Lydria
2 - Dragaven
“They mean to free Wynter.” Lydria’s blood ran cold at the thought of the man who had brought such trouble to the north in the company of dragons. “We must warn Keldon.”
“Lydria.” The word came with a strong hand gripping her shoulder as Grettune’s pale face with a cold-reddened nose, came to within inches of her own. “We are high on a mountain and we have no way to reach Keldon. By the time we got to the tree line the dragons would already be in Solwyn. Keldon will do what must be done and when we have finished here, we can go and tend to him and learn what we can. Wynter does not wear a collar and is no threat to us.”
The truth of Grettune’s words were obvious, but Lydria felt Wynter was dangerous still. “Let’s continue – we know now where the dragons enter their mountain, let us see what they have to say.” Lydria gave an un-enthusiastic smile and pulled her scarf back up over her face before following Grettune further up the mountain.
It was past noon by the time they arrived at the mountain entrance. Throughout the day the rumbling ground was their constant companion, but no other dragons took flight despite the fine weather. Outside the entrance they stopped and stared into the darkness, catching unfamiliar odors on the air that came from the vastness under the mountain.
The area outside the cave entrance was large and had been flattened and scorched by fire. The plants that struggled to grow through cracks in the rock were blackened husks. The dragons, it seemed, had made an area suitable for something of their size to land upon, and the women felt exposed and vulnerable on the wide bare surface, so holding each other by the hand for a moment, they stepped across the space and over the cave threshold into the mountain.
Almost at once the air changed and became still and quiet. The enormity of the cave mouth surprised them as they walked down an incline that hid the entrance from below and allowed sunshine to penetrate deep into the rock through the sky-facing opening. The center of the stone passageways was free of debris, with the small branches and rocks pushed to the sides of the cave walls. Occasionally, where the passages were once narrow, the women noticed the way had been opened and they examined the scorch marks on the walls and the small mounds of slag that had fallen to the floor and knocked to the side. Lydria looked to Grettune with wide eyes but neither could guess at how the rocks had been melted to form the corridors.
As they continued down and moved away from the fading sunlight above, the passages became darker, but still wide and easily traveled. Both women conjured small glowing spheres of light that followed just above their heads and with such light made their way safely through the mountain, feeling the temperature rise as they continued a slow descent. The grumblings that had followed them up the mountain were silent now, as if they were robbers in a house where the owner laid awake and in waiting.
“Welcome to Dragaven, home of the … ten. We have been following your steps up the mountain and down into it again. You are welcome to our home.”
The sound entered the thoughts of both Lydria and Grettune smoothly and though it came without warning, neither seemed caught off guard by its arrival. It was a soothing sound, not as deep as the green from outside, but smooth like a still lake. The words were crisp and well-formed and did not betray their speaker as a dragon. There was no malice in the greeting, and it seemed to Lydria, that they were expected.
“Continue your path and you will find us soon. Do not take any path to the side, but make your way here following the large central path. Fear not, you arrive as friends.”
Looking silently at Grettune, Lydria stood up straight. She realized she had been hunched over, as if walking through a small cave. There was no point, she knew, for the dragons were aware of them and it was unlikely any amount of sneaking would be enough to escape the noses of the giant beasts.
Still, as they walked, the women said nothing, each silently wondering what they might find at the path’s end. The green they had spoken with briefly was awe inspiring from outside amidst the majesty of the mountain and sky. What would it be like inside?
Rounding a curve that leveled off, the women were unprepared for the cavern in front of them – an enormous space deeper and taller than their meager lights could reach. They stopped in the entrance and seconds later a tree trunk of orange flame shot forth from deep in the cavern to their left and ignited a large fire in the center of the cavern.
The area was hundreds of feet across and scores of feet high. The roof was a faint outline, and in the distance, there was another entrance to the cavern. But none of that mattered as in the middle of the space they saw ten dragons, who as one, lowered their heads so their massive jaws rested on the floors and their sword-taloned claws curled up invisibly beneath their gigantic bodies. Near their heads rested the tips of scaled tails that slapped lazily onto the floor, causing small tremors under the women’s feet. Toward the middle of the room there was a small raised well, and a pit where the fire cast an orange glow and flickering shadows on the red and blue dragons who lay in a semi-circle, their heads all pointing toward to the well at the center.
A red toward the center, flanked by both red and blue dragons, raised his head slightly, and blinked. “Welcome to Dragaven, Wielders. We normally do not sit so low but thought you might be more comfortable if you could see our eyes and not our claws. We will speak to you directly, for our voices would be terrible for you to hear, even in a whisper.”
It was like speaking with Kimi, but different at the same time. Even speaking non-verbally, Lydria could feel the power of the dragon’s voice pounding at her insides. She realized how hopeless it would be if the dragons were anything but friendly. “Greetings. I am Lydria and this is Grettune, governess of the town of Brookfield which rests at the foot of your home.”
The other dragons raised their heads slightly and greeted the women but left most of the talking to the red who had welcomed them.
“I am Burvig and I was second to Kelmenth in our service to King Ahlric. Who do you serve Lydria? Do you serve Ahlric still, or is there a new king upon the throne by the lake?”
