“If you want to know the secrets of the earth you must ask it. And, if you want the earth to answer you, you must prove yourself worthy of such knowledge,” the godling answered cryptically.
Drakthira didn’t reply, but regarded the godling out of the corner of her eye. She saw the little stickman, the only other thing moving in the Grove, walk over to the godling and sit beside it.
And the staff you gave Jessa? Did the earth tell you to do that as well?
The godling’s face clouded over and for a moment ‘Thira wondered if it would attack her. After a few minutes, however, it seemed to bring itself back under control and merely sighed in frustration.
“Come. I will release your friends. Please tell them to leave the other creatures alone, they will not attack again. Then we can discuss the staff,” he said, rising.
Wait, Drakthira said, looking around. Why am I not frozen like the others?
The godling barked out a short laugh, then shrugged. “Dragons are different,” he said. “No being has power over them, not me, not the Myste, not anything. You live on a different plane that simply overlaps this one, but is still removed. No one really knows why, but the Creator must have wanted it that way.”
He nodded toward the unicorn and said, “Unicorns are magical creatures, as is the phoenix. Much like dragons, but dragons are more sentient, possessing a noble spirit, great intelligence, and the ability to recognize the same traits in other lifeforms. Unicorns are also very intelligent and noble, but think of them more as nature incarnate. They are fiercely loyal to the earth, but also very wild, driven more by instinct. They love, but they are incapable of empathy. They would never be able to bond with another creature.”
He pointed toward the phoenix. “Same for the phoenix, although it’s driven more by an all-consuming passion. Fire suits its nature. Everything a phoenix does, it does out of a consuming need to do so. To mate. To fight. To live, and even to die. It has no room in its nature for compassion.”
He snapped his fingers and all seemed to be restored to their pre-petrified state. To the others in the Grove, the last thing they remembered happening was hearing the godling shout “STOP!” and all eyes turned his way. By their collective looks of confusion, they didn’t understand why he was no longer where he had been when they had been rendered immobile.
Unperturbed, the godling walked to the unicorn and rested a hand on its neck. “Go, my friend,” he said, stroking it gently. “There is nothing more to do here.”
The unicorn reared up on its hind legs and pawed at the air, snorting, before turning and disappearing into the brush. The phoenix, finding itself no longer pinned to the ground, also took to the air and flew away until the party couldn’t distinguish it from the sunlight.
“Now,” said the godling, “let’s talk.”
The godling took a seat on the ground and gestured for the group to do the same. The party hesitated, still unsure exactly what had transpired, until Dax walked purposefully forward and seated himself in front of the godling. The others did the same, forming a small semi-circle around the strange creature.
“So,” the godling began when no one else spoke up, “your dragon friend here tells me you are here about the staff Jessa Dragonheart took from me.”
“Took from you?” Dax asked. “How did she take it from you?”
“To understand that you would have to understand the world of Darkenfel, and that is not my story to tell. Her secrets are her own.”
Trakon spoke up and said, “I’m sorry, Mr…?”
The godling laughed, his face currently looking like that of a feline and the laugh sounding more like a cross between a purr and a growl. “You can call me Aarlian.”
“Ok, Aarlian,” Trakon began again, “we are on a quest to free the captive dragons Jessa Dragonheart has trapped within an Orb. We sought you out for help having realized the staff she possessed had come from a godling tree, but instead of helping us, you first try to kill me, have your various friends attack us, and now refuse to talk to us, citing you would be sharing some sort of secret of the earth. What, exactly, can you tell us?” he finished in a huff.
Aarlian had the decency to look ashamed and answered the old man. “I’m sorry about your less than warm welcome. You broke through the barrier meant to keep out intruders, and I was fast asleep when it happened. Fortunately I awoke when I did, before blood was spilled in the sacred Grove, but I admit, my golem did take things a bit too far.” He looked over at the stickman as he said this, who hung its head in shame.
“But we did spill blood,” Trakon said. “Sylas killed the spider.”
