by Karleigh Bon
Roevash was sickened beyond belief, and his empty gut started to retch. He turned over on his hands and knees to hang his head down, trying not to spew in the closed mask.
“Your body is hungry,” the voice said, “our Lord has been gone a long time.”
Roe turned his head towards the voice and could see sideways through the tiny hole. In the dim light, he saw a young, pale man in red robes sitting on a bench against the far wall. He was free to escape his fate, but he stayed.
“What madness!” Roe’s mind reeled in disgust. Then he saw the glint of a key hanging around a thin chain on the cultist’s neck.
“Bring me sustenance as I command,” Roe tried to sound convincing as he rose up in his chains.
“My Lord, You have returned? The time is now?” The young man stood from his seat.
“Come to me... sate my hunger!” Roe spoke firmly to the young man, reaching his hands out to receive him.
“My lord,” he ran, smiling in ecstasy to his fate.
Roevash easily broke his skinny neck.
“Lords forgive you for your ignorance in life,” Roe said grimly, shaking his head at the insanity of it.
He took the key off the body and unlocked the monstrous collar and wrist shackles. He set them quietly on the floor so as not to alert the guards.
Assessing the situation, Roevash wondered to himself how he was going to get out of this. He thought of Naalin’s escape, and now he knew of Fionna escape. He too would get out of this place and go far from the dragon’s influence. Looking for a disguise, he picked up the red robe and tried to put it on. The cloth was ridiculously tight on his large frame and shoulder muscles. Then, in sudden realization, he chuckled to himself. With a twisted smile, he quickly tore the robe in half and wrenched it off his body. He threw it in two directions onto the floor and snarled.
“I am the Dragon Lord…” he laughed hysterically in utter madness.
Without hesitation, he walked with all authority out of the unlocked dungeon door. Roe bellowed into the hallway. Noise went up from his followers heralding their master’s return.
None dared approach his countenance as he stalked naked out into his kingdom. Roe sneered and pulled a weapon off one creature as he shoved another out of his way.
Roevash was well over twice the size of any goblin. Even the ogre generals were only the stature of average humans. He towered over them by a whole head and shoulders.
“These types of creatures only understood one thing, strength is power.” Roevash most certainly was the big dog here. If they pressed in too close, he started grabbing and breaking a few necks.
His long black hair was grossly coated in dried blood. It hung thick over his shoulders like a lion’s wiry mane. He slapped a handful of filth down the side of his face and chest, marking himself and growling in disgust. The goblins clamored for more as he walked steadily forward.
The last time the Dragon Lord was present four priests and thirty-three women and men died savagely in his bare hands. Roe didn’t know this because, thankfully, he had been blinded in darkness during the raving of Surmanos and his dragon. Roevash only wanted to get to an exit before it was too late. His new priests saw him coming and quickly called for his robes.
“Take me to my chambers,” he frowned, and the mute ones dressed him in silks and led him away.
Roevash tried not to look at anything or make eye contact as he scowled and stalked forward.
“It would be a mercy to set this place to the torch and flame, killing everything,” but then he realized it was all stone and would not burn enough.
"The whole mountain must come down upon it,” he snarled to himself, glancing upward as they led him through the iron gates into his palace.
+++
After this temporary setback, and loss of his breeding stock, the fallen one finding solace in his dragon body, flew back to its nest in the Dovah Mountains to the southeast. He was going to rally an army of his dragon-kin. With dragon fire, quick, massive destruction of the lands of the north would give him the foothold he needed to continue his reign.
Lord Surmanos never agreed to or liked the creation of the shining self-righteous elves. He spent his entire existence killing and corrupting the ones he could capture, and fighting with the ones who ran free under the protection of Ilmatar Lords. That all happened many centuries before when he was in his original divine and beautiful Lordly form. He was a revered Lord of Ilmatar. He should have been High King, but that battle had gone on for a millennium of lifetimes.
