“Nismerdons? As in the giants that warred with ancient dragons?”
“Yes. I don’t know how much the sages have heard about the Advent, but at least one nismerdon could be connected with the cult.”
“And who do I say sent this message?”
“They can call me Mercer. I am from Etoc, but my allegiance is to myself and a handful of companions.”
She nodded and started to walk passed us, but stopped when she heard Ghevont say, “Excuse me, miss? I, that is, we did not get your name.”
“Ah, how rude of me. I am Dashay Ramla.”
Putting her hands on the scholar’s shoulders, Clarissa said, “And this fetching fellow is Ghevont. I’m Clarissa. Nice to meet you.”
Dashay smiled when she understood what was happening. However, with no time to do more than be polite, she said, “I am honored. I shall return with the reply.” The scribe stepped into the rain, pulled up her hood, and shouted, “Gollo! Come down, baby!”
There was a loud rustling on the roof. Pieces of vine fell off as a grumbling squawk startled anyone still asleep. A bright green feathered form jumped down next to Dashay. It shook itself like a dog to rid itself of excess water.
Gollo’s head and body was a tad over ten feet long, with its stout tail adding another seven. The shiny olive plumage enclosing its body and most of its tail looked like the fluffy fleece on a lamb. Its darker wings held the stiffer flight feathers. And rather than long quills that went down the length of its plucky wings, lots of little feathers grew out of them. The tips of these feathers were colored yellow, making it look as though hundreds of attentive eyes were staring at whoever stood behind its spreading forelimbs. The tip of its tail had a fan of the same feathers. At the end of a short neck grew a squat lizard head that had its jaw replaced by a white parrot-like beak.
Dashay scratched Gollo behind its lower beak, getting her mount to lower further so that she could slide onto the dark green saddle strapped on its back. When she secured herself, Gollo rose its head and chest and began pushing forward using its thick scaly legs. The beast next flapped its wings as hard as his muscles allowed until he obtained the necessary force to lift its weight off the ground. Gollo continued flapping hard for another fifty feet before he finally stabilized.
Aranath grunted and said, “Thelki normally like to drop off tall trees or cliffs before taking flight. Even then they know not what grace is. It doesn’t help that he’s wet.”
“Why not hand her the sword?” asked Clarissa.
“That was my next step if she needed more persuading,” I answered. “Anyway, a talking sword might still be taken as a mere trick.”
After explaining that their master flew off to give a message to the sages, her students offered us hot bread, butter, and eggs. None of the pupils had yet been able to summon a thelki, which didn’t surprise Aranath. A compassionate, benign human had the best chance of summoning a thelki, but that was only one part of the calculation. The rest of it came down to casting skill, persistence, and luck—three factors that on their own made a thelki no easy catch.
As we ate and waited, several students started their training in the center of the temple. Seven oval runes were carved here, each one meant to send the lure to the dragon realm that could attract a young thelki. If a thelki touched the magical essence and the beast did not (or could not) resist the spell, then it would be teleported to Orda. From there it became a matter of holding the summoning bond until a pact had been made between summoner and creature. The pact generally came in the form of a blood seal made over the rune, but since not all creatures had blood, another organic piece was sufficient.
If the summoning and bonding was successful, then most of the students told us they would fly to the dragon temples and train further to become sages. One meek girl, however, said she simply enjoyed the idea of having a sweet-tempered, nonjudgmental thelki as a companion. Unfortunately for her and the others, there was no real way to tell if a thelki would ever be attracted to their lure. One student said it once took someone sixteen years before a thelki responded to their spell. Most gave up long before that.
I did not yield my effortless vigil over the next hour. Ghevont looked to the skies more often than I did, to which Clarissa giggled every time she spotted him doing so. The scholar did not understand her amusement. A few minutes after an hour of waiting, a perceptible sign that my wait ended came as a fleeting squawk scarcely louder than the pattering rain.
