Blood Bride (Aarabassa World)

by Vickers, Catherine L

  ‘Just as well you waited. I was about to cast a freeze spell upon you, until I caught you up,’ Heather threatened.

  Your magic wouldn’t work on me. You’ll have to mature a bit yet.

  ‘Hah. Someone needs to teach you some manners dragon. It’s a good thing I’m conserving my energy or I might just do it myself.’

  When finally she caught up with him she realised that he was waiting for her on a ledge at the top of a huge cavern.

  Very well, he Mindtalked, magic yourself to the floor of this cavern, because that is where you are to Change. The Queen will arrive when you are ready.

  ‘Getting to the floor will be easy enough but what do you mean by Change? What am I to Change into?’ Heather asked promptly looking over the high ledge.

  The walls of the chamber were covered in sparkling rocks that threw a rainbow of light in all angles. Straight lines of beautiful colours filled the cavern shining from ceiling to floor and side to side. It was truly a magnificent sight.

  ‘Is this a magic cavern?’ She asked the dragon.

  No, the smaller dragon appeared impatient with her impertinent questioning. Are you going to Change into a dragon or not?

  ‘A dragon? Oh, yes, of course, I will Change into a dragon. Why didn’t I think of that? What colour do you think I should be?’

  Heather had not seen many of the dragons but she had favoured the Queen’s luscious red and rich gold.

  Who cares? The little dragon was growing impatient.

  ‘Very well, I suggest it’s time that you go call for the Queen. I’ll be ready for when she arrives.’ Heather was starting to dislike this little creature, even if he was Royal.

  She focused her mind away from his image, not wanting to replica his bright turquoise. It suited him though, in a regal sort of way. She wanted something a little more feminine. That was it, yes, she could be a stunning pure white. Without any further thought she instantly Changed her form in to that of a long slender snow white dragon. She turned her long snout up to observe the remaining little dragon who watched her from a high ledge.

  So, Royal One, where is the Queen then? She Mindtalked him, a little annoyed at his constant presence.

  He did not reply but hurried away from the chamber looking quite pleased with himself. Heather wondered at what he had to be so happy about, perhaps he felt attracted to her gracious charms. She was quite confident that she made a fine looking female dragon,

  9 The Crossing

  The Magic Wall shimmered with a glittering emerald green barrier, a splendid sight.

  Six bulky dragons stood firmly confronting the humming force. Heather positioned herself proudly, her snowy scales flickering whenever she swayed her body. The Queen stood next to her and four adult male dragons accompanied them.

  I meant to mention to you, Queen Thimat, Heather Mindtalked her companion, Your father could do with a few lessons in manners. Why he …

  Heather, my father no longer moves in this world, I am the oldest dragon in my lineage.

  So who was the little royal elderly dragon that directed me to the sparkling cavern and instructed me to Change to a dragon?

  I had assumed that you had chosen the dragon form yourself and I agreed and thought it a good idea.

  Oh. I see. That is strange isn’t it? So who is the little turquoise dragon who calls himself a Royal?

  This is not familiar to me. What is a turquoise, is it a name?

  Let’s just forget it shall we? Someone is playing tricks with me. I’ll attend to it later. Are you ready to pass through the Wall?

  Heather felt cheated by this little trickster. What was his game? She had not sensed any evil presence in him, in fact there had been a kind of cheeky kindness in his bearing.

  The Queen approached the radiating partition and quickly advanced through the Wall. Half of her body vanished as she advanced through the pulsing colours. Then she was gone. Heather followed, apprehensive of the magical elements. The four male dragons were at the rear and soon all had passed through the magical partition.

  It’s dark and cold here, Heather peered around in the deep gloom. Her dragon senses allowed better vision in the darkness and although her scales protected her from feeling the coldness, she just sensed the chill. She could make out the contour of dark icy walls where shiny wet icicles dangled dangerously, ready to thrust downwards upon any creature that walked under their piercing tips.

  This is only the Crossing Cavern, one of the males informed her, we must make our way up to the surface.

