Blood of Four Dragons

by Lisa Jones

  Zebial slammed into the guardian’s neck with such force that it was decapitated and drove into the ground over twenty feet creating a large crater. The remaining surrounding buildings collapsed from the thunderclap of the impact. Only blood and some twitching feet remained of the guardian. Zebial emerged from the crater he had created and flew away immediately. There was nothing he could do for this village, everyone was already dead or gone and there were very few buildings left. If they were they were on fire. Zebial could only take solace in the fact that the guardian’s rampage was over and could not falsely sully his name any worse than it already had. Zebial now heeded Bultan’s advice after releasing some of his rage. Instead of confronting Zangonath now, he would work on locating, awakening and eliminating the other guardian statues to wake his brother and sisters.

  The south of Lenau is a beautiful area of old growth preserved forest. There is a lovely coastline along the river of separation allowing for a favorite pastime, fishing. No homes, not even nobles are allowed to construct along the river of separation. There are only minimal lodges, sparsely located which serve more the purpose of cleaning up after the fisherman than they do in serving guests. The loose fish is one such favorite tavern of the local fishermen as it serves alcohol no matter the day or time. The owner is also very well known and is a friend to every local so it seems. Camor is the proprietor of the loose fish and he prides himself on serving fellow Lenau citizens and if they are locals, even better. The Rozim, and occasional Grazlin hikers or fishermen should try someplace else with their demands and expectations. “Expectation is the executioner of possibility,” Camor always liked to say, better to have none and live presently.

  “You ugly son of a bitch, pour us two strong ones,” a gruff voice called to Camor as a gray haired dirty looking man strode through the door with an equally gruff and dirty looking man next to him. Both looked and smelled as if they had been at sea for weeks when all they were doing was day fishing. “Everything is strong to a weak livered girl and his dog” replied Camor. They both stared at each other for a moment before all three burst into raucous laughter as Camor proceeded to pour the two drinks. “How’s the fish biting today Ral,” Camor asked looking at the gray haired man who he was jesting with previously. “Well, Bord and I were out all morning with only a few meaningful bites, no keepers though” Ral replied as he finished his drink. “We’re going to head back out after we have a few drinks.” Bord chimed in, maybe it can change our luck he said nudging Ral with his elbow. “Well let me know if it picks up this afternoon, I’m planning on going tomorrow to see if I can’t catch some fresh dinner.” Camor said to them as he refilled their drinks; they smoked and nodded in return.

  When he had finished refilling their drinks the door opened and a strange man walked in. Very tall, quite fat, wearing all black and stinking of smoke, not cigar or pipe smoke, but brimstone and fire type smoke. He had a full beard that appeared never shaven and an unkempt mane of wild hair. He wore no cape, hat or crest but fastened about his waist were two large swords attached to a wide leather belt. Upon the belt was an absolutely huge silver buckle bearing an insignia of a dragon that Camor did not recognize. All the regulars from their regular corners let out an unenthusiastic murmur of disapproval as the man came in and made his way to the bar. Camor let out a long sigh, making sure to be heard and glared at the stranger with unwelcome eyes. “I am looking for the halfway mark of stone in the river of separation.” The stranger said in an unknown accent as he laid several gold pieces on the counter. “Also a drink if you please.” “Well stranger, Camor said briskly, what you can do is keep your damn foreign money, as he slid the coin into his own pocket. Now, Camor pointed to the door, go back out that door you came in, turn right and walk about twenty miles and you might stumble across that fake stone marker those Rozim dogs placed in our sacred river, Got it?” Ral and Bord stared at the stranger as his jaw tightened and he locked eyes with Camor. It appeared this was going to get ugly fast. Ral unfastened his knife to make for quick access. However, instead the large wild looking man in black smiled and stepped backwards. “As you would have it barkeep” the man said as he turned and walked back towards the door. Camor, Ral and Bord were smiling at each other and already laughing under their breath. Before the stranger left he turned and said, “Camor son of Mizek has shown he is a fool, and all a fool has will be lost.” He then turned and left much quicker than when he had entered.

