Chronicles of Den'dra: A land on Fire

by Spencer Johnson

  “Cero?” Urake moved to the figure who nodded quietly. He didn’t remember the lad having left the cave. Being awake, he expected that he would have heard at least something.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Neither can I. Bad dreams?” Urake sat down and shifted his cloak to pad a sharp rock in the cave wall.

  “Yes and no. I was able to sleep a little, but had a dream about being trapped in a hollow rock. After that, the sun came up and the rocks crumbled and I was free. Now, I'm just not tired. I feel like I could go on right now, but they would probably all be upset. What is your excuse?” Cero nodded towards the darkness within the cave when he mentioned people being upset.

  “I just haven't been able to sleep for the last few days. I'm not sure, but I think that it could be because of Ice Heart.”

  “Ice Heart?” Cero looked up, his eyes catching the dim light and almost giving the appearance of glowing that crystal blue. It struck Urake that the sword had glowed nearly the same shade.

  “It is a sword that I found years ago. Dwarven forged, but there is something else about it.” Urake pulled the sword free from its sheath on his back. Cero suddenly began inspecting it with intense concentration.

  “Skeln’den’hal dov savaro ensafar onwathy spawn gar’as.”

  “What was…? I think I will take that back.” Urake lifted Ice Heart out of Cero’s hands.

  “It sort of tingles and feels cold at the same time when you touch it.” Cero was rubbing his fingers absently, but Urake though that he saw a mild glow the same shade of color as Cero’s eyes emanating from the fingertips.

  “It does more than that. What did you say?” Urake returned Ice Heart to the sheath.

  “I said that Ice Heart is an impressive blade and that it looks dwarven made and deadly. Something wrong?” Cero saw the concern that was in Urake’s face.

  “You said it in another language. You also called it the same name as the elves did. Also, how would you know what a dwarven weapon looks like?” Urake inquired with a raised eyebrow.

  “I did? Sorry. I have been told that I speak the old tongue when I'm asleep. When did you meet the elves?” Urake narrowed his eyes when he noticed that Cero had attempted to shift the conversation away from the topic of the dwarves. He recognized the behavior from Cero’s childhood as a tactic to avoid talking about something he would rather keep secret.

  “I will make a deal. You tell me about the dwarves and I will tell you about the elves.” Urake heard something and turned just in time to see Inadar step out of the cave mouth.

  “I'm sorry. I hadn’t realized that anyone was out here.”

  “It’s all right. Couldn’t sleep either?” Cero smiled up at the girl.

  “Never could sleep much. It doesn’t help that there are four guys snoring up a storm in there. Much louder and they would bring the mountain down.” Inadar paused as if she was uncertain what to do.

  “I understand completely. Want to come join us?” Urake laughed as Inadar reacted by shrinking back.

  “Don’t worry. We don’t bite. If we are going to work together, then we should get to trust each other. Unless of course, you are planning on leaving us.” Urake’s probe struck Inadar in a tender point eliciting a flinch and a grimace almost hidden in the dim light.

  “We promised to work for you.” Inadar moved out and sat next to them in a display of bravado intended to convince Urake that his suspicions were unfounded.

  “That is what you promised. What I want is to know if I can trust you and Torroth.” Urake watched as Inadar tried to think of something to say. She glanced up and saw Cero. Her jaw worked for a moment before she gave up.

  “We were going to but…”

  “But what? I won’t hold it against you.” Urake smiled at Inadar who was still staring at Cero.

  “But… You scare us too much.” Urake then realized that Inadar was terrified now. There was no way that the girl would have said what she did without some form of compulsion. She was still staring at Cero.

  “Cero, look at me. Ask me anything you want.”

  “What?”

  “Ask me anything you want.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think that I can resist answering honestly.” Urake frowned.

  “All right. Why are you an assassin?” Urake blinked and shook his head. He found he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cero’s startling blue eyes that suddenly seemed to be glowing in the dim light.

  “I… I… My family was… murdered.” Urake struggled helplessly unable to overcome the overwhelming impulse to tell the truth.

