Ulkand pushed Helni behind him. “I do what I can to raise her right. She’s not a problem. She’s a good child.”
“Father, they aren’t bad people. They were nice to me.” She tugged on her father’s sleeve and he bent down. She whispered into his ear as she pointed at Belthos, “He’s even like me.”
He stared at Belthos “A halfling, huh? There are many around here as we’re close to the Dragon Lands. Welcome!” He grabbed Belthos’ hand and shook it as though welcoming a dignitary.
Jor watched it unfold in disbelief. Belthos? A halfling? It wasn’t possible. He was training to be a Magus, the chief instigators of anti-halfling sentiment, before they left to find the Blood Stone.
“Can I at least feed you?” Ulkand said. Before they could beg out of his offer, he was escorting them across town toward his house. “It’s not far. I want to thank you for watching over little Helni.” Jor looked to Belthos, who was smiling. Could he really be a halfling?
Nineteen
Lailoken had learned the cavern wasn’t what it appeared to be. Not long after coming to grips with the realization that Myrthyd was indeed his son, he set off on his own to think.
“Where are you going, my love?” Etain asked.
“I have to be alone. I need to think. All of this is too much.”
Etain nodded and he was grateful for her silence.
Carrying a torch to light his way, he found a small tunnel where he thought the cavern ended. Most of the other tunnels were blocked by Jade dragons preventing him from entering.
“What’s this?” he asked himself. Carefully moving forward, he entered the tunnel. It reminded him of the mountain, where they stumbled upon a series of tunnels. Was that a dragon’s lair like this one? He thought back and remembered the stacks of clothes he assumed were from its victims. “Maybe they were from the dragon?”
He pushed forward until the tunnel opened to a much larger cavern. There was an opening in the ceiling where he could see the bright blue sky. Lining the walls were intricately painted images of dragon and man working together against a common enemy. They were depicted as human-like creatures all in gray. Dragons rained their fury on the gray men while humans, dressed in armor and brandishing swords, were busy cutting through them, heads piling up at the sides of the battle.
“What is this? I’ve never heard of such a battle.” Lailoken slowly walked around the enormous cavern, marveling at the images in stark detail. Every color of dragon was involved in the battle. On one panel, an Opal spit lightning at the gray men, bodies flown into the air. On another, a Lapiz dragon circled a ship and seemed poised to crush it. A small group of Jade dragons were in formation with a battalion of armored soldiers as they cut through the lines of the gray men.
Above it all, a large Garnet dragon flew, its wings spread wide and fire belching forth from its mouth.
“No. It can’t be,” he said as he stepped closer. The markings on the dragon looked…familiar. “It’s impossible. This has to be a recent painting.” But everything about it screamed ancient to him. The colors were faded and seams in the cavern walls ran through many of the images. If he had to guess, the paintings looked to be many centuries old, kind of like the ones found in caves near Kulketh. But if they were that old, how was Etain in the picture?
Footsteps behind him startled him. Lailoken spun, holding the torch like a sword.
Etain smiled back at him. “You found your way around I see. Interesting image, isn’t it?” She walked past him, her eyes fixed on the walls.
“These were painted to commemorate the last great venture of Drakku and mankind. Do you know how old this is?” she asked waving toward the wall.
“I assume they’re recent. I see you right there.” He pointed at the Garnet on the wall.
She smiled. “A thousand years. These images have graced the walls for a thousand years now.”
He scrunched his eyebrows. “I don’t believe it. That’s impossible.”
“My love, this is a reminder of what was and what shall never be.”
“Then you added the image of you recently. That cannot be you.”
“I assure you it can. And is.”
He didn’t want to believe it. How could anything live that long?
“So you’re saying this is from around the Reformation?”
“That is the Reformation. Though the stories you know aren’t the truth. This is.”
“I don’t understand.”
“In time you will. This division of Meanos and Deavos is false. They’re the same. Two names for one god. It’s what the Order did after this that created the break we deal with to this day.”
Lailoken turned back to the images. He scanned them carefully, looking for Magus of the Order. “Where are they? Where are the Magus in all this?”
Etain sighed. “They left us to die.”
“But you’ve got humans on your side. Surely, they must be from the south, then.”
“You’d think that, but all of Rowyth united for one cause. The Gray Army had to be stopped at all cost. They were and are the biggest threat to our world.” She paused, sighing, and then continued. “I fear they come again.”
“The Gray Army?” Lailoken searched his history, tried to recall every last great army of Rowyth, but he’d never heard of such a thing.
“Unnatural. An abominable use of power.” She hesitated, then spoke. “And something that is my fault.” Etain turned and walked several steps away, a quiet prayer escaping her lips.
“Etain, none of this makes sense. Why can’t you just be honest with me? All these years I’ve searched for you, pined for you, and forsaken all for you. The day you left was the worst day of my life. I vowed then to take the life of every last dragon and dragon-kind I came across as my vengeance for your disappearance. I stopped at nothing. I’d go on more hunts than I care to recall, leaving poor Alushia to herself with her snowcat Brida. I was never there for her because I was busy executing my anger toward dragons. I was raised to kill your kind. I embraced the calling. Your disappearance fueled it even more. How can what you say make any sense to me?”