  There was a moment of silence and then, “Wait; how the fuck does that guy know my name and my father’s name” Camor said while looking at Ral? Neither he nor Bord could understand how he had known Camor’s name so they could only shrug in response. Camor stopped what he was doing, dropped his towel and ran outside after the Wildman to question him, but when he got there, no one was outside. When looked for, the man seemed to have vanished. Camor stood there, scratching his head and looking in every direction. Not a soul, Camor went back inside to see everyone standing and looking at him. “Well?” Bord said, “There was nobody out there, I couldn’t find him.” Camor returned slowly. The room was silent until someone near the back probably the town drunkard Veek blurted, “Pour my liquor boy, don’t drink it.” Everyone burst into laughter and began to relax a bit; even Camor let out a smile and moved back to tending the bar.

  Sedsor was fishing his Sunday away next to the great stone that marks the halfway point of the river of separation. His pole stuck lazily in the mud, Sedsor even more lazily lying away from the shoreline under an oak tree dozing in and out of consciousness. He loved this spot; most people didn’t want to see what they considered to be an eyesore in the form of the enormous stone marker while they were fishing. The secluded nature of the spot was always a draw to him. But today as he lay there Sedsor heard footsteps, footsteps coming in his direction. Lying under the oak tree away from the bank he was well shielded from vision with leaves if you were on the shore, so he decided not to move. Suddenly, next to him breezing past out of the woods eyes fixated on the marker Sedsor saw a large wild looking man emerge. The man approached the marker very methodically as if he had been planning a trip here for a long time. Never taking his eyes off the stone marker, he never even saw Sedsor and if he did he felt no need to acknowledge him. The large, wild looking man approached the large stone marker and ran his hand along its side over a rune carving. Sedsor stayed completely still under the tree and decided to observe this strange man’s actions.

  Sedsor noticed that on the man’s left hand he wore a large sapphire ring upon the middle finger. The deep blue hue of the gem was striking. The man clenched his fist, raised it towards the sky and muttered some words Sedsor could not understand. The wind seemed to increase, and the sun darkened. Bringing his clenched fist down he pressed his ring into an indentation in the rock face and rotated his hand three hundred and sixty degrees counter clockwise! Sedsor could not believe his eyes; the rock began to unfold before him, changing into something else completely. Before Sedsor could blink, what was the stone marker along the river now stood as a large stone dragon with a blue sapphire affixed to its chest larger than any gem Sedsor had ever seen. He stood there, trying to take in the scene. This giant stone dragon now stood looking down at this Wildman, this sorcerer to Sedsor’s mind. The Wildman then raised his fist again, pointing the sapphire ring at the sapphire gem on the chest of the beast. The Wildman began to utter an incantation and the great stone beast began to sway. Before his eyes Sedsor saw the stone give way to skin and scales. The statue seemed to come to life! The huge sapphire on the beast’s chest seemed to ripple like water as the transformation occurred. The Wildman was smiling ear to ear and seemed to be controlling and talking to the huge dragon. Just then the dragon laid its head on the ground and allowed the man to climb on him, as the dragon picked its head back up to its full height turned and began to march back down the river leaving Sedsor nothing but an unbelievable story to tell.

  Evening was setting in as the sun began to fade behind the trees. Camor
was closing up the loose fish for the night when he heard a thundering boom outside. The noise was so loud it actually hurt his ears and shifted his vision for a moment. Walking outside, thinking perhaps a large tree had fallen, Camor walked unseen right into the dragon’s left front leg. Stopping and looking and up and up and up, Camor left his jaw on the floor. There was the same man, the wild looking man who knew his name and lineage before, sitting atop this dragon as one might ride a horse! Camor immediately fell to his knees and began begging, “Please sir, please spare my life, I know my tongue gets away from me sometimes and I can be rude, I beg your forgiveness sir.” Camor was hysterical now pawing at the ground. “Calm yourself mortal.” The dragon spoke in a voice like rain. Camor shot up to his knees once again from his prostrate position. As he did so he saw the large Wildman in black dismounting the dragon. The man seemed larger now, meaner, more menacing. Step after heavy step he approached Camor. Lifting him from his knees to his feet, the Wildman placed his hands on Camor’s shoulders as they stood there in the shadow of the dragon, which was now standing completely still.

