Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Terrwyn found Aura outside in the castle courtyard with Dillan, the two dracen, and Sir Calor, one of the few knights to have survived the Wizard’s razing of Riversmeet. Dillan had given Sir Calor the duty of rebuilding of the Stromland’s army.

  Terrwyn nodded to Aura. “It is good to see you, General,” she said. “Though I realize your reasons for visiting are not pleasant.”

  “I am afraid you are correct, Your Majesty,” Aura replied solemnly.

  “The White Fortress has fallen to the armies of Abaddock,” Dillan blurted out.

  Terrwyn’s eyes grew wide. “Armies of Abaddock?” she said as she found her mouth dry. Her dream made perfect sense now.

  “Yes,” Aura replied. “This is not some force of drakmere that we are dealing with. It is an army of se’irim, led by shedom flying on the backs of drakons.”

  “Can you alert Auraehalis?” Terrwyn asked.

  Aura shook her head. “It will do no good, Terrwyn,” she said as she dropped the young Queen’s formal title. “If I return to Auraehalis, I will be arrested as a traitor. They will send no help to you, but will likely kill me…and your niece.”

  “My niece?” Terrwyn asked perplexed. She stared at Aura.

  “Yes, like my brother Alaric, it seems I, too, have a weakness for human companionship,” Aura said as she fought back tears. She knew this was no time to give in to emotions as a human would.

  “You and Erec?” Terrwyn asked and Aura nodded in response. Terrwyn rushed to her and threw her arms around the seraph’s neck. This surprised Aura, but she hesitantly returned the embrace. Terrwyn pulled away and Aura noticed tears building in her eyes. “What is her name?” Terrwyn asked about her niece.

  “Ashleen,” Aura said and Terrwyn stole a glance at Dillan. She could tell he, too, was fighting hard to keep his emotions in check. She knew he still blamed himself for Ashleen’s death. Terrwyn, however, made no attempt to repress her emotions.

  “What a perfect name,” she said as she pulled Aura close once more as tears poured down her cheeks.

  Aura wiped her own tears from her eyes when Terrwyn pulled away.

  “Alright,” Dillan said getting back to the matter at hand. “We face an army of se’irim, shedom, and drakons and can expect no assistance from any seraph, save you and Metatron.”

  “I am not even sure where the Keeper is,” Aura said. “He came to Caerwynspire on his way to inspect the gate to Abaddock. If the gate is open, Metatron might already be dead.”

  “But maybe not,” Dillan said. “He might be safe and sound in Dracengard.”

  “Yes,” Aura agreed with a hint of hope in her voice.

  “So what is the plan, General?” Dillan asked.

  Aura thought for a mere moment. “I promised Queen Gwyndalin that I would warn Lisabeth in Ephenee and her brother Tythan in Talisaria. I must do that first.”

  “Alright, you warn Ephenee and Talisaria. I shall take Bran and warn Willem and then fly to Dracengard and see if Metatron is there.”

  “We must all stand together,” Aura said. “Avonvale is the most easily defensible kingdom remaining since the fall of Caerwynspire. Have the kingdoms converge their armies there.”

  “What about me?” Terrwyn asked.

  Dillan turned to her. “You will take our family south to your brother. Starron will take you on the Vagabond. Watch after our babies and let Erec know that the others are on their way. Help him prepare for the defense.” Terrwyn nodded. Dillan turned to Avon. “Avon, please…” he began, but the dracen cut him off.

  “Do not fear, Dillan,” he said. “I shall guard your family until my final breath.”

  “Thank you my friend,” Dillan smiled. He turned to Sir Calor. “Assemble the army and all of the people in Riversmeet that you can. March south to Avonvale.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the knight replied with a bow.

  Dillan rushed to Terrwyn and threw his arms around her. He kissed her deeply on the lips. “I shall see you soon,” he said. “Take care of my babies.”

  “Do not worry about them,” Terrwyn said. “You take care of yourself.”

  “I will,” he promised and then turned to Aura. “I shall see you in Avonvale, General.”