“Oh, yes, but the spider was made of magic, and wasn’t truly alive. Besides,” the godling added, “magic never truly dies, it’s merely transformed into a different sort of energy.”
“So how can we learn about Jessa and the staff?” Dax asked, bringing everyone back to the reason they were here in the first place.
“First you must understand Darkenfel and the creatures in it. What they are, what their purpose is, and how they fit in the greater scheme of things. That includes each of you,” he said, holding up a hand to silence Dax when he tried to interrupt. “Yes, young man, I know it sounds like a lot of rubbish to you. You think you already know all of this simply because you are two people who became one. Two perspectives, one person.”
Aarlian laughed, this time his face looked like that of a ram and it came out sounding like a bleat. “Most creatures simply can’t look outside themselves to know where they fit. They hold themselves in such high esteem they can’t imagine a world without them. It’s very few, in fact, who can handle the truth of existence and come away unchanged.”
“So you are saying we would have a hard time understanding how vastly unimportant we are in the greater scheme of things?” Dax asked to clarify.
“Oh, no, not at all,” said Aarlian. “It takes but a single person to change the course of destiny. That should be apparent. Just look at Jessa.”
Dax sighed in frustration, feeling like they were talking in circles. “So, what exactly do I have to do to find out more about Jessa and how she came into possession of your staff?” he asked, enunciating clearly.
“The earth can grant you the knowledge that you seek, but it will ask for knowledge in return. Answer truthfully, and you will be granted the wisdom that you seek. Deceive yourself or each other, and you may never be freed from its grasp.”
“What does that even mean?” Dax asked. “Why would I deceive myself?”
When Aarlian didn’t answer, Dax asked, “So how do we start?”
“First,” the godling began, “you must prove your worth to the earth by answering a question. Look deep within yourselves for the answer, and do not lie. If the earth accepts your answer, this,” he gestured to a flat rock sitting before him that Dax was sure hadn’t been there before, “will open up and you will be allowed to drink of the earth’s blood.”
“As appetizing as that sounds,” Trakon said, his face reflecting his disgust at drinking anything’s blood, “why does the earth care about our answers?”
“You’re to be its heroes, are you not?” Aarlian asked, looking each of them in the eye. “Isn’t that truly what this is about? Freeing the dragons, bringing magic back to Darkenfel? Reuniting Daegonlot?”
How do you know this, godling? Drakthira asked.
“The earth’s secrets may be its own, but no secrets are hidden from it,” Aarlian answered.
Is the ‘earth’ as you call it, the Creator?
The godling paused before answering. “I honestly don’t know. But it is alive, and very powerful. All life comes from the earth, and all magic, no matter its form. In death, we return to the earth’s embrace. We hide no secrets from it.”
Drakthira regarded the godling for a long moment. Finally, she said, How does this work exactly?
“There are four of you, so four questions will be answered. I don’t know what you will see, nor will I be privy to what you exp
erience,” Aarlian explained.
“Will we get to go together?” Dax asked.
“I don’t know that either,” Aarlian said. “This isn’t like you are thinking, where the earth is a wholly sentient being. It’s lived as long as any of us, and our ancestors before, back to the dawn of time. Our lifetime is but a moment to such a being. Just think of it as living… slower. It has seen the mountains push themselves into the sky, the seasons change, and the lakes run dry. Yet, it has also witnessed the birth of millions of creatures, from the noble dragons to the lowly field mouse, and remembered them all. Their life. Their death. And everything in between.”
Dax and Trakon looked at each other, uncertainty clear on their faces. The idea of being trapped by a semi-sentient god-like being didn’t appeal to either of them. Trakon didn’t doubt a word the godling said. Having the ability to channel earth magic, he knew firsthand the sheer amount of power hidden in the earth the further from the surface you went. He had never tapped into the magical energy there; it felt too powerful for his body to handle. Too unstable. Too alive.
I will go first, Drakthira said, surprising both Dax and Trakon. Ask me what you will, godling.
Chapter Three
What is history but a fable agreed upon?
