"You thought that you were a king. Now you are nothing more than a slave, a weak and crippled thing. Contemplate that well until I return, and then we will have another lesson in humility prepared for you. I will visit you each day until your dragon's pride wills you to die rather than face me once again."
The voice was gone, but the pain did not begin to release him for a long time. He had been a fool, indeed a far bigger fool than he would have ever thought. Above all, he had been a fool for continuing this quest when he had known he should turn back. He had not yet discovered just how powerful his true enemy was, and yet he had been aware that he was overmatched. He had told himself he needed to know more before he could face the Overlord in battle, and all he had learned was that this was an enemy he could never hope to match. And he was twice a fool for bringing Kharendaen here.
He had no idea how long he lay lost in his torment. Clearly the Overlord and the Masters had long since left him, satisfied in knowing there was no peace or rest for him, even alone with his thoughts. The intolerable pain in his back began to ease slightly after a time, so that he no longer had to pant with the mere effort to draw a breath. He knew he had been badly hurt in the collision with the wall. His terrible injuries would seem to limit the time that he would be tortured and allowed to live. The Overlord had other, greater conquests at hand.
The irony was that he had come to learn the secrets of an enemy he had hardly known, yet the Overlord had known secrets of his own that he had never guessed he kept hidden. Secrets, it seemed, that he would have been better off if he had never known, but which he could not deny. He had thought the fact that he hadn't grown up as a dragon had isolated him from their common faults. And he had always assumed that the fact that he was the chosen of the Immortals, indeed the son of an Immortal, implied that he must somehow be perfectly suited for the task that had been assigned to him. He had assumed a great many things that had seemed simple and obvious and really not all that important, which he now recognized as an expression of his draconic pride.
The Overlord was very right about one other thing. In nothing else had Thelvyn so proven that he was a dragon at heart than in his dragon's pride. He was surprised that he didn't find it quite the insult it had been intended to be.
When he opened his eyes, he saw that he and Kharendaen were no longer in the pit in the immense, mist-filled chamber but had somehow been moved to a smaller chamber or cell of some type, still more than large enough for the two dragons. There was no sign of any window or even a door. He saw Kharendaen sitting back on her haunches with her tail curled around her legs, looking down at him.
"How do you feel?" she asked when she saw him open his eyes.
He started to lift his head, but it hurt too much. "How . . . how long does it take a dragon to die?"
She looked startled and concerned. "A dragon can take a very long time to die, depending upon the nature of his injuries."
"I think my back is broken," he told her plainly. "I cannot move."
"Then do not try to move," she told him firmly. "You might also be surprised by what a dragon can survive, and how quickly you recover."
"I doubt that I will be allowed the time," Thelvyn complained, then lifted his head slightly to look around in spite of the pain. "When did they move us here?"
"We have not been moved anywhere," Kharendaen explained to Thelvyn's surprise. "After you lost consciousness, ihe darkness closed in all around us, and then these walls formed at what had been the edge of the pit. The Overlord has come to look at us from time to time, somehow removing the walls and then restoring them when he left."
"How long was I unconscious?" Thelvyn asked.
"You have slept these last two days, at least insofar as I can judge time," she told him. "I began to wonder if you would ever be coming back to me."
Thelvyn laid his head down on the cold stone floor and closed his eyes for a long moment. He had been hurt worse than he had thought; he had thought that only a few long minutes of pain had passed, and that he had not slept at all. He wondered what was happening in his own world. Were his allies beginning to think he would not be returning to defend them? He also wondered if there was some way that he could get Kharendaen out of this place, and he wondered what would become of her when he was gone. He had made a hopeless mess of everything. Bitterly he thought the Immortals had been foolish to insist upon sending him to this place.
"Perhaps there was never any hope," Kharendaen said softly, guessing his thoughts. "Perhaps the risk of this journey was simply too great. We took the chance, the only chance we had. You have done the best you can, and you must not blame yourself. You were given the responsibility to try your best, and you have done that."