  “Stop crying and look at me Camor,” the Wildman spoke in a deeper yet somehow gentler voice. Camor felt a sense of peace come over him as he looked into the Wildman’s eyes. “Who are you,” was all he could manage to speak? “When you meet a stranger, you should choose your words carefully next time Camor, you never know whom you may be speaking to. What you see here behind me is not a real dragon; it is a stone guardian of the real dragon Iezlear. I have transmuted it and control it through the magic energy of their gems. I control this particular guardian now through the sapphire on its chest.” “How do you know such things” Camor asked dumbstruck? “There is no trick, only truth. When you are a dragon yourself these things are natural the Wildman spoke as fire danced in his eyes. Camor fell backwards upon seeing the fiery eyes, the Wildman turned around pointed his ring at the great sapphire attached to the dragon’s chest and with a single word the sapphire shattered, the dragon followed suit and fell to pieces afterward. It was too much; Camor had passed out by this time. When he awoke he was in his own bed, there was note on his chest and he was alone. Camor opened the note and read aloud to himself. “Dear Camor, looks can be deceiving and magic cannot always be trusted. That was not a real dragon today as I told you, only a tool. You shall keep your word to me and treat others with respect before judgment. If not we shall meet again. Wisdom shall come. Be well, “Wildman” Zebial,” Zebial, Camor wondered aloud to himself, where have I heard that name before?

  Zebial’s magic and clever trickery had done it. He had freed Iezlear. All without alerting Zangonath to the presence of now two free and awakened dragon lords. Zebial had taken control of Iezlear’s guardian and destroyed it without causing a single casualty. Albeit, there were quite a few witnesses, including that boy by the river who didn’t think he was seen. Yet, when all was said and done Zebial considered it quite the success having been his first major magical undertaking in over fifteen hundred years. Iezlear was now in the process of awakening seeing that her guardian was destroyed and the curse removed ahead of schedule. She was taken to the same area Zebial was awakened before her to recuperate. Bultan was of course there to guide Iezlear in her difficult awakening and transition back to life. Zebial flew down and landed next to Iezlear as she opened her eyes for the first time, he leaned in and whispered. “Welcome back sister, our new age is beginning.”

  Skirmishes along the border running between Grazlin and Rozim had been growing more serious in the southwest of the continent. The two neighboring kingdoms have a history of war against one another. Thus, the necessity for the Rozim to build the military border wall of Auzker, however, the siege weapons and destructive ability of the Grazlin had increased greatly since the wall’s original construction. There has been a breach in the southern part of the wall thought caused by the Grazlin military recently. This incident took the area from simple skirmishes to a full blown battle verging on all out war.

  There are two generals on the opposing sides in that southern area of the kingdoms. These generals command large armies far from home out from under the watchful eyes of their kings’ and minders. For all intents and purposes these two generals are kings’ in their own right in the south. Power over life and death lay in their hands. They both suffer from the same disease of the mind causing inflamed ego and the crushing need to be coddled and recognized as great men, yet lacking the qualities great men possess, both having attainted their positions through bribery and nepotism. Due to this arrogance, two days after the breach in the wall there were two armies facing each other ready to settle affairs violently. The Grazlin general claimed that a lone wolf terrorist not even enlisted in the military sabotaged the wall and his men were in no way responsible as this was not a military operation. Saying he therefore, saw this massing of men by Rozim as an attack on Grazlin, he stated they would defend their land. They had fielded twelve thousand men, three thousand of which were cavalry. As for the Rozim general, his declaration stated there was direct evidence the breach was in fact a sanctioned Grazlin military operation carried out using special tactics. Therefore, he also saw this as an attack on Rozim and vowed to defend his homeland with all necessary force. Fielding fifteen thousand men, the Rozim had a slight numerical advantage. However, they possessed no cavalry.

  Such is the nonexistent wisdom of men; let us war and kill one another over fallen stone. As the golden orb of the sun beat down upon the two armies standing in the mid afternoon heat, they remained motionless, banners flapping in the breeze, when there was a breeze. The armor glinting in the sun dazzled the watching eye, creating the illusion of a moving body of water instead of a mass of soldiers. The two generals and their envoys marched out of the body of their armies and proceeded to the middle of the battlefield between the two forces, ready to parlay. As they approached one another they reined their finely decorated horses in and brought them to a halt. The generals would not speak to each other, only exchange icy glances. The Grazlin envoy spoke, “On behalf of the lord marshal of the southern Grazlin army you are hereby ordered to withdraw or face military action.” The Rozim envoy in return unrolled his scroll. “The Grazlin sabotage on the Auzker wall constitutes an act of war, withdraw and rebuild the damage or face military action.” There followed an awkward silence, broken only by the whiny of the horses. After several moments, “It appears we are at an impasse then.” Spoke the Grazlin general. “It would appear so,” replied the Rozim general in kind. There was a further pause of a few seconds as the gravity of the situation began to set in for both generals who had always been more about pomp and show than actual fighting.