At the end of the Second Age, the damnable free elven armies descended upon his fortress in Ilmatar and lay waste to his Lordship there.
“They tried to proclaim judgment upon ME!” Surmanos howled indignantly.
He had to cast himself away from the grasp of Ilmatar into the physical, mortal realm, to avoid punishment for his influence among men. His lordly substance throughout time has since been diminished further with every failed treachery. The fall of his last tower in the barren Ajattara Fells, at the end of the third age, tangled his existence with the dragons.
“I would still be a mindless dragon if it were not for the Shadow cult leader who woke me. I must reward them when this is over.” Lord Surmanos chuckled at his freedom now; to take a different form. He had to admit, the elven bodies were powerful and resilient compared to a human, and in this case, the half breed made a superior vessel. He knew the flesh would wear out and breakdown eventually so he would have to make another.
Each time he came back into the dragon, it was harder to leave the more desirable human-shaped body behind. He liked the superior size and musculature of the half-breed among men. How easily he could inflict pain with just his bare hands! He wanted the carnal pleasures the body afforded his senses.
It did cross his mind that this powerful drive came from the dragon blood that was now part of him. Regardless of origin, it gave him all he desired in this return to his kingship.
“The filthy Edhellen are all gone away,” he snickered to himself, “...and the she-elf sisters… they will ensure my dynasty, even if I have to break them, and keep them in chains forever.”
What Surmanos did not know is in the lands of the dragons, many dragon-kin had recently fallen to dwarven foes in their ongoing disputes concerning gold and shiny things dug out of the mountains.
The dragons were gathered in their leader’s lair discussing their next attack when the black drake landed on the edge of the opening of the cave. His giant sire rushed him and pounced as if he were merely a mouse. Encircling his neck with his sharp talons, the king of dragons stretched it out painfully as he spoke, “Why have you come crawling back here to those you have abandoned? Death has found many dragon-kin today in my son’s absence."
The king glared at the hatchling prince with cold dragon eyes.
“I was drawn by blood lust,” Surmanos snarled.
“Men worship me!” He hissed indignantly as he was being throttled.
“We have no business with men!” His sire shook him again and dropped him harshly.
“I am a dragon, and I am also high Lord Surmanos of Ilmatar. My divine nature compels me,” he tried to sound impressive.
The giant one exhaled, shooting flames across his scales. It meant disapproval in dragon-speak. The black drake floundered as he tried to stand up on all four legs in the firestorm of his sire's breath.
“I have come to ask your help in taking back my kingdom to the north…” he wasn’t allowed to finish his plea.
“You are dragon!” The giant one clawed him aside viciously, turning his back on him.
“Dragons belong here. There is NO kingdom beyond these borders!”
Surmanos realized now he was not going to influence the dragon-kin in his favor. The cold eyes of the dragon assembly just stared emotionlessly, mocking him.
“I will kill you... kill you all…” Surmanos hissed venomously.
“Your days upon this mountain are numbered,” he growled; fearfully
backing away.
His giant sire’s eyes turned upon him for another attack. This time it would be more than just a severe warning. The black drake quickly jumped out of the opening to escape his sire’s wrath. Stretching out his wings, he bolted towards his blood lair to the north. The giant one did not bother following him. Nor did the King of Dragons take the small black drake’s threats seriously. He snorted sadly, and scowled at his hatchling as he turned back to his council.
Lord Surmanos would somehow rid the lands, and himself, of all dragon kind. He savored the thought as his mind reeled in madness.
The long flight to get here took all his energy, and here he was flying back with nothing. A herd of deer sparked his hunger. He pounced down upon them to eat a meal and renew himself. He could not quell the feeling of defeat that was creeping over him as he ate.
“I will not be made to feel weak,” He snarled. He had found a perfect solution to his problem in the half-elf. He need only to rule his followers. Let them do his bidding.
“Failure is not an option this time,” Lord Surmanos said with determination as he soared back up into the sky.
