Dragonsphere (The Fallen King Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Fierce

  The men wore swords at their hips, but they did not wear any armor. They wore some sort of shiny clothing that looked like silver, yet it was obviously made of cloth. They also wore red capes that stretched from their shoulders down to within a few inches of the ground. One man, whom Calderon assumed was a captain of some sort, wore a blue cape. “Reason for entry?” one of the guards asked without looking at them. He was holding up what appeared to be a crystal. “We are looking for a place to stay the night,” Donovan said, looking intently at the man wearing the blue cape. The crystal began to glow a light red. The guard holding it looked up at them. “He’s lying,” the man said.

  The man wearing the blue cape stepped forward and surprised them all. “Donovan?” he questioned, tilting his head slightly. “I would recognize that face no matter how long I had not seen it. It’s been too long, old friend!” Calderon and Erasen were greatly confused, and Velkyn seemed to be off in his own world. Donovan, however, knew that he would not be able to hide things much longer.

  “Indeed it has, Anton. I come bearing some ill news, I fear.” Anton held his hand up. “Not here. Come, we will set you up at the keep. Who are your friends?” Donovan pointed to Velkyn and Calderon. “These are my fellows from the abbey, and this man” he pointed at Erasen, “is Erasen, a priest from the Five Islands.” His tone made the last part sound like a question more than a statement. Anton nodded and motioned them to follow him. “When the last of the people are in, close the gates,” Anton ordered the two guards.

  They followed Anton inside the walled city. “What is all this?” Donovan asked, nodding to indicate the guards. “These are dark days,” Anton said ominously. “Many things have changed, most of them recently.” Anton would say no more, even though Donovan prodded him the entire way. The city was massive in terms of size. It had grown to capacity within the protection of the walls, and so to continue building, they began adding second, and in some places, third stories to the existing buildings. As it was the end of the day, people had begun cooking and they could smell many different scents in the air, all of them mouth-watering.

  Anton led them through the city until they finally reached an imposing structure. It was different than any of the other buildings they had passed, and it was definitely the largest in the city. There were no guards posted at the gates of this building. Anton led them inside. There was a small girl waiting in the antechamber that served as a waiting room. “Take our guests to the dining area. I will be there shortly.” The girl bowed to Anton and began walking towards one of the doors. “Don’t let her appearance fool you,” Anton warned them. “She is not what she seems.”

  The girl turned back and smiled wickedly. Calderon could feel the hairs on his neck raise. “What is she?” he whispered aloud. Anton looked at the young monk and smiled. “A succubus.” Calderon didn’t recognize the term but it didn’t sound good. They all reluctantly followed her anyway. Donovan hung back until they were gone and turned his attention back to Anton. “What is going on?” he demanded.

  Anton’s face took on a more somber look. “There are rumors of war,” he said. Donovan shook his head. “Oakvalor and Talvaard have been at war for years.” Anton looked around and lowered his voice, as if someone might hear him although no one was in the room. “I am not talking about that war. Although, we do have reports that the young prince of Talvaard killed his brother and the daughter of Elkanah, Oakvalor’s king.” Donovan nodded to confirm the story. “I was there. I saw the entire thing myself.”

  Anton shook his head. “The newest word is that Talvaard’s armies march toward Oakvalor as we speak.” Donovan seemed confused. “We traveled the main road to get here,” Donovan said. “I saw no signs of any army.” Anton nodded. “I hear they are slow moving. There is also rumor that they don’t want to march, but the new king demands it. There is worse news still,” he said, lowering his voice even lower. “Orlek has taken a new body.” Donovan laughed at his old friend. “Don’t tell me you believe that crazy priest’s stories?” he said. Anton didn’t laugh. “You have been to the Chapel of Hermiston?” he asked. Donovan nodded. “Then I trust you see the truth of the word of Lord Aio. You have been gone a long time, Donovan. You left when we were young and adventurous, but many things have happened here since you left.”

  Donovan stared at Anton. The two of them had grown up together, studying the art of magic right here in Palindrom. Donovan saw his friend had aged better than he had. While Donovan had spent his years behind the walls of a monastery, Anton had spent his days training as a warrior-mage. Adept at wielding a sword just as much as magic, a warrior-mage trained for many years to attain the perfect balance between the two skills. Donovan had been sent by the leader of Palindrom to ensure the safety of the sphere. They had made many attempts to have the sphere brought into the care of the wizards, but the monks of the abbey had declined every time. Anton’s hair was once brown but had been lightened considerably from his many days in the sun. His skin was a deep tan color, and his body was thin and muscular. Though they had studied together, Anton was ten years younger than Donovan.

  “Erasen told me about this supposed Aio. Is there really truth to this?” Anton nodded his head. “There were whispers of this new faith when we were young, but that’s all it was; whispers. Turns out there was much truth to the whispers.”

