The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3)

by Salvador Mercer

  “Yes, the Arnen are always scheming against us, but that does not change things.” Amsor nodded to the scout, indicating that he was to resume his duties.

  “But, we have accomplished our objective. The murderous druid is dead.”

  Amsor looked intently at his former pupil and now subordinate. The Kesh ranks were filled with conniving, backstabbing wizards, and every wizard wanted nothing less than to ascend to the rank of mage. All mages knew this, as did all the wizards, so there was always a level of suspicion between them. Power, however, kept them in order, and their society functioned this way for better or for worse.

  “We have killed one of the Arnen, yes, so now they will come for us. I do not want to have them raising a local army of militia, or finding another realm to work with while we force the issue at Vulkor. It’s better to end this once and for all here. Then, we finish Vulcrest.”

  Keros nodded, speaking no further. He saw what happened to Kentos and knew his mage would sacrifice his wizards to keep his own power intact. He would be wary of this feud with the Arnen. They never ended well for either side.

  Amsor pulled out the intricate carving of his precious Tridra. It had two heads missing, and it would take weeks of magic-casting to repair the damage. The dedicated beast had returned to its master, having accomplished its mission, but it was wounded and its magical energy all but spent. It had one last head left, however, and Amsor thought that perhaps that would be enough.

  The pair followed their soldiers and disappeared into the forest. Several minutes later, a Ranger and a druid appeared, following them stealthily, tracking and observing, closing the ground slowly.

  Finally, a pair of dryads stepped from the trees and watched them go.

  “Time to tell Sun,” one said to the other.

  “That’s the same as telling the dragon.”

  “Yes,” the first said, touching a tree and preparing to teleport toward her sister leader. “Time for death.”

  Chapter 19

  Epic

  The day was waning when the first sound of strangers approaching reached the group. They had taken defensive positions around the clearing and had good cover and a fair range of vision on the pillars nearby.

  “Why do you call them the ‘Pillars of the Parents’?” Helvie asked Elly, and both Gloria and Diamedes listened intently for the druid to answer.

  “The master taught us that they represent the Mother and the Father, Agon and Akun.” Elly looked at the pillars with intent.

  “That makes sense,” Gloria said, looking forward. “I think I hear them too.”

  “What of that poor creature? You know, the winged horse.” Helvie turned to Wulfric.

  “I know not, though he was seriously injured by the beast,” Wulfric said, no emotion in his voice, though he gripped his sword tightly and the muscles in his arms were flexed, blood vessels clearly visible pulsating beneath his skin. He was ready for battle. He was ready justice.

  Within minutes, the Kesh and their soldiers appeared. They were down to less than three score now, but enough to outnumber the defenders by a large margin. They spread out across the narrow entrance to the grove, some within the pillars’ reach and others to either side. Truth be told, there were three gaps between the pillars, two on either side, buttressing against the mountain wall, and the one between the pillars that had an easier path into the sacred site.

  The two Kesh magic-users approached at the very center, with Amsor planting his staff into the ground, and his gemstone started to glow, illuminating the shady area. “Come out, Arnen. It’s time to face justice.”

  Greyson walked a few paces in front and planted his own staff into the ground. “For once we are in agreement. It is time to face justice.”

  Amsor snickered, looking at the defenses of the druid. The light of the staff illuminated webs of druidic magic that were above them but no longer in front of them. Addressing the old man, Amsor spoke. “Your magic is strong here, but you made a serious miscalculation.”

  “Have I?” Greyson asked. “It would seem to me that the miscalculation is on your part, and if you didn’t know, my good pupil is resting not a hundred yards behind me. It would seem your magical lapdog failed its quest.”

  “Impossible,” Keros said loudly. “He lies.”

  “She is no longer a concern to us, Arnen.” Amsor shifted his weight to his other leg, ready for combat. “You, however, have interfered and murdered Kesh soldiers in the pursuit of their duties. For this, you will pay, and the safekeeping of Vulcrest will no longer be your concern.”

