Dragonsphere (The Fallen King Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Fierce

  “From the monks I told you about. They” In one swift movement she pinned him against the wall, drew her sword, and had the sharp blade pressed against his throat. “I know who you got it from, I said where?”

  Julian swallowed and a thin cut appeared on his neck. “The … uh, I found it in one of their b-bags in Dillenger. They seemed to be headed east before a couple of thugs robbed them. I don’t know where they were going, they seemed to be very private men.”

  Jovanna glared at him, but she knew he was telling the truth. He was smart enough to know better than to lie to her. She released him and straightened his shirt. “I find it interesting that the sphere is supposed to be guarded within the Abbey of the Divines, and yet these monks were strolling along the countryside with it in their bags. Why do you think that would be, Julian?”

  Julian wasn’t sure where she was going with this. “I can’t say I have a guess, my lady.”

  “Of course you don’t. You are a man, and men don’t seem to think much. The sphere is empty. The dragon is not bound within it anymore. Which means that it is roaming about somewhere. I need to find it.” She paced the length of the room, turned on her heel, then paced back the other way. She did this several times before she looked up and saw Julian still standing there, apparently not sure what he should be doing. She was about to yell at him but remembered one of the tasks she had given him. “What was the reaction of the people when you told them you were a wizard?”

  Julian smiled meekly. “They arrested me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Yet you stand here?” Julian nodded. “How?” she asked. “They realized that I was not really a wizard,” he answered. She snorted derisively. “If they will not welcome their new ruler willingly, then they will bow to their new ruler at the end of my blade. Get out of my sight,” she said scathingly. He bowed low and opened the door to leave. “Any new orders?” he asked hurriedly.

  “Stay alive,” she warned. Julian shut the door and scurried off. Jovanna continued her pacing. “Something happened,” she reasoned aloud. “Perhaps the monks released the dragon … no, that’s not right. They had it with them and they were traveling east.” She stopped her pacing. “East,” she repeated. Her face lit up with realization as she began to put the pieces together. “They are headed to Palindrom!” She whirled about and grabbed the bag containing the halves of the sphere.

  She would need to renew the magic and seal it back together, but it would work. “That’s why he ordered the invasion,” she breathed. “The creature wants its body back!” She would have to get close enough to the prince for the sphere to work its spell, but she was confident there would be many diversions to keep the beast occupied. She slung the bag over her shoulder and knelt down. She withdrew a small piece of chalk and traced a circle along the floorboards. She unsheathed her sword and ran her finger over the blade, cutting herself. Pressing her finger onto the top of the circle, she mixed her blood with the chalk, tracing over the chalk circle with her bleeding finger.

  When she finished, she scrutinized her work, ensuring there was no gaps in the circle. She stood up and prepared herself for the magical journey. She would have to locate the prince quickly. If the wizards knew she was near, she would be just as much a target as the possessed prince. She grit her teeth. This part always sucked. The floor opened up and swallowed her.

  “The Deadlands is a hostile place filled with the vilest of creatures.

  Most travelers have never returned.”

  - Cygnus

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Donovan stared at the leader of Palindrom. Anton was not lying when he said the man had not aged. Donovan remembered the man clearly from his early days here. Cygnus was tall, yet not overwhelmingly so. Standing nearly six feet, his body was lithe and his movements graceful. His hair reached midway down his back and remained a golden blonde color. There was no sign of wrinkles on his face and his eyes were as bright green as they had been the first time Donovan saw them.

  “It is good to see you again, Donovan. I did not think I would see you so soon, though. It has been, what, sixty years?” Donovan smiled. “At least,” he replied. “You haven’t changed a bit in all that time.”

  Cygnus returned the old monk’s smile. “I have changed, just not on the outside.” Calderon looked with incredulity from Cygnus, to Velkyn, then to Donovan, and finally to Anton and Erasen. Erasen seemed like Velkyn now, as he was in a deep silence and tears ran down his cheeks. Calderon had nearly forgotten that Erasen was from the Five Islands, the same Islands wiped out by the storm. The priest didn’t make eye contact and just stared blankly at the wall.