  “Who is your family?” Cero interrogated ruthlessly.

  “House… Saf… Safrym. Stop it Cero!”

  “One more then I will be done. Are you my father?” Urake struggled for a second before giving in.

  “No. I am not your father. I found you in the woods nearly fifteen years ago and raised you as my own.” When Cero blinked in surprise, Urake was able to break the effect and look away.

  “How can you do that? I couldn’t lie.” Inadar took pains to avoid looking at Cero.

  “Neither could I and I have been training at blocking people out of my mind for years. By the way Inadar, if you decide to leave, I won’t come hunting you. I would prefer that you stay here with us, but only if you can learn to trust us. Can you do that?”

  “I can… try. I should go back in now.”

  “Unless you are tired, I don’t see why you should. You already know more about me than most people.” Inadar settled back down uncomfortably.

  “How come I never heard of house Safrym?” Cero inquired.

  “Because I am the last surviving member of the house. At the end of the Clan Wars, a group called the Shadow Order killed my entire family. That is the reason I became an assassin.”

  “How did I come into the picture?” After Cero’s question Urake paused until he realized that he wasn’t feeling compelled.

  “I made a mistake and needed to hide out, then I found you in the woods that day. I loved you like a son. I just wanted to keep you safe, then those soldiers came. I couldn’t let Reigns get his hands on you so I became the Asgare again.” Inadar listened uncomfortably to the exchange.

  “What about you Inadar?” The girl jumped as Urake addressed her.

  “Is… Is your name actually Urake?”

  “It is Uraken. Lord Sir Uraken. Son of Ermor, head of house Safrym.” Both Cero and Inadar looked impressed.

  “So if I am adopted, what does that make me?” Cero asked inquisitively.

  “Only a handful of people know that you are adopted. To everyone else, you are my son. The heir to house Safrym. For what it is worth. My lands are held by other people and the only wealth that I have is hidden in a tavern or some cave. Then there is that floorboard in Shienhin… So Inadar, who are you? Don’t look at her Cero.”

  “I'm no one, just a girl from a village that is a long way from home.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Urake mused with a distant look up at the constellations overhead.

  “I'm a boy so not quite, but I think that I know what you mean.” Cero laughed.

  “What is going on?” Emeck appeared rubbing his eyes.

  “Sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you up.”

  “No it wasn’t you. I didn’t know that anyone could snore as loud as Arken can. Then I sensed Urake out here. Can’t sense either of you two though. I hope that I'm not intruding.” Emeck sat down on an exposed rock nearby and pulled his blanket around his shoulders. “Aren’t you cold? It’s freezing out here. At least Arken keeps it warm inside.”

  “What do you mean when you said you sensed us?” Inadar cautiously asked.

  “Emotions and locations most the time, but sometimes I can get thoughts. You are like Cero for some reason. Except… what is that sensation?” Emeck looked at Inadar curiously.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “You are lying. You are a telepath… in some fa
shion. I can see things. Like flying. I can see images of flying. Not you flying, something else is doing the flying. How is that possible?”

  “It’s all right Emeck. She is working through some trust issues right now so don’t push her.” Urake gave Emeck a warning look.

  “I'm a Dragon Lord and I can thought speak with dragons! That is what I am. Are you satisfied now? Do you think I trust you enough?”

  “A Dragon Lord? What is that?” Cero asked inquisitively.

  “How am I supposed to know? That is all the dragons ever told me.” Inadar fumed until she realized what she was saying.

  “Now you have no choice but to trust us. It is probably Niman’s fault. Arken must have woken him and from what I am feeling, he must be a little upset.” Urake saw Inadar pale a little before swallowing.

  “What are you doing out here then?” Cero asked.

  “I'm looking for something. The dragons told me to find a soul forged blade. One that the old Dragon Lords used to carry. There is also supposed to be another Dragon Lord, but I don’t know where to begin looking.” Inadar had reached the point where she didn’t have anything else to lose. None of the assembled people were angry with her and Cero hadn’t tried to force the information. She had volunteered it, albeit in a moment when she had lost her temper. It was the first time she could remember ever having done so.

