Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga)

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Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) Page 25

by Alexander, Ian


  "You should have run." It said, its breath many times hotter than the heat of a furnace. Render had to shut his eyes because of the acrid smoke and intense heat.

  "Open your eyes, BOY! See what you are made of. I am your spirit potential, I am the darkness within you that you know so well. I know every wrong you've committed." It held him close to its face. "Serve Valhandra and you shall be nothing. Serve me..."

  "No!"

  The snapping just above his stomach must have been a rib. A sharp pain drove like a spear into his body.

  "Accept your true identity and find your peace. I will make you the bright and morning star, a king above all nations." It drew another hissing breath. As it spoke, though its breath stank of death, Render relaxed and ceased his striving. Still clutching his torso, the giant dragon relented slightly.

  "What will Valhandra make you? His slave? Will you cower before Him, do his every bidding as you did Bobbington? I will give into your hands the empires of this entire world!"

  At that very moment, Render's vision grew dark. Would he die here, just like that? Is this what Valhandra had sent him for?

  // I SHAN'T BE A SLAVE, EVER AGAIN! //

  "Yes." The dragon smiled, with terrifying teeth. "You see the truth now." It set him down on the ground and released him. Render staggered back and caught his balance. He gasped deeply, wheezing a long breath, then taking a series of short ones.

  Now, before him stood his doppelganger. Render, as a young boy. And in Render's own voice, he said, "Valhandra is a liar. What can he do for you? Look, I can give you your heart's desire."

  Then the young doppelganger turned and ran to the opposite side of the wall. Smoke still obscured the outskirts. Yet beneath an amber light stood a beautiful woman, with long ebony hair and fair complexion. The young "Render" ran into her arms. "Mother!"

  The woman stroked the young doppelganger’s hair lovingly and kissed his head. Then she looked up and spoke to the true Render. "I'll restore the memories Valhandra stole from you, my son."

  Render's eyes blurred with hot tears. A sob ached in his chest and he wanted to cry, "Mother!" for he had missed her so, his entire life. He longed to know her, even if she was just the memory of her, just an illusion.

  Mother stretched forth her hand. "Oh, my son. How I have missed you."

  Everything that made him who he was could be summed up here. Valhandra had never said anything about Mother. Never mentioned a word about the things that really mattered. Was He even who claimed?

  "Take my hand, my son. And we shall never again be apart."

  And then, despite all he'd been taught, not regarding anything he'd heard in the presence of Valhandra, like a moth drawn to fire, Render took a step towards her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  With each step Render took, time seemed to leak away like water from a cracked jar. It was not his own will that moved him towards the image of his mother, but he did not think he could resist it. He wanted to see what she looked like, know the scent of her hair, feel the touch of her gentle hand, hear the soft words of unconditional love only she could speak.

  "Mother?"

  "Yes." She smiled, so warm, so accepting. "Come, my son."

  As Render stretched out his hand, he didn't realize that the doppelganger—the younger version of himself—had vanished.

  At last, the desire of your heart will be fulfilled. All of who you are, and all you ever wanted to know, stands before you.

  "Give me your hand, Render," she said in a comforting, maternal tone.

  Only a few more steps and he would be forever reunited with her.

  A sound echoed through the corridor behind him. But Render hardly noticed. At first it reminded him of a bird.

  Then the tones became musical.

  Mother's face remained pleasant. But her voice became tense. "Come along, now Render. Give me your hand!"

  But the sound, the song playing in the shrine's corridor drew his eyes from Mother's image. He stopped, turned his face to the music.

  "Render! Do not be distracted. Take my hand. NOW!" The anger in her tone startled him. He turned around, and though what he saw nearly made him gasp, he pretended that the shock of it had not in fact snapped him out of the trance.

  "Yes, mother." He took another step, but realized now that the beautiful woman calling him "son" had black scales growing all over her bare arms, her neck, her face. Her elegant fingers grew long and curved into claws.

