Omensent: Wrath of a Dragon God

by Barry Gibbons

  "He will meet your king in battle," Jarom declared with a flourish towards the huge warrior. "and King Mika the Cruel will finally taste defeat."

  The Teirsian started to chuckle, but the chuckle quickly died when he looked to the huge warrior mounted atop the massive prancing warhorse. "You're planning to challenge King Mika to combat?" The man asked Damion in disbelief. "But he only will only accept challengers willing to fight to the death!"

  Everyone looked to the huge warrior, their eyes wide in apprehension.

  Damion merely glared at the Teirsian soldier with deadly eyes.

  The soldier gulped audibly, then gestured for his men to stand aside. "Leave your horses here, then follow the corridor until you reach the great bronze doors. Speak with Grediff, the battle master. Inform him of your dispute, and then he will announce you when it's time for you to make your challenge." He gave Damion a dubious look. "Good luck, milord. King Mika is the fiercest warrior in all of Teirsia. He has never been defeated in battle. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

  "So do I." Sly growled sourly.

  They left their horses with the Teirsian soldiers, then made their way down the enormous corridor that led deep within the huge arena. They passed several large rooms filled with Teirsian warriors who were busy training to be combatants in the massive coliseum, and a number of other passageways leading to different areas of the palace, but they continued as instructed, following the huge hallway until they finally reached an enormous set of elaborately engraved bronze doors guarded by a pair of soldiers dressed in ceremonial armor.

  "Are you Grediff," Sly asked an older man with silver hair and a heavily scarred face, who stepped forward to meet them with a stern expression. "the arena's battle master?"

  "I am. What is your business here?" He asked in a gravelly tone, staring at the companions with hard eyes.

  "Our lord wishes to issue a challenge." Jarom and Jacom told the old man in unison.

  The older man gave the huge warrior an unimpressed sniff. "And who does your... lord wish to challenge?"

  "The King of the Teirsia," Raven declared proudly, stepping up to stand next to her husband. "Mika the Cruel."

  Grediff's jaw dropped open in surprise. "You wish to challenge King Mika to battle?" He asked Damion, shaking his head in disbelief. "You realize he has never been bested in battle, and will only accept challenges to battle to the death."

  Damion nodded. "I understand."

  The gruff old man stared at the huge warrior for several long seconds, then stepped up close, his eyes locked on Damion's. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, son?" He asked in a fatherly tone. "Mika is one of the deadliest men I have ever seen, and that's saying a lot."

  Damion nodded regretfully. "I haven't any choice in the matter." He murmured in a grim voice.

  Grediff stared up at him for another long moment, then turned to one of the soldiers guarding the great bronze doors and rattled something to the man in a strange, unfamiliar dialect.

  The soldier flinched, and turned to stare at Damion, his eyes wide with trepidation, then he hurried off along an adjoining corridor.

  "He is going to alert the king of your challenge." The old man explained to them in a tense voice. "Once he has prepared himself, I shall enter the arena, and announce the challenge. The king will undoubtedly accept, and then will make his way into the arena." He rolled his eyes. "Mika always insists on being the first combatant to be announced. He will take his place, then these doors will open," He gestured to the massive bronze doors. "you will be announced, and your challenge formerly issued." His expression grew curious. "Who will be your voice? They we be the one who announces you, and issues your challenge to Mika."

  "That will be me." Damarius announced firmly, brushing his brow lock from his eyes, and drawing himself up proudly.

  Grediff nodded approvingly. "Then the rest of you will have to watch the battle from one of the balconies." He made a curt gesture to the other soldier guarding the giant bronze doors. "Follow him. He will lead you to a suitable viewing platform."

  They each took a moment to wish Damion luck, then they all stepped aside to give Raven a chance to be alone with her husband.

  "Are you sure that you want to do this?" Raven asked him in a quiet voice.

  "I haven't any other choice." He murmured to her, his expression one of determination. "We need the Teirsians to help search the city before we move off into the highlands. Defeating Mika is our only chance." He smiled down at her lovingly. "You're not afraid he may win, now are you?"

  The young woman snorted, and rolled her eyes. "Someone defeat my husband?" She laughed, then threw her arms around her husband. "Just be careful, and make it quick. We don't have all day, you know."

  Damion chuckled, then bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.

  They watched as the others were led away to observe the upcoming battle, then the scarred old man turned to stare at Damion and Damarius with serious eyes. "I hope you know what you're doing, son. It'll take a special warrior to defeat Mika." He glanced around to make sure they were alone. "Would you be open to a bit of advise?"

  The huge warrior shrugged. "Of course."

  "Don't let Mika's size deceive you. He's wicked quick, and likes to fight with a heavy battle axe that he wields like it was a child's toy, but whenever he gets into trouble, he always falls back on a dagger which he keeps hidden in the small of his back. It has been coated in poison. One nick from this dagger and you'll stiffen up like a plank, making for an easy kill." He smiled smugly. "He thinks no one else knows about the poison, but he'll not fool me!"