  Aura nodded. She spread her wings and with a single flap of them streaked off into the night sky.

  Dillan rushed to Bran and climbed atop the dracen’s back. “I love you,” he said to Terrwyn.

  “I love you, too,” she replied.

  “Let us fly, Bran,” Dillan said and the dracen began flapping his mighty wings lifting off the ground and flying away into the night.

  Chapter 14

  Anne stood atop the balcony of the White Fortress’ tallest spire, listening to the shrieks from the people below as the se’irim had their way with them. Anne smiled wickedly. Se’irim made drakmere look like sweet, little pets. The red-skinned demons were terrifyingly brutal, relishing the infliction of torment upon others. Yet they were much more loyal and obedient than draks. With drakmere, one had to worry if they would obey one’s commands. Se’irim generally obeyed without question. Fear of the shedom, and especially of Shebath, was too much to over come.

  Anne stared out over the Middle Realm. From her vantage point, she had an excellent view. Her drakon, Morgan, was beside her and she stroked his snout as she used to stroke her horse, Isabella. “Soon the entire realm will be ours,” she told the dark beast. “Soon they shall all worship me.”

  “Or die from the drakons’ fire,” she heard Asmodeus’ familiar voice behind her and turned to see him approach. Even though no longer a shade, the shedom warrior still slipped about the darkness as if he were one.

  “Greetings, General,” she said giving the shedom his proper title.

  Asmodeus bowed at the waist to her. “Greetings, Your Majesty,” he replied.

  “I am eager to move onward, General,” Anne said.

  “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty. However, we must allow the se’irim to replenish.”

  “When?” Anne asked, clearly impatient.

  “Allow them to rest during the day and we may begin marching tomorrow evening.”

  “Very well,” Anne relented. She hated to wait, but Orrick had instructed her to listen to Asmodeus. The shedom certainly knew the limits of the se’irim better than she.

  “And what shall be Your Majesty’s strategy?” Asmodeus asked. “Shall we conquer Talisaria? Libetha?”

  “Neither,” Anne exclaimed. “We shall head directly south to Avonvale. I shall have my kingdom and from there rule the whole of the realm.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” Asmodeus replied.

  “And I shall have my revenge on Terrwyn and Sephene. They shall die in the most horrific way imaginable, begging for their lives and the lives of their families.”

  Anne smiled to herself as she continued to stare out over the Middle Realm. She would allow the se’irim to torment Terrwyn and Sephene while she watched, basking in their cries of agony as they begged for her mercy.

  Anne’s thoughts were interrupted when she noticed something in the distant sky. Something appeared to be flying toward them. A bird perhaps. She paid it little mind at first, but as time passed she realized that it was much further away than she had originally believed. That meant it was too large to be a bird. Much too large.

  “Asmodeus,” she said.

  “Yes, Your Majesty?” the shedom replied.

  “What is that in the distance?” she asked as she pointed to sky.

  Asmodeus stared for a moment. Then she heard him gasp. “A dracen!” he exclaimed.

  “A dracen?” Anne cried.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the shedom replied.

  “Then I shall kill it!” she spat and climbed atop Morgan’s back.

  “Your Majesty, you must not go alone. Wait a moment and we shall attack as a force. It is much too large for you and Morgan alone.”

  “Do you think the dracen is too large, Morgan?” Anne asked her drakon.

&
nbsp; “No,” the drakon said. “I shall slay it!”

  “Then let us kill the beast!” With that, Morgan leapt from the balcony and flapped its mighty wings.

  “No!” Asmodeus shouted as he began to panic. If Anne were killed by this dracen, Shebath would surely torture him to death. The Dark Lord would make it last weeks. He had to help her before her stubborn arrogance got them both killed.

  ***

  Chaundra flapped her mighty wings as she soared toward the White Fortress. She had flown north in search of Metatron, worried that something had happened. She had felt a flash of pain, but could not feel his presence anymore. That concerned her most of all for Chaundra feared it meant Metatron was dead. When she noticed the enormous black cloud above Caerwynspire, she knew he was. Chaundra also knew that Aura was hiding in Caerwynspire and assumed she would be aiding the humans in defeating the forces of Abaddock. Chaundra, too, would assist in the battle.