Lydria spent the better part of an hour telling the dragons all that happened since they left Solwyn, and as she spoke, she and Grettune moved slowly around the space, looking at each of the dragons and speaking to all as equals.
When they had finished, Burvig’s tail moved casually and pushed two large flat stones toward the well in the middle of the room, and bade the women sit and prepare themselves food, and take a moment to prepare their camp for the evening.
“We will leave the central fire lit for your light and your food, though it seems you have light enough if you wish,” Burvig said, looking up slightly to where the glowing lights the women had cast earlier still glowed dimly in the firelight and hung above their heads. With a blush, both Lydria and Grettune extinguished their lights and Burvig continued. “The halls of Dragaven are always warm – as is any place a dragon occupies. I know you come with questions, and we will give you what answers we may, but first, I will tell you a story. A story that begins with the rise of the Cobalt Tower.
“When word of Wynter first made it to Wesolk, King Ahlric sent several of us to join this community and learn what we could. We gathered some others as well and by the time the Eifen Nethyal came to us and asked our aide in moving Wynter’s belongings to the rise near the lake, Kelmenth agreed readily. In private, however, he suggested that several of us leave town quietly to see what great thing Wynter would do and alert King Ahlric. We did not heed Kelmenth. We preferred to stay together, and when Wynter came to us early in the morning, he forced us with his magic to stand facing him and we watched as the ice quickly enveloped our feet and ankles and held us fast to the ground. We could not speak nor move, and when the ice rose around us it did so quickly and we thought we would die in moments as the castle rose around us.
“But Wynter’s magic preserved us. We did not feel cold, or hunger, but we were alive. I remember you, Grettune, lookin
g at Kelmenth and asking Wynter whether we still lived. We watched everyone who came to see the pillars. We listened to them, and we began to understand what it was that Wynter was working toward.
“After the arrival of Keldon, it wasn’t long before he and Nethyal began speaking together while Wynter was away. They saw through his schemes and they worked to find a way to keep him from his ambitions. It was a great source of comfort to us when they began discussing their plans for deposing Wynter – they gave us hope that we might die at last, rather than suffer for decades or centuries in our prisons.
“Then one day, Wynter approached us and began an enchantment we felt at once. We knew he had done something to us, and that we were changing, but we could not move nor see. The magic that infused the castle prevented our minds from madness and as it seeped through the ice and into us, we were able to see and understand magic so that when Wynter provided us each a stone, we tapped into its power quickly. After watching Kelmenth dispatched by the giant, we stayed in our pillars and felt Wynter’s undoing. When we were left alone, we escaped and flew to this mountain and made it our home.
“At first, we were bitter. Held against our will and turned into some creature from beyond our dreams. The greens retain their bitterness and seek out Wynter to undo what has been done. They do not believe us when we tell them it cannot be undone. Our new bodies are strong - so strong we could rule Eigrae with ease and none would stand before the combined might of the ten of us. Not even you, wielder. But our minds and hearts have shown us that this is not the path we should take and so we have decided to bend our thoughts toward learning what the world can teach us and seeing what new gifts might reveal themselves within our new forms. To that end, we have found that amidst our considerable power, we can speak with any of the creatures of Eigrae. And we have found there are many creatures to speak with, including some that are neither man nor dragon and are entirely new and unique to Eigrae.”
Grettune took the dragon’s pause as an opportunity to ask a question which had been teasing the sides of her thoughts for some time and only just formed as she opened her mouth to ask. “Burvig, why do you tell us now? What have you seen that you would sit with us when you could have done this at any time, speaking to us as you do from far away?”
“I told you the red haired one would not dance around Burvig. She gets to the heart of things and well so. Tell her.” A blue dragon had lifted its head while speaking and lowered it again, closing one eye and leaving the other trained on Grettune for a moment before closing it as well.
Burvig hesitated and was met by a chorus of “tell her” from the other dragons, before he continued. “We believe, although we are not certain, that our time may be limited. There may come a time when we will fully assume our dragon identities. It is just a feeling, perhaps, but where you now see ten men and women in the bodies of dragons, soon you may find ten dragons. We do not know what this will mean for us, or for you. Perhaps nothing will change, but the greens believe it will and that is why they freed Wynter. They are grasping at straws.
“Can we help you Burvig? Is there something we can do?” Lydria did not believe she would be able to help, but she felt it was proper to ask, and she believed Burvig would answer honestly.
“No, wielders, there is nothing your magic can do. For my own part, I do not believe we will be bereft of our past, but the Greens are convinced our fate is sealed. For the ten of us, we are content. As humans we worked and toiled to gain power and position. Now, as dragons, we are the most powerful creatures on Eigrae, and we would work to be left alone to seek not power or position, but knowledge. There are other creatures we have seen in the woods and by the shores of lakes. Creatures who have much in common with us but are unlike us in many ways. As wielders, you have a special place in Eigrae and you must judge each creature based on their heart and their actions, and not their countenance.
