Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Lisabeth nodded. “I understand, but I am also Queen of Caerwynspire. What will that mean to the people?”

  Eamon smiled. “It will mean that our children shall inherit the most powerful kingdom in the Middle Realm.”

  Lisabeth turned from him to gaze out over the ocean after she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She turned back to Eamon “Is that a seraph?” she asked as she pointed out over the ocean where a small ball of light was moving towards them at incredible speed.

  Eamon pushed himself to his feet. “It certainly appears to be,” he said and then reached down and pulled Lisabeth up. “Come on. Let’s hurry back to the castle!”

  The two ran back down the hill toward the city. When they finally arrived, they discovered Karissa, Sibilus, and Lord Tibor standing in the courtyard. In front of them was Aura, gently stroking Jade’s snout. Sibilus and Karissa were holding each other and crying.

  “Mother, what is the matter?” Eamon asked.

  Karissa glanced up and her eyes met Lisabeth’s. She pulled away from Sibilus and ran to her young cousin, wrapping her arms around her.

  “What is going on?” Lisabeth asked.

  Aura stepped forward. “I am afraid I have some bad news, Lisabeth. Caerwynspire has fallen to armies of Abaddock.”

  “What?” Lisabeth asked, shock clear in her voice as she pushed past Karissa to stand face to face with Aura. “What do you mean? How could…?” She stopped as it began to sink in. “My mother? My sisters? Are they alright?”

  Aura shook her head. “I do not know for sure, but it is doubtful anyone survived.”

  Lisabeth felt a mixture of pain and anger surge through her. She turned to Aura her eyes wet with tears and red with rage. “You saw Caerwynspire fall?” she asked.

  Aura shook her head. “No.”

  Lisabeth immediately felt relief. If Aura did not see it happen then perhaps it did not. “Then how can you be sure?” she blurted out, anxious to prove the seraph incorrect.

  “Because what was coming to kill them could not be stopped by men with bows and swords of steel.”

  Lisabeth let that sink in for a moment. Then her rage started to turn to Aura. “And you left them?” Lisabeth demanded. “After my mother took you in, you abandoned her?”

  Aura shook her head. “No, Lisabeth,” she said as tears built up in her own eyes. “Your mother told me to leave. To warn you. To warn the entire realm. To convince you all to join together to fight the darkness that is coming. That is the only way the Middle Realm has any hope of winning. Together.”

  Lisabeth began to weep and Eamon rushed to her and throwing his arms around her.

  “I am sorry, child,” Aura said as she regained her composure. “I have spoken to King Erec and King Dillan. We shall stand and fight the dark army at Avonvale. The united armies of the Middle Realm. I hope Ephenee shall join us.” She glanced around at the others. “Now I must go. I have others to warn.” With that, Aura flapped her giant wings and bolted into the sky.

  Lisabeth jerked away from Eamon, rushed to his dracen and began climbing into the saddle. “Jade, take me to Caerwynspire,” she commanded.

  “No!” everyone else shouted in unison.

  “I have to see if Aura was correct,” Lisabeth replied.

  “My darling, if the General was incorrect then we shall receive word from your mother in due time,” Karissa said, her eyes pleading for Lisabeth to stay. “But if she is correct…if Caerwynspire has truly fallen to Shebath, then you and Jade will fly straight to your deaths.”

  Lisabeth knew that Karissa was right. She laid her head against the dracen’s green neck and wept.

  ***

  Tythan sat in his Father’s room. The old King lay in bed. Baltus had not spoken in days. He simply stared at the ceiling. Suddenly he gasped in horror, his eyes opening wide as he stared into nothing. “Oh no!” he shouted. “Gwyn is dead. My sweet girl is dead.”

  “No Father, Gwyndalin is alive,” Tythan reassured him in a calming voice. “Her daughter Ashleen died, remember?”

  Baltus turned to stare at Tythan. “Gwyn is dead, boy!” he shouted. “I suppose shedom are real after all.” With that, Baltus stopped breathing and just stared blankly at Tythan.

  “Father?” Tythan asked. “Father!” he said. “Father, wake up!” He turned to the door. “Help me!” The door burst open and the doctor entered, rushing quickly to the bedside as Tythan hurried out of his way.

