As evening drew closer and the time for the assembly to start, Myrthyd adjusted the Blood Stone inside his robe. Brindy waited for him at the door, ready to escort him to the Great Hall, where no doubt the assembled novices and Magus were expecting something far different than what they were about to hear.
“It’s time, Brindy.” Myrthyd extended a hand toward the door and the novice went into action.
The halls were empty as Myrthyd casually marched to the Great Hall, only a few guards stationed near intersecting corridors. Every last Magus crammed into the Great Hall, waiting for the words of the Kull Naga.
Brindy stopped outside the massive wooden doors, Tukra and four guards stationed in front.
Myrthyd grinned. They were all inside, ready for his decree.
“Tukra, open the doors please.”
Tukra nodded and the guards joined him to open the large doors, the ancient wood and iron rings creaking as they opened.
Inside, rows and rows of black robed Magus greeted Myrthyd. The seats rose higher on both sides, a wide path in the center of the room leading to the dais at the far end where an ornately-decorated chair of black walnut, polished and shining bright, sat waiting for him.
Brindy entered first, followed by Myrthyd. He strolled into the Hall to thunderous applause. The Magus stood and cheered wildly for their Kull Naga, all without him using a touch of compulsion on any of them. They’d grown so accustomed to serving that they acted on instinct rather than obedience to his powers.
Myrthyd waved slowly to both sides of the Hall, the roar of the Order deafening.
He slowly wove his way across the Hall toward the dais where he approached his imposing chair and turned to face the crowd. With both hands raised high, he silenced their greeting. Following protocol, the guards closed the doors, the sound echoing throughout the Hall. Then, Myrthyd lowered his hands and the assembly sat. After they all took their seats, Myrthyd did the same.
Brindy shouted to the Magus in the Hall. “By the order of the Kull Naga Myrthyd, we are hereby assembled for a proclamation of intent.”
A few murmurs spread across the Magus. Myrthyd’s grin slipped for a moment before he realized what he’d done and he quickly changed his expression. When the crowd grew quiet, Myrthyd stood from his seat and unrolled his parchment. He scanned the room, gauging if he needed to cast compulsion on them, but decided to wait until he was done to see if he needed to convince any in the crowd of his cause. They should come to his conclusion on their own.
When he was ready, he turned to the parchment and read.
“Dear honored Order of Eschar from the Black Tower: It is my duty this day to inform you all of a great calamity we face and my intent to thwart the evils the Drakku have brought upon our land. You know the ongoing food crisis we face and the seemingly never-ending crop failures we’ve experienced. It is my utmost belief that the Drakku are at the root of this evil.”
Several in the crowd applauded his words. When they silenced, he continued.
“For centuries we’ve stood as the only defense against the tainted blood of the halflings and the constant harassment of the dragons. I have come to the conclusion that now is the time to act.”
Applause grew louder in the Hall.
“I have discovered the means to wipe out the Drakku, rid Tregaron of all halflings, and secure fertile lands so we may feed our hungry people until we rid the curse that has plagued us for years.”
The crowd roared their approval.
“Right now, our brethren in the other Towers are being faced with this same message so we may unite in our cause. Led by the Black Tower, the Order will march south across the Dragonback Mountains and engage with the forces assembled by that heretical queen Pethunia.”
The applause died down as many looked on with concern.
“Fear not! We are aided in our quest by an army that has not been seen in Tregaron for close to a thousand years. An army so loyal, they would die without questioning why. I have created an army of gray-souls; of halflings subjugated to my complete control at my disposal. I have cleansed Tregaron of many wicked souls, only to turn them into a useful tool for our purposes.”
The Hall fell to complete silence as the shock of Myrthyd’s proclamation sunk in. He let go of the parchment, having already forgone the words within and speaking freely.
“The Drakku have cursed our land. Their disgusting halflings have crawled among us too long. I have solved this problem for all time. Our enemies to the south have assembled to invade our lands and stop our ways. We will not tolerate this! We must stand for what we believe in! We must ensure Tregaron lives on!”