“We tell you our story, so you may share it, and so we might be left in peace. Since arriving here, we have hunted far away from humans, Eifen, and the other creatures who live together in towns such as yours. We desire to be part of this world, but apart from it. Those who wear the collar and who come in peace will be welcome always. Those who do not, we will attempt to discourage, and those who come with malice, we will destroy. Sleep now and we will speak again tomorrow.”
The next day Lydria and Grettune discussed magic with the dragons, and how the magic of animals and dragons differed from that of men; they learned something of the lands surrounding Wesolk, and about how vast Eigrae really was, stretching far beyond the Eastern Sea, and far beyond the forests of the west. After spending a second night in the caverns, Burvig brought the women to the top of the mountain once more as the morning sun shone brightly onto the woods of the west.
“It is time for us to part, wielders. Know that we will watch over Brookfield and in turn, look to you to watch over us. We would prefer to not take sides in the scheming of men. It means little to us, but we have discussed what we have seen and together, the ten have decided that you should know the greens have succeeded in their misguided mission. They have taken Wynter far away from your lands. We can no longer hear their voices and there is no way to know which way the winds have taken them, but we feel that Wynter is still a threat to Eigrae, and while he may regain his power one day, his path is not your own, not yet.
“The coming of magic into the world usurps the natural laws of men, the balance that greed and good create. Eigrae will not long allow for such unbalance.”
The women thanked Burvig and turned to begin their march down the mountainside, repeating their vow to honor the peace between dragons and humans.
“Thank you, wielders. I hope I will recognize you when you return.”
Lydria could feel Burvig watch them move down the slope and when they reached an area with something like a path, she felt his footsteps beat their way into the mountain.
Late the next day, the wielders were startled to hear a different voice – not inside them but in the air below them. Scanning the trail below, they saw a small figure wave his hands, and while they saw him yell toward them, they couldn’t hear his words. The figure dropped his hands and started running up the stony path. Something in his gait made Lydria sure she had seen him before and the wielders raced down the path as fast as they dared.
As the three people neared each other, they felt the mountain shake again. Lydria and Grettune understood the shaking as the dragons talking, but the new arrival stood still and looked at the ground as if he expected it to swallow him.
The women began walking down as quickly as possible and soon saw the man running up the hill. For a long time, the man ran and walked, but he never stopped moving toward them. For their part, they continued moving as fast as possible until they reached him, and he took only a moment to catch his breath.
“I have been searching for you and hope I am not too late.” Hunched over, with his hands on his hips, his ears pointed forward to catch the sounds coming from the mountain, stood an Eifen who was bruised and bloody. His clothes were torn, and he carried no weapon save a clumsy steel knife.
“Relin.” Lydria gasped. “What’s happened?”
Codex of the Prime Wielder
The Dragons and the Nature of Magic
Burvig, the leader of the dragons who lives in the caverns atop the Frostspine, known as Dragaven, must have powerful magic. From our conversation we know the dragons can smell Farn’Nethyn, and they knew I had been in possession of the stone and had carried it with me for a time – although I did not have it with me in the mountains.
Burvig, in fact said, “This blade you carried is made from a stone largely unknown to the men of Wesolk, or even the deserts to the south. But there exists a balance in Eigrae, a balance that is upset because of these collars we wear. As magic exists, so must exist its opposite, which has been in Eigrae for centuries – what you call Farn’Nethyn. While I can sense the stone, and even to what form it took upon you, more than this
I cannot say – only that when we approach the stone, we are less than we are, so we are wary of it.”
Much of our time in Dragaven was spent discussing the nature of magic and specifically how the dragons and other creatures use it. While creatures like Kimi, cannot as far as we are aware, cast a spell in the same way a human does, their magic comes as naturally as eating. Dragons can speak with any living thing of Eigrae. They are obviously formidable in the traditional sense, but Burvig believes he could beguile a human-kind simply by looking at him, or that he could approach as noiselessly as a flea. That dragons can cast strong magic is undeniable, and together with their size and strength, makes them the fiercest creatures on Eigrae.
Wynter made the dragons and in so doing he has undone one of magic’s basest limitations. As you are no doubt aware, magic cannot be used directly to kill. But dragons are magic, and there has never been made a finer weapon for killing.
Burvig has invited us to return so that we may continue to get to know each other but said of that meeting only, “There are things we have seen as we sleep that involve your kind – things that also involve our kind – and show us a day where we will work closely together. For now, we must think on this dream.”
Lydria
3 - Relin’s Arrival
“I didn’t know where else to go, so I returned north to find you and seek the only assistance I knew.” Relin was sitting by a fire far down the slopes of the mountain amidst the trees. For hours after meeting Lydria and Grettune, he would not talk, but insisted they make haste down the mountain, and the wielders expedited their movement with magic that made their limbs strong and helped carry them down quickly. With another few days of normal walking they would be in Brookfield.
“Wae Ilsit is taken along with Eifen who marched with him to the west. As we made our way south, perhaps a week distance from the southern shore of the Great Lake, through lands we believed were safe. The Qorghal, those we have called the marshmen or rargal, in the past, who long ago inhabited the swamp lands further south and west, have made a home in that area and allow none to pass.” Despite his long march to reach Lydria, Relin was still shaken as he described the sounds of the Qorghal as they fell upon the Eifen.
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