  The pathway was almost a mirror image to that which they had taken in the Lightland mid-mountain caves, following wide winding tunnels. The others seemed to know their way but Heather still imagined being lost for all of eternity in this never-ending labyrinth.

  At last, the air was fresher, they had arrived at the end of their underground journey.

  Heather departed from the damp underworld to look upon a spectacular landscape. The world appeared with a hue of sinister yellowish dimness. Nytloon shone down on them on a much grander scale, radiating with an eerie red and orange glow that almost seemed to pulsate. Never before had she seen this moon’s true colours. In the Lightlands, Nytloon was the least prominent of the two moons and pinker rather than this reddish colouring. The skies were truly extraordinary, dancing with a sprinkling of twinkling silver lights.

  What manner of creatures are those? Heather asked of herself.

  The dragons chuckled at her naive fascination. She could sense the chorus in their minds and turned to question them, taking them by surprise.

  What? She asked of them.

  My dear, Queen Thimat gently coaxed her. We all of us forget of the wonders and beauty that the Darklands have to offer. What you see in the skies are the stars of the outer worlds.

  What is this “outer worlds” that you speak of, Queen? Heather could not shift from her upwards gaze of the spectacular display of shimmering lights.

  It is believed among the dragon race that we are one world of many. Each light is known as a star and represents another set of worlds. We have enough problems of our own, so let’s not be worrying what other worlds are about.

  Can we travel to these other worlds? Heather asked as she continued to stare at the wonders.

  I know of no path, but the dragon race is not as curious as you humans who strive constantly for that which they have not yet found. In this, we differ. We are content to live in harmony with our own singular world.

  Realising that perhaps she was overreacting at the wonders that beset her, Heather turned to look at the dazzling landscape of the mid-mountains of Madzren. Covered in an incredible white carpet, it was very cold and wet to the touch.

  It is called ice and snow and covers most of the Darklands. Without the heat of the sun, there is nothing to provide this landscape with warmth, Queen Thimat explained to a baffled Heather.

  Never have I felt so bitterly cold. A human would perish in these lands.

  It is time to take flight, this snow is deep, even for a dragon’s body. Queen Thimat was keen to get moving. We will fly lower down in the mountains where the ice and snow is less prominent.

  The vast lands at the foot of the mountains are surrounded partly by frozen oceans. Then beyond the dark Archaronian Ocean lays the Ice Cap, home of the monshaads.

  All around the darkness invaded, the moon’s rays reflected from the pure whiteness of the snow and generated a yellowish haze of misty light. The bitter cold air infiltrated stabbing icy pains through the thick armour of the dragons’ bodies.

  Heather closed her armoured scales tighter around her reptilian body. Peering up at the dark sky again, puzzling over the twinkling dots. Although she now understood them to be called stars, she still found them astounding. The skies in the Lightlands never boasted such a show of illumination.

  No, we cannot leave the Wall, Heather suddenly remembered. We need to search for a part of the Wall that is curtained by yellow sulfurous gasses. It is there that the monsh
aad Emperor Morte-Bielz awaits our arrival.

  Heather did not wish to disclose that Rikka had informed her of the meeting place.

  I will not ask where you heard of such news child, but if he is making his voice heard on our side of the Wall, then his strength is truly growing.

  Queen Thimat felt an uneasy shudder at the notion of meeting with such treacherous creatures as the monshaads.

  There is no doubt of his reach, Queen. He’s even managed to communicate with the human King through his Mind Control powers.

  Dark shadows unexpectedly emerged in front of the group of dragons. They found themselves confronted by the ghostly monshaad Lords. An unwelcome voice interrupted their thoughts.

  I cannot greet those who should not be here. A malevolent Mindtalk penetrated all of their minds.

  Dragons are not welcome in my lands. You are all prisoners, that is, until the Changeling decides to make an appearance. Only then will I negotiate your freedom.

  Insolence! A male dragon Mindtalked to the Queen.

  Silence, Ramdon, Queen Thimat warned in a closed communication. I wish these creatures to believe that they have overpowered us. Keep your thoughts to yourself. The Changeling is well protected. We must observe before we make our move.

  As you wish my Queen.