He left her side to cool off, to let the excitement of the moment dissipate so he could think rationally again. “Why me?” he said softly. “Why me, Etain?”
Turning from the images on the wall, he stared into her soft eyes. She may be a dragon, but the woman he cast his eyes on was his wife. The keeper of his heart.
“I’ve been around a long time. I’ve known men and dragons with evil in their hearts and I’ve known those who truly are brave and noble. You are one of the latter. Your heart is pure, no matter what you’ve done. I sensed within you a compassion I hadn’t seen in centuries. I admit, my original intent was to infiltrate the ranks of man and learn what I could do to turn you away from the Order and point them to the truth. I never intended to have children and put you and our daughter into the position you’re in. But your heart…” she stared past him to a far wall, her mind wandering. “Your heart called to me. It spoke to me in ways I cannot describe.”
“I think I understand the feeling.” Her disappearance over the years only made his love for her grow stronger as he was determined to find her.
“I knew you were a great slayer in the service of the Order. The Drakku were angered at what I’d done. I don’t blame them. The Dragon Lord mating with our greatest enemy? It wasn’t logical. But I just knew…no matter what happened, you would love our daughter. I thought maybe we could work on uniting our people through our love. I was wrong. I made a terrible mistake and my deception haunts me still. I never intended to hurt you or our children.”
“Why hide our son? I could have raised him well.”
“He had the ability to weave spells. My blood mixed with yours gave him powers. Alushia did not have them, at least not to that extent. He was able to wield our power. He, like most halflings, could channel his energy through the stones.”
Lailoken scrunched his face. “But he’s the Kull Naga. What h
appens when the rest of the Order discovers his secret? He’s made no concessions when it comes to halflings. He’s brutal.”
Etain nodded. “Yes, it pains me every time he slaughters one of our own.”
“If he’s that bad, then why haven’t you done anything? Why let him continue on his path?”
“It’s not that easy. There are…complications.”
“Like what?”
Etain turned from him and crossed her arms. Her long hair waved as she shook her head.
“I cannot. Not now. What must come will hurt. What needs to happen comes with a heavy price. I am not yet ready to pay it.”
“Why do you speak to me in riddles? I want truth!”
She narrowed her eyes. “I will share when I am ready. You must trust me.”
Lailoken waved a hand in the air dismissively.
“My love, we have more immediate needs. The Gray Army I spoke of. It’s coming. Myrthyd builds it daily and we must be ready to oppose it. Can I count on you?”
“You won’t tell me about Myrthyd. You won’t share the truth. But…you want me to fight alongside you? A dragonslayer with the Dragon Lord?”
“The Gray Army rises once again. The destruction of dragon and halfling has begun. If we don’t stop them, we face elimination.”
“I lived for years trying to do such a thing.”
“You must see the error of your ways by now. The Order is wrong. They’ve forced a lie on your people that’s lasted for a thousand years.”
Lailoken silently considered her offer. He had little sympathies for the Order but he was raised to respect them. They were the keepers of the truth. But were they wrong? Were dragons and humans meant to exist together in harmony? His own daughter had dragon blood running through her veins. Did that make her worse than him?
“What is this Gray Army? What are they and what do you want me to do? I slay dragons. I don’t lead armies.”
“The time has come for you to do so. It will take time, but I think I can get the Drakku to follow you. Not all believe in my quest, but I have my supporters. There are some quite vocal in their opposition, but they’ll come around. They have to or we’ll all die.”
Lailoken closed his eyes. Everything about this seemed wrong. Leading an army, filled with men and dragons, to oppose some Gray Army in order to further peace between the races? His entire existence was wrapped in the identity of slaughtering dragons, not helping them.
“I will do as you ask,” he said quietly, hoping he wasn’t making a grave mistake.
Twenty
“Kull Myrthyd, I have news from Oakenvault.” The novice bowed deeply, awaiting Myrthyd’s acknowledgement. The Kull Naga had made a habit of remaining within his chambers while in Kulketh, refusing to see most dignitaries and others from the Order. Devouring the secrets within Drexon’s tome was the primary focus of his attention.
The novice, Brindy, had served him well the past few months by bringing him food and assorted items needed as he studied the spells.
“Open,” Myrthyd called. Brindy carefully opened the wooden door to his chambers and entered.
“What is it you bring me, boy?”
“It’s Oakenvault, sir. They’ve refused your decree regarding the halflings.”
“They defy me? What of my request to rid their ranks of female Magus?”
Brindy hung his head. “They refuse that as well.”
Myrthyd slammed his fists on the table, making the boy jump.
“Does no one act upon my word anymore? Brindy, fetch my parchment from my desk. I shall not be defied.”
Brindy rushed to the other room, grabbed the parchment and ink, making sure to pick up several quills, and presented them to Myrthyd.
“Good lad. When I’m done, I want you to have this taken with a delegation of four Magus to Oakenvault. If those White Magus refuse me, we shall declare martial law and take over their tower.”
