Rosinanti_Rise of the Dragon Lord

by Kevin J. Kessler

  “You know, there’s no rush,” he said, leaning his newly armored bulk against the door frame.

  Deana stopped, turned to him, and smiled. “I know,” she replied sheepishly. “I guess I am just enjoying…the ability to move fast.” Nevick nodded with a smile of his own. He was overjoyed at her newly revitalized state and never tired of watching her walk from place to place.

  “You walk, run, jump, or skip wherever you want to go, beautiful. You’ve earned it.”

  She smiled again. It was a difficult day for them both. It was the one-year anniversary of their ill-fated wedding day when Casid had burned.

  “Are you doing okay?” he asked her.

  “As well as can be expected. Are you?”

  “I’m fine,” he replied stiffly. “That ceremony earlier was something.” Deana nodded. A new statue had been unveiled in the city square. It was a scaled model of The Heart of Casid and was dedicated to the memory of Mitchell and Michael Duzel. Nevick was still heartbroken over their loss, but beneath that, he was so incredibly proud of them.

  “The boys did well, didn’t they?” Deana asked as if reading his mind. She walked up to him and slipped her hand into his.

  “They did real well. They saved us all.”

  “That they did.” She let go of his hand and moved off to the right, suddenly gripping the side of her head and swaying as though she might fall.

  Nevick was beside her instantly. “Are you all right, Dea?”

  “Yes. Just another headache,” she said with a twinge of frustration, shaking her head and gritting her teeth through the pain.

  “They’re getting more frequent.”

  “That’s not the only problem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Deana shook her head and took a few steps away from him. She turned to face him. “I’m starting to see things when they come over me. Tents…women, children, dogs. It’s like…memories that aren’t mine.”

  Nevick’s jaw tightened. “You don’t think…”

  “I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head and failing to suppress a shudder. “But they might be…his.”

  Nevick’s fists tightened at his sides. “If they are, then we will find a way to stop it. Zouka is dead, and he’s going to stay that way.”

  Deana nodded and walked up to him, wrapping her arms around the big man’s waist. “Tell me everything is going to be all right,” she whispered into his chest.

  “Everything will be all right, Dea,” he replied. But in his heart of hearts, Nevick was unsure.

  Maura gazed out over Grassan from the window of her room. She was adorned in typical Grassani garb and felt a sense of pride in her new home. Since Nahzarro had taken his rightful position as king, Maura had a new duty to fulfill: his old one. She was now captain of the Knights Mystic, a role she took very seriously.

  But through the whirlwind advances her life had undergone, she was still plagued by that final battle. She did not regret taking Kayden’s life, and she would not apologize for it. What she felt unending levels of guilt for was the death of Vahn and the near destruction that had followed.

  Her temper had gotten the better of her. She should have trusted Valentean, that he would do right by her and see to it that monster would be punished for his crimes. Instead, she had taken it upon herself to enact justice.

  It’s just as well. It had to be done.

  That was what she continued to tell herself. Sure, Kayden had helped them in an act of self-preservation. But how many untold thousands had she saved from his future wrath by putting an end to him once and for all?

  Valentean would not speak to her, would not even look at her. It broke her heart, and while she had regrets about what happened after, Maura maintained that she had done the right thing.

  She held no ill will toward Valentean for his actions following the death of Aleksandra. He was not of his right mind. But still, it had been a horrifying moment. And while she always tried to pay no heed to Aurax’s words, she could not help but recall his jeering.

  She had nearly delivered demons unto Terra and ended the world because of her vengeance. But Aurax was gone now, unseen since the closing of the portal to Lokhar.

  Turning from her window, Maura thought she saw a flash of crimson movement in her peripheral vision. She turned, drawing her daggers, but there was nothing there. Sighing to herself, Maura re-sheathed her blades, turned on her heel, and walked from the room.

  McNeil stood alone in his spacious training facility within the walls of the Imperial Palace of Karminia. Four months had passed since the battle to restore Kackritta, and now his debt to the Dragon-Lord had been repaid. He was free to rule the empire as he saw fit. Free to expand his borders. To spread out, to conquer.

