Mythborn

by Lakshman, V.

  “We have no other option!” shouted the Keeper, turning on Giridian. He caught himself, his chagrined expression mixed with shame and worry. Then his voice dropped to a whisper and he confided, “We have no other option, Lore Father. Only these Adepts, each fully trained and bonded, can stem the tide unleashed in Lilyth’s realm and match Sovereign’s forces here on Edyn.”

  He placed a hand on Giridian’s shoulder and squeezed. “Forgive me, but you cannot allow doubt to cloud your mind either. You must persevere, be the rock upon which these initiates can rest their faith, earn their place amongst the Ascended.”

  Giridian placed a hand upon his brow, rubbing it as he watched dust motes freeze in the air. The boy’s hand was sloppily chambered, his foot wasn’t correctly canted, his knee was locked… three mistakes he could see without even trying. Worse, he knew Tomas could do better, so these simple mistakes spoke to problems rooted deeper in his mind.

  As if he knew what Giridian was thinking and wanted to distract him, Thoth said, “I would introduce you to someone.”

  Thoth motioned and from the air stepped another figure, a girl not much older than Tomas by the look of her. She stepped forward and bowed, one fist to her chest. It was then that he noticed her golden eyes and the wings that sat folded neatly on her back. This girl was no girl.

  “Greetings, Lore Father. Fate falls kindly upon thee,” said the girl. “I art Sai’ken.”

  Giridian blinked, then the memories he’d shared of Themun’s youth flooded back and he said, “Your father is Rai’stahn.”

  “Verily,” said the girl, smiling. That smile revealed row upon row of fanged teeth. Sai’ken looked up at him from under arched eyebrows, her golden gaze almost piercing his soul. “I hath been charged by the Conclave to lend aid to thine Adepts. Wouldst thou share with me their path?”

  Giridian looked from her to Thoth, who added, “Finding Armun Dreys is key, and Sai’ken knows him. Your adepts could use the help.”

  “I’ve…” he began, then paused to clear his throat. “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Ken my only service is protecting the land and all her people. We dragons serve the Way, just as thee and thine doth. However,” she paused, looking at him in that discerning way only dragons could do, “Sais serve for the sake of vitality and potency. Do not believe thou art being misled in my ability to aid and succor thine adepts. We are not Rais.” This last was said with an arching eyebrow, as if the idea of being akin to the other type of dragons was somehow offensive.

  “And you want to find Dragor and Jesyn and do what, exactly?” His mistrust had not diminished despite her openness.

  Sai’ken looked to Thoth, who nodded once. Then the dragon looked back at him and said, “Armun may be held by the Sovereign. Thine adepts art ill-equipped to suborn his release. I will aid thee, and thereby assure success.”

  Giridian absorbed this, still thinking. Before Kisan had disappeared she’d related that Rai’stahn had bonded with the red mage and fought against her and Silbane. They’d barely escaped with their lives. Now Rai’stahn’s daughter asked for the location of two more of his people. Telling this dragon the whereabouts of his adepts did not sit well with him, so he did the next best thing. He told the truth.

  “I only know they strove towards the Dawnlight Mountain. Part of their effectiveness stems from being given a certain amount of latitude to carry out their orders. Their exact location is unknown to me now.”

  Sai’ken’s golden eyes narrowed as she seemed to ponder his answer. Then she sighed and said, “I shall hearken unto Dawnlight and search for their scent. Mayhap Fate’s fortune shall smile upon me yet.”

  Rather than say anything else, Giridian looked at the Keeper and decided to take a different tact. He knew they had been looking into the old records and asked, “Have you or the dragons learned anything about my runestaff?”

  Thoth leaned back, resting his head on his own staff and closing his eyes. To Giridian his stance exuded a weariness beyond reckoning. When the Keeper opened his eyes, the lore father looked away out of respect. There seemed a profound sadness there. Then he turned to Sai’ken and said, “Tell him.”

  The dragon nodded, stepped forward, and said softly, “Thine staff is the key for a lock known as the Phoenix Stone.”

  That was new. He turned to the Keeper and asked, “What is this stone?”

  Thoth made his way over to the frozen form of Tomas, inspecting him but addressing Giridian. “It holds within it a way to reshape things, to remake them based on the whims of the runestaff’s wielder.”

