by Mark Tyson
Gondrial made every effort to stay in close proximity to the cloaked man without getting too close. He would duck in alleyways and use people in front of him as shields to hide behind. When the man entered a side alley, Gondrial followed to discover the man had disappeared. He searched for a pathway the man could have taken but came up empty. Gondrial stood there in the alleyway for a moment, feeling rather silly. A passing resemblance to a man he knew could not leave Signal Hill was probably not a good reason to chase someone down in the streets.
He turned around to the leave the alley and came face-to-face with the man he was following.
Removing his hood as he spoke, the man inquired, “Are you following me, sir?”
Gondrial, for once, could not find his voice. Esperdahl and the man before him could have been brothers, but it was obvious now that this man was not Esperdahl.
“I thought you were someone else. I apologize.”
“Oh?” The man smiled. “I do seem to have one of those faces.”
“I’m sorry to have concerned you,” Gondrial stated, bowing slightly. “I‘ll let you be on your way.”
“No trouble at all. You just startled me. I used to be mistaken for my brother all the time. I have a twin you see, and he and I used to look very much alike.”
“I’m sure you did,” Gondrial said, clearly trying to get away from the chatty fellow now that he no longer had any interest in him.
“Wait, friend,” the man pleaded. Gondrial stopped trying to escape for a moment. “Tell me, sir, who did you mistake me for?”
“That is an odd question,” Gondrial responded.
“Is it? I apologize for my curiosity.” The man lurched forward and plunged a lengthy dagger into Gondrial’s gut. “I’ll take this,” he said, cutting Gondrial’s purse loose.
Gondrial considered he had defeated all those Dramyds and worse just to be gutted by a common thief. “No, I don’t think you will.” He let the essence enter him. Sharp pains immediately pervaded his wounded, weakened body, and his head rushed, making him dizzy. The man bolted, letting Gondrial fall to the ground. A reckless bolt of lightning crackled through the air, catching the fleeing man in the seat of his breeches. The thief dropped the purse to clutch his burning behind as he fell to the ground.
“Hmm, right on the mark!” Gondrial said before pulling himself up against the alley wall. “I couldn’t have aimed it that way.”
The thief pulled himself from the ground and picked up the purse. Gondrial could tell by the expression on his face that he knew that would be the only spell Gondrial could muster. The thief stood before him and bent down to his face. “Is that all you have?” He drew the dagger again, intending to finish him.
Gondrial now had his hand on his own dagger. “No, I have more,” he said, plunging his dagger into the man’s eye. The thief collapsed on top of Gondrial in a heap. “Maybe that wasn’t as good of an idea as I thought,” he said aloud. Unable to push the man off him, he sat obscured by a corpse in the alley, slowly bleeding to death.
Chapter 8: Draegodor
As the ground disappeared below, Dorenn realized it would be useless to try to free himself of Melias. Fear gripped him in a silent panic as thoughts of the Drasmyd Duil attack in Brookhaven flooded back into his mind. Melias sat them on the ground near a stone structure with a broken statue of a dragon crumbling off the roof.
“Wait here,” Melias said, his voice more raspy than usual. “And stay hidden, if you can.”
Dorenn nodded, relieved when Melias pushed off into the air away from him. Dorenn made his way to the stone structure and stepped inside it, more worried of what was outside rather than what might be lurking in the darkness inside. A few moments later, Melias returned with a visibly shaken Vesperin.
“Over here, Vesperin.”
“Dorenn, thank Loracia.” He ran to his hidden friend and stepped inside the structure. “What the—”
“I know.”
“Is he a . . . what is he?”
Dorenn thought about how to answer but came up empty. “I don’t know. He looks a lot like a Drasmyd Duil.”
Tatrice and Bren topped the rise and headed straight for them. Tatrice let out a short, startled gasp when she unexpectedly came face-to-face with Dorenn, and then she hugged him in excitement. Bren handed Dorenn his pack with Dranmalin that he had lost on the incline.
“Here, you might need this. I saw the abominations overtake Morgoran. Hundreds of them are coming up the side of the mountain.”