  Anton looked to the young monk. “Who is that?” he asked Anton. “That is Cygnus, the head of the order of wizards and has been for nearly two hundred years.”

  “Two hundred years? The man looks barely into his twenties.” Anton smiled at the ignorant monk. “Cygnus is a half blood. His mother was human, but his father was an elf from the Deadlands.” Calderon still looked confused. “The Deadlands is the land north of us. It is a dangerous place. Elves and many other races call the place their home. Cygnus’s mother was raped by an elf when her village was attacked by a raiding party. Cygnus is the product of that unfortunate union. It seems he favors more of the elf side, I think. Elves are long lived creatures, but they are evil. Cygnus is a credit to his race.”

  Calderon felt as though he had learned more about the world he lived in within the last couple of weeks than he had his entire life. Foreign lands, different races, the absolute evil that resided in mankind. It all seemed too much.

  Cygnus took a seat at the table. “The devastation to the Islands is surely the work of magic. We have yet to locate Jovanna, but the signs of Orlek’s impending invasion are obvious. The thing that baffles me is why Talvaard marches full force to our land.” Cygnus drummed his fingers on the table. “The loss of the tribes of the Aihi surely puts us at a disadvantage.” He looked to Erasen. The priest met his gaze. “I am truly sorry for your loss. If there is anything I can do, please do not hesitate. Our city is your home as long as you will it. From everything gathered, we suspect you are the only priest alive.” Cygnus paused to let his words soak into the young priest.

  “According to your customs, this would make you the new Lord Aio.” Erasen’s eyes widened. “I am not worthy,” he whispered. “That is understandable, and I would not blame you, nor would anyone I suppose, if you chose not to take the calling. Think about it.” Cygnus looked to Donovan. “Your mission was to keep the sphere safe. Is it with you?” The old monk nodded. “Yes, we have the sphere with us … but the creature is no longer bound within it.”

  If Cygnus was surprised, angry, or feeling any other emotion, it did not show. He merely nodded, his fingers continuously drumming on the table. “So then the beast roams the land in spirit …” his words trailed off and he rose slowly to his feet. “What is it?” Anton asked, noticing the difference in his superior’s demeanor.

  “It makes sense now. How I did not see it before …” he was shaking his head. Everyone at the table watched Cygnus, waiting for him to explain. When he didn’t, Anton pushed him for one. “A dragon is a mighty beast, but it is limited to a physical form, just like any other creature. There is limited knowledge on them, as they are not originally from our world. What I do know is that, like Orlek, they have the ability to resurrect themselves. They only need their bones to do so. This is why Vallen decided to imprison it within the sphere. If they would have killed the dragon, it would simply have raised its own body from death. A dragon’s soul is eternal, at least from what we know, and so it had to be confined inside something that could keep it there.”

  Everyone continued staring at him, still not understanding. “The dragon has to have a body to do anything … it must have possessed the prince of Talvaard!” Gasps filled the dining room. “That would explain why he murdered his brother,” Donovan conceded. “By all accounts, he didn’t want the throne. His body must be the pawn of t
he dragon.”

  “Then we must draw him out of Talvaard,” Cygnus said. “Why would we do that?” Calderon asked. “Could the dragon not just as easily kill us in the body of a man?”

  “Yes,” Cygnus answered. “But since we have the sphere, we can still use it. The magic cannot be replicated, but it can be strengthened. With the enchantments reinforced, it can be used to recapture the beast.”

  “They have it here right now,” Anton mentioned.

  Cygnus seemed pleased with that. “Very good. Take the sphere to Antimodus. He will strengthen the enchantments. You four go and get some rest. I fear we may need all of you before the night is over.”

  They all stood up and Anton instructed the young girl to escort the monks to empty rooms for the night. Donovan waited until they had all left with the exception of Anton and Cygnus.