  Ramdon would risk no harm to the safety of the Changeling or his Queen. He fully understood that the monshaads were not of the material world and near impossible to destroy.

  The Guardian Dragons stood solidly back to back within a large circle and settled themselves for a long wait. Meanwhile they silently observed the behaviour of their malevolent enemy, the monshaads. They would make no further movement until their Queen commanded that they battle or retreat, whichever she alone determined.

  10 Marshland Magic

  Leon arrived at the emerald green lagoon. Misty fogs swirled around over the centre of the deep waters. No creature has ever been to the bottom and survived to tell the tale. Thus, no one knows the true depth of this eerie pond. Tales have emerged of long necked grey monsters rearing up through the surface to show giant ugly heads, and then disappearing down into the deep endless depths of the boggy waters. Some say these waters are an underwater entrance to the Darklands Archeronian Oceans, though never proved. Travelers will not linger long anywhere close to the lagoons sandy shores.

  However, Leon being a young man of brave stature did not care to listen to tales told to frighten children. He decided to camp on the beach of the lagoon that very night. With absolutely no regrets upon this decision. He doused out his small cooking fire and stretched out his grey canvas cover to rest for the moonsleep. His horse Jhapar had other ideas, he chose not to rest so close to the waters edge. Leaving his master behind, he climbed further up the embankment to a dusty barren piece of wasteland that had been colonised with colourful plants that may prove to be quite tasty.

  The sun’s rays reflected from the green current of the lagoon creating an animated ripple that danced on the surface. Feeling a little agitated Leon watched the movement on the shore of the waters. He could only sleep in the darkness as he was used to blinds cutting out the light. He was finding the light of the sun distracting. Rolling over and turning his back to the reflection of light, he felt a cold chill, as if being watched. Frizzle had originally settled down in Leon’s camp but he also had slowly edged his way towards the horse’s choice of resting place. This had not gone unnoticed and further disturbed Leon’s fitful rest. It was usual for them to sleep back to back with the comfort of each others trusting friendship. Without his back covered he felt vulnerable and presumed this was why he felt so anxious.

  Finally, burying his head under his large leather saddle, he began to fall into a false sense of relaxation. Although it was pleasantly dimmer with his eyes covered by the saddle, the sour smell of sweat and leather was quite stifling. At least the sun rays were not so bright undercover.

  Floating into a dreamy state of unconsciousness, he slowly became confused of the passing of time and realised he was not asleep but standing in the middle of the lagoon, walking on the waters.....

  Disoriented, he sleepily staggered towards the waters edge. He could see Heather waiting for him, but the quicker he walked the further away the shoreline became......

  But, nay, he was not wandering on a lagoon but upon a black-silver ocean, searching for Heather. His hackles prickled at the back of his neck, he knew something was amiss......

  The waters churned creating a swirling pool, from its centre a gargantuan beast loomed before him drooling thick green slime between long black teeth and roaring with the bellow of a thousand trumpets. The stench of its breath was of decay and death itself. Quickly, he drew his sword, offering a duel. The beast opened its enormous wide jaws showing rows of sharpened blood dripping teeth. With no warning, the beast swallowed Leon completely, gurgling him deep into its acidy guts.....

  The sound of creaking bones and swirling water, filled Leon’s eardrums. He waded through knee-deep stinging, stinking yellow acid water. Tiny plankton nibbled at his legs causing his skin to burn with little hot pinpricks. He waded towards a wall of tall dark cliff edges where he could see the shape of a dark opening. Reaching this entrance, he followed a damp cold passageway that echoed with the sound of dripping water and swirling pockets of wind.....

  He reached a large opening in the floor, a bottomless black well. Peering into it, he toppled down. Floating in darkness, not knowing or even caring for his fate, it seemed an endless fall until, gently, he landed on a ledge revealing the opening of another long narrow tunnel. Clambering, with blood streaked injured hands and raw knees, he painfully crawled through the constricted burrow. Arriving at an antechamber containing five exits, he could see symbols of creatures above the doorways. Leon glanced at the icon of a dragon, the silhouette of a human, the shape of a lizard, an outline of a giant insect and one more. He chose the last, depicting the flight of an eagle.....