  The door of the front entrance flung open and a young man rushed inside. Both Anton and Donovan turned to see who was barging in. The man quickly bowed to Anton and held up a letter. “Jovanna?” Anton asked hopefully. The man shook his head. “No, Captain. Worse!” Anton held up his hand to silence the messenger. He turned to Donovan and smiled. “I’ll meet you in the dining room shortly. I have some things to attend to. I won’t be long.” Donovan hesitated. “Who is Jovanna?” he asked. Anton shook his head. “No one to concern yourself with,” he answered curtly. They stood in silence for a moment before Donovan finally left. Anton took the letter from the messenger and read it. He lowered the missive and stared off, then reread it. “Has this been verified?” he asked.

  “Yes, Captain. I came as soon as I could. Everything you read is true … all those people … what do we do?” Anton knew this was beyond anything he had experienced, beyond anything anyone here had experienced. Except for him. “Take this to Cygnus at once. He will know what to do.”

  The messenger took the letter back and rushed off. Anton had seen many things, and had heard many stranger things. This was not strange. It was pure evil, and he knew that Orlek’s hand was behind it. When he felt he had composed himself, he joined the others in the dining room. They were all seated and eating quietly. All three monks and the priest regarded him with interest as he took his seat. The young girl set a plate of steaming food before him and moved off into the shadows. Several torches lined each wall every four feet, except for the corners of the room where darkness remained. Anton ate his food absently.

  Donovan had had enough. “Anton, I know I have been gone for a very long time, but that does not excuse you from keeping me involved in the dealings of our order. What in the Abyss is going on?” he ended his shout by slamming his fist onto the table. Everyone looked at the old man, startled. Even Velkyn, who had been in some sort of trance looked up. Anton stared at him from across the table, but not in anger. “A storm has wiped out the Five Islands.”

  Erasen gasped, or would have had his mouth not been full of food, and he choked and began coughing. Calderon and Velkyn didn’t understand the implications of it, and Donovan fell back speechless in his chair. “The report tells of a strange storm that battered the Islands and destroyed everything. They don’t think anyone could have survived. The ocean is littered with debris, but most of it is floating bodies …” Anton’s words died as he imagined the horrific scene. “Something isn’t right,” Donovan said shakily. “Storms hit the Islands often. What do you mean a strange storm?”

  Anton shrugged his shoulders. “I do not know. Witnesses on the coast said it was not like an
y storm they had ever seen. I suspect there was magic involved in this. Though whether it is Orlek or Jovanna, it is yet to be seen.”

  Donovan leaned forward. “Who is Jovanna?” he questioned Anton for the second time. Anton rubbed his hands over his face and he suddenly seemed much older. Heaving a great sigh, he answered the question. “Jovanna was an orphan that displayed obvious talent with magic. The people who took care of her brought her here to Palindrom to see if we could ‘help’ her.” Donovan made an exasperated noise. “I know,” said Anton, “I know. They didn’t understand that this was not something that could, or needed to be, fixed. We offered to take her into our care and they did not protest much. She was only six and she had taught herself to cast a fireball.”

  Donovan raised his eyebrows, obviously impressed. “Six? That’s incredible.” Anton nodded. “Cygnus said that with training she would rival even the famed skills of Palin himself.”

  “Cygnus is still alive?” Donovan asked, surprised. Anton nodded. “And hasn’t aged a day, it seems. Jovanna was an eager student, but she also had a dark side. There was an accident in the halls one night and several students were found dead, apparently burned alive. She was blamed and there were enough witnesses for Cygnus to pronounce punishment on her. She was given forty lashes minus one with the whip. That only seemed to fuel her anger.”

  “Burned alive with what?”

  “Magical flames.”

  Donovan looked skeptical. “The halls of housing are protected by anti-magic. How could she have cast magic so powerful that the anti-magic would not stop it?”

  “Exactly,” Anton said. “Cygnus tried to figure that out as well, but he could find nothing conclusive.”

  “She sounds dangerous.”

  “Exactly,” Anton said again. “We knew she was a liability waiting to happen. By the time we had enough evidence of her breaking the wizards code, she could not be found. She abandoned Palindrom and we have yet to find her. She is very powerful. Powerful enough to hide from scrying stones,” he added, referring to the stones they used to see over vast distances.

  “Perhaps it is a good thing she is gone?” Donovan suggested. Anton shook his head. “There is nothing good about that one. She craves power, and will do anything to have it. We fear she seeks the sphere.”

  Donovan looked down. “That is the ill news I bring. The creature has escaped.” Anton sputtered. “What do you mean it escaped? How? You were ordered to protect it with life and limb!”

  “I did!” Donovan shot back. “For most of my life I have kept it safe. But something happened. The magic must have weakened and failed. I believe it escaped during the coronation in Talvaarin.”

  Anton digested the words. “Where is the creature now? And where is the sphere?” Donovan pointed toward Calderon. “The sphere is safe in his bag. But as to the location of the creature, I do not know. That is why we are here. We need to use the Hall of Mirrors.”

  “Out of the question,” Anton replied. “The danger is too great.”

  “I know it is dangerous, but that does not negate the fact that we must use it to find the creature. You must know this.”

  “You misunderstand me,” Anton said. “Jovanna tampered with the magic of the mirrors. If she were to find out that the creature is not bound in the sphere, she would surely use that knowledge against us. She is a formidable foe, and we are already pressed with Talvaard threatening invasion at our door and Orlek with his orcish hordes preparing in the mountains. Oakvalor is surrounded by enemies and now the priests of Aio lie dead in the ocean. We cannot risk it.”