  Before any response would be given, the mage sent a surge of energy that had been gathering into his staff, deep into the ground, shaking it violently. The wave was directed into the grove and did not affect his own soldiers, but the defenders were sorely pressed to maintain their balance and keep their feet.

  The other wizard started launching fireballs into the grove, hitting trees, rocks, brushes, and igniting several of them on fire. The defenders took cover, some falling to the ground and covering their heads.

  “Attack.” Amsor gave the command, and the Kesh troops ran toward the defenders and the inner circle. When they reached the pillars, they passed unharmed.

  “They can enter?” Lucina asked, confused. “What plan is this?”

  “Yes,” Greyson said calmly. “I opened the door and invited them in. Now prepare to battle.”

  The ground stopped shaking, and the wizards advanced. The first Kesh arrived and started exchanging blows with the warrior women and the Rangers. Metal clashed off of metal, and then Greyson gave a command. “Now, Elly.”

  Elister planted his staff into the ground and commanded the grass to grow. The Kesh found themselves tied down with strands of grass as it reached up to their ankles and shins, binding and slowing them down. They were no longer as mobile as they were.

  The Kesh seemed prepared this time, and several officers took small magical orbs from their pockets and smashed them by throwing them onto the ground. The flash of blue indicated that Kesh magic was present, and in a wide circle, ten yards at least, the grass withered and died. The Kesh were countering the druid’s spell.

  Several bolts found their way into the group and onto shields, though one struck Gloria in her arm, drawing blood. The next volley hit a wall of air that Greyson summoned and slowed in flight, falling at their feet. There wasn’t a third volley.

  With a war cry, Dunric slashed into the line of Kesh crossbowmen, hacking them down quickly, with nearly half a dozen falling to his sword before they could defend themselves properly. Tristan called forth the sky and clouds descended on the bowmen, obscuring them and their ability to see. Dunric disappeared within the fog, and the cries of death by the Kesh were loud and many.

  “Dunric!” Wulfric called to his leader, and the large Ranger charged into the first line of Kesh, killing two with as many strokes before three larger swordmen halted his progress, raining blows upon his shield.

  Several Kesh tried to reach Helvie and Diamedes, but Gloria and Lucina stood their ground, dropping three of them in as many minutes. The historian had only a knife, and Helvie stood to Lucina’s side with her short sword, preventing the Kesh from flanking the large, holy warrior.

  “Time for a little help,” Greyson said, uttering the ancient druidic incantation of animation. The druids did not magically animate demons or beasts. No, the trees themselves nearby started to move slowly and snatched unsuspecting Kesh soldiers by their torsos and then slammed them into the ground, stomping on them with their large, root-like feet.

  The wizard was angry, and he cast a large ball of fire right at two of the trees, even though each tree had a Kesh soldier in it. Both trees and both soldiers ignited in a fiery death, screams of pain coming from the men and an unnatural scream of suffering emanating from the very ground.

  The cries from behind brought Amsor to a halt, and he cast a powerful spell that vaporized the fog as a blue light from his staff touched it. When the fog bu
rned away, all that was left to be seen was a bloody Dunric and a dozen dead bowmen.

  “Kill the druid fool behind us,” Amsor commanded to his wizard, and Keros turned from his fire-making to launch one directly at Tristan.

  Tristan ducked and felt the searing heat of the passing ball of fire as it flew overhead. It singed his hair and robe. The next ball came right at him, and he planted his staff into the ground, bringing forth a wall of dirt that protected him. Immediately the dirt exploded, knocking him to his feet as the fireball was followed with an electrical blast that was more powerful than anything he had faced before.

  Dunric reached him, offering him a hand. “You all right, Tristan?”

  Tristan was stunned but took Dunric’s hand and got to his feet. The pair leaped behind a large block tree as it was hit by another blast, sending woodchips flying in all directions. The attack split the large block tree into two, and each half started to fall to either side, exposing the pair.

  “Run,” Dunric ordered, and the pair sought the cover of a huge red, a pair of reds in fact. The first took another blast and started to creak in protest as it began to split in two.

