are not peaceful. They war among themselves, for petty reasons. Even if the wizards agreed to share their store of food, will the other humans be willing to share? A brood of hungry dragons eat constantly and consume vast quantities.

  Madrid sent comfort along the bond. I will convince them to share. Leave this worry to me. I have a plan.

  Opaleye huffed, snorting his disbelief. A curl of smoke that issued from his nostrils enveloped Madrid in a cloud of smoke.

  Madrid choked and coughed. I do have a plan! The wizards will agree to share. If they do not, I have a back-up plan.

  Opaleye bent his neck and fixed one glistening opal iris on Madrid. Why do you hide your plans from me? I sense that you are shielding your thoughts. There is much uncertainty in you, Madrid.

  I am not hiding my thoughts, said Madrid. Annoyance skittered along the bond and was returned by Opaleye. My plans are not set in stone. I do not want to give the wrong impression to you. I may yet change my course of action. That is all.

  Opaleye blinked then refocused on the approaching shimmer of land. My family comes first. Where our objectives separate, that will also be where we part, little Djinn. Bring sorrow on my kin and our bond will flash into dust, along with you. Do not betray me, Madrid. I sense that there is much you fear to tell me.

  Madrid glared at the bony outcroppings of spikes decorating the ridge of Opaleye’s grey neck. The island of Gaia rose through the magical haze, growing larger as the distance decreased, rippling behind an opaque curtain. With a final thrust, Opaleye pushed through the barrier and dropped down into the atmosphere. Gaia and its multiple provinces spread out below them, a tapestry of deserts and swamps, mountains and volcanoes. Verdant pastures and orchards bound the disparate areas together. From above, Gaia appeared to be a peaceful place, but Madrid knew it was not so. During Madrid’s previous scouting forays, he had gained intelligence on the internal disputes, carefully recording the names of the parties involved and who was loyal to who. He had infiltrated the governments to the highest level, poising as a youthful servant.

  Adults forget that children have ears, which worked to my advantage and will do so again, Madrid thought. Their skirmishes are plentiful and easily manipulated to my advantage. The world was poised on the edge of civil war. I need to but reach out my hand and all is mine.

  All is yours? snorted Opaleye. Who would trust you here? A shifter among men? They will slay you first, and ask what your purpose was when you are dead.

  Madrid grinned as he took in the rich spoils that slid beneath Opaleye’s wings. Her shadow ripped over the rise and fall of the land as she winged toward the central Citadel of rock where the wizard’s keep scraped the sky.

  You know only of the witches hold, which you visited before. I assure you, there is more treasure in the keep than the hold. They do not know the extent of their own keep. Tens of thousands of years old, they have forgotten more of its secrets than
they realize.

  I do not like sneaking into their fortress. It is not a dragon’s way. We announce our presence and approach boldly, inviting them to prepare to greet us. Friend or foe, we fight with honour. If battle is their desire, we will meet them with joy and ferocity, not with sneaking. Sneaking is for cowards, growled Opaleye.

  We are not sneaking! We are utilizing an area of the keep that they have abandoned. How is this different from your home roosts?

  We do not roost in Djinn areas. We claim the mountains as our home.

  Yes, and you are doing the same thing here in Gaia. The mountains are yours to claim. Did you know that dragons are worshipped in some of the provinces? You will be a god!

  Dragons do not believe in gods. We have evolved beyond such artificial constructs.

  They will worship you anyways, regardless of what you desire. They will bring you gifts of the best food, as much as you want. They will keep your mate and children fat and glowing with vitality. Your wings will shine with bejeweled health. Do you remember when food was plentiful in Jintessa?

  Opaleye was silent for a moment. Madrid thought he was not going to answer, but then he said, My family is my life. All I do, I do for them. I will stay in the keep, he growled.

  Madrid grinned from ear to ear. “Thank you, my friend,” he said and patted Opaleye on the neck, as they flew behind a cloud to begin their stealthy approach to the caves hidden in the mist. The caves were joined by bridges connecting the highest reaches of the keep.

  Chapter 3

  War in the Provinces

  Ramos bent over the looking glass, peering down into the bent eyepiece, squinting at the image presented by the tube. He straightened, stretching his back, then fiddled with a dial. It was one of many that fine-tuned the tube’s imaging. The degree marker was set for the border between Samos and Bastion.

  He bent back over the eyepiece studying the image that scrolled by in the tiniest of increments. The jungles of Bastion faded away as the moisture-starved eastern flanks of the volcanic stone flattened into scrubby brush land. Lizards appeared lounging on rocks heated by the sun and rattlesnakes hid in crevices, lying in wait for the unwary traveller to walk within striking range. The occasional black-horned sheep leapt from rock to rock, sure-footed and nimble. Ramos scanned the area for sign of human activity but saw nothing to indicate that anyone had passed by the area. The looking glass completed its arc and reset itself to the starting position with a click.

  Ramos fiddled with the image, this time stretching the resolution as far as he could, reaching for the end of the border where it met the sea. He bent back over the eyepiece.

  “Damn!” he yelled, stumbling back from the looking glass. He pressed his eye to the tube once again and a distorted face sprang into view, sneering at him. The beast was staring directly into the lens. Ramos backed off the resolution and the monstrous face resolved into the bony ridges of a grey dragon. Pale scales flashed and rippled in prismatic waves along the underside of its massive wings. Its body was lean and muscular with a tail that wove back and forth in flight, balancing the powerful thrusts into the air. The dragon soared over the tops of some feathery palms and then dropped out of sight.

