“Die, Xavion! Why can’t you just die?”
The traitor and his captain battled in one of the city’s larger remaining buildings. Twilight lengthened and deepened the shadows. A warm wind whistled through the rafters.
Specter smiled as Auron stabbed at him again with the wizard staff. “That staff can only rejuvenate you for so long.” He cut the ancient traitor’s leg, and Auron fell back, touched his staff to the wound, and it healed—but much more slowly than it had a day ago. “You see? While your dark powers falter, I remain unchanged. While you grow desperate, I grow confident. You should have learned from me all those years ago instead of betraying me.” He grabbed the chain mail headdress and yanked it off Auron’s head, throwing it ten feet away.
Auron sneered and looked back up at him. “I didn’t want to be someone’s servant!”
“Ha! Everyone is a servant. We only choose what master to serve. And we know why we are both here, at this place, now.” He spun, and the blade of his scythe slipped behind Auron’s legs and cut them behind the knees. With a cry the traitor collapsed. Specter knelt beside him. “You chose your master, and I chose mine, and now we must each face the consequences.”
“No. No, this cannot be. Letrias promised.”
Specter stood and pressed his scythe blade against the man’s throat. Then he kicked the staff out of Auron’s hand. “I am a more honorable man than you, my fallen apprentice. I remember that you used to care for righteousness. It was not all an act. And for that reason I am going to show you mercy today.”
He grabbed the man’s neck and pulled him bodily off the floor, holding him there with his feet dangling in the air. “Consider whom you serve and choose wisely, for the next time we meet in this way, I will come as the specter of death and your judge.”
Specter dropped the man to the floor. He pulled the hood over his head and faded into invisibility. Auron wept and wiped at his bloody nose, then he whispered. “If only I knew that repentance could bring me forgiveness, then I would.” He frowned, jumped for his staff and broke it across his knee.
A pulse of energy shot down the broken sorcerer’s tool, exploding through Auron’s leg. The traitor grabbed his leg and screamed and wept.
Specter grasped a fallen beam and hung his head. And he let a tear slip down his face. For there, not twenty feet away, groaned a man he had once loved as a brother and treated as a son. But maybe this time mercy would pave the way to repentance. Maybe a traitor who betrayed his new master could resurrect to new life.
Turning, he stepped down onto the street and knelt with hands folded. “Send thy prophet, my Maker. I pray.”
26
THE END OF SORROW
Vectra motioned for Oganna to come closer to the wall of stone as she threw her weight against it. The stones grated, and the hidden door opened inward to reveal a dark corridor beyond. Oganna stepped inside as Vectra closed the door behind them.
“Vectra, do you see any torches in here?”
The megatrath grunted. “It’s pitch black. I can’t see anything.”
Oganna drew Avenger and let the silver robes adorn her sore, scarred body. The air smelled stale, and the light from her weapon showed thick cobwebs on the walls. It had taken two days of searching for them to find this place. It had been cleverly concealed in one of the buildings around Ar’lenon by a false wall in what appeared to be a distinguished home.
“This place looks as though it could use a good cleaning.” She ran her finger along the grimy wall. “I wonder why the giants didn’t maintain it.”
Vectra grunted again as they entered a large, square room decorated with runes and carvings. A long, flat stone table adorned the room’s center. Gently she laid the linen-wrapped body of the brave giant king onto the tabletop. Next she heaved aside a blank square stone from the front of one of the tomb’s many recessed chambers. Behind the stone lay a hole large and long enough for the body.
“Here, Princess, the epitaph has not been written.” She leaned the stone against the table.
An oversized chisel and a hammer rested in one of the walls. Oganna fetched them to the blank stone slab standing as high as her head. The giants’ tools were almost too big for her to manipulate, but she chipped away at the stone for the next few hours until she had engraved the words she wanted:
Here lies Gabel, King of Burloi
In life he was magnificent
In death he was immortalized
In memory he will be loved
Our friend, may you rest here in peace,
Undisturbed, until the eternal God claims this world.
“It is a fitting monument for a brave man.” Vectra scraped her claws on the floor. “Now, let us put him to rest.” She slid the wrapped body—feet first—into its chamber, and then reached to a pack tied on her back and set it on the floor.
Oganna opened it and pulled out a rich purple cloth. This she laid over Gabel’s body, then drew out his cumbersome sword. She had spent the better part of three hours cleaning it the other day when she had found it, and now the blade and handle shone as if new.
Vectra accepted the weapon from Oganna. Balancing its blade in her claws, the megatrath rested it lengthwise on the purple cloth.