Myrthyd raised his arms, spittle flying from his mouth as he shouted. The Order responded with applause and cheers.
“We have an army, loyal and obedient! We have our powers to guide us and lead us! We cannot be stopped! We must protect what is ours! United with our brethren, we will be stronger and more powerful than anything the south has ever seen! We will be led into a new world! The heresy of the south will end, and our people will live on! The Drakku will be expelled and exterminated, their evil blood no longer able to poison our people! The time is now! For Tregaron!”
The Order applauded wildly, the sound deafening. Brindy covered his ears. Myrthyd’s grin spread across his face. They have obeyed. They have accepted. The time has come.
Twenty-Six
When Ryn had flown far enough away from the gray-souls and their Tower Guard captors, he dropped from the sky and thudded to the ground. Alushia groaned from the shock to her body, but more than anything else, she groaned at the loss of Brida. The snowcat had been her lifelong companion, fearlessly standing by her side in every situation. Because of Alushia’s rash actions against the overpowering amount of gray-souls, Brida now lay dead.
As soon as they’d landed, Ryn transformed into a human, his wounds bloody. Alushia didn’t stare at them for long as a wave of angry sickness welled within her and she vomited from the stress. All she could think about was Brida.
“Come on, Alushia, she knew what she was in for. Brida was a loyal companion to the end. Never forget that.”
Ryn stumbled toward her, the wounds forcing him to pause every few steps.
“She didn’t need to die! I caused that! I didn’t listen to you, and now she’s dead!” Spit flew from her lips. She was on her knees, wiping her mouth when Ryn placed an arm around her.
“I’m sorry. She was a great animal and friend. We cannot let this be the end. Myrthyd’s army is real and terrifying. Brida knew that; she had to. Like you, she wanted to do something about it. Her courage will not be forgotten.”
Alushia wailed into her hands, the loss of her companion much too difficult. She had never realized how important Brida was to her and how much she leaned on her. Their bond was something special. And now, because of her, it was gone.
The sun was dropping from the sky. “I need to get a camp set up for us,” Ryn said as he left her. She barely registered his words as her thoughts remained on the snowcat. The terrible vision of Brida surrounded by gray-souls wouldn’t leave her. The fiery bodies closing in on Brida while the snowcat sent impressions of shared moments across the bond broke her heart. Her final thoughts had been of their time together. Somehow, that made it worse for Alushia and she fell to the ground sobbing, curling into a ball.
Sometime later, she was aware of Ryn returning. He dropped an armload of sticks and wood nearby and ignited it with some effort.
“Come near the fire and get warm. It will help.”
She closed her eyes and let Brida’s impressions flood her, filling her with the snowcat’s final memories.
“Alushia, it’s over. There’s nothing we can do but move forward. I know it’s not easy—”
“No, it’s not!”
She pushed herself off the ground where she sat across the fire from Ryn.
“She died because of me! Her death is on my hands!”
“Don’t think like that. She knew wh
at she was doing. The risks were always there and she knew that. It’s not like you purposefully put her in a dire position.”
“If it weren’t for me, she’d still be alive!”
“If it weren’t for you, she’d never have experienced the life she did. Celebrate what she was. Don’t mourn what you lost.”
Alushia closed her eyes, trying desperately to find the words to rebuke Ryn, but they never came.
“Come on, get closer to the fire. It’s gonna get cold soon.”
Against her desire to be near anyone, she moved closer. The warmth of the fire comforted her. It made her think of how Brida liked to snuggle next to her and she began crying again. Ryn stumbled closer, the wound on his leg hindering his movement, and he settled down next to her, placing an arm around her.
“It’s ok. She was a great companion. Her loss will be felt for a long time. I’m here for you.”
Alushia clung to him, finding security and safety in his arms. She sobbed long into the night, and to his credit, Ryn said nothing, letting her work it out as best she could.