Dorenn took Dranmalin and unsheathed it. “What of Morgoran?”
The air sizzled and crackled at the entrance, and in a flash of light, Morgoran appeared directly ahead of them. In the moonlight, Dorenn heard him laughing. Melias landed to his left and folded his wings in behind him.
Morgoran turned to where Dorenn and the others hid in the darkness. “Come out of there; you will want to see this.” Dorenn hesitated. “Come on out,” Morgoran repeated.
Bren put his hand on Dorenn’s back and gently pushed him forward. “It’s okay, lad. This is the haven of the sentinels. We are all safe now.”
Dorenn cautiously stepped out and took a spot next to Morgoran. Down below, a black hoard moved up the mountain, and the air above filled with the sound of beating wings and otherworldly screeching. Morgoran put his hand on Dorenn’s shoulder.
Dorenn shook with dread. The mountain around him began to move, and the boulders at either end of the stone structure shook and broke away. Dorenn recoiled under Morgoran’s clutch.
“There, do you see them?” Morgoran pointed at the moving stone.
Dorenn watched as the boulders at either side of them morphed into monstrous figures rising out of the earth and rock of the mountain. A huge maw opened and ejected fire crackling into the air, as its body became clearer. Two stone dragons emerged four times the size of the three dragons Dorenn had seen at Calanbrough and Brightonhold. Their dull stone scales became green as they moved with surprising speed.
“Behold, the earth dragon sentinels of Mount Urieus,” Bren said proudly.
The first unfortunate Dramyds to encounter the sentinels did not last long.
The dragons dispatched them with brutal force. The rest turned tail and fled under the sentinels’ ruthless pursuit. Two more dragon sentinels rose out of the side of the mountain as the first sentinels pursued the enemies.
“Come now,” Bren said. “The sentinels will take care of the rest. It’s time to enter Draegodor.”
They entered the darkness of the stone structure. As soon as Bren crossed the threshold, the inside lit up in a luminous blue. The light came from all directions and did not have a single source that Dorenn could identify. At the center of the room, a red crystal began to pulse and become brighter and brighter as Bren approached it. Around the crystal, the floor was arranged in a raised circle with intricate runes.
“Stand in the circle. If the dragons welcome us, we will be taken to Draegodor.”
“What do we do now?” Dorenn asked. “Just stand in a circle of runes?”
The Amalease stone began to glow, faint and slow at first, but as the seconds ticked away, it pulsed brighter and brighter. Dorenn was fixated on the stone at first, but once he peered up, he noticed the room had changed. The walls dissolved, and Dorenn got the impression they were floating on a cloud.
“Do not step out of the circle,” Bren instructed.
“Why? What would happen?” Vesperin asked.
“I am not sure, but I would not want to find out either. No one knows if this is an illusion made by the Amalease stone or a reality,” Bren answered.
“Stop asking fool questions and just do as you are told,” Morgoran chided. “In fact, all of you hold your tongues and let me do all the talking.”
In the distance, several blue and red dragons appeared, encircling the platform. They all flew in and perched on the cloud surface just outside of the circle of runes, and loomed. Directly in front of the Amalease stone, a golden platform rose
out of the cloud. A few moments later, a golden dragon appeared on the platform. It didn’t fly in like the others. It simply appeared.
In a booming voice, the golden dragon spoke. “You wish to enter the red city of Draegodor?”
“Aye, we do,” Morgoran answered.
“Silence, Wielder, I am addressing the dragon knight in your party.”
“We do, Lord Dragon. This is Morgoran of the Vale and his party.”
“I recognize Morgoran of the Vale, Knight of Amadalea.” The golden dragon fixed his gaze upon Morgoran. “I see our sister, the Silver Drake, has released you from your curse. Your eyes are clear no longer.” Morgoran nodded. “I assume she has her reasons for your release, so I will not question her. I am inclined to deny your entry into my city, Wielder. Your transgressions on dragonkind are well known to us. You failed to stop the theft of clutches of dragon eggs by your brother, Toborne, as well as his theft of offspring of the live birth broods. You are held partially responsible, by the dragons of this city, for the abominations created from them. You even bring one now to this city.” The blue and red dragons growled and moved back and forth restlessly.