Oganna reached into the pack for one final item: the giant’s silver crown. “He said he was king of Burloi,” she whispered. “No king should be buried without his crown.” As she lifted the crown onto the king’s chest, the diamond augmented the light flowing from her sword.
Vectra heaved the heavy tombstone with Oganna’s epitaph in front of the chamber, sealing it against prying eyes. Oganna melted the seams together with Avenger’s fire.
She knelt on the floor, and Vectra followed her example. They remained like this for a long while, paid their respect to the dead, then rose to go. Oganna glanced around the tomb, noting the other stones along its walls. She pulled her cipher from her pocket and translated several of the ancient writings. “Vectra, am I getting this right? Most of it is gibberish to me.”
“That’s because most of the things written on these stones are names and titles.”
Oganna put away her cipher and walked out with Vectra. The creature closed the secret door behind them and together they built a false wall out of the rubble to conceal it from any future explorers. Oganna, now that she stood in the light of day again, veiled her face with a white cloth and walked in silence up the ramp to Ar’lenon. She paused for a moment to admire the colors of the sky as Yimshi set toward the west.
Tomorrow she and the megatrath would start the return journey to the Hemmed Land. Oh how she dreaded what people would think when they looked at her. Would they keep their distance and avert their eyes, or would they gape and stare until she was embarrassed to tears? The ‘hideous freak,’ that’s what they might call her. A freak! She scolded herself for wallowing in self-pity and reminded herself that she still had much to be grateful for. But though she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew that her scars would forever change her.
That night Oganna watched Vectra lie beside the enormous fireplace in the main chamber. Neneila coiled next to the creature. It seemed the two had bonded. The megatrath closed its eyes and breathed deeply and slowly.
Oganna rose from the fireplace and wandered one last time up the steps to the observation deck of Ar’lenon Citadel. There she screamed out her pain to the sky. There she cried anew for her brave martyr Gabel—he was but one of many that had died in her defense, but he had done so without a hint of regret. Evil had risen and claimed the life of a noble king.
“Why did this have to happen?” She leaned back against the roof and covered her face with her hands, but as soon as she touched her scarred self, she ripped the veil from her face and threw it off the platform.
In that moment the clouds flashed with white light and, looking up, she saw great wings spread in the sky. Albino descended upon the citadel and settled on its pinnacle. His claws gripped the roof’s steep surface and held him with seeming ease
in spite of his great size. His pink eyes glinted as they gazed into hers, as if seeing through the flesh to search her soul.
She caught herself staring, and she marveled at how calm she suddenly felt with him nearby. Even before he said a word, she felt as if he had done a world of good. She basked in his presence.
The dragon wrapped his white tail around the roof, and his boney lips curled into a smile. “Do not grieve for Gabel, my daughter, for what he did, he was pleased to do for you. Seeing you brought him hope for the future, and your innocence reminded him of the worth of sacrifice.” Albino reached out one clawed hand and lifted her chin. “Your mother would be proud of you.”
She lowered her eyes, ashamed to let him see what she had become. “It—it was not only for him that I was crying.”
He slid down the roof. His claws cracked the tiles, and their pieces slid off, rolling over the platform and falling into the city as he came to rest on the platform. She could sense his penetrating gaze still upon her as he rumbled in his chest. “Hold still, my dear, this may hurt.”
Oganna felt as if her skin burned with fire. She cried out as the pain increased and clutched her hands over her face. Between her fingers she lifted her gaze to the noble white face. The mighty creature returned her gaze, unwavering.
Cracks formed on the dragon’s facial scales and glowing red blood oozed forth. The dragon growled, shook his head. It grasped the citadel’s roof with one hand and bent the metal supports, still growling softly. Suddenly she knew what he had done, what he was still doing—all for her.
The wounds Razes had inflicted, the horrendous disfigurement, spread across the dragon’s face and raced down his neck, even to his chest. But not a single tear fell from the dragon’s eyes, though every fiber of his body trembled.
She ran to him, ignoring his glowing blood flowing over her body. His arm clasped her against his chest. And she wept. His cool scales soothed her skin. The pain in her face melted into warmth.
“Now.” He held her at arm’s length and ran his eyes from her feet to her head. “Ah, yes! That is much better.”
At first she reached to feel her face, then she hesitated and gazed up. But a brilliant glow radiated from his face, forcing her to avert her gaze. She knew that scars had destroyed his image, and she wanted to weep on.
The dragon, however, whipped his clawed fingers around and held up a silver mirror. “You are the offspring of a dragon, my child. We are a beautiful race. Scars do not become you.”