When morning rose, Alushia was awakened by the sound of wood popping in the fire. Unaware that she’d fallen asleep, she was startled to realize Ryn was nowhere to be found. Jumping to her feet, she searched the trees nearby.
“Ryn! Ryn, where are you?” Her voice echoed in the still morning air. She shivered, hugging herself and rubbing her arms. Something scampered across the forest, and Alushia jumped. Was it the gray-souls? Had they been followed? She peered in the trees, hoping for Ryn but expecting a gray-soul. Maybe it’s Brida. She dismissed the thought as grief settled in. Her companion was gone. She knew it. She felt for the bond and got no response.
“Ryn? Ryn, is that you? Don’t scare me like this!” The sound stopped. “Ryn?”
Suddenly the sound of someone running burst from the forest and Alushia clutched her chest. She turned, and expecting Ryn, she was speechless when a gray-soul came rushing toward her.
“No!”
The gray-soul was a man close to her father’s age. His gray skin blended with his gray, tattered clothes. Hanging skin from his cheek left an opening for her to see the blackened teeth inside. The man pushed into her, gnashing his teeth, trying to rip her flesh.
“Get off me!” She struggled to hold back his mouth. His lifeless gray eyes didn’t register what it was doing as they were focused on a rock near her head.
The man still had some strength and it was difficult for Alushia to resist him. He pushed harder, his head whipping back and forth as he snapped at her. It moaned and growled, a rancid stench leaking from its mouth.
“Ryn! Ryn, help!” Her voice agitated the gray-soul and when she screamed, it fought harder to bite her.
Alushia clutched its thin, decaying arms and pushed hard. A bone cracked, and then another. If this thing had any feeling, it didn’t register that she had just broken its arms. It continued to snap at her like a hungry dog after fresh meat.
Like Brida. The image in her mind of the snowcat was so crisp and vibrant, it nearly tore her attention away from the danger within her grasp.
The man snarled and she could see the sky through his mouth. Alushia pushed hard, hoping her strength was enough to remove the gray-soul. It twisted and she felt it go slack. She pushed harder and it slipped off her. Sliding away, she barely escaped it lunging at her. She shoved it away with her feet and searched around for anything to help her. Her bag with the knife inside was near the fire. She dashed toward it, hoping to elude the gray-soul. Glancing back, she noticed it hadn’t gotten back to its feet, which gave her enough time to grab her knife.
Alushia approached the man, careful of any sudden movements. Realizing it lacked the ability and muscle strength to rise up, she was confident it no longer posed a threat. Stepping closer, she held the knife at her side, ready to pierce its skull when Ryn appeared at the edge of the forest.
“Alushia, are you all right?” His arms were weighed down by logs and sticks he’d collected and his mouth was wide open when he saw what Alushia was poised to do.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve got—Ryn!” She pointed at him with the knife and he looked down at his chest, then behind him as jaws snapped.
Alushia ran to him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of the gray-soul woman that had nearly ended Ryn’s life. It moaned and tried to bite her. She wrestled with its flailing arms, wincing as it scratched her across the forearms. Freeing her hand holding the knife, Alushia jabbed it into the base of the woman’s skull and all activity stopped, her head turning to the side.
Wiping her forehead, Alushia stood and extended a hand to Ryn to help him up. He was much larger than she and nearly pulled her down with him. The blood-crusted wound in his leg looked worse than she expected. With great effort, she helped him up.
“Where’d you go? Why didn’t you say something when you left?”
“I’m sorry, Alushia. I didn’t want to wake you. I know it was tough on you.”
The gray-soul she was fighting moments earlier on the ground moaned as it clawed in a feeble attempt to reach them.
“Well, you should have. These things are everywhere! Without Brida at my side, how am I supposed to know when danger is near, especially if you leave me like that!”