  The doctor leaned over Baltus, placing an ear at the old King’s lips, listening for his breath. Hearing none, the doctor placed his ear against Baltus’ chest and listened for a heartbeat. After a moment the physician straightened and turned toward Tythan.

  “I am sorry, Your Majesty,” the physician said. “I shall give you a moment.” With that he patted Tythan on the shoulder and made his way from the room.

  Tythan stood over his father’s body and took the old man’s hand in his. He stood staring down at his father’s body for a long time in silence. “Rest now, Father,” he eventually said. “Rest at last.”

  As Tythan laid Baltus’ hand back onto the bed, the door swung open and Becca entered, having received word from the physician. “Oh, Ty, I am sorry,” she said when she saw Baltus dead on the bed.

  Tythan nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt, but someone is here…” she trailed off. Tythan turned to her and her eyes were wide. “I think it’s a seraph.”

  Tythan’s eyes narrowed. If a seraph had come to Talisaria, it could not be good news. “Take me,” he said and Becca nodded. She guided Tythan down the corridors to the royal gardens.

  Tythan smiled when he saw Aura kneeling beside a white bloom staring at the flower as a child might. “General Aura,” he said causing the seraph to stand. “It has been too long. I hope all is well?”

  “Unfortunately it is not, Your Majesty,” she said as she stepped toward him. “I am afraid you must evacuate your city and move south to Avonvale.”

  “What?” Tythan asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “The forces of Abaddock have invaded the Middle Realm,” she said matter-of-factly. “Caerwynspire has already fallen.”

  Tythan drew in a breath. “Gwyndalin…” he said but let it trail off.

  “I am sorry, Tythan,” Aura said. “Your sister refused to leave. I fear she is dead.”

  Tythan had tears in his eyes. He collapsed, sitting on the steps to the garden. “I know that she is,” he said as he remembered his father’s words.

  Aura walked over to him and knelt beside him. “You are King of Talisaria, Tythan,” she said softly. “There will be time for tears later, but now you must lead your people to safety.” Tythan nodded his head.

  Aura stood and offered her hand, which Tythan accepted and she pulled him to his feet. “I do not know how long you have, but gather your people and your army and flee to Avonvale as quickly as you can.”

  Tythan nodded. “Thank you, Aura,” he said. “I shall begin assembling my people immediately.”

  Chapter 16

  Dillan rushed down the palace steps at Elwood two at a time. The last time he had been in Elwood he was fleeing for his life from hungry drakmere. He much preferred the warm welcome he had received this visit, despite the grim news he brought to King Willem. Willem followed Dillan out of the castle to find Bran and Shimmer with their heads together “talking.”

  “We will move north shortly,” Willem said, agreeing completely with the decision to make a united stand at Avonvale.

  “Good,” Dillan said. “I look forward to seeing you in Avonvale then, but now I must hurry to Dracengard to warn Metatron and Chaundra.” As Dillan spoke the words, he climbed into Bran’s saddle.

  Willem opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself with a chuckle.

  Dillan smiled. “What?” he asked.

  “I was about to wish you dracen’s speed, but you already have that, don’t you?” Willem replied.

&
nbsp; Dillan smiled and patted Bran on the neck. “Yes.”

  “Shimmer and I shall see you soon, Bran,” Willem said to the dracen. “Take care of the old man,” he laughed referring to Dillan.

  “Don’t worry, I will,” Bran said and then flapped his wings, lifting off the ground and flying away.

  Bran and Dillan soared south, following the river until it emptied into the Glass Sea. Then they continued on to Dracengard. Soon, Dillan saw the large tower of the Keep standing tall in the distance. They approached it with Bran slowing himself and landing gently upon the roof. “It’s good to be home,” he said to Dillan.

  “Well, don’t get too comfortable. We won’t be here long,” Dillan reminded him as he swung down from the dracen’s back. He and Bran descended the large ramp that led from the roof down into the Keep. Once down a level they saw a tall seraph his back to them, his white wings tucked close.

  “Metatron,” Dillan said. The seraph turned to face them and Dillan was startled when he realized that it was not Metatron after all. Dillan halted abruptly at the bottom of the ramp. “Who are you?” he asked the seraph.

