Transcendence

by Transcendence [lit]

  I do not know.

  That admission pains me. It brings that haunting moment of the death of my parents crashing around me like the dark wings of despair. And yet I know that I must honestly answer the question. I must honestly assess the chances of any uprising, the odds of every potential battle. If I am to lead To-gai against the Yatols, I must do so honestly, devoid of the encouragement of hubris. In my heart I knew, before the battle ofDharyan ever began, that something was not quite right, that it was too easy and too convenient and too grievous an error by the Yatol ofDharyan, who had proven again and again that he was no fool. I sensed the danger there, and so did Ashwarawu, I suspect. But he, we, were too caught up in the possibility of the decisive win to pay attention to such feelings.

  Ashwarawu believed in the opportunity that loomed before us because he wanted to believe in it. So desperately!

  In this most critical test, Ashwarawu failed.

  I have to carefully examine all that I know of the man now.

  The first lesson that Pagonel gave to me once I had recovered from my wounds was to force me to admit, to myself, that I was angry at the opportunity lost and angry at the man who had squandered that opportunity. Ashwarawu had beaten me to the war trail and was building that which I most desire, and he failed, and set back my cause, our cause, perhaps irreparably.

  My first task, then, is to release myself from the bitterness I feel tou;ard Ashwarawu. I have to examine carefully all that I know of the man now. Without blame, I must examine his failures and his triumphs. It is my task to study what he did right and what he did wrong, to learn from it, to better prepare myself.

  Does this mean that I will take up the reins of battle again, that I still hope to lead To-gai in an uprising against the cursed Yatols?

  That is my hope, yes, but I cannot know now if ever again I will see the opportunity before me.

  And while the hope remains, it remains pushed far from the realities of the present. That is not the purpose of my path anymore.

  - brynn dharielle

  chapter

  The Play’s the Thing

  H

  e looked up the sheer, fifty-foot wall, then glanced over his shoulders at his tiny wings, lamenting that they were nowhere near strong enough to get him out of the hole.

  Belli’mar Juraviel could only sigh, reminding himself that even if he could somehow get out of the hole, he would still be a long way from free. He’d have to cross through the lair of Agradeleous, the dragon, and into the adjoining tunnels, and then somehow navigate his way out of the Path of Starless Night. Which way would he go, north or south? With the dis­covery of the Doc’alfar, and now finding the location of one of the great dragons, it seemed obvious to Juraviel that his road should be to the north, back to Andur’Blough Inninness to speak with Lady Dasslerond.

  But now, from Agradeleous’ own tales, it seemed as if Brynn had escaped the terrors of the dragon, and in the direction of the To-gai steppes. It was pos­sible that she was already chasing her destiny - one that Belli’mar Juraviel had been charged with overseeing.

  And, of course, there remained his promise to King Eltiraaz that he would not return home with news of the Doc’alfar.

  And, of course, it was all moot anyway, because Agradeleous was as mighty a jailor as could be found in all the world, and the dread dragon wasn’t about to let his prisoners get away.

  A noise at the back of the small pit brought Juraviel from his contempla­tions and turned him toward the one tunnel exit out of the main prison, a long and low corridor leading to a steamy ledge, a waterfall pouring over it and dropping down to sizzle in a wide pit of molten lava. Cazzira, her black hair wet from washing, her creamy skin all red from the steam, entered the chamber, wearing nothing more than her short shirt.

  „Has he returned yet?“ she asked casually, tossing her wet hair back from her face.

  Belli’mar Juraviel just stood and watched her for a moment, letting her question drift away.

  Cazzira froze, noting the stare. „What is it?“ she asked, smiling, even gig. gling a bit.

  „I was only thinking how much longer this imprisonment would seem if you were noi here beside me,“ Juraviel admitted.