  “I have a request,” Donovan said to Cygnus. “I need to use the Hall of Mirrors.” Anton was shaking his head. “You don’t need to. We know where the dragon’s spirit is now.” Cygnus didn’t answer, but listened to them both. Donovan sighed. “We are assuming that the dragon has taken the prince’s body, but we do not know that for certain. We must be sure.”

  They both looked to Cygnus to settle the issue. “Your request is not an easy one to grant. A former student named Jovanna has messed with the magic that is in the mirrors. We are not sure what she has done to it. We do not know if it will kill the user, or if it will show them false images. As you are aware, the mirrors were crafted by Palin himself. Jovanna is a nuisance to be sure, but she is capable of anything dealing with magic. I fear what may happen if I let you use the Hall.”

  “I accept the risk,” Donovan said. “I am an old man and I have lived my life. Let me use it and know that I accept willingly anything ill that may come of it. Your conscience can be clear.”

  Cygnus hesitated. The man knew the risks, to be sure. Yet Cygnus was keeper of the Hall, and if something happened, he could be blamed. Was it worth the risk? He couldn’t know the answer to that question. “I approve your request. But use it now and quickly. You will need to be rested.” Donovan bowed in thanks and made his way toward the Hall.

  “Are you sure about this?” Anton questioned. Cygnus shrugged. “I am sure of nothing these days.” And then he departed also, leaving Anton with his thoughts.

  “The tattoo magic of the elves is as mysterious as they are. The power doesn’t lie in the ink, but in the blood.”

  - Anton

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Morning came all too quickly for Calderon. He felt as though he had barely fallen asleep when the sun began peeking through the small window of his room. A storm had arrived during the night and the incessant tapping of rain drops pelting the glass pane had kept him awake most of the night. Or at least he blamed the rain. If he was honest with himself, he would have to blame himself for his lack of sleep.

  The news of a dangerous woman seeking the sphere and the armies of Talvaard marching on the city they were in troubled him deeply. He couldn’t fight well and had never been trained with a blade. What good could he do in a battle that had nothing to do with him? That was a lie too. The truth of it was that he was responsible for the dragon. If he would never have fallen asleep, the beast would still be bound by the magic. He sighed as all of the thoughts and doubts from the night before reared their ugly heads in his mind again.

  He had begun to wonder about this Aio and his priests. Calderon had somewhat decided to visit the Five Islands if they survived the chaos to seek out his own answers. But now that hope lay in the bottom of the Ocean. He forced himself out of bed and stretched before making his way to the window. The rain had stopped early in the morning and the clouds were beginning to break. Shafts of sunlight slanted at an angle from the sky, coming to rest on the ground and bringing their warmth with them. His room was towards the back of the structure, and so he did not see the sprawling city. He saw the stretch of valley that met the forest in the east.

  He wondered what lay within the woods. Considering everything he had seen recently, he assumed the forest could be home to any number of things. Calderon turned from the window and retrieved his brown robes. He had laid them across the desk, which happened to be the only thing in the room besides the bed. He sniffed them and scrunched up his nose. They were starting to smell like sweat. He was accustomed to washing his robes daily at the abbey. Numerous days on the road had caused the bottom of them to fray and stain with dirt. He made a note to find somewhere he could wash them.

  He put the robes on and stepped out into the hallway. Velkyn had gotten the room across from his. His friend was an early riser, so he expected Velkyn to be up and ready for breakfast by now. He knocked on the door. After waiting a long moment, he knocked again.

  Nothing. Calderon tried the handle and found it unlocked. He pushed the door open and walked in to find the room empty. As realization struck him, his heart sank. He would not find his friend; would probably not see him again. He shook his head at the futility of Velkyn’s self-made mission and went back to his room to collect the sphere. He was supposed to take it to someone named Antimodus. He rummaged through his bag but he couldn’t find it.

  He knew it was in there. He had packed it in his bag himself, and no one had touched it … he began to panic when he remembered the thugs who had stolen their bags back at the Sly Mare. Turning the bag over, he dumped all the contents onto the bed. It wasn’t there. Terror gripped him. Without the sphere, they couldn’t stop the dragon. A knock on his door startled him. He opened the door to find Donovan standing there.