  Donovan knew Anton’s words were not merely spoken in frustration. The embers of a war unlike any other were heating up, and soon a raging inferno would spread across the land. “We cannot afford the risk of the dragon gaining his body back. Where are his bones?”

  “They decorate the king’s war machines.”

  Donovan remained silent in thought. “Perhaps they are safe there. I need to use the mirrors,” he said with a tone of finality.

  “That is unlikely to happen,” Anton responded. “Cygnus has forbade any use of them.” Donovan felt helpless. He had to find a way to use the Hall of Mirrors. “Then what do we do?”

  “That, gentlemen, is the question.” Everyone at the table turned to see Cygnus standing in the doorway.

  “One who cannot trust themselves can never truly trust anyone else.”

  - Jovanna

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jovanna had learned long ago to trust no one. Her own parents had abandoned her when she was four, scared of what their daughter might be. She had scrounged in the trash heaps of the town, fighting with rats and other vermin to simply stay alive. When the local orphanage took her in, they soon began treating her like her parents did. Jovanna knew now that it was fear that caused people to act the way they did toward her. Fear of the unknown often caused people to treat others differently.

  She knew she was different. Even when she was four, she knew she was not like other children. Not like anyone, regardless of age. But when she had been brought to Palindrom, she felt like she finally belonged. The people there were more like her than anyone she had encountered before. They could summon fire like she could, they could do things other people could not. And yet, as time went by, Jovanna realized even the wizards of Palindrom were not the same as her. She was different. She could ‘see’ the magic. No one, not even the half-blood Cygnus, could do that. And so, some of them treated her differently, just like everyone else in her life. She grit her teeth in anger at the memories.

  They had given her knowledge to control the gift, true, but they could not wield the magic as she could. She had been laying in her bed trying to sleep one night when she realized something. There was nothing wrong with her. There was something wrong with everyone else. She was above them, had been given a gift that no one could fathom. She had learned when she was young that in order to get what you needed, you had to take it. No one was going to help you and certainly no one cared.

  And with that thinking, she also decided that since she was above everyone, she needed to rule over them. Why have the power and not use it? But she was only one person. She could not defeat everyone single handedly, even she knew that. But if she had someone or something to help her achieve her rise to power … and that thinking had led her to the decision to steal the sphere. No, not steal it. To take it. She was not a thief, she was a taker. A doer. She had left Palindrom because she knew they were going to try to stop her. She knew they were searching for her too. She could feel the emanations of the crystal magic, could feel the eyes searching, ever searching.

  If there was one thing she could do well, it was hide. She had to when she was younger. But soon, very soon, she would no longer have to hide. Jovanna smiled at that. Now that she had the sphere, she would release the dragon and use it as a tool to her ascension. The sun was rising and the sky was bathed in reds and oranges. She held the metal sphere up in the increasing sunlight and knew her time was at hand. She placed the sphere on the ground, using a few rocks to keep it from rolling around. Once she had bent both king and peasant to her will, she would seek out Orlek and destroy him as well. He was the only one that could stand against her, she was confident of that. The wizards had grown soft in their teachings. They had ceased to study the old books, to learn the old magic. She was different.

  She unsheathed her weapon, a light-weight, short-bladed sword. It was plain in decoration except for the hilt which was shaped like a dragon’s body. The pommel was the dragon’s head, its mouth stretched wide in a silent roar. The blade looked ordinary, yet it was anything but. She tilted her head to each side until it popped. Raising the sword, she brought it down hard onto the sphere’s surface. The sound of clanging metal rang out, and then a heavy thud. Her blade had cleaved right down the middle of the sphere and into the ground.

  She smirked. That was easier than she expected. She bent down to inspect the sphere and the smile left her face. The magic had
all but faded from the sphere. And the dragon’s spirit was not inside. She swore silently, sheathing her sword angrily. She had been so closeand now this!

  She forced herself to calm down. Anger would get her nowhere, despite how good it felt to be angry. She picked up the two halves of the sphere and stalked back to the building she was currently staying at. The door banged shut behind her and she slung the pieces into a leather bag. “Never send a man to do a job right,” she muttered. Julian had his uses though, she had to give him that. He was one of the first she had recruited into her cause. She had several spies in various places now, all of them reporting to her weekly.

  She knew that Talvaard’s armies were marching toward Oakvalor, but what she didn’t know was why. The kingdoms had been at war for hundreds of years, but no actual fighting had happened in quite a long time. She pondered that, along with all the other information delivered to her of late. A knock at her door drew her from her contemplation. “What is it?” she demanded, expecting it to be the young man who had been following her around lately. He was infatuated with her but the feelings were one sided. She needed a man as much as she needed a dog; the upside being that a dog licked itself.

  She was surprised to hear Julian’s voice on the other side of the door. “Come in,” she instructed. The door swung open and Julian sauntered in. “All goes well, my lady.” He halted suddenly, her gaze cutting through him like a pair of daggers. “Where did you get the sphere?” she questioned.