  Tristan turned to Dunric. “We can’t keep doing this.”

  “Then fight, Tristan. Hit him with the Mother’s power. You can do it,” Dunric said over the roar of the falling tree.

  Tristan turned, facing the wizard who was already preparing another blast from his staff, its gemstone shining brightly from the heat of its use. Without waiting, Tristan plunged his staff into the ground and summoned the only thing he could think of—an earth elemental.

  The elemental formed in front of him and was struck immediately by the wizard’s bolt of lightning. Dirt flew in all directions, but the animated ground shrugged it off and marched slowly toward the wizard.

  “Take that, Kesh,” Tristan yelled in triumph, realizing that he needed to focus on the elemental in order to direct it. For a moment, the conjuration almost fell back to the ground in a heap of soil, and then it gathered momentum as Tristan directed it toward the magic-user.

  “We have to do something,” Edric said to Greyson, yelling over the din of battle. “Tristan and Dunric have joined us.”

  “Yes, they came at the right time. Tristan is fine now. Let me handle the mage.” Greyson advanced, as did Amsor, the pair closing quickly. When they had almost reached each other, they pointed their staves at one another and sent destructive energy from them. The energy caused the area between the two to distort, and waves of incandescent light emanated from a point exactly between the pair.

  “That’s it,” Helvie said, urging the druid on, but her words of encouragement were short-lived.

  “Oh no,” Gloria said, stepping back and looking above the clearing at the approaching dragon.

  The green dragon swooped down and sent a cloud of noxious green gas at the far side of the grove, enveloping both Kesh, trees, and Rangers. Edric and Wulfric started to cough and fell back from the dragon’s attack.

  Dunric screamed at seeing his fellow companions in mortal danger, and he ran toward the skirmish line at full speed, slashing down two Kesh mercenaries as he went.

  “Master Greyson, help your Zashitors.” Diamedes yelled a warning at the old druid.

  Elly ran to the Rangers, who had collapsed, spewing blood and breathing their last. With a great effort, Elister pulled the vials of water that the Rangers had carried and administered it to them. It would not give them life, but it could stave off death, if but for a time, long enough for Master Greyson to administer to them, but fate decreed that Master Greyson’s time on Agon had ended. There would be no healing from the master this day.

  The dragon landed in the center of the group very close to the druid and mage, grabbing Lucina with one claw and pinning Helvie with the other. Lucina’s sword pierced the dragon’s foot and the creature roared in pain.

  It struck out at Gloria with its massive tail and sent the warrior woman flying across the clearing, breaking bones in the process. Its wide mouth gaped and it prepared to kill the small historian.

  This did not go unnoticed by the old druid. Looking to Elly, he uttered his last words, “Forgive me Elly.”

  With his final life force, the old druid closed the gap on the Kesh mage and struck the metallic staff with his own. He pushed down on the tip of his own staff, forcing both staves to be pointed at the green dragon and running the tip all the way down to the tip of the Kesh staff calling on all the force that the Mother would provide him with. When the two tips met, a huge blast occurred, blinding everyone who was watching, including the dragon, with the shock wave knocking every living person and tree to the ground within a hundred yard radius. The bulk of the energy was directed at their ancient nemesis, Tyranna of the draconius.

  The battle was over.

  The tweeting bird was the first sign to Elister that he was alive. He opened his eyes and saw the small sparrow tweeting and hovering near his head, excited to see that his druid friend was still alive. The sky above was clear blue, and no canopy of trees or leaves blocked his view, though the bright orange rays of the setting sun were shining on the highest tops of the mountain side. It would soon be dark.

  Elly grabbed his head. It hurt intensely, and he waited for a minute before sitting up. The ground around him was flattened as if a giant hand had smashed it. Only the rock slabs were remaining in their original position. Elly looked to his right and saw the bodies of Wulfric and Edric. Both appeared dead, pasty white like Beth, and both had their eyes closed and were not moving.