  Cazzira s smile only widened and she moved right next to the golden-haired, golden-eyed Touel’alfar, placing her hand gently upon his slender and strong shoulder. Juraviel closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, filling him­self with Cazzira’s sweet scent. For a moment, he thought of stepping for­ward and wrapping her in his arms, and kissing her, but that fleeting moment washed away as Cazzira asked him, „Why must you think of it as imprisonment?“

  Juraviel stepped back, blinking his eyes open. „Because that is what it is.“

  Cazzira shrugged. „And your time with my people was imprisonment, as well.“ The Doc’alfar spun away as she made the remark, moving for her drying clothes spread on a rock at the far end of the wide pit.

  „It was,“ Juraviel called after her. „And less pleasant than this time! Your people kept Brynn and me in a room of mud!“

  „Peat,“ Cazzira corrected. „Where else were we to put you? We chose not to give you to the bog - for that you should be grateful.“

  A burst of helpless laughter escaped Juraviel. He shook his head and looked back up at the pit’s rim.

  „And Agradeleous chose not to eat us, or burn the flesh from our bones,“ Cazzira went on.

  „Which I still do not understand.“

  „He recognized us for who we are.“

  „And why might that spare us?“ Juraviel asked. „When have either the Touel’alfar or the Doc’alfar been allied with the great dragons? I would have thought that any recognition of our heritage by Agradeleous would have prompted the flames all the more quickly.“

  Cazzira sighed and slumped to the side, tilting her head, her body lan­guage reminding Juraviel that they had discussed this issue many times be­fore. „Four races,“ she said. „Only four. Doc’alfar and Touel’alfar, the children of life, the dactyls and the dragons, the beasts of death.“

  „That is how it was, not how it is.“

  „But that is how Agradeleous still views the world,“ Cazzira explained. „To him, the other races - human, powrie, goblin, giant - are no more than animals, vermin to be exterminated. But we, you and I, represent two of the true races, and to the dragon, we are a novelty, and a chance for companionship.“

  „Even if our races are avowed enemies?“

  „That means little if the races have been reduced to a few creatures. If the Tylwyn Doc and the Tylwyn Tou were at war, and all that remained were the two of us, would we continue the battle?“

  A wisp of a smile curled Juraviel’s lips. He could not imagine warring

  • K Cazzira under any circumstances, not after spending these weeks be-

  I her learning so much of her dreams and hopes and philosophy. Not af-eali’zing that he and she were so much alike in so many ways, both Sgmas to their respective peoples.

  „But the dragons and the dactyl are creatures of darkness,“ he argued. „When Bestesbulzibar, curse his name, walked Corona a decade ago, there was no parley. There was only war.“

  „The dragons are not so akin to the demon dactyls, then,“ said Cazzira.

  Turaviel let his line of reasoning end with that, for indeed, there were pro­found differences between the two dark races. The dragons, always rare, were mortal creatures and were of Corona, while the demon dactyls were creatures of another plane of existence, creatures that found an inviting rift to come and terrorize the world. Elven legend said that this rift was caused by the evil in the hearts of men, and thus, the elves often considered the hu­mans as children of the demon dactyls.

  „Will he tire of us?“ Juraviel asked. „Will we become vermin in Agra-deleous’ snake eyes?“

  Cazzira held her pose for a long moment, then shook her head. „I think that the dragon has grown fond of us, or fond of companionship, at least.“

  „Then Agradeleous
will never let us go.“

  Cazzira only shrugged.

  Juraviel went back to studying the high walls of his prison, searching for minute ledges, for cracks, for anything that would allow him a handhold, landing and liftoff places where his diminutive wings might propel him out. This prison had been well prepared, however, with the walls fire-blasted to slag that ran down in smooth sheets.

  Juraviel walked over to one of the boulders lying about the floor and sat down, dropping his head to his palm.

  Cazzira walked up behind him and draped her arms over his shoulders, moving in very close and kissing him gently on the back of the head. „Your friend escaped,“ she said. „Agradeleous admitted as much.“

  „Escaped this area,“ Juraviel replied.

  ‘And likely, escaped the mountains altogether, if she is as well-trained as you claim. You must have faith in her, my friend. Perhaps Brynn Dharielle is already leading the To-gai-ru against their hated enemies.“

  Juraviel reached up and grasped Cazzira’s elbow, squeezing gently. He tilted his head back so that it rested side by side with Cazzira’s, so that he could better smell the freshness of her washed hair.