  “And how’s that better than what Sovereign wants?” the lore father scoffed. “Are we just trading one oblivion for another?”

  Thoth didn’t respond right away, his eyes far away. Then he said, “The Phoenix Stone does not have to remake the world… it can remake just the Maker.”

  It occurred to Giridian that the Keeper seemed to be avoiding his gaze. Why would that be? he asked himself. He held that thought aside, comprehension slowly dawning about what the Keeper had just said. “You think the stone can kill Sovereign but leave the world intact?”

  It was the dragon who responded, “Placing thine runestaff upon the stone endues forth life. Of that, we art certain.”

  Thoth cleared his throat and said, “Of course, the wielder would have to be there.”

  “Great!” smiled the lore father, holding out his staff. “Take my runestaff and finish this for Edyn. I release it to you.”

  Neither Thoth nor the dragon reacted to the offer. Each stood still, and in that stillness Giridian could sense trepidation.

  Then Thoth smiled, though the smile did not seem to reflect what the Keeper felt inside. “I wish it were that easy, Lore Father. First, we don’t know where the Phoenix Stone is. You must keep your Adepts vigilant for any clues they may come across.”

  Of course they didn’t know where it was. Then the fact that Thoth had avoided his gaze earlier raised its head again, asking for attention. A sinking feeling came over the bear-like lore father as he said, “I feel like I’m not going to like the second thing you’re going to say.”

  Thoth shook his head. “No, I doubt you will. You can’t give away the runestaff, Lore Father. You were chosen and must be the one to command it until a new lore father is chosen.”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Thoth looked around the chamber. He seemed upset, which worried Giridian more. Finally, he sighed and said, “The only way to command the Phoenix Stone is through sacrifice. The runestaff must be powered by intent and will, and there is no intent or will stronger than sacrifice freely given.”

  He saw what Thoth meant, and now understood their hesitation in speaking. He should have known becoming Lore Father wouldn’t end in any good way for him. Giridian breathed in through his nose, which ended in an involuntary chuckle that burst forth, a sound that echoed the irony he felt within.

  As if she understood what he laughed at, Sai’ken laid a gentle hand on Giridian’s arm and said, “The only way one canst command the Stone… is to die upon it.”

  Conclave

  Success is not birthed from success,

  it is the child of failure, catastrophe, and ruin.

  And dies stillborn if not acted on lessons learned.

  - Duncan Illrys, Remembrances

  The cavern walls were lit from beneath in an orange ruddy glow as magma flowed between sections of solid ground, creating crisscross patterns of rock and fire. Rai’stahn, dragon-knight of the Conclave, stepped forward and bowed to the empty air with his mailed fist to his chest.

  “I obey thy summons,” he said in a deep voice that echoed throughout the chamber, making the place seem bigger than it truly was. He cast his sight about the enclosed space, his yellow eyes glowing in the dark like twin suns. He did not have to wait long for his call to be answered.

  “What tithing dost thou bring before us, son of Edyn?” The voice rumbled like gravel on stone. Rai’stahn knew it well,
like the sound of his own heartbeat. It was the voice of he who was father to all dragons, the mighty Rai’kesh, awakened upon the emergence of Lilyth. Rai’stahn watched impassively as the great dragon’s head took form, hovering in the air inches before his own, dwarfing him with its presence.

  Slowly, the dragon-knight went to one knee and said, “Bara’cor is lost. The demon-queen uses it as a staging area for her forces. The battle will be thither.” Slowly, he extended a taloned hand and spread it upon the floor. “I beg thee, attend.” Then he closed his eyes, and the memories of everything that he had witnessed thus far became available for the Conclave to see.

  Rai’stahn shared everything, as protocol demanded—his meeting with Themun and his agreement to convey Silbane and Arek, and their subsequent fight at the Far’anthi Tower. He shared his capture and oath bonding by the ancient archmage Scythe, whom they knew as Duncan Illrys, and his second fight with Silbane and the other adept, Kisan. Silbane had used his oath bond against him, escaping with Duncan into Bara’cor. That had led to the destruction of the nomad army by Lilyth as she enveloped Bara’cor in her phasing shield, proof against their interference.