  Elly felt sorrow and struggled to gain his feet. He looked to his left and saw a black charred area about the size of a very large table, with the ground black as night. It was the very same place that his master and the Kesh mage had fought. There was no sign of either of them.

  A loud, unnatural-sounding cough came from behind him, and he turned to face the dragon. It was lying on its belly, scales blown off of it and a large black scorched mark upon its massive chest, which heaved as it tried to breathe. Its massive front claws still pinned their victims to the ground.

  Lucina had a single claw piercing her abdomen. Blood flowed from the wound, and she was still, but conscious. She looked at Elly, tried to speak, but only blood came from her mouth. Her large, gauntleted hands were wrapped around the claw as she struggled to keep it from piercing her any further and her sword was embedded in the dragon’s foot.

  Helvie seemed unhurt, but a sharp claw rested upon her throat, and she struggled to breathe. The large foot of the dragon rested around her little body and she was suffocating. She also looked at Elly with terror, and the fear of death in her eyes. They both had little time to live.

  “Did you not hear me, Arnen?” the dragon said, black, bloody ichor coming from its mouth and dripping down its exposed fangs until it pooled beneath her.

  Elly was startled to hear the massive creature speak, and it took him a moment to compose himself. “No, what did you say?”

  The dragon nodded, its burned-out eyes glazed over a sickly white color, but it tilted its head as if listening. “Come closer,” it said.

  Elly paused for a moment and then saw Helvie’s face turning blue. Slowly he walked over to the great dragon and stood within its range to bite him. Elly wondered if he was stupid or brave. Most likely stupid, he thought to himself.

  The dragon coughed again, blood splattering everywhere, and Elly used the sleeve of his dirty robe to wipe it from his face, but he held his ground. “A life for a life?” the dragon asked.

  “What do you mean?” Elly asked.

  “Do not play games with me, Arnen,” the dragon said angrily. “I will kill your companions now, then.”

  The claws clenched, and both Lucina and Helvie struggled under the pressure. “No, wait,” Elly said.

  The claws released a bit more, and Helvie gasped, breathing in deep breaths of air while Lucina resumed breathing, never releasing the claw that had gored her. “Swear an oath on your precious Mother,�
� the dragon began. “You will protect one life to spare these lives.”

  Elly nodded, not understanding, but he complied, thinking only to save the noble woman and her protector. “I swear by Agon and all that is holy, on the honor of my order, that I will protect the life you give me.”

  The dragon nodded, laying its head down into the pool of blood. “Come quickly. I have little time.”

  Elly approached the beast and knelt in front of it, listening as it whispered draconian secrets that no human had ever heard before. When it was done, it spoke one last time, louder. “Go now, and fulfil your oath.”

  Elly stood and laid a hand on the great snout of the dragon. It lifted first the claw over Helvie, releasing her, and then it pulled its claw from Lucina, dropping it to the ground and freeing the holy warrior. Blood poured from her wound, and she lay there, dying. Elly ran to her and gave her his last vile of healing water, and he laid a hand on her forehead and began the process of mending her body.

  Silently, the great dragon drooped its head, lying it on the ground between it’s massive legs and with one final sigh of escaping air, it breathed its last. The green dragon was dead.

  After sometime, Elly stood and faced Helvie who sat crying silently on the ground. “Will she live?” Helvie asked, looking up and drying tears from her eyes.

  Elly nodded. “Yes. She may never fight again, but she will live. She will need sometime to heal. You must care for her.”

  “I will,” Helvie said.

  “Well done, Master Elister,” Diamedes said, his robe burned and his face scorched black with soot.

  “You live,” Elly stated, smiling at the historian.

  “I do, and if we’re to save any more lives, we need to act quickly.” The historian looked around.

  Elly nodded and then moved to the pillars where last he saw Dunric and Tristan. He found Dunric first, lying close by, badly burned as he rushed to the aid of his master. He was too close to the blast, but he looked pasty white, with some soot over his face and arms. “Did you help him?” Elly turned to Diamedes.