Contrite Heart
Chapter Forty Seven
Fionna and Eijlam did not run straight to Ettenfahls for fear they could be traced back to where they had just come. Instead, they traveled through the swamps along the southern coastline of Ainghaille.
“We can cut across to Illianheni and then north along the river,” EJ said. He thought it would be nice to place a wreath of flowers on his mother’s marker in the small cemetery there.
Fionna didn’t mind the journey as long as she was with him.
“We need to take some time to rest and eat,” he added sensibly.
Fionna knew he was right. They were in top physical condition, but they taxed themselves beyond their limits sometimes.
“I am hungry,” she said as she slowed her pace.
EJ dug some cloth wrapped weybread out of his pouch. Looking at the last chunk in his hand, he said, “What I would give for a fish or a roast rabbit right now.” He winked at her as he took a small bite off the corner and then handed the rest over.
“You love your mother’s weybread,” Fionna reminded him as she swallowed a piece with their last full sip of water. The sun was broiling hot as it started sinking to the west. Fionna handed him back the small wrapped package for safe keeping.
“Good thing the river is near,” he shook out the last drops of moisture into his mouth from the empty water pouch. He could see Fionna was tired, so he took her hand to them to keep both going. He knew they would find welcome shelter near the old gardens.
It was getting dark as they passed by Eldelórne. They were both too afraid to get caught up in that again, so they did not linger there.
The old ranger outpost was straight ahead. That’s where the couple would stop and hopefully snare something to cook. When EJ and Fionna finally arrived, they saw there were fresh flowers placed carefully on the graves by the rocky outcrop.
“Hold!” EJ said in her mind. “It could be anyone or a trap. Think of Elgelion. We must protect ourselves for the sake of him at all costs.” Fionna nodded in agreement as they readied their blades.
As they crept through the secret stone passage they saw him. EJ and Fionna stopped in the shadows watching from a safe distance at the familiar figure of Roevash down in the spring. He was soaking himself. He seemed to be alone. The sacred pool was surrounded by sheer rock walls that opened to the starry sky high above. Small trees and brush filled in around the rough edges, making it a beautiful hidden sanctuary just outside the entrance to the old ranger outpost. They could smell the strong scent of the cultist’s cavern in the air.
“How is it the mighty Dragon Lord is found here in this place?” Eijlam’s voice boomed out of nowhere as his words echoed off the high cliffs of the surrounding rock.
Roevash instinctively jumped to his feet with his knife ready. One of Fionna’s blades flew past him grazing his weapon hand. His knife dropped, clanging across the rocks behind him. He smiled, and half reeled around to see where they had landed, but thought better of it and just let out a little snicker as he looked down at bleeding fingers.
“Speak!” Eijlam demanded again.
“I am your brother, Roevash! It is truth I share with you now,” he shook his head and sat down again in the water, choosing to ignore the encounter.
“I taught you both well... Fionna, you dropped your blade,” he gestured without looking over his shoulder where it landed. He stared directly where the attack originated. Fionna felt a chill as he seemed to be looking right at her.
“Yes, I know you are here too,” he said ominously, but then he leaned back in the water, chuckling madly. “But why would you not be,” he breathed out with a sigh.
Ej realized she had given away their position by her actions. There was nothing that slipped past Roe’s quick mind even in his weakened state, so there was no point in hiding anymore. They advanced slowly out of the shadows toward the pool.
“I can not get the stench of it off me...” Roe whined.
They could see tears etched down his half stained face. His hair was washed free from all the blackened blood that had once encrusted it. Roevash was turned silver-gray from the stress of being possessed. The pair watched as he continued to wash himself, babbling strangely. Fionna’s heart broke, and she wanted to run to him.
“No! Not yet…” EJ held her sleeve, and she froze.
“I am never going to be clean from what I was made to do,” Roevash yelled up into the stars, and more tears washed down his cheeks. “…Never…never, never,” he whispered, looking down at the water for the moment before dunking himself under to rewash his face again.