Brindy gasped. Myrthyd understood why. It had been over a thousand years since one of the Order Towers was secured under the pretense of martial law. It was at the Reformation, when dragon and man broke from one another and the Magus won that the Crimson Tower in Fearglen fell under Black Tower control. Now it seemed the northerners were ready to flex their independent muscles. He’d have to make them come to heel. They’d join him or be forced to submit. The stakes were too high.
Myrthyd carefully wrote his decree, wording it in such a way as to force obedience while sounding as though asking for their aid. He sealed it, pushing his Kull insignia ring into the black wax. In the end, he left no room for interpretation. They’d submit or be removed from their station.
“Here, take this to Magus Barline. He’ll know who to send.”
Brindy took the sealed parchment and scurried from the room, slamming the door behind him. Myrthyd shook his head. The boy knew his place, but in his eagerness to serve, he often disregarded decorum.
“Oakenvault refuses my directives? What will they do when I use the night-wraith to turn their lands into fertile grounds for my army? What would they do when the gray-souls walk among them?”
Myrthyd stood from his table and stretched his arms, the bones in his back cracking. Since acquiring the Blood Stone, he slept very little and he was tired and weak most of the time. To counter his exhaustion, he used the Blood Stone to give himself stamina and healing, though lately that, too, seemed not enough to keep him from having a constant state of haziness within his mind.
The developments in Oakenvault bothered him. Why would his fellow Magus not want to be pure? Why would they refuse him the halflings and why would they refuse to expel their female Magus? It was only natural that they not be allowed within the Tower or the Order.
It was true that most halfling executions were carried out in Kulketh, but that was because it was the seat of the current Kull Naga. Those before him from the various Towers also held executions on occasion, though not to the degree he did. Why was it a problem now for the White Magus to send him their halflings? What were they hoping to gain from their refusal?
He’d long thought women did not belong within the Order. They were weaker and prone to fits of emotion that clouded their judgment. It was best they refrained from wielding power. It was a matter of safety above all.
The White Magus and the Blue Magus from Bayfrost had no stipulations against allowing women within their ranks while the Black Tower in Kulketh and the Crimson Tower in Fearglen expressly forbid it. The Green Magus in Woodpine were ambivalent to either side and had gone through periods of strict adherence to the old ways countered with years of allowing women into the Order. Currently, they were debating the subject though Myrthyd had made his demands clear to them.
***
When he was a boy, Myrthyd studied in the library for long periods. Without any siblings and under the harsh rule of his master Magus Breen, he preferred the solitude of the library. What he found there made him angry.
Reading the history of the Reformation, he concluded the current Order had fallen far from their rightful place.
“Right here, it states clearly that we are to be pure. No intermingling with the other sex. We are to be strong and rid ourselves of the weaker half,” he’d mentioned to Magus Breen one evening after spending all day in the library.
“Aye, it does. The Order have made many a concession over the years. Factions rise and fall within our ranks, but the truth is always constant. When we broke from the south, it was because their heathen ways were irreconcilable with ours. The truth we held dear could not allow such heresy to exist. Yet, over time, we’ve allowed snippets of it to infiltrate our lands, spreading across the Dragonback Mountains like a plague and rotting us out from the inside. My wish is that one day we can purify our Order and bring it back to the glory it once was.”
Myrthyd hated Magus Breen. The man was violent and disrespectful. This moment of vulnerability took Myrthyd by surprise. He figured the older Magus didn’t believe in the old ways. There were no signs he didn�
�t, but it never came up, either.
“Boy, leave the important tasks to those who can handle it. You spend too much time with your nose in the books. Have you studied your geography lately? The world extends beyond the mountains and it all must be memorized. One day, the Order will rule like they did before the Reformation. You might come in handy when they do.”
He cuffed Myrthyd on the back of his head. “Go study your maps.”
Breen left him with a headache and a desire to know more.
***
Myrthyd dismissed the memory. Breen was a fool and died because of it, leaving only his disgust of halflings and female Magus behind.
Drexon’s tome had yet to yield more useful information for him. He’d been studying it for months, only to come up with a few healing spells and one regarding fire that if caught in a windstorm might be useful, but other than that, he couldn’t figure out why the book had been forbidden to the Magus for centuries.
Myrthyd channeled his energy into the Blood Stone, healing his sore and tired mind. He felt the warmth spread over him like a warm summer day. Once it was over, he was alert and refreshed like he’d been sleeping for hours. The effect would wear off sooner than it used to, but for now, it was a welcome sensation.
Leaving his quarters, Myrthyd glided along the Tower hallways inspecting classes and getting a sense of the current mood within the Order.
“Magus Utrix, how are the crops this day?”
Utrix was in charge of the Tower stores and had been an advocate of forcing the Verdant Magus to bless the land with their power. He was currently cuffing a novice who’d dropped a bag of rye, spilling its contents in the hall.
“Kull Naga,” he said with a bow. “The yield is low, as has been for some time. I fear widespread hunger is but a bad crop away.”
“When we wipe out dragon-kind, our fortunes will be restored. Too long have they wasted our fields and poisoned our people with their blood.”
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