  Ramos searched the sky, longing to catch another view of the beast, but it did not reappear. He straightened, relaxing against the stone wall of the tower, thinking. Where did the dragon come from, and why was it here? Dragons were not native to Gaia. He knew this from his boring cataloging work down in the library. The head librarian had set him to summarizing a box of scrolls of a wandering hermit of a wizard, who’s area of expertise was the flora and fauna of the mountainous regions of the provinces of Tyr, Shadra, and Fjord. One of the crumbling pages had spoken of the discovery of massive bones of a winged creature scattered about in caves high up on the mountainside. The page was crumbling not from age, but as a result of exposure to damp—in fact the scroll appeared to have spent most of its time scrunched up in the bottom of the hermit’s pocket.

  The cave was impossible to access but by air, and a silver ring found on the cave floor suggested that the beast was domesticated in some way, or that was the conclusion of the wizard. Curiously, there had also been an abundance of gems scattered around the cave floor, small shards and splinters of sparkling dust that had puzzled the wizard. In the end, the scholar had concluded that it was an ancient creature long forgotten and a relic to a time before the magical barriers had come into existence, possibly a stray from the mythical land of Jintessa.

  Could the dragon be from Jintessa? Ramos mulled over the thought, turning the theory over in his mind. He pushed himself off the wall and limped toward the spiral staircase, sweeping his satchel up off the ground and onto his shoulder as he went. He moved as fast as he could down the treacherous staircase, steadying himself with one hand trailing along the cold wall. I cannot tell the masters about my sighting. They will not believe me without proof. But how can I get proof? He sighed with relief as the curved exit came into view, lit from behind by the torches burning in brackets on either side. He rubbed his hand over his cramping thigh, grimacing as he massaged the knot. Perhaps being assigned to the library again would not be so bad, Ramos thought, but then his thoughts drifted to the dragon sighting again and a thrill chased along his spine. He hurried along the corridor, ignoring the servants he passed. None bowed for him. He was only an adept and rumours had reached the staff that Ramos was not a particularly good wizard, either. For once, their lack of respect did not bother him. His mind was consumed by what he’d seen, and he wanted to examine the ancient sketches and drawings of dragons.

  The twin doors of the library presented themselves at the end of the corridor. Two stories tall, the oak doors curved to meet at the top in the center. The panels were heavily carved with leaves and plants long extinct, or at least he thought they were as he had never seen any of the plants anywhere nearby. Ramos shouldered open the door and hurried off along the curving, book-covered wall, past the head librarian, who sat hunched over a large stack of parchments, a large pot of wax open next to a rounded stamp. Ramos ducked his head and slowed, making as little noise as possible.

  Just as he crossed behind the wizard, the man cleared his throat with a harrumph. “Ramos, you wouldn’t be trying to sneak by me, would you? You are late.”

  His voice was deep timbered and rumbling. It froze Ramos in his tracks, but he did not turn around. “No, sir. I am on a task for the masters. I will be back to work shortly.” Ramos clutched the leather strap of his satchel, as the silence stretched and hardened like taffy.

  “You may go. I will expect you to report here immediately after dinner. No excuses.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ramos snapped back into motion, eager to vanish from sight and memory. He took the first aisle and put as many books as possible between himself and the tedious chore waiting for his return.

  At the far end of the library was a metal ladder affixed to the wall. He climbed up its rungs and onto the second level promenade that encircled the main chamber. Small study rooms were tucked between rows and rows of books, ending in high-topped tables set under the windows for reading. He hurried past them all and a few moments later reached another door. This one was very plain and outfitted with an ordinary lock. A skeleton key hung from a peg at its side. Ramos took it down and unlocked the door then pushed it open. Once inside, he locked the door and pocketed the key, then hurried over an alcove set with rolls of illustrations and manuscripts stored tightly furled in slender clay tubes. He ran his fingers along the labels, searching until they paused on a set of yellowed scrolls.

  Ramos gathered up the curls and stumbled over to the window, easing onto the stool. The throbbing ran from hip to toes, and he groaned with pain as he settled onto the hard, round surface. His eyes were drawn to the window, their pale blue depths searching the heavens for a sign of the dragon.

  The dragon is coming here. I know it, he thought. I can sense its approach. Maybe I am not empathic for humans, but that thing is on
its way, I know it. Ramos’s eyes glazed over as he searched the sensations tickling his mind.

  He blinked and the mountains on which the wizard’s keep perched solidified before him. They created the perfect cradle, the perfect Citadel for the keep. It was also a perfect habitat for dragons. But why would the dragon want to come here? He shook his head and pulled his gaze away from the window. Pulling the top scroll from the pile, he smoothed it out and scanned it for the information he sought. Scroll after scroll was opened and rejected. On his seventeenth scroll, he found the gem he sought. The sketch was in charcoal with pigmented paints that added a three-dimensional depth to the drawing. A grey dragon, drawn in intimate detail, peered at him with opalesce orbs. The massive wings were spread wide, and the sketcher had detailed the undersides, to highlight that they were made of the purest opal right to the grey tips of the feathers. Rows of sharp white teeth curled past the narrow snout that tipped up at the end into two huge nostrils. Bony protrusions stretched along the neckline in two parallel rows of spikes that ended at the shoulder. The ridges reappeared on the tip of the tail. The dragon’s claws were long, curved, and also made of opal tipped with black. Intelligence was clearly captured in the dragon’s eyes.

  Ramos weighted down the corners in order to read the fine calligraphy scratched onto the page. The sketch was entitled Opaleye. The artist was meticulous in his notes, detailing the size and weight of the dragon, its wing span, and suspected strength. He dragged the lantern closer to study the artist’s signature.

  It was signed Wizard Fahim Tanis.

  Chapter 4

  A Mysterious White Powder

  Madrid and Opaleye skimmed low over the peaks of the Citadel mountain range, inspecting the keep. Night had fallen, and light flickered in a few of the windows on the lower reaches of the keep, but the tallest towers were dark.