“I’m not going to try to convince you that I tried with all my being to stop Toborne, but I did. I’m not going to defend his actions. The Silver Drake cursed me because I got in her way. Aye, I stopped her from killing Toborne outright, it’s true. And, because he lived, if you call the way he was left alive living, he went on to create abominations in this world afterward. All these accusations are true. However, I am now back. I am livid about what has been done to your kind, and with whatever breath I have left, I pledge to you that I will stop him.”
“Even if you must kill him this time?”
“Even if I have to kill him, aye.”
“I will hold you to your word, Wielder. You must do whatever is necessary to stop him.”
“Aye, I just said as much,” Morgoran spouted.
The dragon roared, and Dorenn was sure it was going to eat Morgoran for that last bit of sarcasm, but it didn’t. It faded away, and the other dragons flew back the way they came. The Amalease stone began to pulsate again and change color from blue to green. The walls returned, and the stone went dark.
“We are back where we started,” Vesperin stated. “We were denied entrance.”
“I don’t think so. Look.” Tatrice pointed to the doorway—a distinct red hue filtered through it. Dorenn and Vesperin raced to the doorway and peered out into a great hall. The walls seemed impossibly high. A warm light glowed against the red stone of the hall, and at once, Dorenn understood why it was called the red city. Dragon knights milled around what Dorenn supposed was some kind of marketplace. Two large red dragons sat like relaxing house cats, watching the activity. The walls of the great hall were carved smooth with what Dorenn supposed to be dragonian runes and picturesque friezes chiseled into them. Massive columns held up the ceiling in intervals. They were also adorned with runes, with dragon knights and dragon statues carved in friezes.
“It’s beautiful!” Tatrice said as she exited the Amalease stone chamber. “I never imagined it this way.”
Bren took a deep, appreciative breath. “It is breathtaking. I feel that way every time I come here. You never quite get used to the beauty and majesty of the red city, and this is just the main hall.”
“Yes, yes, the dwarves and dragons carved some pretty stone. Don’t forget why we are here. This isn’t a sightseeing trip,” Morgoran said.
Dorenn was not sure why the anger welled up inside of him, filling him up like water in a vessel, but he did little to suppress it. Morgoran’s words set something off in him. “Enough, Morgoran. You may have traveled the world and seen it all, but you need to stop and realize not everyone has had that privilege.” As he said the words, Dorenn could feel his temper getting stronger, and he started to draw in essence. He suddenly felt out of control, like falling from a cliff with nothing to grab ahold of as he descended. He couldn’t catch his breath.
“Not here, my lord,” Melias said as he reached for Dorenn. “Vesperin, I need your help.”
“Aye, what do you need me to do?” Vesperin obliged.
“Hold on,” Melias said. He put his hands over Dorenn’s head and whispered a few words. Dorenn convulsed, and Melias took the brunt of the essence in the form of a severe lightning shock. He fell to the ground. Vesperin understood what he needed to do. He used his abilities to heal the injured Melias.
“We need to get him to the dragon priests of Fawlsbane Vex. His essence sickness is getting worse. Soon he will accidently kill someone or hurt himself.” The tone in Morgoran’s voice was even and emotionless, almost cold.
Tatrice tried to go to Dorenn, but Melias stood and blocked her. “Give him a moment, mistress. Don’t get too close.”
Dorenn felt ashamed, and he was glad Melias kept Tatrice away.
A few moments passed while the party waited for Dorenn and Melias to recover. A dragon knight dressed in silver-scaled armor approached, flanked by two more knights, one dressed in black-scaled armor and the other in green-scaled armor.
“Welcome to Draegodor,” the knight in silver began. “I am Steban, First Knight of Charna. I have been instructed to meet and escort you to the royal chambers.”
Morgoran bowed. “We would be honored.” He looked to Bren, who nodded back to him. “If it pleases you, my companions here have other duties.” He gestured at Bren and Tatrice.
“Of course. Welcome home, Bren, First of Amadalea. You may move around Draegodor freely, as usual.”