  But was he free to do so? What if the Dragon-Lord took offense at his actions and intervened. He had no hope of standing against such a foe. McNeil held his sword aloft and erupted into a series of quick cuts and stabs, sharpening his skills for the coming battles.

  But what good is a sword against a dragon-god? It was no good at all. As long as Valentean continued to exist, the empire would never be the true force that it should be.

  “Fruitless, isn’t it?” a voice asked from behind him. McNeil turned, heaving the sword in the intruder’s direction. The blade phased harmlessly through the body of Aurax, the Skirlack cleric he had met upon the battlefield.

  “What do you want, demon?” the emperor spat.

  “The same thing as you, human.” The demonic cleric spread his arms out. “The end of the Dragon-Lord.”

  Valentean walked through the countryside on the outskirts of Kackritta City. He came upon a large boulder that sat at the top of a high cliff with a breathtaking view of the sunset along the landscape of his home country. It was not the first time he had visited this place.

  He remembered coming here shortly before the Tournament of Animus. Kayden had met him here. They had sat together. They had talked. It was a nice memory. It was their last positive memory together.

  Sitting atop the boulder, Valentean sighed deeply, lamenting his fallen family. Could Kayden have truly been redeemed? Was his helping them merely self-preservation, or was it something more? These unanswerable questions twisted Valentean’s insides.

  He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, watching the explosion of bright colors form in the darkness there. It reminded him of Kayden—this dark, endless void but with spots of bright light exploding to life within.

  Valentean stood and placed a large hardcover book upon the stone and left it there. The title read The Chronicles of Azulia. He remembered it was Kayden’s favorite. He only hoped that in death, his brother had found the peace he was denied in life.

  “Rest easy, my brother,” Valentean said into the sky. “Your pain has ended.”

  Shorb squinted in the bright desert sun. Too few travelers had come through these parts lately. There was a lot of talk throughout Kentanna that the new Karminian Emperor was fixing his eyes upon their land. And what’s worse, it was rumored that he was doing so with the favor of the Dragon-Lord himself. That sobering thought was enough to keep people within their homes.

  Shorb ran the best damn watering hole the Kentannan deserts had ever seen. His father ran it before him and his father before him. It was a point of pride. So, when business was slow, Shorb tended to take it personally.

  Sighing through his melancholy, Shorb suddenly perked up at the approach of a figure in the distance. Tall and muscled beneath a heavy, brown cloak, the man trudged through the desert sand with no steed, no supplies, no anything save for the clothes on his back.

  The figure walked up to the watering hole, dwarfing the slight Shorb with his impressive height. Beneath the shadow of his hood, the keeper of the land saw an unruly mop of ebony hair and a matching beard. The most intense blue eyes Shorb had ever known locked onto him.

  Slamming his palm down on the counter, the stranger deposited one silver coin.

  “Water
,” he said, his voice quiet yet gruff.

  “Sure thing, sir!” Shorb sprang into action, ladling a spoonful of water into a clay cup and handing it to the stranger, who downed it in one gulp. Shorb loved the company of customers not only for their silver but for their conversation and stories.

  “Surprised to see anyone out here!” Shorb remarked to the disinterested man, who slammed the cup back down.

  The stranger grunted in response and turned to move away.

  “Best be careful out there, big man,” he remarked, holding up a hand. “They say the empire is sending scouts into this area, plus the Queen of War and her bandits have been pillaging the outlying villages. You’d have to be the Dragon-Lord himself to stand a chance alone out there.”

  The stranger whirled on him with unnatural speed, reaching out in a blur to clamp his hand around Shorb’s throat. The petite man cried out, but there was no one to hear him as the stranger dragged him across the counter, holding him so close that their noses nearly touched.

  “The Dragon-Lord isn’t the only one with gifts.”