  The seraph stared at him for a long moment. “As this is a seraph fortress, I should be asking you that question, nephilim,” the seraph said firmly as his eyes narrowed upon Dillan.

  “I am King Dillan of the Stromland,” Dillan responded lifting his chin high.

  The seraph nodded. “I am called Mihang’el,” he replied. “I am a member of the Father’s Council.” Dillan assumed that last statement was meant to impress him.

  “I have come to speak to Metatron,” Dillan said. “Is he here?”

  Mihang’el shook his head. “I had hoped you would know the Keeper’s whereabouts,” the seraph answered.

  “No,” Dillan replied with a shake of his head.

  “Tell, me, King Dillan of the Stromland, are you acquainted with General Aura?”

  “I am,” Dillan answered.

  “Do you know where I might find her? I am quite eager to speak with her.”

  Dillan shook his head. “A year has passed since I last saw the General,” he lied. Something about this seraph told him not to say too much about Aura. After all, Metatron had warned him and the others that most seraph did not like nephilim very much. Mihang’el and the other seraph might not be pleased to discover that Aura had a daughter with a human.

  “If you see Metatron, will you tell him I was looking for him?” Mihang’el asked.

  Dillan nodded. “And if you see him, kindly inform the Keeper that we could use his assistance. The forces of Abaddock are invading the Middle Realm.”

  This obviously gave Mihang’el pause. “You mean drakmere?” he asked Dillan.

  Dillan shook his head. “No,” he said. “I mean shedom flying on the backs of drakons leading an army of se’irim.”

  Mihang’el was about to ask how Dillan knew this and the status of the invasion, but then something caught his eye. He saw Chaundra flying toward them in the distance.

  Dillan and Bran turned to see Chaundra as well and rushed back up the ramp to the roof with Mihang’el behind them, just as she was setting down. Chaundra looked exhausted as she collapsed on the roof. Bran noticed the blood first. “You’re wounded!” he shouted, concern clear in his voice.

  “I shall survive,” Chaundra said. “I just need to rest.” She lifted her head to look at them. Her eyes met Mihang’el’s and she pushed herself to her feet. “Greetings, Councilor,” she said.

  “Your Majesty, what has happened?” Mihang’el asked, clearly concerned.

  “I have fought with drakons,” she replied before licking her wounds. “Shebath’s army has taken the White Fortress and no doubt intends to move south. Warn the Father. Tell him we need the armies of Auraehalis.”

  Mihang’el stared at her in stunned disbelief for a long time. “Where is Metatron?” Mihang’el asked at last.

  Chaundra allowed her head to fall back to the ground. “He is dead,” she said.

  “What?” Dillan demanded.

  “I felt but a flash of pain and then could no longer feel him. I knew he had died, but I flew north to where I believed him to be hoping I was wrong. I was not. My fears were confirmed when the forces of Abaddock attacked me at Caerwynspire. They have invaded the Middle Realm.”

  “Yes, I came here to warn you and Metatron,” Dillan said

  “But how could,” the dracen queen began, but then stopped herself, realizing that only Aura could have told Dillan. That meant Aura lived. “I shall warn the clerics and recover from my wounds. We shall prepare for war.”

  “You are certain, Metatron is dead?” Mihang’el asked.

  Chaundra stared at him for a moment before speaking. “I was certain the moment I felt it happen. I held out hope, however, that I was mistaken. There can be no such hope now. You must bring help from Auraehalis.”

  Mihang’el frowned. “The Middle Realm and their nephelim kings can expect no help from Auraehalis,” he said.

  Dillan was about to say something. To curse him, but before the words could even leave his lips Mihang’el was gone, back to the Realm of Light.

  Dillan turned back to Chaundra. He could not believe Metatron was dead. He would have never thought that possible and had anyone other than Chaundra told him so he might have scoffed at the notion.

  Dillan wanted to mourn his seraph mentor, but there was no time now. Chaundra had confirmed what Aura had already told him and Terrwyn: Caerwynspire had fallen to the shedom. “We are making our stand in Avonvale,” Dillan informed her. “We would greatly appreciate it if you would fight by our side.”