  And then the ground thumped beneath them, a sudden jolt, the footfall °f an approaching dragon.

  Cazzira backed away and hugged herself tightly, but still, she seemed

  „e at ease than did Juraviel, who just sat there, staring up at the rim.

  i he reptilian head peered over a moment later, not huge, as it had been when the elves had first encountered the mighty Agradeleous, but about the size of horse’s head. Agradeleous’ head, though, even in this dirnirm tive form, was intimidating, covered with rows of reddish gold scales, virk pointed, gleaming teeth too long to be contained within his closed maw and horns jutting out above his eyes - horns as long as great lances whe ‘ the dragon was in its natural form. Most intimidating of all, though, wer Agradeleous’ eyes, shining greenish yellow and with black lines running their center, eyes seeming somewhere between those of a reptile and thos of a cat. Wisps of smoke wafted out of the dragon’s nostrils with each exha­lation, framing his face as he moved forward. He came to the lip of the pit glanced about to locate the elves, then leaped down, his wings, tiny now al­most in the same proportion as Juraviel’s, beating the air with little effect

  He landed hard right beside the two elves, who were bounced into the air from the impact.

  Juraviel and Cazzira, despite their understanding that Agradeleous would not harm them, could not help but instinctively shrink away, for even in this bipedal form, almost like a large, red-scaled man with a short and thick tail, small wings, and that horse-sized head, he was an intimidating beast, pro­jecting an aura of power that mocked anything that Cazzira had ever seen - and second only to Bestesbulzibar himself in the memory of Belli’mar Juraviel. And while Bestesbulzibar’s might was more insidious, was the power to dominate others and use them as pawns, Agradeleous’ strength was sheer, brute force, the power of a volcano and an earthquake, of a terri­ble storm with focused wrath.

  His movements were not fluid, but were darting, like the forked tongue that continually flicked out between his long canines. He reached forward, holding a pack, which Juraviel took, knowing it to be more of the nutritious mushrooms that had been sustaining the elves through the months.

  „More tales this day,“ the dragon demanded. Where Agradeleous’ voice had been deafening before, in the dragon’s true, gigantic form, now it was rasping, but hardly diminished. Each syllable sent a shiver up from the stone of the floor, coursing Juraviel’s small frame. „Tell me of this… ranger? This man I killed, that you name Emhem Dal.“

  „I know little of Emhem Dal,“ the elf replied, and the dragon frowned. „But there is another tale I might tell, one greater still, of a ranger named Nightbird who did battle with Bestesbulzibar, the demon dactyl.“

  Agradeleous’ reptile-and-cat eyes narrowed suddenly, and the dragon ex­haled, seething smoke flowing from his nostrils. Though the dragons and the demon dactyls were paired in legend as the races of darkness, though the legends named the dragons as the creations of the demon dactyls, the two races were hardly allied, and it seemed to Juraviel as if Agradeleous would truly enjoy hearing about the defeat of Bestesbulzibar.

  The dragon gave a low and long growl, which Juraviel interpreted as Agradeleous’ way of saying, „Hmm.“

  „It is a good tale?“ came the rasping question.

  „The greatest of our age,“ Juraviel replied. „And one that, perhaps, is not

  n tell it, Belli’mar Juraviel, and let me be the judge of its worthi-“ h trreat wurm decided, and then Agradeleous’ voice rose suddenly

  .-shaking volume. „Fear my wrath if I judge that it is not so!“ °nviel noted Cazzira’s look of concern, but he dismissed it with a wry r^ere was no tale that he knew of to exceed the story of Nightbird „„This heroic companions. And even if Agradeleous somehow found a way j tne tale as unworthy, Juraviel understood the dragon’s roar to be •r than his bite. Agradeleous would not kill them over a story, not when he craved so many, many more.

  And Juraviel began the tale of Elbryan, starting with the sacking of Dun-dalis those years before, and the rescue of the young man, really just a boy. It occurred to him as he spoke that another survivor of that fateful day, one who would be mentioned often in his recounting, had a story not yet com­pleted, though of course, Juraviel had no idea that the same little girl who had crawled, soot-covered and battered, out of Dundalis was soon to be­come the queen of Honce-the-Bear!