  Each general then pulled away with their envoy following and began the march back to their armies. So it would be war, and the blood would flow again today, for no reason other than the madness of men, as it has since the concept of time was created. The generals, from their safe perches gave the signal to move forward, the order moved down the lines from commander to commander. March forward, the time for talk is over and battle is to begin. Left, left, left, clank, clank, the two armies were two metal beasts moving in lockstep towards their mutual destruction due to the fact that two men who were supposed to be their leaders are only children emotionally and mentally, the armies were now barely two hundred yards apart, the Grazlin cavalry was held back. If there had been archers on either side at this particular encounter it would have been less interesting to the two megalomaniac generals. This was to be a clash of infantries.

  There was a deafening roar above the armies, the sun went blood red and the sky darkened in response. The entire world seemed to fade to red. Looking up, the two armies, pompous generals included came to a complete and sudden halt. Two enormous dragons, one red and one blue circled above their heads in a frenzied dance of flight. There was a sound like a crackling whip and in an instant the dragons were on the ground before them, right in the middle of the two armies. The men had never seen anything as large as these
creatures before, more importantly, dragons do not exist! They are a fairy tale, at least they were. When there are two seemingly angry dragons the size of small cities before you, suddenly fairy tales become reality. The armies did not move, not even a sound of metal left their ranks, they were all completely frozen stiff with terror.

  One dragon was almost fifty percent bigger than the other. It was red, a deep penetrating blood red, difficult to look away from. Its size was utterly incomprehensible something from a nightmare; men are simply unable to measure such sizes and time differences in existence accurately. The creases upon its enormous head appeared ancient. Its wings seemed to never end when it stretched them out completely as it let out a scream, breathing smoke and fire from its mouth and nostrils to push the men back for more room. The other dragon stood in total contrast to the large red dragon. It was much smaller, yet still bigger than anything the men had ever seen. Unlike the other menacing dragon that inspired terror, this one seemed to radiate a kindness that appeared as a color, a deep blue. There was a softer quality to this dragon, there was no aggressive roar. Just the quiet confidence that only a long reigning queen would possess, before one word was spoken or any action performed, more than half the men who had been raised on the stories of the four dragon lords dropped their weapons and prostrated themselves crying hysterically. This was not done out of fear, but out of the overwhelming beauty and presence of the shimmering blue dragon. To say it was blue is a terrible oversimplification. Its beauty, the radiance indescribable, one by one the men began to understand this was Iezlear, the mother of the world and the fierce red giant was the first born Zebial. All the tales of the ages are true; cries began to ring out from both sides, each seeming to try to outdo the other. “Mercy, mercy dear Iezlear, she is merciful.” “Silence!” the huge red dragon Zebial spoke, not out loud but in all twenty five thousand of their minds. Immediately the chants stopped, Zebial folded his wings under him and lay down as if a mountain itself had decided to shrink. As he lay down Iezlear stood on her back legs rising to her full height to be seen by all and stretched her wings to their maximum length. She needed the complete attention of the armies, this was a serious matter. The sun seemed to shine only on Iezlear through the clouds as she stood there, wings stretched in all their ancient glory. She sparkled in the sunlight a radiant blue and silver, words cannot describe the colors radiating from her or the feelings she engendered in the men. The weeping men were overcome by what can only be described as her love. There was then a voice within their heads again. “ I am Iezlear, forgive my rude brother Zebial, he has been out of touch with others for some time and never possessed much grace as it was anyhow. “ There was a chuckle throughout the armies as Zebial raised his head towards her. “Why do you gather to use your weapons on each other, do you not know what is coming?” Before she had finished the words Iezlear realized through seeing their minds that these men were completely ignorant of Zangonath’s growing power through his continued mastery of the fog crystal, much less his control over the Eshken. “There is a storm coming dear ones, this storm doesn’t see your differences or care what you call your lands, you are only a disease to be removed in its eyes. The pupil of the long forgotten original lord of evil Zangoath has been growing in magical ability through the fog crystal. Unite and turn your swords north brothers. Gather all men together, let them know this is what awaits if there is delay.” “Behold Zangonath the clouded!” In that moment each mans mind was shown the plan of Zangonath as far as Iezlear understood it briefly. Only the smallest of visions, mortal minds can handle no more.