"There was never any room for failure, not in this matter," 'Thelvyn said bitterly. "The price of my failure will be our world. I have lost everything."
"You have not lost me."
Thelvyn turned his head away. "You could not leave if you wanted to."
Kharendaen laid back her ears, perplexed. Then she rose and moved slowly around to sit down again direcdy in front of him, where he could not so easily ignore her. "You have been stung by words that were meant to deceive you. I would not leave you now even if I could. Why do you suddenly seem to think I want to shun your company?"
"I haven't exactly made a good showing as Dragonking, have I?" he asked, then closed his eyes. "I've been playing the part of the hero who boldly saves the world. What a disappointment I've been."
"Do you think that I am disappointed in you?" Kharendaen lifted her head in astonishment, suddenly realizing what was bothering him. She laid back her ears, looking very sad. "What a life you have been asked to lead. Never allowed to know who or what you are, never allowed to know your own place in the world or find your own sense of worth. Having been raised among the Flaem, always having to prove yourself to them, you might come to think that the only measure of worth in the world is by what you have done or what you should be able to do. All that you have ever known is what was expected of you."
"So?" he looked up at her, confused and annoyed. "What else is there?"
"Our deeds and abilities count for a great deal, but they are by no means the only measure of a person's value. I know you do not judge others by such shallow standards, so why do you expect yourself to be judged in that way? Did you think you must earn my companionship by the honor that I received from the dragons from being your mate?"
"No," Thelvyn muttered, not quite certain what he wanted to say. "But I feel that I've let you down."
"There are some things that dragons are . . . especially poor at saying," Kharendaen explained haltingly, rising and walking in a tight circle before she returned to sit beside him. "We always leave certain things left unsaid, tilings that should have been said, so perhaps I can't blame you for coming to your own conclusions. You've always been able to make it clear to me how much I mean to you. I've taken it for granted that you understood how much you mean to me as well."
In spite of himself, Thelvyn had to hide his smile. There were indeed some things that dragons had a hard time saying, and Kharendaen seemed to be doing anything she could to avoid saying what she really meant.
"I wish we could have had more time to get to know each other better," he said. "All the hundreds of years of a dragon's lifetime."
"If our time together is indeed coming to an end, then there arc certain things that should be said," she said, lowering her head to rub the side of her cheek against his own. "You see, I mn going to lay an egg."
"What?" In spite of the pain, Thelvyn lifted his head sharply to stare at her. "How . . . how do you know?"
"Because I've developed a craving for nonvirgins," Kharendaen declared, amused by his reaction. "Oh, honestly. Female dragons know such things."
"But how long have you known? When will it come?"
"I've suspected it since before we left Shadowmere," she answered, rubbing her cheek against his again. "That's why, when you decided that it
was important for you to remain in dragon form, I welcomed your decision. It is no longer wise for me to change from my true form. But don't get overly excited just yet. A dragon does not lay her egg until shortly before it hatches. I don't expect it to come for almost another year yet."
"Merciful heavens," Thelvyn said softly to himself. "I can't imagine how this happened."
"Didn't Sir George have a little talk with you when we first arrived at Shadowmere?" she asked with tolerant amusement.
He quickly searched his memory. "Yes . . . yes, he did say something about eggs. But what you taught me was much more interesting."
"Then you prefer a practical education over a theoretical one?"
Thelvyn lowered his head, his expression becoming one of determination. "We have to get away from here."
"That simply is not possible," Kharendaen told him. "Even if there were a way to escape, you cannot move. If you tried to move, even if you changed form so that I could carry you away, you would almost certainly not survive. And my clerical powers are gone. I cannot help you."