  As the dracen queen flew nearer and nearer the White Fortress, she realized someone was flying out to meet her. Was that one of the nephilim on their dracen? No! Suddenly she realized it was a drakon. She released a deafening roar as she flew forward to attack.

  As the drakon flew nearer, Chaundra noticed it begin to slow. It was going to run. Chaundra released a burst of flame which the drakon dove beneath, but she was able to hit the rider. She heard a shriek of pain from what appeared to be a human on the drakon’s back.

  The drakon turned away and flew as fast as it could back toward Caerwynspire. Chaundra gave chase. She was at least three times as large as the drakon and would have little trouble tearing it to shreds in her giant teeth. Being significantly faster as well, Chaundra closed in on the drakon flying nearer and nearer her prey. As she closed in on it, she opened her mouth to release a burst of flame to finish off both the drakon and its rider.

  Suddenly, Chaundra heard a roar in front of her and her eyes leapt upward to see a score or more of drakons flying toward her. Though she were larger and stronger than any of them, their superior numbers would spell her doom. She gave up on the chase of the lone drakon and turned to head back south.

  As she turned, a drakon reached her and clamped its jaws down upon her large leathery wings. She swatted it away, but another did likewise on the other side. Then she felt a drakon land upon her back and sink its teeth into her neck. Chaundra rolled tossing the drakon while fighting with two others. She swatted the shedom from the back of one drakon before chomping down into its neck, biting its head from its body. A burst of fire from her mouth incinerated another.

  Chaundra felt the dark blade of a shedom pierce her side and she turned and clawed at the drakon carrying the demon. She fought hard, but more and more drakons joined the battle. She was being quickly overpowered. Chaundra turned her snout up and flapped her mighty wings, propelling herself further skyward. She flew harder and harder and soon escaped the clutches of the drakons attacking her. She flew into the black cloud which covered the land and burst out above it on the other side.

  She was clear of the drakon and turned south beating her wings and flying as fast as she could back to Dracengard. She had to warn the Clerics of Avalon that the demons of Abaddock were invading the Middle Realm.

  ***

  Asmodeus silently cursed Anne’s brash overconfidence as he pulled her body from the back of the drakon. She winced in pain as he moved her. She was badly burnt, primarily on her hands and arms which she had held up to protect her face. Her hair and head had been mostly protected by her helmet, except for the portion of the braid that fell down her back. She had only been hit with the edge of the blast of fire as her drakon dove under it, otherwise she would have been burnt to a crisp, armor or no.

  Asmodeus rushed her through the castle until he found a bedroom. Kicking down the door, he laid her upon the bed and turned to another shedom. “Fetch me a wet cloth!” he hissed and the shedom obeyed.

  “It hurts!” Anne cried out.

  “You are lucky to be alive,” Asmodeus said.

  “There should be a healer’s room near the king’s,” she told him. “Find it! I shall need some herbs.” She looked down at her hands and arms, red and blistered. She would live, but she would not be conquering the Middle Realm on the morrow as she had planned. She scolded her own brashness for it would cause her a significant delay. “And find some girls to tend to me. Keep them from the se’irim’s bellies.”

  Asmodeus bowed as he left the room obediently.

  Chapter 15

  Lisabeth and Eamon strolled hand in hand up the green grass hill to the henge that set atop it. The ancient stone circle had existed for centuries and was sacred ground to the Epheneen people. Eamon had spent most of his time on Ephenee not only introducing his bride-to-be to the people of his kingdom, but also familiarizing her with their customs. Being an island kingdom, Ephenee had a much more distinct culture than the other kingdoms of the Middle Realm. They also had more distinct religious beliefs.

  The Epheneen people believed the Three Realms, the seraph, humans, and even shedom, were the work of a great Creator. Legends claimed the Epheneen people had learned the stories of creation from the wee folk, whom they believed to be the Creator’s assistants.