  “Where is Velkyn?” the old monk asked. “I’m not sure,” Calderon answered. It wasn’t really a lie. “We have a bigger problem.” Donovan stepped inside the room. “What’s the problem?” He looked over at the mess on the bed. “Where is the sphere?”

  “That’s the problem,” Calderon said softly. “It must have fallen out or it was taken when we were robbed back in Oakvalor.” Donovan’s gaze narrowed on the young monk. “Velkyn and the sphere disappear at the same time, and you don’t see anything odd about that?”

  “Why would Velkyn take the sphere? He isn’t a wizard and he has no use for it.” Donovan considered the argument. Still, something wasn’t right. Why would Velkyn suddenly disappear unless he was doing something he shouldn’t. “Come with me, we need to inform Cygnus”

  The deep, long blare of a horn overpowered Donovan’s words. A few seconds of silence, and then another identical blare sounded. “What is that noise?” Calderon asked.

  “It’s the city guard warning of danger.”

  Calderon ran to the window and looked out. “I don’t see anything,” he said over his shoulder. Donovan nodded. “You wouldn’t from here. It’s coming from the front of the city.”

  The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. The two monks saw more than a few wizards hurriedly pass by. “Follow me. And stay close. We don’t need anyone else to go missing,” the old man remarked. Calderon respectfully adhered. They followed the wizards through the confusing maze of hallways until they reached the antechamber that led outside. The place had become organized chaos as groups of men and women dressed similar to the guards from the city gates the night before came and went.

  “They are battle mages,” Donovan explained. “They are trained in the art of magic and with weapons.”

  “Who are you?”

  Donovan looked curiously at Calderon. “Who are you really?” the young monk asked again. “You know things about this place and you know some of the people here. You are hiding something, and I want to know what it is.”

  “That’s not important right now,” Donovan said, trying to avoid the conversation. “It is to me,” Calderon replied testily. “I will not follow your lead anymore until you tell me what is going on. Who are you?” he reiterated. The old monk stared at Calderon, struggling with something internally. “I am not a monk,” he finally said. “Before I tell you anything else, if we even have the time, you
must promise not to tell anyone back at the abbey.”

  Calderon nodded silently. “I am not from Talvaard either. I was born here in Oakvalor, in this very city. I trained as a wizard within these halls.”

  “Why do you claim to be a brother of the Divines?”

  “The leaders of Palindrom have long sought to bring the sphere out of the abbey and secure it here. Each time the request was issued, the abbotregardless of who led itrefused. The monks have turned it into some sort of holy item of their faith. They do not understand that there is nothing sacred about it. It is merely a round piece of silver inscribed with magic. When the dragon was loosed by the hands of Orlek, no one could stop it. Talvaard and Oakvalor had been warring over dominion of the Five Islands for years, but both kings realized that unless they put their feud aside, everything would be destroyed by the beast.

  “So the two kings united toward the common goal of stopping the dragon. Talvaard did not have wizards, but Oakvalor did. And Oakvalor did not have metal smiths because assassins from Talvaard had killed them all. Had either side have had both, there would surely have been no alliance. As the dragon was trapped in the sphere, the creature’s body crushed the wizard who imbued the magic, leaving only the metal smith to protect it. Despite the protests of both kings, the smith took the sphere to the monks of the abbey. The king of Talvaard respected the monks enough not to try to take it by force. The wizards of Palindrom, in reward for their help in defeating the dragon, were given autonomy from the kingdom of Oakvalor and could not be convinced by the king to help take it. Nobody could forcefully take the sphere without causing either a civil war, or an all out blood bath between the two kingdoms. Since we could not bring it back here, we had to find other ways to safeguard it.”

  “By infiltrating the brotherhood?!” Calderon shouted in anger. “How could you make the vows with no intention of keeping them? They are sacred!”