Looking in the general direction of the sound had me picking out two flapping thelki coming our way. They had to get pretty close for me to recognize the green one and see that its partner was white and twenty percent larger, give or take five percent. When they landed I saw that the striking white thelki was being ridden by a small black woman with a shaved head and wearing a bulky brown cloak. As she climbed down her mount, I noticed that she was an older woman with a tree branch-like cane helping her support her curved back.
Dashay ran up to the temple and asked everyone but me to get to the bed side of the temple. I stood there waiting for the sage to slowly make her way up the steps and stop a few feet in front of me. I don’t know how she got around. Her eyes always looked to be closed and her head never cared to raise itself from its drooped angle.
With a voice hampered by dried phlegm, she said, “My name is Eloise Somerset. What is your dragon’s name, child from Etoc?”
“I have a feeling you figured it out.”
“There aren’t many paths left in Orda to summon a dragon’s power, and only one I know of in Etoc.”
“Nimbria.”
“Indeed. Aranath, I believe.”
“Aranath the Sky Lord, to be precise. I realize his name is not looked on too kindly for his role in the war.”
A near imperceptible, puzzling smirk stretched out her lips. “No, it is not.” Her peculiar smirk left her as soon as it came. “But if his own kind has allowed him to live this long in his cage, then we are in no position to govern his fate or his connection with you.”
“Are you in a position to help me? I need to meet someone knowledgeable about nismerdons. Given the supposed history between the races, I would like to speak with a dragon to find out whether their realm keeps more than mere fables.”
“And why do you believe giants have appeared on our world?”
“I was with an Alslana force when we found an Advent base in the Uthosis mountains. Within a volcano were markings Aranath recognized as belonging to the nismerdon. Many mounds implied large beings buried underneath, and several were uncovered. We also know much of the Advent’s magic is not human based.”
“Hmm, you sound convinced of your words, at least… Fine, I see no harm taking this a little further. You will ride with me to meet the others. Your friends must stay here for now. Is that all right? Dashay will treat them with great courtesy.”
“I have no doubt. Lead the way.”
As I let the old woman walk at her own pace, I called over the vampire and scholar to update them. I thought Ghevont would have been disappointed at not being able to see a treasure trove of dragon knowledge, but the prospect of staying near Dashay must have sent his heart all aflutter, whether he understood the effect or not.
“Ghevont?”
“Yes, Mercer?”
“A piece of advice. If you’re going to talk to Dashay, for the love of the gods, don’t talk about corpses.”
“Why would I speak of corpses?”
“Because half of your conversations end up there.”
“Oh, I didn’t notice.”
“I know you didn’t. Just keep that in mind around her.”
“Okay,” he said thoughtfully.
I slapped his shoulder and went up to the white thelki. After Dashay helped the sage onto her saddle, I sprung upward to place myself behind the rider. Despite a thelki being a little more capacious than a griffin, I still had to curl in my legs to not restrict the lizard-bird’s wings. In addition, the saddle presented the same safety f
eatures as when I rode the griffin.
Once I said I was secured, Eloise asked, “Have you flown before?”
“I recently flew on a griffin.”
“Good. This will be similar.”
Identical to its smaller counterpart, the thelki started with a running start. It briefly felt like a combination of a galloping horse and the shaking of a stagecoach, but it did end up transitioning into the griffin idea of flight. My stomach took a new position nearer my spine as the thelki rose higher and higher at a steep angle. This lasted for a couple of minutes before leveling out. What annoyed me more was flying straight into the rain, but that was also made better by the even flying.
Judging time and distance was tricky for non-fliers, particularly when a passenger like me was just trying to preserve their balance. All in all, I’d say we flew about ten minutes before I saw us heading for a tight cluster of three mountain pillars a mile tall. Reddish streaks of rock augmented the greenery growing on every side. Bridges of stone linked all three. The thelki headed for a protracted balcony on the southern pillar. The beast jutted out its back legs so that it could grab the raised rim of this balcony and come to a sudden stop.