  “I used to come up here a lot as a boy,” Eamon said, referencing a time just a couple of years ago. “I would spend hours searching the hills for the wee folk,” he smiled.

  “Wee folk?” Lisabeth smiled. “Like gnomes and things?”

  “Yes,” Eamon said. “And pixies and sprites,” he smiled

  “Do you believe in the wee folk?” she asked him as she tilted her head to the side and bit her lip in an attempt not to chuckle.

  “Why not?” he replied. “Both my father and grandfather saw them. You’ll find most on Ephenee do believe in the wee folk.”

  “And the seraph?” she asked. “Do most Epheneen people believe in the seraph? I mean did they before the war?”

  “I think so,” he said. “Of course, I am half Caerwyn, just like you, so Grandmother made sure I believed in the seraph and shedom.” Eamon smiled remembering how Sibilus would tell him stories of the Realm Wars when he was a young lad, and scare him with tales of shades and shedom snatching bad little boys.

  “Tell me,” Lisabeth said.

  “What?” asked Eamon.

  “Tell me about the pixies and sprites.”

  Eamon nodded, took her hand, and led her to the center of the henge. There, he sat down cross-legged upon the soft green grass and motioned for her to do the same. Lisabeth nodded as she lowered herself down sitting directly across from him, staring into his eyes.

  “In the beginning, there was nothing except the Infinite Ocean. The Creator was born there from the life giving waters. While most believe the Creator to be neither male nor female, we often refer to the Creator as ‘she.’ I believe this is due to the fact that for humans it is the mother that gives us life so it feels natural for the giver of all life to be the mother to us all.”

  Lisabeth smiled. “Well, if that is true—why is it that the sovereign is the eldest male heir? Why is this not a matriarchal society?”

  Eamon chuckled. “I couldn’t really say, but I must assume it is because the House of Sommerarcher, just like the House of Caerwyn, is descended from seraph.”

  Lisabeth nodded.

  “The Creator first created the light and the darkness.”

  Lisabeth smiled. “Hae’lel and Shebath,” she giggled. She was enjoying this story.

  “Yes,” Eamon replied. “They needed a place to play together, so she created the Middle Realm. She would sit on her throne in this very spot and watch them play,” Eamon smiled as he pointed to the ground.

  “Really?” Lisabeth asked in awe as she glanced around the henge.

  “Well, I doubt it really happened, it is only legend,” he said amused.

  “So The Father and Shebath were…” she paused. “Brothers?”

  “I guess you could call them twin brothers, actually,” Eamon
replied.

  “So what happened?” Lisabeth asked very interested.

  “Well, as they grew older they played together less and less. Then one day they asked for their own separate kingdoms.”

  Lisabeth threw her head back and laughed. “Like when Ashleen and I asked our parents for separate rooms.”

  Eamon laughed as well. “Yes, exactly,” he said. “So, the Creator gave Hae’lel the Kingdom of Auraehalis and gave Shebath the Kingdom of Abaddock. Seraph kept stepping from the light and shedom kept stepping from the darkness and soon, Hae’lel and Shebath stopped visiting the Middle Realm to play together or visit the Creator as they each had a host of subjects.”

  “Aw, that’s sad,” Lisabeth said.

  “Yes, well, the Creator got lonely, as one might imagine, and filled the Middle Realm with animals. Finally, she created humanity to keep her company. She made humans lords of the Middle Realm and she created the numina to assist them.”

  “Numina? You mean like Melech, the fire demon?” Lisabeth asked.

  “Yes,” Eamon said. “Melech was the numen of fire.”

  Lisabeth shivered. “They say that if you sacrifice a baby to Melech by burning it alive, he will grant you control of his fire demons. Is that true?”

  Eamon titled his head as he stared at her. “How would I know?” he asked as he threw his hands in the air. “It is quite likely that none of this is true.”

  She frowned at him. “So, why are you even telling me?” she asked.

  Eamon took her hands in his. “Because if you are to marry me and become Queen of Ephenee, you must know the religion and culture of the people. You must become Epheneen.”