She glared at the gray-soul, not wanting to see the pain in Ryn’s eyes. She didn’t want his pity. Not now. She was too angry with the gray-souls to concern herself with that. They stole from her the one companion she truly cared for. They robbed her of the sweet innocence that was Brida. Her face flushed.
“Alushia?”
She stomped toward the gray-soul. It reached up to grab her. Alushia dropped to her knees in front of it, focusing all her anger and hate into the creature. “I will kill all of you for what you’ve done!”
She placed a hand on its head and sunk the blade of her knife into its skull, enjoying the moment its eyes lost their light and it fell to the ground, dead at last.
Several quiet, tense moments passed as she stared at the gray body in front of her. No longer a threat, it didn’t seem that something so weak and mindless could be so dangerous, but she knew what these monsters were capable of. Her lost companion was proof of that.
“Thank you, Alushia,” Ryn said as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She dared not turn and face him. She knew a new wave of sobbing would surely crush her.
“I did what I had to do, and I will keep on until all these things are dead. Myrthyd cannot be allowed to bring this reign of terror over Tregaron. We must stop him, no matter what.”
“Come, turn away from that thing. Let me get you out of here and feed you.”
Her stomach ached at the thought of something to eat, but she couldn’t bring herself to consider it. Not with thoughts of Brida still rattling in her mind. She wanted to find every last gray-soul creature and destroy them, ending with Myrthyd and his wretched plans and wicked stone.
“I’m not hungry,” she replied weakly. It was a lie, but she’d not take in such luxury when the gray-souls were still around.
“I can’t change back into my dragon form until I heal. It will be a while before we can reunite with your mother. You must take care of yourself. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Brida’s death is not on you.”
“Then who is to blame? You? My father? Myrthyd? None of of you forced Brida to act. She blindly followed me because she trusted me. Now…” her voice grew quieter. “Now she’d dead.”
Twenty-Seven
Jor’s gaze at the Onyx dragon was interrupted by shouting Dragon Guards.
“Hey! You there! Don’t move!” one of them called. Jor noticed two red armored guards rushing her way. The Onyx swooped down and then shot skyward, roaring as it went by. Jor reached behind her for her sword but she still hadn’t collected it from her room.
By the time the guards approached her, Belthos and the others had come running out of the inn and surrounded her.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Tozgan asked. He pulle
d off his cap and was twisting it in his hands.
The guard on the left grinned. She was a hulking woman with scars along her arms. Her blackened teeth showed through her tight lips. “When Grymryg gains our attention, it usually means we’ve got a stranger around that don’t care none for the Drakku.”
The other guard, a female nearly as tall and bulky as the first nodded. “So what ye say about yerselves? Grymryg ain’t normally wrong.”
“Grymryg?” Ori asked.
“The dragon.” Belthos pointed to the sky at the Onyx dragon circling them. “That’s who they mean.”
“And why would Grymryg be concerned with the lot of you?” the first guard asked. She rested her hand on the pommel of her sword.
If it weren’t for her siding with the Drakku, Jor imagined this guard would have been a tremendous dragonslayer.
“We have no quarrel with the Drakku,” Belthos replied. Jor glared at him.
“Why would you be called out amongst all those in the city? Why does Grymrg’s attention seem to be drawn to you?” the second guard asked.
“Perhaps he’s bored,” Jor replied. She was growing weary of the questions as the Onyx circled above them, drawing more attention their way. Leaving quietly seemed to be out of the question. “But if I had my sword, none of us would have to worry about that dragon again.”
“Are you threatening the Drakku?” The first guard stepped closer, her rank breath wafting toward Jor.
“I only mean to say I can handle myself if left alone with that thing.”
“Threats against the Drakku are not a light matter. The punishment for that is…severe,” the second guard said, a grin spreading across her face.
Jor sensed the danger dripping from the woman. She’d be a fine slayer, too, she thought.
Grymryg flew low, opening his enormous mouth and roaring as he soared above the city streets, the people running out of his way.
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