  The music grew louder but it seemed only to be in his mind. It was a familiar song, a song he must have known his entire life, but could not say just what it was.

  Fire raged in his chest. It overwhelmed the pain of his cracked rib.

  "Quickly, Render," the scaly beast in Mother's black gown said, extending her claws. Render recoiled at what he'd thought had been the memory of his mother, now transforming into a reptilian apparition. "We haven't much time!"

  And then, from within him, everything burst to life. The song, the words sown into the soil of his heart, the sudden clarity and courage at seeing the beast for what it really had been all along.

  Still feigning his trance, Render reached out his hand.

  "Yesssss," hissed the beast. Now growing slimily, its scales gurgled as it rippled out of the gown and into full dragon form.

  Before it could react, Render swung his sword with such speed and force, it whistled as it cut through the smoky air. The beast let out an angry roar just as the blade came slashing down, slicing off its left hand at the wrist.

  The beast roared and grew to full size, towering over Render. It struck him with its right fist, sending Render flying back at a wall. But a blue ball of light engulfed him and cushioned him from the impact.

  Render set his feet back down, and stood tall.

  Slowly, he raised the point of his sword at the hissing monster.

  Slowly, he raised his eyes up to the beast.

  And slowly, a bold smile emerged onto Render's countenance as his hands began to glow with crackling lightning. All trepidation and emotions over the false images vanished. He was looking into the glassy eyes of a black dragon twice the size of an elephant.

  And he was not afraid.

  The dragon let out a fierce roar and spewed forth a column of fire. But Render merely lifted his sword, drew a circle in the air and a blue-white shield appeared before him, deflecting it until the dragon had expended its breath.

  Then Render leaped into the air and soared high above the smoke. He landed on the back of the dragon, whose arms, though he stood erect on two legs, were too short to reach around to pluck him off. Render spun around and grabbed the neck of the dragon between his knees, mounting it like a horse.

  The dragon flailed about, reaching wildly at its back, spinning around so many times its massive tail crashed several times into the walls, sending up sprays of dust and rock.

  It panted nervously, spewing flames with each breath.

  Render tossed his sword over his shoulder so he could grasp the beast's neck with both hands. It was so thick—thicker than a Colossus Pine—he could not get his arms around it. But he dug his fingers in between the scales, which felt cold and wet, like raw mussels or clams.

  The dragon threw itself down. Tried to roll over on its back and crush Render. But Render sunk his fingers in so far he could feel the hot, soft flesh under the dragon's scales. He sent a buzzing current of energy into it which seemed to paralyze the dragon.

  It howled in pain. Hissing like water poured on red hot lava rocks, it said, "You can't kill me! It'll be the death of you, all your dreams!"

  In that very moment, Render recalled the dead soldiers at the pool of madness, how everything they did reflected back on themselves.

  More of the planted words bloomed into life. Now, they blossomed, one at a time.

  // TRUTH //

  // POWER //

  // HIS NAME... //

  Even the name has power.

  "By the name of Valhandra...!"

&nbs
p; The dragon wailed in pain.

  Then, with each subsequent word, Render sunk his fingers deeper into the dragon's soft flesh, popping off scales which fell to the ground.

  "You...

  ...are...

  ...not...

  ...ME!"

  Impossible thought it may be, a thunderclap filled the temple. Blue light flashed, almost blinding Render. Like spears, some seven lightning bolts launched from the air and into the sides of the dragon.

  They penetrated its scaly armor and looked like solid silver, protruding from its body as black blood oozed from the wounds. As the dragon convulsed, the bolts sizzled and snapped angrily, humming like a swarm of hornets. Render jumped down, as it was now lying on its side, its limbs twitching violently, its red tongue turning dark blue.

  This continued for another second and then the shining bolts drove all the way into the beast until they vanished. The dragon's entire body lit up. A final spurt of fire dribbled out of its gaping mouth. Then a long strand of black smoke.