  With great detail, Juraviel spoke of the years Elbryan spent with the Touel’alfar, of his training and of his strength of body and of mind.

  „All this from a human?“ Agradeleous asked incredulously, more than once, and each time Juraviel nodded, the dragon gave another growling, „hmm,“ as if the tale was making him reconsider, a bit at least, his previous views of the lesser human race.

  Cazzira listened, too, sitting on the very edge of a rocky seat, leaning for­ward, devouring every word. That pleased Juraviel greatly, more so than he would have expected. He didn’t fear that the Doc’alfar was gathering infor­mation here - none to use against him and his people, at least - but rather, that she was just enjoying the story. And even more than that, she was en­joying the storyteller.

  Juraviel went on for a long, long time, and was still not even close to telling of the final ceremony, when Elbryan became Nightbird, when he sat back and took a deep breath, then sat silent for a long while.

  Go on!“ Agradeleous and Cazzira said together, and they looked at each other in surprise, then laughed at the shared emotion. I am tired, and wish to eat and to rest,“ Juraviel said. out I wish to hear more! I wish to hear it all!“ the dragon growled. And I fear to tell it all, for what tale shall I tell next that would not pale beside the story of Nightbird?“

  lit!“ Agradeleous demanded, and stomped his clawed foot, shaking And if it is as worthy as you say, then tell it again and again and d8am, through the years and the ages!“

  i -gravid nodded, taking it all in, trying to draw some better measure of fagon’s perceptions and intentions toward him and Cazzira. He wished

  that he could view this situation as Cazzira obviously saw it, with the c tentment that it was a worthy experience, an enriching conversation and me

  ing, expanding her understanding of this, the rarest of Corona’s races a

  in many ways the most magnificent. And truly, if Juraviel had not had pre < ing business at that time, he might have viewed his long time with Ae deleous quite differently. But though months had passed, the elf could forget the possibility that his charge, his friend, was out there, facing trial that he was supposed to help her overcome, trials that might have a pro found and direct impact upon the survival of his own people, should th scar from the demon dactyl continue to grow.

  Juraviel needed closure with Brynn, needed to know if she had indeed es caped the tunnels and found her way into To-gai, and
if she had, how she was faring, before he could begin to accept this chapter of his life beside Agradeleous openly.

  So Juraviel went on again, telling of the naming of Elbryan as Nightbird and the passage of the ranger back into the lands of his own people.

  „And you did not accompany him?“ Cazzira asked. „None of the Tylwyn Tou went with him? I thought that was your way.“

  „Only with Brynn,“ Juraviel explained. „Because her journey would take her to lands where we could not readily gather any information.“

  „And because that information is important to your people?“ Agradele­ous asked slyly. „Why is that, Belli’mar Juraviel? What are your people planning if not a journey to the south, through the mountains, through my home? And perhaps your army means to take my treasure with it, yes?“

  „No! No, no, no, no!“ Juraviel shouted, waving his arms, trying hard to slow down the dragon’s mounting anger. „How could we have planned such a thing if we did not even know of your existence, great Agradeleous? The only dragons that we know of, if they are even still alive, dwell in the ice pack of the northland of Alpinador, a place where no Touel’alfar goes.“

  „But if Belli’mar Juraviel could tell his people…“ the dragon hinted.

  „They would stay as far from the Path of Starless Night as possible,“ the elf countered without the slightest hesitation. „Why would the Touel’alfar wish conflict with Agradeleous? For Agradeleous’ treasure? But that trea­sure is not what we treasure, if you understand. We have the silverel of the darkfern and a valley of magic and enchantment. Gold holds no great sway over us, as it does with the humans.“

  The dragon considered the reasoning for a few moments, then nodded and gave what Juraviel took to be a sincere and accepting growl. Juraviel went on, then, in a very animated manner, playing out the many battles he described, even making up a few that fit in with the few props - a single branch and a relatively flat stone that he could hold as a shield - which were available to him in the pit.