After helping the elder to the ground, I turned around to see over thirty of her fellow sages lined under the roof of another open-air temple invaded by plant life. This temple had a stove at each corner and four heavy wooden tables at the center. The sages all wore cloaks, but since the garments were of different colors and in different stages of disintegration, I assumed they were worn due to the rain rather than as a statement of their collective fashion sense. Most were women, dark-skinned, and middle-aged or older, but a handful stood out from the collective.
Specifically, a light-skinned young woman who must have been from Wregor or its neighbors. She was undeniably the youngest sage here. The closest I had gotten to learning what a woman from Wregor looked like had been watching the unwomanly Yang Hur, but he had supposedly been born far from central Efios to mixed raced parents. I had gotten gross exaggerations of the facial features of the Wregor people through jokes I overheard from criminals and soldiers.
So unless she misrepresented her people using magical influence, the sage’s eyes were not touching together or skewed to the point of being vertical, and her lips certainly did not resemble a duck’s. Her eyes were a little narrower compared to those I had seen on my side of Orda, and her lips puckered fuller than the average stick figure, but these features only added to her distinct beauty. I found it disheartening that her summoning a thelki proved that she was no type of girl to get involved with someone like me.
Anyway, I followed Eloise to her compatriots as her winged companion dropped behind the balcony and flew off to find a better perch.
On reaching the cover of the roof, the sage snapped her cane in front of me, getting me to stop. She then moved on a few more feet and said, “It’s as we suspected, esteemed sages. This boy wields the link to Aranath the Sky Lord. He claims nismerdon markings have been found in the Vyalts, along with a nismerdon burial site. At minimum, the Advent are seeking to use nismerdon magic to empower themselves.”
“At worst,” I added, “they’ve already awoken several giants and they’re gathering strength to do who knows what. Alslana’s former king will soon spread this warning to every corner of Orda, so my words will have merit beyond my own mouth. I have no time for you to hear the warning through the grapevine, so here I am. Can you help me contact the dragon realm or not?”
A few of the sages murmured to those next to them, but the oldest man in the group stopped the mumbles when he asked, “Why do you fight, Mercer of Etoc?”
Admiring the old man’s snow-white beard, I answered, “It’s all I know how to do. The Advent made sure of that. They’re even showing my brother that as we speak.”
“I see… My name is Quandell Hermoon, head of the dragon sages living in the Dragon Spire Temple. Yes, we have a way to summon a dragon. Vlimphite stones filled with the prana of dragons can power a lure designed to activate a rune in the dragon realm. Should it choose to, a specially chosen dragon will enter the rune and be summoned to our own. I was not even born the last time the sages called upon the dragon realm. With our current number, if more than five object to the summoning, then it cannot be done.”
“I’ll work to change any objecting minds, if need be. When will you vote?”
“Before coming to that, I imagine several of the sages have a few questions for you. Anyone who wishes to ask a question may do so now.”
Taking a small step forward, one of the pale skinned elders asked, “Exactly how did you come across the sword? Did someone hand it to you?”
“No, I found it in Nimbria myself.”
“Then there was no test of your worth by Aranath or anyone else?”
“Neither of us was in any position to wait for better options. He saved my life and I help him experience life beyond his cage. It’s that simple.”
“But what of your commitment to following the path of a Veknu Milaris?” asked a woman somewhere in the line.
“Not to decry the old ways, madam, but they couldn’t prevent the War of Dragon Fire from happening, so they might be a better fit for thelki summoners for now. All the same, I recognize that the old ways did work for a long time, and I would like to learn as much as I can from those wiser than I.”
“An honestly noble assessment, if thou truly means it.”
“There’s only one way to find out how serious I am.” I took a deep breath and walked closer to Quandell. Then, getting on a knee and bowing my head, I said, “I wish to summon my own flying ally, and I humbly ask for your aid on that venture as well.”