  The glow from its body remained bright for a while longer. Then a most remarkable thing happened.

  The dragon's body transformed into the form of Render's mother, who's beautiful face looked pathetically at him. She reached out her bloody stump and untransformed claws and pled. "Render, my son. Please..."

  But when the forked tongue slipped out and lay across her face, Render had to turn away. He could not stand to look upon that perverse image, an insult to his mother's memory.

  It let out a choking shriek, full of hatred and anger.

  Render turned his head back and watched in disgust as it writhed and turned into the form of a black panther, his brother Kaine, Ahndien, and finally, Render himself.

  And then, like the last ember of a dying fire, the light died.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  Render sent a lightning bolt into a large stone which caused it to glow, illuminating the chamber.

  When the entire area became visible, he beheld what could only be described as an ancient assembly hall covered in dust, cobwebs and broken rock. This entire place of worship had been carved into the mountain walls and must have been a sanctuary for the Sojourners during the years of their systematic extermination.

  Apparently, it had become a site for some sort of sinister proving ground. Still, why had Valhandra sent him here? Was it just to destroy that dark voice that had accused him all his life? There had to be a greater purpose.

  The hall stretched far into the shadows, at least two hundred feet in every direction. The fight with the dragon had only been at the entrance. He stepped over to where the dragon's body had finally transformed into that of a young man's.

  In its place now lay a small heap of ashes.

  There seemed to be a thin layer covering a small rectangular slab.

  Render reached down to pick it up, expecting it to be hot. But it was actually quite cold to the touch. He held it away from his face and blew off the ashes. In his hand, he held a stone tablet with writing in the ancient Sojourner lexicon.

  He should not have been able to interpret it so easily, but it was as though it had been written in his own native tongue. On it, he read:

  "When thou standeth alone surrounded by thine enemies, prophesy to the valley, from whence cometh thy help."

  The images from his and Ahndien's sword came to mind:

  Two weapons of war—UNITED—one instrument of peace.

  Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, the depths of his spirit, a sense of purpose and destiny came alive. A bright azure glow filled the entire assembly hall, casting shadows on the bones of several princes from ages past, unsuccessful at overcoming the dark spirit of the entire tabernacle.

  At that moment, he knew. Something had been unlocked. Something ancient and powerful, terrifying and beautiful. It was the message on the slab, coming together with the unspeakable words Valhandra had planted into his heart.

  The valley.

  From whence cometh thy help.

  Thy destiny.

  Render now realized that the blinding light came from his body. It glowed like the sun, and yet he did not burn. Then, before him against the wall arose a shadow which at first made him gasp. The shadow of a dragon, its enormous wings unfurled, its razor sharp talons outstretched, and powerful tail swinging. But just as soon as Render drew a surprised breath, the fear vanished.

  As did the shadow.

  He stood tall, picked up his sword, sheathed it besides Ahndien's.

  The hour was at hand to unite the peoples of their kingdoms, and to face the forces of Malakandor. He took three steps towards the exit and paused.

  "But am I ready?"

  The very thought resounded in his mind as though it were the wide open assembly hall.

  // INDEED YOU ARE, MY SON //

  Render smiled, threw his shoulders back and marched right past the bones scattered through the corridor. He knew not exactly what the future held.

  But he knew who held the future.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  When Render emerged from the shrine, the moon had dropped behind the mountains. Over the Eastern peaks, a faint amber hue infused the otherwise purple horizon. The first thing he noticed as he stepped outside was how fragrant the air had become. No stench, no dust, just the sweet smell of Tianese jasmine and other desert flowers.

  "Render!" Ahndien called out. She ran over to him, clutching a wooden flute. "Are you—?"

  "I'm all right." She threw her arms around him and held him so tight, so long, he wondered when she would ever let go. But then, instead of pulling away, he sank into her embrace, holding her tight. "I'm all right."