Thelvyn didn't seem to hear her. He stared aimlessly while he desperately searched for some means that would allow them to escape. Perhaps it was foolish for him to return to his old trust, considering how much the Immortals had underestimated the powers of the Overlord, but he had to believe that the Great One had intended him to be able to defeat his enemies. Surely the Great One had made certain he would be powerful enough to at least have a chance to defeat the Masters and the Overlord. He was convinced he must have far greater powers that he had not yet discovered.
All the same, this was the worst time and place for him to try to discover powers that he had not yet mastered. He would need the guidance of the Great One, something that was not available to him now. Then he realized that he might be looking for bigger answers than he needed when simpler answers were at hand. The free clans of the Veydran had escaped domination for centuries. If he could only recall their secret. . . .
"They know his name," he said at last.
"Who knows what name?" Kharendaen asked, cocking her head in mystification. "The Overlord?"
"The Veydran know his name, and therefore he cannot control their will," Thelvyn said as he lifted his head. "If I could remember the name they used, that would give us a strong tool in planning our escape."
"I don't recall that they ever spoke his name," she said, still perplexed. "All I ever heard was 'the Overlord.' "
"That was the word we heard in our minds," he explained. "But I tried to pay attention to the language of the Veydran as they spoke. I was curious to know if there was any relationship between their language and that of the dragons. I was especially interested in learning their name for the Overlord, but I'm not certain now what I heard."
Thelvyn laid his head on the cold stone floor, trying very hard to think back over their brief encounter with the Veydran, but he found that he was growing incredibly weary, and the pain in his back assaulted him anew. The true seriousness of his injuries was making itself known to him, so that it was difficult to direct his thoughts toward anything but his struggle to hold to the fading edges of consciousness. His efforts to remember just what the Veydran leader had said were already forgotten.
He wasn't even aware he had slept again until he was startled back to awareness, and even then he found himself in a nightmare of fear and pain. The walls of the cell were gone, and once again he lay in the shallow pit in the center of the large chamber where the Masters had gathered to witness his humiliation. The gemstone dragons were gone, or else they remained hidden within the dark mists that had closed almost to the very edge of the pit. The Overlord was glaring down at him, his immense, hideous face half hidden in the mist. Kharendaen stood over him protectively, but the posture of challenge she presented seemed halfhearted and desperate.
Thelvyn lifted his head painfully. It seemed to him that his back and shoulders hurt more than ever. He recognized one important difference from the first visit of the Overlord, however. The first time, he had not even been aware that the Overlord had taken control of his will. This time, however, his will remained entirely his own, at least for the moment.
"Then you are back, Little One?" the Overlord asked condescendingly. "You dragons are very slow to die."
"I have no plans of dying any time soon," Thelvyn responded. "And I won't allow you to make a fool of me again."
He realized that he had to act quickly, while he still could. If the Overlord were to look within his thoughts, his secret would be betrayed. He would never have a second chance. Looking up, he caught the gaze of the Overlord, staring into those large, malevolent eyes. That seemed to catch the Overlord by surprise, giving Thelvyn a momentary advantage over his opponent. Then Thelvyn spoke a single word, his voice loud, deep, and clear, the sound of it echoing through the hidden depths of the mist-filled chamber.
The Overlord drew back suddenly in alarm. The sound of his name apparently did him no' physical harm, but it obviously alarmed him. He hadn't been challenged directly in centuries, and it shook his confidence. Kharendaen stared at her mate for a moment, then turned back to the Overlord and repeated his name, protecting herself from his control. The Overlord hesitated in apprehension and then drew back into the concealing darkness of the mists to consider his next move. His captives had proven stronger than he had expected, and he wanted to avoid confronting them until he felt certain that they would not surprise him again.
Thelvyn knew he had to act quickly. The Overlord had withdrawn, but Thelvyn had no way of knowing how far he had gone. He closed his eyes and concentrated, reaching deep within his own powers, and for a moment his entire form began to glow with a soft golden light. When the light faded, he rose stiffly, moving slowly and with great uncertainty at first but gaining strength quickly. Kharendaen hurried to his side, fearful that he might harm himself, until she realized that he was calling upon his own powers to repair his injuries.