  Following the tunnel to the very end, he found himself perching on another ledge high up a mountain. Standing on a windy rocky ledge, he glanced up towards the light blue skies and watched as a strange black cloud approached. Small dark shapes increased in size as they neared him and he could see they resembled huge strange birds. Once upon him he watched each creature, pure white with a wingspan as wide as the sail of a ship, glide towards him. Prominent through the thin white skin of the bird were the dark lines of its skeletal shape. Was it a huge replica of the small bats he often watched flying from the rooftops of the buildings at home? What manner of creatures were these? Atop the leading bird, perched a different creature of a human shape but so very pale, it appeared painted. The beautiful features indicated this was a female. She seemed uncannily familiar yet he had never before seen these creatures. She flew close to him whilst he wavered on the ledge. His heart pounded at the sight of her. No, it could not be. He slumped down onto the cold stony floor and he knew in his heart that it was her; it was Heather....

  Leon awoke with a start. Leaping up swiftly, he bumped his face on something over his head. Throwing off the cumbersome saddle that he had ingeniously used to shade himself with, he jumped to his feet to confront the imminent danger. Yet there he stood, alone at the waters edge. He realised it had been nothing but a simple dream. Laughing aloud at his childish nightmare he started to pack up camp. Where had that dog got to? No sooner had he looked up to find Frizz, he heard the waters of the lagoon swirling noisily. Slowly he turned to see the circling of a whirlpool forming on the surface. From its centre a colossal head appeared. Leon’s jaws opened as he yelled at the monster he recognised from his dream. There was only one course of action to be had. Promptly, he ran up the embankment and jumped on Jhapar’s back.

  ‘Quick boy, get us out of here, now!’

  Frizz yelped, ears and tail cowardly lowering. Not even bothering to look behind. He had sensed it was better to just follow his master. Soon horse, dog and human were well away from the haunted lagoon. Leon had left
behind his saddle and other meagre belongings that he owned. All they had left now were the few provisions that were contained in the saddlebag still hanging loosely over Jhaper’s back. He must now journey bare back on his horse. This was going to be a bumpy ride.

  By the end of the moonwake they had made good time in their haste and arrived at the Morkodian Marshes. Never having been through the marshes alone, he trustingly followed a map the dwarves had provided for him. One wrong turn would see him swallowed up in the green marsh pools, never to be seen again. Following landmarks such as a particular shaped thorny Jujubi tree, a field of giant blue ferns, particular shaped rugged rocks, it was like a game of obstacles: find the item, move on a step, beware the deadly traps. Sometimes the surface was solid enough to walk upon with muddy sodden grasses that squelched underfoot. Other times the waterlogged land sank into slimy green pools that smelled of rotten eggs and bad gasses. At one point, the little group of weary travelers needed to cross over a black stinking pool of some green oily substance. They each balanced on a huge rotten tree trunk that had collapsed and fallen into its convenient position as an unstable bridge. The large trunk, not only soft with rotten wood, was also slippery with a covering of moist green moss. Not at all a kind surface to a horse’s hooves and dog’s paws. By the time they had arrived safely at the other side of the stinking bog, it was well into the moonsleep. They looked to camp down. It was difficult to find anywhere that did not smell foul or was not flooded with wet bogs.

  Finally, they all agreed on a group of large flat rocks. Jhapar made do with a small bag of oats, now that supplies were diminishing. Leon and Frizzle settled for chewy dried up salted meat, which always proved useful in hard times. Attempting to doze, they were constantly nervous of the noisy bubbly movements emanating from oily murky waters that practically surrounded them. Leon’s thighs were sore and achy from riding bare back. The air was damp and thickly humid. The rock was hot from the scorching sun and the surrounding hot bubbling waters. The human concealed himself completely under the protection of his cloak, which served to dull the sun’s warmth and light slightly, and keep out some of the fetid smell. Under his body lay dirty clothing, a feeble attempt to soften the hard stone floor. Feeling secure, with Frizzle’s body at his back, he steadily sank into a blissful sleep.....