Bren bowed slightly to Steban before he and Tatrice walked away from the group.
“This way,” Steban motioned as he began walking, the two dragon knights at his side.
Morgoran stepped in line behind Steban and waved for the others to follow with a quick jerk of his hand with his wrist at about waist high.
Steban lead the party to a large opening at the east end of the main hall. At first, it appeared to Dorenn that they were heading directly for a solid wall, but as they moved closer, an opening appeared out of the red granite and marble. It was carved to give the illusion of being a solid wall until one was right upon it. Dorenn found the illusion to be almost magical, and he nudged Vesperin, who nodded his approval.
The next chamber was darkened in both light and hue. The walls went from a bright crimson with marbled white to a solid dark, blood red. Steban seemed to pick up the pace through this chamber for some reason. The dark red chamber connected to a network of large hallways with mosaics and tapestries covering the walls. Dorenn expected to see dragons depicted but was surprised to see everything from fair maidens to battle scenes illustrated with no dragons at all.
Finally they reached a set of double doors made out of white marble with two dragons entwined on both doors, their tails making up the middle seam. Dorenn wondered how much the doors weighed—they had to be the length of thirty or more full grown men, head to feet. Steban pushed open the doors effortlessly. They made absolutely no sound; they swiveled open as if they were cushioned on air.
The throne room was just as large as the main hall. At one end of the chamber, the actual thrones glistened in light coming from somewhere up above, outlining only the king and queen’s thrones. They were much smaller than Dorenn would have thought. In fact, as they approached, Dorenn realized they were human-sized and not dragon-sized. The thrones were puzzling enough, but as they walked into the middle of the chamber, Dorenn saw rows of bench seats lining each side of the chamber with each one elevated behind and slightly above the next. They were not the bench seats of dragonkind. They gave the impression they were not much bigger than human-sized.
Steban led them to a giant mosaic on the floor immediately in front of the throne. “Wait here and I will see if the king is ready to receive you.” He exited through a side entrance and disappeared as if he walked through a wall. A few moments later, he returned. “The king is on his way. Feel free to have a seat in the council enclave if y
ou are wary.” He motioned to the bench seats. Dorenn and Vesperin decided to sit down and began moving for the seats when Dorenn noticed Morgoran giving them both a stern stare and slightly shaking his head. Dorenn grabbed Vesperin by the back of his robe and yanked him back.
“What?” Vesperin asked, clearly irritated. Dorenn pointed to Morgoran, who shook his head at Vesperin also. “Oh,” he said.
They rejoined Morgoran and Melias on the mosaic. Dorenn looked down at the mosaic, trying to figure out what it was. After a time, he realized it was a white dragon with its back turned, climbing up a mountain. Perhaps it was depicting the discovery of Draegodor, he postulated.
“His Excellency, the protector of Draegodor, King Amarantus the Gold,” Steban called out from beside them. A tall man in golden robes and a long, flowing white cape glided into the royal chambers. Dorenn and Vesperin took a knee, following the lead of Morgoran and Melias. Dorenn was confused. This was a man, not a dragon.
The king was about to sit in his throne when he spotted Morgoran. He looked confused for a moment, as if he was trying to make sure that he was actually seeing whom he thought he was seeing. “Morgoran? Morgoran, is that you, my old friend?” He moved with alarming speed to embrace Morgoran, who stood upright, by the shoulders. “It is you. De Silva-Lora has released your curse?”
“Aye, Your Grace, the Silver Drake has released me.” Morgoran knew the king referred to him as a friend out of politeness, and that he was over-acting the part. As a matter of fact, the king would probably not have hesitated to burn Morgoran to a crisp if he appeared before him alone.
Dorenn had seen Sylvalora transform into the Silver Drake, but until he heard the king say silver drake in his native tongue, he never put it all together. Sylvalora simply meant silver drake in dragon speech!
“It is good to see you, old friend.” The king embraced Morgoran again. He glimpsed Dorenn and the others. “You have brought friends.”
“Aye, Your Grace, this is Vesperin, Cleric of Loracia.”
“Your Grace.” Vesperin bowed.