~ Napoleon Bonaparte
Aarlian regarded Drakthira for a long moment. He appeared to be listening to something no one else in the party could hear. Dax was beginning to get restless and was half convinced this was all a trick of some sort when the godling’s eyes began to glow with a strange, white light. The pupils and irises completely disappeared, until the eyes themselves were entirely white and luminescent. From the depths of its being came an unnaturally slow, gravelly voice, “DRAKTHIRA,” it boomed out, “DAUGHTER OF THE SKIES AND THE GREAT ONYX DRAOGATHRA. WHAT IS THE HEAVIEST BURDEN YOU CARRY IN YOUR HEART?”
‘Thira was slightly taken aback by the use of her mother’s name, but was not surprised. She had believed the godling when it said there were no secrets from the earth. From the corner of her eye, she saw Dax, Trakon and Sylas turn their heads to hear her answer. She knew her answer already, but was reluctant to speak it aloud for fear of the hurt it might bring her bond-mate. Although they were bonded, there were things that each of them was bound to keep to themselves in order to prevent the other from having hard feelings over things they simply couldn’t change. She had expected a different question, something like ‘what is your biggest fear’ or some other type of common cliché, and was therefore disappointed by her own short-sightedness. Although unwilling, she knew she would answer, and she just hoped Dax would understand.
She looked the being in its milky white eyes and in a voice strong and clear said, I know my mother, in her darkest hour and unsure if she would live much longer, used the last of her strength to give me the best chance she possibly could to live. I know from the transference of memories when I was still in my shell she had lived her entire life wild and free, and I know she wanted the same for me. Instead, I chose to stay on Daegonlot, mostly out of necessity as I am still a young dragon. But, now, I choose to stay with Daxon, bonded to him, and in doing so I feel I am betraying my mother’s last efforts. Now that I am bonded to a rider, I am no longer considered free or wild and I must adhere to the dragonrider’s codes. By bonding, I became the very thing my mother didn’t want, the thing she despised. I became tame.
The eerie white eyes held hers for a moment more before the voice spoke again.
“DRAKTHIRA, DRAGON OF ONYX AND AMETHYST, YOU HAVE ANSWERED TRUTHFULLY, BUT KNOW THIS: NO CREATURE GREAT OR SMALL BECOMES SOMETHING ELSE BASED PURELY ON ANOTHER’S PERCEPTION OF REALITY. YOU MAY DRINK OF ME AND IN DOING SO, SHARE MY KNOWLEDGE.”
The rock before the godling split with a loud crack! and revealed a small puddle of blood-like fluid.
Filing the message away for future reflection, Drakthira stepped forward and lowered her head to drink from the ruby red substance inside the rock. Almost immediately she began to feel dizzy and her eyes became increasingly heavy. The world around her spun, and in a haze she saw the bright sunlight flash by her, replaced by a complete, inky darkness, before returning to the sunlight once more. This cycle repeated over and over, giving her a feeling of falling and spinning at the same time.
After what seemed like hours, the world stopped churning. She knew instinctively that she had been vaulted miles and miles below the earth’s surface, and she could see an immense wall of earth and rock above her. Her kind had spent a great portion of their lives sleeping in deep, mountain caves for eons, so she was not uncomfortable in these surroundings; however, she was curious as to how she had come to be there.
‘Thira found herself within a massive nondescript chamber with no tunnels. The chamber was empty save for a pool of white, molten lava. The heat radiating from the liquid was more than what she considered comfortable, but her scales were able to reflect a great portion of it away from her body, and she therefore felt no threat from it.
A large, grey hand emerged from the lava, startling her and causing her to jump back from the pool until her back was against the smooth, circular chamber wall. The hand was followed by another, then a head, shoulders, torso, and finally, legs emerged until Drakthira found herself looking at a great, grey stony creature standing well over twenty feet tall.