  When he was finished he leaned back, the only visible sign he was exhausted even though only a few heartbeats had passed. Breathing in deeply, he settled on his haunches and waited, still shaking from either the exertion of the mind sharing, or the anger at reliving his failure in the desert once again. He would accept whatever punishment the Conclave judged appropriate. Rais were not given the honorific for demonstrating failure, and losing the spawn of Valarius would be dealt with harshly, of that he was certain.

  Sibilant whispers echoed throughout the cavern, perhaps condemning him even as he did. To have been bested twice by the same man was shame enough, but to have to share it with those gathered was a difficult thing to bear. Despite his acceptance, Rai’stahn’s anger grew.

  “It is good thou didst not attempt the shield.”

  Rai’stahn cocked his head and snarled, “Wherefore?”

  The great dragon paused, it seemed surprised that the young knight would question him, but Rai’stahn no longer cared. At this point, one more transgression would not materially affect their decision, so he voiced his doubt. After a moment, it seemed Rai’kesh was willing to answer.

  “The shield phases Bara’cor between worlds. Its touch will siphon thy life force to Lilyth. We feared losing thee.”

  Rai’stahn sighed, thinking about what he knew of this emergence, then said, “Yea anon she endues her Aeris through, for they can exist unbonded within the shield.”

  The air around the great dragon coalesced into a cloud of red mist, a mist that seemed alive as it coiled itself into the form of a man. From that shape stepped forth another knight, his armor blood-red to Rai’stahn’s black. He smiled, laying a taloned claw on the kneeling knight’s shoulder, and said, “Rise.”

  Rai’stahn looked up at his king in surprise. “I had thought thou wouldst—”

  “Punish thee?” The great dragon laughed and then helped Rai’stahn up. “Mayhap we underestimated clear portends?” He nodded to the younger dragon-knight and said, “She hath always sought Edyn’s unification. Only her methods beg question.”

  Rai’stahn didn’t know what to say. He had expected far worse, consoling himself only that his daughter was still safe upon Meridian Isle and would not share in his punishment. This reprieve had caught him off-guard and he hung his head, unable to meet his king’s gaze.

  Rai’kesh nodded in understanding, then began walking slowly to an arch cut in the rock. As he neared, two dwarven figures stepped back, bowing deferentially. The king of dragons ignored them, instead talking over his shoulder to the younger knight who followed.

  “Doth thou think thou’re the only dragon who hath suffered defeat at the hands of a mortal?” Rai’kesh let out another laugh and said, “Argus was to me what Silbane is to thee. Doth not despair. Mayhap thou wilt come to be stalwart cater-cousins, as I and my nemesis became.” He paused, then turned serious, saying, “Something lies below what thine eyes can plainly see. Lilyth exhausted herself in the Demon Wars and learned subjugation cannot lead to victory. Thou cannot kill what thou means to possess.”

  “What then, is her plan?”

  “We ask ourselves the same… wherefore destroy the other fortresses?”

  Rai’stahn looked at his king and said, “The archmage revealed ’twas to fix the Gate to one place.”

  Rai’kesh smiled, revealing row upon row of fangs glistening white and orange in the rock light. “Haply, but not for sake of her army. If invasion hath been her goal, several gates wouldst afford the greatest tactical advantage.”

  They made their way through a tunnel hewn from the rock itself, emerging into another chamber. This one was larger and cooler, with stone arches along its perimeter creating a circular amphitheater. In each arch stood a motionless dwarven soldier, so still they could be mistaken as statues if not for the heat Rai’stahn saw emanating from their skin. The mystery of the disappearance of the dwarves was, for dragons, no mystery at all.

  While many had vanished along with Dawnlight to exist in-between Edyn and Lilyth’s realm, those in the service of dragons had continued their pledge. Rai’kesh motioned to them and said, “They give us another chance.”

  Rai’stahn nodded, “Yet they art not enough to withstand the Aeris within Bara’cor, who by anon wilt number in the thousands.”

  “And what of Dawnlight?”

  “The mountain is—” Rai’stahn stopped, then turned and faced his king, his golden eyes narrowing. “What dost thou mean?” A dozen thoughts flitted through the dragon’s keen mind until comprehension dawned. He breathed in, realizing if his king were correct, Lilyth pursued a plan far more cunning than he had ever given her credit for.