  Shorb gasped as the stranger’s eyes flashed briefly with purple light. The man’s face twisted in pain, and he shoved Shorb back, knocking over the wooden counter and the stored buckets of water he kept beneath it.

  Shorb gaped at the man, fully expecting him to follow up his attack, but the stranger grasped at his chest, right over his heart, and grunted in pain. The shrouded figure took a series of deep breaths, and Shorb was almost certain he had seen that same purple light pass over his gaze once more.

  Then, wordlessly, the stranger turned and stalked off into the blazing sun, his shadow trailing out behind him, growing larger with every step.

  Valentean, Seraphina, and Kayden Will Return…

  Other books in the Rosinanti Series

  Rosinanti (book 1)

  Rosinanti: The Decimation of Casid (a Rosinanti Novella)

  Rosinanti: Wrath of the Failthful

  About the Author

  Kevin J. Kessler lives in Orlando Florida, where he owns the White Dragon Podcast Network, which puts out weekly podcasts on a variety of topics from Walt Disney World, to movies, television, comic books, video games and more. A lifelong geek, Kessler can often be found at the many theme parks and local attractions in Orlando. He developed the story for Rosinanti as a sophomore in high school, sixteen years before the release of the series.

  OFFICIAL WEB SITE: www.authorkevinjkessler.com

  FACEBOOK: www.facebook.com/kevinjkesslerauthor

  TWITTER: @KevinJKessler

  INSTAGRAM: @WhiteDragonPN

  OFFICIAL ROSINANTI FAN GROUP: www.facebook.com/groups/rosinanti

  Other Works by Kevin J. Kessler

  http://Author.to/KevinJKesslerAmazon

  Rosinanti – Book 1 - The Rosinanti Dragons are no more. Since their extinction nearly one thousand years ago these primal powerhouses have fallen into the obscurity of history’s forgotten lore. In that time, humans have come to dominate the world of Terra, peacefully ignorant to one horrifying truth: ancient evil stirs around them, waiting to reclaim its lost world. For Valentean Burai, animus warrior of the kingdom of Kackritta, the details surrounding humanity’s victory over the Rosinanti are more than just a history lesson. The long-buried mysteries of this archaic conflict may hold the answers that he has so desperately sought regarding his own past. As the awful truth of the Rosinanti’s supposed demise comes to light, Valentean must stand together with Seraphina, a magically gifted princess, to embark upon a mission to maintain order and light throughout Terra. Only together can these two lifelong friends face down the resurgence of the Rosinanti legacy, and combat the greatest threat their world has ever known.

  Rosinanti: The Decimation of Casid – Book 1.5 - While an entire world away, men turn into dragons and ancient magic ignites the air, Casid lived on in peaceful ignorance. This tiny village and its people existed outside of the conflict which threatened to swallow Terra, until the day chaos itself landed upon its shores. Now, one lone warrior seeks to protect his family, his friends, and the woman he loves as demons rise from the flames to burn everything he has ever loved to ash. This man is no god, no fundamental force of nature. He is simply a man, alone against the fury of chaos. Casid will be decimated, consumed by the same blaze which threatens to overtake all of Terra. But what will rise from the ashes of this once perfect haven, forged in the fires of tragedy and loss, might become the most fearsome opponent the darkness has ever known.

  Rosinanti: Wrath of the Faithful – Book 2 - Valentean Burai and Seraphina Kackritta barely escaped the grip of chaos. Only by working together were these two life long soul mates able to combat the greatest threat the world of Terra has ever known. But when they find themselves separated, with the entire world turned against them, both princess and animus warrior must battle not only the forces of chaos and darkness that seek to end their world, but their own crippling doubts and fears. Valentean must also face the horrifying truth of himself. He is one of the last surviving members of the Rosinanti race, and holds within him world-destroying power, and the unwanted uncontrollable ability to transform into a fearsome dragon. The struggle of man vs beast is not limited to the battlefield. Valentean will wage that war internally, within the confines of his own conflicted heart. But, in the end, who is stronger? The man, or the dragon?