“I am trying to decide if I should drown myself with the help of my dagger," Roe said in an eerie calm voice as he reemerged to the surface, and stared at the couple. Then he cackled madly to himself again, looking up to the stars.
“I am such a coward. I could have helped plunge the blade into my own heart... I let her fail. For that, she must hate me now...” he looked heartbroken as he spoke. "What a thing to demand of her…" he shook his head hopelessly.
Fionna and Eijlam looked at each other. “Is he speaking of my sister,” Fionna asked. EJ could only shrug his shoulders.
“Maybe you could do it for me nîn hawn?” Roe looked strangely at Eijlam, begging for the true death. He held his wrists upward for the slashing cut.
“End this misery,” he cried.
“I almost believe you,” Eijlam said softly.
The pair relaxed and sheathed their weapons at the same time as if they were of one mind. Roevash’s face lit up with delight.
“I am so proud of you both,” he smiled in genuine satisfaction.
“Look at you now ... beautiful and perfect Edhellen. Deadly and beautiful… oh, I just said that,” Roe frowned, looking down at the dirty water he was sitting in.
After a long pause of struggling in his own mind to speak, he pleaded with them, “The dragon would seek to possess you ... promise me you would kill yourselves first if he ever tries, do not hesitate!” Roe refused to use the name of the real culprit in this, Lord Surmanos, for fear it would somehow conjure him into the room. His face screwed up in horror at the memory of it. Just as abruptly as he started, he stopped and glared at them in complete madness. EJ’s skin crawled at the sound of his brother’s words, and the hackles stood upon his neck, seeing the expression on Roe’s face.
“Get out of the water and come with us inside,” Eijlam said firmly. The giant Roevash obediently stood up. Water drained off his body as he walked naked in front of them into the outpost. He seemed docile enough, but EJ didn’t trust that he wouldn’t transform at any given moment. He would not take that chance.
Fionna rummaged around in an old chest and found Roe some clothes that were leftovers from past owners who had lived there.
“We need to burn the stinking rags downstairs,” Roe said as
he dressed, “they will track us down if you do not.”
He suddenly got a distant look in his eyes and spoke in a calm lifeless monotone. “I am sorry I sullied the sacred pool.”
“I am going to bind your hands' brother if you do not mind," EJ said as he pulled his elven rope out of his pack.
“I do not mind,” Roevash looked submissively at his brother.
“I would not trust me either,” his low voice rumbled as he spoke.
Roe voluntarily backed up to the stone detainment wall where he knew captured prisoners would be kept. He put his arms up against the steel rings that were embedded there to demonstrate how it worked. There was a thin ledge for sitting or laying down that ran along the length of the wall so Roe could rest if he wanted.
“We used to keep goblin informants here, back in the day, when I worked with the Rangers,” Roe said sadly.
EJ pulled the end of the rope through the first steel ring and tied a loop around his brother’s wrist. He then knotted it around Roe’s neck before he strung it through the other steel ring and then to his other wrist. Roe watched with childlike fascination as Eijlam worked to secure him.
“So, I am your prisoner now... Hmm... I am glad it is you this time.” Roe smiled broadly as he sat down against the wall.
“Fionna, if he tries to hurt you, do not hesitate to kill him,” she heard EJ whisper in her head.
Ej’s rope was made from enchanted mallorn tree fibers. It was thin but strong as steel. The magical rope would never release its knots unless its owner willed it, or was dead.
“When Naalin returned, did she tell you I love you?” Roe said in a bright, chatty voice. “I asked her to convey my message when…” he stopped short as the horror of that moment came back to him.
Fionna tried not to show pain at the sound of her sister’s name, so she quickly turned away to the fireplace across the small room and busied herself.
“I told her to say that, but she did not run... and it was too late...” Roe’s voice trailed away as anguish took over his expression. “I do not remember much after that day… what day is it?” He looked around at the two of them for answers.