  “I shall be there,” the dracen queen growled. “And I shall have my revenge.”

  ***

  Mihang’el needed to see it for himself. Were the forces of Abaddock really invading the Middle Realm? The thought was terrifying. There had not been a Realm War in over a thousand years and most seraph believed that the Great Seal would prevent the forces of darkness from ever again casting their shadow over the Middle Realm. After all, the Father himself had locked the gates with enormous bolts forged in Auraehalis, placed his greatest warrior as sentry and then sealed the entrance to the guard room with a magical seal that only the Father himself knew how to open. Once that was accomplished, a host of seraph buried the sealed gates under a mountain of rock. There was no way in or out of the room other than a small hole, too small for even a human child, to allow a beam of light into the room enough each day to sustain Uriel.

  Mihang’el had been surprised by the words of the nephilim Dillan. He could have dismissed them as the panicked ramblings of an inferior mind, but when Chaundra confirmed it there could be no mistake. Humans often saw dangers where little existed. To them every shadow was a shedom. That is why men killed each and every snake or bug they came across, never thinking that this creature could likely do a human little harm. Not the dracen queen, however.

  Mihang’el knew it was against the Father’s law to travel to the Middle Realm anywhere further than Avalon, but this would not be the first time Mihang’el had broken that rule. Mihang’el decided it would be unwise to go alone and he enlisted the assistance of the one seraph he knew he could trust to keep the goings on a secret, his brother, Gavri’el.

  The two seraph streaked northward above the Middle Realm at incredible speed. They noticed the black cloud high above the realm long before they reached Caerwynspire. Mihang’el quickly signaled Gavri’el to land and both glided to the ground at the foothills of the Scorched Mountains.

  “The black cloud of Abaddock is an ominous sign, brother,” Gavri’el said stating the obvious.

  “Yes,” Mihang’el agreed. “We should tread carefully, brother. We do not know how far south the dark army may have advanced.”

  “I agree,” Gavri’el replied. “Let us stay upon the ground. In the sky we shall certainly be spotted quickly against the blackness of the cloud.”

  “A wise suggestion, brother,” Mihang’el agreed.

&
nbsp; The two seraph set out on foot, once again traveling north to Caerwynspire. Though it was slower moving to go on foot and they were moving cautiously, the seraph still traveled at much greater speed than any creature of the Middle Realm could manage. In fact, to a human eye they would be little more than a blur of light whizzing past.

  The two seraph continued until they were perched upon the mountains near the White Fortress. Once there, they hid against the hillsides and peeked over. Their fears were confirmed. Perched upon the towers of the fortress were drakons and guarding the parapets were hundreds of se’irim. Caerwynspire had indeed fallen as Chaundra had told him. Mihang’el and Gavri’el ducked back behind the hill and out of sight.

  “The dracen queen spoke truth,” Gavri’el said.

  “Indeed,” Mihang’el replied.

  “We must warn the Father,” Gavri’el said as he took a step southward. He was suddenly halted by Mihang’el’s hand on his arm.

  “No, brother, we must not,” he said.

  “What?” asked Gavri’el, clearly confused.

  “How did the shedom break the seal, Gavri’el?” Mihang’el asked.

  “I do not know,” Gavri’el confessed.

  “Only the Father knew how to open it.” Gavri’el nodded. “You and I both know that things are not as the Father wants us to believe them to be. Let us not say anything just yet.”

  “But if we fail to warn the Father, the shedom could sweep through the Middle Realm and be at the gates of Auraehalis before we have a chance to fight.”

  “Yes, so we need to keep an eye on them,” Mihang’el said. “As long as the shedom remain in the White Fortress, Auraehalis is safe.” Gavri’el nodded. “I need you to remain here to watch them, brother. As a member of the Council I will be too easily missed, much as Aura has been. But it also affords me the opportunity to cover for your absence, if necessary.”

  Gavri’el nodded. “Very well, brother. I shall keep vigilant watch over the shedom and report to you if they move southward.”

  Mihang’el smiled. “Farewell, Gavri’el. I shall see you soon.” Without another word Mihang’el streaked away, disappearing behind the hills in the blink of an eye.