The old man chuckled. “Rise, child.” I did. “Those that consider themselves dragon knights are said to only kneel before the gods. May that be your first lesson from me… Does anyone have any objections to summoning a dragon?” Many looked at one another with expressions that ranged from trepidation to detained eagerness, but no one said anything. “Very well. I suspect curiosity is holding the tongue of any skeptics. A dragon will also help us determine what to do with you. Ning! Everson! Gather the dragon crystals and meet us at the rune.”
The youngest sage and a thirty-something man put up their hoods and ran out the temple, heading for the bridge that led to the western pillar. The larger group turned and walked toward the bridge that led to the eastern pillar. From my previous view in the air, the eastern pillar stood as the tallest and broadest peak of the three. The bridge hadn’t appeared all that long from the air, but standing at its end showed that the connection of rock was about a hundred and fifty feet long. It sides curved four feet high, creating a nice bowl for water to collect, so a few holes had been bored every few paces to let the water drain.
I heard squawks from thelki, but as I couldn’t see them, I guessed they hid somewhere in the crags and foliage below. What I did perceive as I crossed the bridge was a ring of trees growing around the flattened peak of the pillar. We went toward the epicenter of the cleared area, which measured somewhere between one and two acres. The group of sages spread outward to surround a rune a hundred feet in diameter.
The two courier sages returned, each holding a small chest. Ning and Everson opened their cases and took out pinky-sized crystals. They then proceeded to embed the red minerals into holes scattered throughout the rune. I counted nine implanted crystals before they closed their cases and joined their fellow sages.
To me, the lead elder said, “Place your hand on the rune.”
“You want me to summon the dragon?”
“You should begin to sense the amount of power required for such an act. Release your prana into the groove of the rune. Send it flowing to the nearest crystal and let it flow naturally from there. Hold the spell for as long as you can so that the dragon on the other side will know this is no fluke.”
I knelt and rested my palm on top of the first crease. As I did with the miniature runes on the dragon stones, I freed the in
visible prana from my body and had it latch on to the hard rock. The first crystal was ten feet away, putting it well within my range. The mineral seemed to react to my prana. Similar to the magnetized rocks Ghevont liked to experiment with, the crystal attracted my prana toward itself. When my piece of spirit reached it, a smaller rune lit up within its parent. The ruby light rapidly propagated to more crystals and the circular runes they held dominion over.
All nine crystals shed their steaming power into the grooves, producing a sharp glow that illuminated the clouds above us. My prana rushed out of me at an alarming rate. I slowed the momentum with slow, deliberate breaths, but I wasn’t going to last more than half a minute before fainting. When that half minute had nearly come, the elder bent his timeworn body so that he could add his power to mine. The others soon did the same, alleviating my burden by thirty fold.
Not long after the last sage added their prana, a blast of wind and the cold rain it carried almost knocked me over. A series of rumbling clicks secreted from the dragon silhouette now in front of me. Aranath responded to the clicks by growling inside his throat. Most of the scales on this dragon were of a dark purple and narrower than those of Aranath. Lighter shades of purples and hints of other colors tinted the web of its wings and a long, upright frill that started behind its python-like head and grew all the way to the tip of its tail. Including the tail, the dragon was probably a good fifteen feet longer than Aranath, but also leaner and lighter. Its wings, while large, did not appear as great as Aranath’s.
“I should have known,” said a perturbed Aranath. “Iterra.”
The dragon’s fearsome crimson eyes skimmed through the humans surrounding it, its long neck giving it a good field of vision without having to move the bulk of its body. A few of the sages had indeed fallen over from the gust and were getting back up. I and the other sages, including Quandell, kept their hands on the rune, which still glowed, but with a weaker light. The dragon stopped its evaluation to look at an unusual sight on these peaks—the hilt of a sword.
Flight of the Dragon Knight (The Dragon Knight Series Book 3) Page 18