  "Why are you revealing this to us?" Damarius asked in confusion. "Aren't you concerned for your king's safety?"

  "Mika is no king." Grediff snorted in derision. "A king rules over his people with a stern, but fair hand. Mika is nothing more than a filthy cutthroat. He cares nothing for the welfare of his people. They don't call him Mika the Cruel for nothing." He frowned. "Unfortunately, he's also a fearsome warrior. He's killed dozens of warriors who have challenged him for the right to rule Teirsia, but he has managed to overcome them all."

  One of the soldiers that had been guarding the bronze doors returned and murmured something to Grediff, who nodded grimly. He turned to look at Damion. "Mika has accepted your challenge, son. I hope you're ready for this." He gestured for Damarius to follow, then he and the old wizard disappeared through a tiny doorway built into the wall next to the massive bronze doors.

  He waited in silence for several long moments, preparing himself for what was to come. He really didn't want to take the time to face this so-called king, but he saw no other option. It would take him weeks, maybe months to search the entire city, time that they didn't have to spare, not without giving the witch a chance to escape with Leia into the highlands. He knew that this was the only way to secure the cooperation of the Teirsian people.

  A deep rumbling suddenly began somewhere in the distance, faintly at first, then slowly building into dull roar. The entire arena around them began to vibrate, and the great bronze doors began to hum with the vibration.

  "It sounds like King Mika had entered the arena." The soldier told the huge warrior nervously.

  A deep grinding suddenly pierced the air, and the two great bronze doors slowly began to open.

  "They are about to announce you." The soldier gulped dubiously. "Good luck, milord."

  Damarius's voice boomed out over the roar of the crowd, amplified, Damion had no doubt, by the old wizard's magic in an effort to be heard by every person in the crowd. "Good people of Teir," He started, his voice trembling with excitement. "I have the distinct privilege of introducing the man who will challenge your king."

  Damion slowly walked through the massive bronze doors, and out into the massive open air coliseum.

  The battle arena proved to be little more than one giant open air square surrounded on all sides by seating and viewing platforms. Thousands of people were packed togethe
r, shoulder to shoulder, eager to see the next combatants as they clashed. Many cheered as they caught sight of him entering, while others glared down at him with suspicious, unfriendly eyes.

  He looked around as he slowly made his way out to the center of the square, and spotted Damarius standing with Grediff on a platform high above the battlefield. The old wizard had changed into a gleaming white robe, and had retrieved his elaborate crystal topped staff, and now stood next to the battle master striking extravagant poses as he introduced Damion.

  The huge warrior spotted the others on another nearby platform, watching nervously as he made his way to the center of arena.

  He stopped when he reached the center of the battlefield, and stared across the open square at his quarry, while Damarius continued to heap praise upon him in an effort to impress the crowd.

  King Mika was a huge bull of a man, with a short cropped beard, and the physique of someone who had once been powerfully muscled, but those muscles had long gone soft from inactivity. He wore a heavy plate armor that had been trimmed in gold, and burnished until it shined. His helm matched his armor, and had an elaborate golden crown mounted above the visor. A massive shield was strapped tightly to one of the king's arms, and he carried a huge battleaxe lightly in one hand.

  He stared back across the field at Damion, an arrogant sneer plastered across his bearded face.

  "Ladies and gentlemen of Teir," Damarius declared extravagantly, finally coming to the end of his long winded introduction. "it is my honor to introduce to you, Damion Omensent, Protector of Sevria, known to most by the name," He paused dramatically, flashing the huge warrior an impish grin. "the Dragon Lord!"

  The entire coliseum suddenly fell dead silent.

  Damion looked up at the old wizard sourly, then turned back to his opponent, whose jaw had dropped open in shock.

  "This will be a fight to the death!" Grediff roared, striking a huge bronze gong that had been erected in the center of the platform. "Let the battle commence!"

  ************

  "This sitting around, waiting to hear news of what's happening is beginning to grow unbearable." Shirk growled, sitting back in the oversized chair behind Damion's desk and rubbing his eyes wearily. "I don't have the temperament that it requires. I'm not a very patient person."

  As was customary, they had gathered together in Damion's office, where they held all of their meetings, ate all of their meals, and conducted the day to day business of running the castle.

  "Waiting is never easy." Gwynth murmured in a quiet voice. "I've spent almost my entire existence waiting." She smiled sadly. "Being an immortal messenger for the gods may sound nice, but it's actually quite boring. I have often gone hundreds of years without delivering the words of a god to the mortal world. During those times there is really nothing for me to do but watch, and wait."

  Lady Skie had invited the legendary figure to linger with them for as long as she liked after Gwynth had appeared to them weeks before, and to everyone's surprise, she had happily accepted. Since that day, the elderly woman had remained with them in Sevria, seeming to take great pleasure in their company.

  "Is that why you have chosen to remain here with us?" Dar asked curiously from his seat across the large table.

  "In part." Gwynth admitted. "I miss the companionship," She took a sip from her goblet of wine. "not to mention the food and drink."