  “Soul forged blades. Are those like dwarven blades?” Urake asked this question with a glance at Cero.

  “I know that they were made by dwarves.” Inadar responded hopefully.

  “What about this one?” Urake drew Ice Heart and handed it to Inadar handle first.

  “Savaro ensafar. Entack Skeln’den’hal?” Inadar looked up and frowned at all the astonished expressions.

  “I will be taking that back.” Urake took the sword back.

  “Was it something I said?”

  “You could say that.” Emeck laughed.

  “What was wrong with what she said?” Cero looked confused.

  “Well you tell me.” Emeck was looking at Cero with the same expression he had just used on Inadar.

  “Beautiful blade. Is this Ice Heart? What is wrong with that?” Now everyone but Inadar was looking at Cero with a confused expression.

  “What language was she speaking and where did you learn it?” Emeck inquired in astonishment.

  “I don’t understand?”

  “She was speaking the ancient tongue like you were when you held the blade.” Urake pointed out.

  “What are you all doing out here? It’s freezing!” Niman stumbled out of the cave rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

  “Can’t sleep with Arken snoring.” Cero told a half-truth with a smile.

  “Now ain’t that the truth. How dangerous would it be to take off now? We might be able to get far enough away before Arken wakes up that he won’t be able to catch up.” Niman’s suggestion was met with laughter.

  Chapter Seven: Connections

  “I had no idea that there were this many rebels in Underheim.” Taric ducked behind a boulder as a large rock narrowly missed his head.

  “Technically, they call themselves Purifiers. Rebels is just what we call them because it is a fitting name for how they started.” Seeroth ducked behind the same boulder to catch his breath.

  “Technically? That doesn’t negate the fact that they outnumber us!”

  “I should have known that they would be escalating their numbers.” Seeroth peeked back around the boulder at the chaos that surrounded them.

  “Then let’s get out there and start reducing their numbers.” Taric tested the straps that held the hammers to his wrists in preparation.

  “I'm not as young as I used to be. You get back out there and I will finish catching my breath.” Taric rolled his eyes and leaped out at a Purifier that was trying to sneak past the city watch's lines. After escaping the first assault, the band of dwarves under Seeroth’s command had hurried through the tunnels until they found one that returned to the city. They had more than doubled their party size at the guard post and proceeded to attack the rebels from the back. The surprise attack was a success until more rebels had arrived and surrounded the city guard.

  Under Seeroth’s leadership, they had broken free and made for another guard post only to discover that it had already fallen to the rebels. There had been little more than a token force left guarding the prisoners they held. These had originally been the guards defending their post. Once these men were freed, the troop had been forced to abandon the guard post and return to the tunnels. This time the gate hadn’t closed properly and the rebels had followed. They were still under the impression that the Dragon Lord was being protected by the guards.

  “Charge!” Seeroth caught his breath and rejoined the fray. A rebel hurled a good sized rock at the advancing dwarf who used his mace to redirect the rock. The surprised rebel that took the rock in his face guard went down bonelessly. The dwarves following Seeroth’s impromptu charge began yelling loud enough to make the walls reverberate. Several of the undisciplined rebels began a disorderly retreat, but enough had been trained in the art of battle that the line held and repulsed the city guards.

  Seeroth stepped back from the lines of struggling dwarves and surveyed the battlefield. They were outside the city in a widened section of the tunnels and they hadn’t been able to gain ground since the clash had begun. Both sides were about equally matched. Seeroth’s men were better trained, but the Purifiers had greater numbers to compensate for the fact that most the men had little weapon training.

  A flash caught the old dwarf’s eye when Taric’s armor began shining. At first, seeing the way Taric faltered, he feared that the young dwarf had been injured until he howled in rage and dashed into the thick of the fighting. A dwarven women under his command began muttering in the ancient tongue before she too rushed forward. He caught sight of her eyes and found them to be glowing a deep green instead of the blue that he had seen in Taric’s eyes in the past.