"We don't have a moment to waste," he told her quietly. "If we don't get out of here right now, we never will. The Overlord might not be able to control us now, but he can still fight us."
"But can you move?" she asked anxiously.
"I have no choice but to try."
At least he was spared the need to try to fly just yet; the spells that were healing his damaged back were still working, and he was in considerable pain even yet. Nor did he dare to attempt to fly through the walls of dark mist that filled the chamber, with no idea of its size or where he could find an exit. He climbed stiffly over the edge of the pit, waiting a moment for Kharendaen to join him before they began to hurry through the darkness, heading in the opposite direction from where they had last seen the Overlord. The mists parted slowly about them as they hurried across the stone floor at a half-run, unable to see more than a few yards ahead of them. They had to be careful not to lose sight of each other.
The two dragons ran for what seemed like several hundred yards, and they were beginning to wonder just how vast this chamber was when they suddenly encountered the wall looming suddenly out of the mist. Thelvyn paused for an instant, staring up as far as he could see along the featureless expanse of smooth, gray stone before he turned to run along the wall to his right. He had to find a way out of this chamber before it was sealed against them, just as the walls had materialized around the central pit to form their prison. When he did not find what he was seeking, he had to wonder if it was already too late. Only a few seconds had passed since they had escaped from the pit, but in that oppressive darkness, each second seemed to possess the weight of a hour.
When he came abrupdy to a corner, he had to pause a second time, trying to decide whether he should go back or search along the new wall. Taking a chance, he turned again to his right and began to race along the length of the new wall, running almost blindly in the darkness, certain that the next corner must be hundreds of yards ahead. Just as they approached what he thought should be about halfway along the wall, he began to slow somewhat
in anticipation of finding a doorway. Instead, they came suddenly into an open pocket in the mists, as if the gray fog had been blown away from that portion of the wall.
Thelvyn stopped short and sat back on his tail so that he could lift his long neck to look up. Suddenly he realized that there might not be any floor-level entrances to this chamber. The only way in or out could be through passages set high in the wall; the gemstone dragons had the ability to fly, and the Overlord could probably come and go by will alone. Perhaps by chance, there was enough air moving through the passages of the stronghold to clear the air in this one small area as it poured through the unseen opening somewhere above.
Thelvyn stepped away from the wall and spread his wings. He was reassured to find that the pain and stiffness in his back had nearly disappeared. Then he leapt upward and began to climb in a tight spiral, with Kharendaen close behind him. He wondered how the Masters found their way through the mist, unless they possessed some magical instinct for direction. Moments later, he suddenly emerged into open air. The ceiling of the large chamber was more than a hundred yards high, and the misty clouds setded into only the lower portion, filling it like the bottom of a bowl. Now he could see several wide rectangular passageways opening into the chamber, one of them just before him.
He landed on the ledge at the front of the opening, still feeling a bit unsteady. The roof of the passage looked too low for him to try to fly through it. A short distance beyond the opening, the passageway began to climb upward at a steep angle. He folded away his wings and moved quickly out of the way, giving Kharendaen room to land beside him. Then, moving side by side, they began the difficult climb up the steep passage, their claws scratching against the smooth stone of the ramp as they struggled upward. The passage itself was dark, but there was a pale light in the opening above.
The passage was a long, difficult climb. It was less than fifty yards in actual length, but it was so steep that they were constantly in danger of slipping and falling. They were nearly at the top when the form of a gemstone dragon moved suddenly into the opening above, standing dark and menacing against the light. Although it appeared to be alone, it would be difficult to get by it because of the positional advantage it commanded at the top of the steep ramp. The two dragons continued their climb, acutely aware that they couldn't afford to be delayed.
D& D - Mystara 03 Dragonmage of Mystara Page 32