The creature continued its transformation by sloughing off the remaining lava, and now stood before Drakthira as a giant human-like form. As she watched in awe, moss appeared to grow down the lower part of the face, forming a beard-like growth. Two large diamonds, the size of a grown man’s fist, pushed through the rocky head appearing as eyes, and dirt began to cover the being’s nether regions. When the transformation was complete, the thing looked like a carving of an old man with heavy, blunt features.
Crudely formed lips jutted out from the rocky structure and it spoke its first words, “Welcome Drakthira.”
The voice was no longer amplified, but ‘Thira recognized it as the voice that had spoken to her from within the godling in the Grove. It had the same gravelly sound and timbre.
Greetings, Old One, she returned, bowing her head slightly.
“What have you come to ask me?” it inquired, the words slow and drawn out, sounding more like ‘whhhhhhhhhhhaaaat haaaaaaaaaave yooooooooooouuuuu cooooooooooooooome tooooooooooo aaaaaaaaassssssssskkkk mmmeeeeee?’
“Would you know how Daegonlot became separated from Darkenfel? Or perhaps you would like to know what happened to your mother after she left you in Goldspine?” it continued in the same slow, grating voice.
It is common knowledge that Daegonlot was separated from the mainland during the race wars, Drakthira said. When she had volunteered to go first, her plan had been to ask how to free the dragons from the Orb, but now her curiosity was piqued. What had happened to her mother? Was she still alive?
A sound like boulders rolling down a hill came from the being, and Drakthira realized after a moment it was laughing.
“The story of Daegonlot is much more than that, young dragon,” it said. “What race is strong enough to perform such a feat? Humans? Elves?” The sound of rolling boulders came again. Evidently this creature found itself highly amusing.
Then you are saying the story of Daegonlot is false, she said, making sure to say it as a statement and not a question. She remembered the godling telling her she would be allowed one question, and she didn’t want to waste it on something trivial.
“Many stories passed down through the generations are false. It’s one of the ways Darkenfel protects itself. Time,” it rambled, obviously getting caught up in the complexities only it seemed to understand, “the greatest illusion of all, yet also a reality. How it muddies the currents as it flows. The elves think the human mages and wizards are responsible for what happened. The humans blame the elves and dwarves, and the dwarves simply don’t remember or care. But, the dragons,” here it paused, briefly. “They are, perhaps, the ones that should really be blamed…”
Dr
akthira caught herself before blurting out, What do you mean? She instead remained silent, contemplating what she wanted to ask. She didn’t think the thing was lying to her, and reuniting Daegonlot was one of the tasks the Whisperwood had said needed to be done to save Darkenfel. Besides, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t curious why the dragons might be to blame. Had they separated Daegonlot?
She tried to think back over the memories her mother had of the event, and although she could see bits and pieces, they were fleeting glimpses and seemed faded. She realized with a start that although her mother had been alive during, and possibly present for, many of the events that led up to Daegonlot being ripped from Darkenfel, she didn’t know who or what had caused it to happen. Drakthira thought her mother had thought she knew, and that had been enough to keep her from digging any deeper into the memories, which were actually quite blurred and confusing, leaving ‘Thira with more questions than answers.
And what had the being said about her mother? More than anything Drakthira wanted to know if her mother was still alive. She thought if she were she would have tried to return to her daughter, but ‘Thira remembered her mother had been weak and senile when she left her egg to the dragonriders. Was she out there somewhere, lost and alone?
Or maybe she should stick to her original plan of asking how to free the dragons. That is what she and Dax had originally set out to do, and so far this was the only lead they had. She thought on it a moment, then wondered silently if she should instead ask how Jessa took the staff from the godling. That knowledge may prove crucial to undoing what Jessa had done.
Frustrated, but no closer to knowing what her one question should be, ‘Thira and the stone man regarded each other in silence for a long moment. She thought back to what the godling had said to them in the Grove; ‘The earth can grant you the knowledge that you pursue, but it will ask for knowledge in return. Answer truthfully, and you will be granted the wisdom that you seek. Deceive yourself or each other, and you may never be freed from its grasp.’
The Godling Staff_Book Three Page 3