She beheld her face in the mirror—restored, whole, and beautiful. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. Deep in his chest Albino rumbled, and then he laughed. His mighty arms held her in a tight embrace. The gratitude she felt could not be expressed in words, so she didn’t say anything. Instead she let him feel it.
At last he set her feet on the platform. She gazed up at him with tears of joy in her eyes and made the request that now burned her heart. “What of Gabel? Would it be possible—to restore his life?”
“Oganna, my child, your heart is good, and you have kept your mind pure. But though I could restore his life, yet for your sake I will not. The Creator has a plan for everything, and even this sorry event had to come to pass. The loss of a friend is a hard thing to bear, but in dealing with it you will be strengthened, for you must learn now how to cope with the loss of those to whom you are the closest.
“Nevertheless do not fear. You will see Gabel again.” He angled his magnificent face toward the sky and snorted a gentle flame. “Just look at how those stars are shining tonight.”
A tear for Gabel slipped down her cheek.
“There, there, enough weeping.” His glowing face smiled as he flexed his wings. “This is the end of sorrow in this place, Oganna. Yet, this is not the end of your journey. Hard times lie ahead. Remember always that you are mine, for I will be watching over you through it all.” With a final smile he spread his magnificent white wings. They seemed to cover the entire sky, and she wished he would stay and wrap her in them. His leg muscles rippled, his wings beat downward, and he ascended into the night.
As she watched him go, she ran her hand over her smooth skin before calling after him. “Goodnight … Grandfather.”
Somersaulting through the air, his whole body glowing, he glanced back. “Goodnight, my precious granddaughter. And know that I am always watching out for you, even when it seems I am not near.” Then he shot into the night sky, streaming away like a blazing comet of white over the distant horizon.
The cool night wind howled through the city streets, bearing a sad note of finality. A formerly powerful nation had been overturned, its people slain, and its buildings burned. Only Ar’lenon and its damaged ramp stood whole. She looked around one last time and then entered the citadel to descend the stairs.
In the morning Oganna packed her tent and goods and put them on Vectra’s back. The megatrath glowed with ecstasy. “My goodness, don’t you look lovely today.” She gave a toothy grin, and Oganna smiled back. She had revealed the truth of her heritage to the creature, and the megatrath treated her with all the more respect.
Whatever the dragon had done to her had not only healed her body but had revived her spirits as well. His blood stains covered her clothes, reminding her of the pain he suffered on her behalf.
She slapped the megatrath in a playful manner, then waited for her to lower her neck so she could climb aboard.
When Vectra swung open the doors, fresh morning air filled Oganna’s lungs. The megatrath bounced onto the dimly lit ramp and rumbled contentedly in her throat. “We are finished here.”
Down the ramp and onto the highway they raced. The eastern horizon brightened, blazing orange and yellow streaks across the sky. Not a single word more passed between them as they left the city. Oganna felt Yimshi’s rays warm her blood, and her hand dropped to the Avenger’s hilt. She fingered it for a moment and then, as Vectra crested the rise out of the valley, she turned for one last look.
The bodies of the giants lay in the streets, on the collapsed buildings, and on the ramp to Ar’lenon. A dark cloud rose from the north and grew in size as it approached the city. The sounds of scolding birds fighting with one another to reach the corpses soon filled the valley as flocks of vultures and ravens came to the feast.
“The wizard has fallen, and now the birds will pluck the flesh from his bones.” Vectra stamped her feet with satisfaction, pivoted on her rear four feet, and galloped to the south. Her six legs beat against the ground, carrying Oganna quickly away.
Oganna drew her sword and held it aloft. The silver robes covered her again, and her blade turned crimson. Whatever the future held, she would face it with the knowledge that she was the grandchild of a dragon. Around her neck the viper slept. Oganna sheathed the sword and leaned forward so that Vectra could hear her. “Let’s go home!”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It is an amazing feeling to look at my second completed novel, knowing that God has blessed me in letting me fulfill my writing dream. This particular work was been in-progress for several years. Originally it was going to be the first novel in The Sword of the Dragon series.
I want to thank my wife for her steady support. Truly I believe she is my number one fan and she is a wonderful mother to our son.
To my son, Andrew. Someday, when you’re old enough, I hope that you will pick up these books and know how passionate your dad is about stories. They can educate and teach, just as Jesus taught us.
To the wonderful people at AMG, thank you for making my publishing dreams a reality!
Thank you also to Robert ‘Treskillard’ for accidentally suggesting the fantastic change to Albino’s interaction with Oganna after the battle for Ar’lenon. That scene is now one of my favorites in this novel.
And lastly to all my wonderful fans! This journey would not be as much fun without you.
Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon) Page 37