  Seeroth watched in astonishment as the two dwarves, moving faster than he knew possible, decimated the rebel forces. Both seemed imbued with super dwarven strength. Rebels were flying indiscriminately whenever they found themselves in either’s grasp. Taric’s armor reached a blinding intensity a moment before it burst into flame. The flame wreathed figure danced through the confused Purifier ranks spreading chaos as he went. The dwarven woman was no less impressive, but more graceful in her movements. At times, she would plow through a mass of soldiers with her shield and at other times would engage in an elaborate dance like sequence of pirouettes, evasions, and attacks fitting for someone half the stocky woman’s girth. Seeroth could see streams of what looked like fog following her movements. He thought they were steam until a dwarf, struck in the breastplate with her mace, landed at his feet. The dented breastplate was covered in frost leaves growing outward from the impact point.

  With a terrible roar the two dwarves charged the last line of rebels. The one whose footsteps were painted in frost and the other aflame. The rebels were rightly intimidated and promptly broke and ran, but found that the two pursuing dwarves could move at speeds far faster than they could hope to attain. Seeroth’s remaining dwarves had been watching in astonishment as their battle was won by the two of their number. At the retreat of the rebels, they came to their senses and took up pursuit. Their work was done for the most part. The battle was won and the rebels in Underheim were defeated. It was a few minutes before Seeroth managed to catch up with the two dwarves that had won the day as they looked in confusion around at the rebels strewn about.

  ***

  Urake was pleased to note that the midnight conversation had drawn his group together. Only Arken had been absent from the gathering. Niman’s Gift seemed to have alleviated the feelings of exhaustion and reduced the amount of sleep that was required by those that actually seemed to need sleep. Torroth had appeared a short time after Niman and Aleest had joined them a few minutes later. They had shared stories unti
l the morning began to break on the horizon, were far more comfortable in each other’s company, and seemed overall to be in good humor. This might have been partly due to the jovial mood that Niman settled into as soon as he had gotten comfortable, but whatever the reason, Urake was sure that no longer was anyone in abject terror of his reputation.

  When the sun had risen enough to continue, they had packed up and eaten a little dried food before setting out again. Kosovo knew of a tunnel that circumvented the steepest and most dangerous of the high peaks. It took a couple hours to traverse the cave but with Cero’s magic glowing rock leading the way, they didn’t have any difficulty. Exiting the other side of the mountain was a surreal experience. There were sheer rock walls that climbed up to razor thin ridges far above. The very sight was daunting. Of course, it was possible to find a valley that allowed one easier passage through the rocky profiles rather than simply climbing over. It would have taken days perhaps to find the valley in the wastelands of perpetual winter so the knowledge of the cave was invaluable. Urake resolved to include directions to its location in his next correspondence with the Princess’ men.

  While they were still in the cave, a mysterious malady had overtaken both Cero and Inadar at the same time. They had apparently fallen asleep. The magic rock had never stopped glowing, but the two were senseless. Nothing got the slightest response until they had both awakened at the same time. Two strange things had been noted during the duration of the event. The first having been what could be taken as the sounds of a battle when one stood near a crack in the cave wall. The other had been that both Cero and Inadar’s eyes had been glowing slightly. Cero’s a light blue and Inadar’s a deep green. This last fact Urake kept to himself. When the two had woken, they remembered only fragments of something they described as a battle. With no way to explain the happening, they attempted to forget it as they continued their journey.

  After leaving the tunnel through the pass, they found night had overtaken them. The tenth day after entering the Garoche heights, they left the snow above and discovered that they had a view of lake Cerveza. A little lower and they found the headwaters for the river that fed the lake. It was an incredible sight. The river appeared to just flow out of the ground. In one spot there was dry ground. A few paces further and the ground was wet. A dozen paces farther and you could be standing knee deep in the river. After admiring the sight, they took the southern side and proceeded south towards Warton.