  Rai’kesh saw it and he asked, “What would it take to anchor Dawnlight again?”

  Rai’stahn did not answer, instead saying, “I need to journey in-between, to the phased mountain, and seek the dwarves.”

  The great dragon shook his massive head. “We dispatched a Sai. Thou wilt prepare our forces for war. If I am wrong, Bara’cor will be the point of the spear.”

  Rai’stahn looked around the chamber, thinking. If Lilyth could secure Dawnlight, anchor it to her realm, she could possess an entire mountain filled with builders. With their bodies, what could she not accomplish?

  He turned to Rai’kesh and said, “Dost thou think she will lay-to the dwarves to take Edyn?”

  Rai’kesh shook his head, “Nay, Edyn hath always been a mere step towards her ultimate goal.”

  “Sovereign,” Rai’stahn said, meeting his king’s gaze. “But how wouldst she find Dawnlight? It hath evaded her grasp for centuries.”

  “I wot not, but the new lore father hath dispatched two adepts to the north. Thou stood as sentinel while we slept, ranging Edyn far and wide. Is thither a danger?”

  Rai’stahn thought about it. It was well known Sovereign had taken the mountain after the dwarves had escaped into the phase. The only way to find Dawnlight now was by the hand of the dwarven king, and he did not suffer outsiders. None were welcome, as he had found out so many years ago with Armun Dreys. But the enemy of an enemy…

  He turned to his king and said, “Sovereign still captures the dwarven people with his own assassins. Mayhap they look kindly upon others so beset.”

  “And tender them aid?” Rai’kesh looked away, plainly thinking through what it would mean should the dwarves make themselves known to these adepts. “We wilt know more ’ere choosing a path.”

  “Thou sayeth a Sai hath been…” then the realization of just who had been sent hit him. “Thou placed payment for mine failure upon mine daughter’s feet?”

  “Thou speaketh as if I can command her. She art a Sai, and as our future queen-mother, well beyond mine own purview.”

  Rai’stahn clenched his jaws in frustration. He turned to his king and said, “Being a Sai matters not. She’s stubbor
n and bent upon her own path, a trait it seems all those I hold dear share.”

  The king grasped Rai’stahn’s arm, holding him in place, and said, “Ask yourself, in what world will thy daughter live if Lilyth defeats Sovereign? He maintains the Rais and Sais, for we still follow the First Laws. Will Lilyth doth the same?”

  When Rai’stahn didn’t answer, the king shook him and demanded again, “Will she?”

  Rai’stahn fell back a step, still fearful for who they had sent. “She’s only a child.”

  The king laughed. “She is a Sai, one of the rare few, and bears herself as proudly as her father! Yet how handily doth she play us to her own ends. Thou worries overly so for a daughter who hath proved her mettle.” He then clasped the dragon-knight’s shoulder in a friendlier embrace. “Ask yourself truly, what will happen should Sovereign fall?

  Rai’stahn sighed and said, “Lilyth will not suffer our presence.”

  “And so,” agreed his king, “we must be prepared to seize the day. Perhaps ’tis time for us to consider a greater sacrifice, something that will truly safeguard Edyn’s future.”

  “What be her mission?” asked Rai’stahn uneasily. He knew he ought to be thinking of what greater sacrifice the king intended, but he could not stop worrying about Sai’ken. Worse, it was likely she’d volunteered, making his issue with her and not an order he could argue with his king. And dealing with Sai’ken was not a thought he relished.

  “The adepts seek thine old companion, one thy daughter knows well enough, shouldst he still live.”

  “Armun,” stated the dragon-knight matter-of-factly. “His hand may not remain so benevolent.”

  Rai’kesh turned and faced Rai’stahn, “Then pray Sai’ken achieves her goal, finding and delivering him back to us ’ere Lilyth or these adepts. Armun may be the last piece in this game of kings we play for Edyn’s salvation.”

  “Dost thou think so?” Rai’stahn said miserably, his gaze on an empty space one could imagine was the memory of his daughter.

  “Sai’ken is the key to Edyn’s victory,” replied the dragon-king, his warm yellow gaze still upon the dark dragon-knight at his side. Rai’kesh paused, bringing his voice to bear in what sounded like a declaration of prophecy, “And our Oath is the only way to achieve victory.”