  "What is the other reason you have stayed?" Lady Skie inquired.

  "I have the feeling my work here is not yet complete." The old woman replied mysteriously. "I figured since I was going to be needed here anyway, I would linger for a time, and enjoy some of those simple pleasures that are denied me otherwise."

  "What other work would you have?" Shirk yawned inquisitively. "More messages from the gods?"

  "Possibly." Gwynth shrugged. "That will all ultimately come down to Damion."

  They all looked at the strange old woman with interest.

  The old woman raised one hand to ward off their questions. "Before you ask, no, I have no idea where he is now right now, nor what he may be doing. As long as I remain here in the mortal world, I am cut off from seeing what is happening elsewhere, unless, of course, I get a message from a god to update me on recent events."

  They all looked crestfallen.

  "What is it like speaking to god?" Dar asked the old woman curiously.

  Gwynth shrugged. "It depends on the god. Some gods are quite pleasant to communicate with, while others are quite horrid. Triton, for example, is the god of war, and therefore thrives upon blood and carnage. It can be quite horrible having to deal with Him. Ele, the moon goddess, on the other hand, is always a pleasure to speak with."

  "What about Estheryal? What is She like?"

  The old woman smiled, causing the many wrinkles on her face to deepen dramatically. "She is actually rather wonderful. She is a very motherly sort, you know. She cares very much for Her children here in the mortal world."

  The freckle faced sprite frowned. "And Draco?"

  "Draco," The elderly woman started with a sigh. "isn't really that bad. He is a little stern and unyielding, and very stubborn, but He is not evil at heart. He has reasons for what He does, although sometimes those reasons can be obscure."

  "If Draco isn't evil," Shirk scowled. "then why did He have that witch abduct Leia?"

  "Draco actually didn't choose the highland witch." The elderly woman sighed, taking another sip from her wine goblet. "It was the elder spirits that decided to use a her to fulfill the dragon god's request. From what I gather, He is quite unhappy with their choice."

  "He's not the only one." The pot bellied man grunted sourly.

  "The dragon god couldn't trust any of His children to abduct little Leia." Gwynth explained. "The scarlet dragons are still being controlled by the Dragon Sword, and would surely destroy any shadow dragon that decided to emerge from hiding. The dragonspawn and shadowspawn are even more unreliable. Besides the fact they are terrified of Damion, they're complete savages. I'm not sure they're even intelligent to understand such an act."

  "You may be surprised." Lady Skie told her dubiously. "Slither is quite intelligent. He has been invaluable to us in helping keep the dragonspawn in check. Since he pledged himself to Damion, not a single attack has happened along the caravan route."

  The old woman looked surprised. "Really? Image that!" She shrugged dismissively. "Since Draco couldn't trust any of His children," She continued. "He was forced to rely upon the elder spirits." She made a face. "The elder spirits are a cantankerous lot. They have no need for worshippers, but will occasionally grant powers to those who beseech them. They are especially fond of the highland witches. I suspect that they granted the witch who abducted Leia nearly unlimited power to accomplish her task."

  "I hope that Damion understands exactly who he's up against." Lady Skie murmured worriedly. "If the witch is as powerful as you say she is, he'll need to be cautious."

  "The Dragon Lord is quite aware of her capabilities." Gwynth assured her gently. "He has already seen a number of demonstrations of her power."

  "So," Dar started, his tiny face worried. "what are the chances they will succeed in rescuing Leia?"

  The old woman frowned. "The odds are always against mortals when it comes to defying a god," She suddenly smiled. "but that changes when it comes to dealing with Damion." She looked genuinely amused. "He is unlike any other mortal that has ever existed. He's not only immensely powerful, he seems to be completely unpredictable." She chuckled. "He makes the gods quite nervous. Most mortals have a preordained fates. Destiny has a clear purpose for them, and that path can be seen by the gods. Damion, on the other hand, has no defined path. He is moving outside of destiny, forging his own fate, and therefore, the gods cannot predict his next move. That makes them very nervous."

  "So we all have a preordained destiny?" Shirk asked, his eyes haunted.

  The old woman shook her head. "Not all mortals, not anymore. Damion doesn't have a preordained des
tiny, and the fate of almost every person that he encounters is changed unalterably, just by coming into contact with him. The gods are not able to see their new paths, and that makes them very uneasy."

  "I can see why that would bother them." Dar agreed. "If Damion is unknowingly altering people's destinies, it could throw off the balance of the universe."

  "Not quite," The old woman shook her head in disagreement. "He may alter their destiny, but the universe will correct itself. It will not allow itself to be thrown off balance. If someone's fate is altered to a point that they cannot accomplish what destiny had in store for them, the universe merely shifts that fate to the next mortal best suited for whatever task it had." Her gaze suddenly grew distant. "There once was a time that the gods forged the destinies for their mortal children, but when they withdrew from this world, they allowed destiny to take over. The only way they can really keep watch over their worshippers is by following the paths that fate has laid before them."