  Finally, she pulled back and gazed at him, her eyes brown and wide. "I thought you might..." she turned to Greifer, who had assumed the form of the black cat again. "She said that only one other person in the last two thousand years had ever come out alive."

  In her feline form, Greifer came over and circled Render's legs, pressing up against them and purring.

  "It was horrid." He glanced back into the entrance of the shrine, which looked as dead and dark as it had when he first arrived. "And at the same time, wondrous." Sitting with her on a rock, with Branson and Greifer on the ground, Render went on to tell them all that had happened inside.

  When he got to the part when he killed the dragon, Greifer became a woman again. "Did you say, dragon?"

  "Yes." Render shuddered. "I never knew they existed, at least not in our world. Hideous thing, that. To think, it was trying to make me believe that a dragon is my true nature."

  "I wouldn't mind that," said Branson. "Just imagine, no one ever daring to bother you, scaring your enemies away with nothing more than your breath..."

  "Don't you already do that?" Render smirked.

  Branson stuck his tongue out at him.

  "Anyway," Render said, grinning at Branson. "If I never see another dragon again, it will be too soon."

  Greifer stood with her back to the young ones, her watchful eyes on the hills. "In some cultures, the dragon is seen as a symbol of evil." She wrapped the black cloak tightly around her shoulders. "But it is not always so. Nevertheless, dragons are most rare. As rare as princes that emerge victorious from the shrine."

  "Well, there's no recorded history of anyone ever seeing them." Branson's voice trembled. His teeth began to chatter as a dewy cloud from the mountain floated through the valley and turned the air biting cold.

  Ahndien flicked her index finger, and a small fire bloomed from the ground—though there was nothing that could burn in the sand. A flame rose up and burned like a torch.

  "Thanks." Branson rubbed his hands together and then fanned out his palms to warm them.

  Despite what Greifer had said about dragons, it didn't change how Render felt. "All the same, I'll be happy never to see another one in my lifetime." He turned to Ahndien, who now leaned back against his shoulder. From what little he could see of her face, she seemed sad. "What's wrong?"

  Snapp
ing out of whatever had been consuming her thoughts, she turned around and forced a weak smile. "Oh, nothing. I'm just glad you're safe."

  "You're not fooling anyone." Render put his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently with his thumb. "You've been this way since Valhandra—"

  "Please!" She stood up, threw her flute into the sand, and walked away. Just let me be!" Walking past Greifer, she disappeared round the corner of a rock formation. In the quiet of the night, her muffled sobs kept leaking through what must have been her hands.

  Render got to his feet, bent down to pick up her flute, and started for the rocks behind which Ahndien wept. But Greifer held up her hand.

  // LET HER //

  // BUT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S MAKING HER SO SAD //

  // TO EACH THEIR OWN PATH, RENDER. WHEN READY, SHE SHALL EXPLAIN //

  He leaned a shoulder against the rock wall and waited. The smooth surface of Ahndien's flute warmed in his hands. With a heavy sigh, he shut his eyes. All he wanted to do was to comfort her, to let her know that he'd never let anything happen to her. But she would not let him know what it was the troubled her so. And this, despite his ability to fly and summon lightning, made him feel powerless.

  Greifer padded away, leaving him there.

  Ahndien grew quiet.

  Taking a deep breath, Render stood away from the wall. "Ahndien, please. Talk to me."

  To his surprise, she came round the corner and appeared before him. Her eyes still shimmered, but a peaceful smile now graced her countenance like the soft blanket of winter's first snow. She put her hand on his chest, and leaned into the crook of his neck. "Forgive me. I was...I was just thinking of my family."

  "Of course. How obtuse of me." He handed her her flute, held her close and kissed the top of her head. Then he turned her around to look her straight in the eye. "Are you sure there isn't anything else?"

  At first she held his gaze, silently. Then she looked down, took back her flute and said, "Did you hear me playing?"

 

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