The Dragon Rock

by Nebojsa Budjanovac

  Chapter 5. The vision

  The sky over the mountains was now more often covered with clouds. The days turned colder and windy.

  “The birds are flying southward,” said Arios the twelfth morning, looking at the flock of the wild geese disappearing in the distance, “and soon the snow will come. We must go.”

  His mood also improved slightly. Orin expected he’ll reveal the secret of the strange monastery soon enough. But, Arios was still silent.

  “It really is time, sorcerer,” said he. “I can hardly wait for you to recover. We have food, we’re rested - and the Ring of the Kings is still somewhere ahead of us. We’ll never find it if we don’t start finally.” From the place where they stood it was impossible to see the Dragon Rock, because of the high mountain peaks. The prince, however, could feel its call ever more strongly. He was restless, ready to run ahead, to the new troubles. It is commonly thought that people learn from their mistakes, but, if it were so, the human race would have become perfect a long time ago.

  They started up the slope the same day, while merciless wind chilled their faces and hindered their walk. There was no path before them, and they needed to find the easiest pass over the peaks, eternally clothed in snow.

  When the view at the monastery in the valley was hidden behind the granite rocks, Orin again decided to try to find out from the sorcerer what really happened.

  “I’m not sure,” said Arios. “When I...”

  “Wait,” interrupted the prince, “Give me an explanation - how is it possible that those priests haven’t seen us when we walked out of the cell?”

  “They aren’t important,” continued the sorcerer. “They’re just dolls on the string. You see, in that place something exists, a kind of force, some dark entity which rules over those people completely. I met it for the first time when I was searching for you with my spiritual eye. I entered the temple, and suffered an attack unbelievably strong and full of hate...”

  “Are you saying that you are able to divide your spirit from the body and travel wherever you want?” asked the prince in wonder.

  “It isn’t so simple,” said Arios, “There are limits. Besides, it’s very dangerous. Many a sorcerer failed to return from such a journey. Anyway, I was blocked by that force, attacked so strongly that I had to escape out of our reality to save myself. But, when I returned to my body, the priests were there to capture me; they threw me in that basement cell - the same thing happened to you, I believe. My spirit was dragged away in the darkness again. I don’t know why, but that creature was afraid of me. It used all its strength to destroy my mind. At first, I could only run away. I was afraid of it too. It was terrible; my whole mind consisted only of horror.”

  While he was talking, his face twisted unconsciously, and sweat broke out on his forehead. Noticing that, Orin kept his silence, not wanting to interrupt the story, this time maybe for good.

  “And then, at one moment, I found myself in some other place. I wasn’t alone. Somebody else was there also, friendly and good-willed. I don’t know exactly what it was, but suddenly, it seemed like I could see again. Suddenly, I wasn’t afraid anymore. It was perfectly clear that the dark force didn’t have any power over me. I couldn’t find out anymore why I was running away in the first place. I went back, toward it, and it retreated, utterly helpless, and tried to hide from me. I knew that I have won, and that I can wake up, but I didn’t know how much my body was drained during the struggle. I was utterly empty. I couldn’t talk about anything. So, this is what happened.” Arios concluded the story.

  “What do you think about all these things? There has to be an explanation,” said Orin.

  “Yes, there is one. Everything in the world has an explanation, in fact, as many explanations as there are human beings searching for it. Maybe this dark force is some ancient god who has always been there, searching for unwary travellers and guiding them to worship him, feeding on their lives. He would have get you too, have you been there alone.

  But, then, it seems to me sometimes that the force was created by the sect itself. It may be the collective spirit of the priests, who became so strong in time, that it mastered over them completely, became a separate entity. It holds them in a conviction that they still have free will, and that their decisions and deeds are still their own. But, as you witnessed, they are so strongly under its influence that they forgot about us completely as soon as it withdrew from me. When I was still a disciple, I learned about the societies which were swallowed by their own ideals. They became their own victims. Human lives served those ideas, instead of being the other way around.”

  “And why were you immune to its power?” asked the prince, slowly realizing what the sorcerer’s story was about.

  “Who would know? Maybe it’s because I lived a long time separated from the world of men. Maybe because I learned that ideas have power over men as long as they believe in them. And I stopped believing in ideas a long time ago. Maybe this force was afraid of me because it knew I don’t believe in it? Who could know? I cannot find out who helped me to see through all of it. It was a presence of different kind. But it was like a dream.” He laughed. “Well, it was a kind of dream, really!”

  “When I gain the ultimate power, I’ll think carefully about things you spoke of,” said Orin. “There must be a way to make things right, and to help all people who live in such slavery.”

  “Maybe. Who would know?” answered the sorcerer.

  The conversation lasted for a better part of the following day of the journey, when it was still possible to find a good path. The next days, however, were more exhausting. The path became steeper, and their advance slowed considerably. For a while, unusual events they experienced were pushed aside in their minds, being replaced with more mundane problems.

  Finally, they reached the spot from where their pack animal could no longer go further. They took their packs, dividing the supplies between two of them, and chased the animal away, back to the valley. The added weight slowed them even more, but it was the only solution. The mountain path became even harder, and they were walking ahead slowly, deeply breathing thin mountain air. Headaches and dizziness tormented them all the time, and they made their ascent with great effort. They were very slowly adapting to the great heights. The mountains were always cruel towards the intruders who entered their beautiful realm. Two travellers, however, didn’t have much choice - only the way ahead existed for them. Ice-covered peaks seemed to be within reach of their hands in the crystal clear atmosphere, and that gave them strength for the next step.

  For a few days already they were walking over a thin layer of snow. The weather was still clear enough, but the snow could be felt in the air, and it was only matter of time when it’ll begin to fall. From the goatskins and sinews they made something that vaguely resembled a tent. The nights were becoming chillier, and they needed a good shelter from the wind. Still, the skins in which they slept weren’t enough, and they spent nights shivering, in a kind of half-dream, stiffed. The whole mountain seemed to say - go back, you cannot go through. To return, however, was out of the question.

  Day after day passed and what seemed to be an unreachable mountaintop was finally almost at hand. The sun was high on the horizon when Arios saw the land on the other side for the first time.

  “We did it!” he shouted to Orin, who was sitting and trying to catch breath, twenty paces below. “Unbelievable!”

  “Why... unbelievable?” Orin shouted back. “I... never... doubted... we’ll do it!”

  But Arios was looking at the Dragon Rock, which was still higher than the highest mountain, and more distant than the end of the world. “Not that. The Dragon Rock. It can be seen again. And the flying specks around it. No matter how far we came, it’s still equally distant!”

  “Well, it just seems so! The mountains can’t move!” the answer came. “It’s only unbelievably high.” The prince stood up, despite his fatigue, and staggered to Arios. He looked at the distance. The Dragon Ro
ck made all the surrounding mountains look like small hills.

  “I saw it from my pastures the same way I see it now,” said the sorcerer. “I can’t understand it. The Blue Mountains really are a strange place!”

  “There has to be an explanation. For example, it could not be seen from the monastery. It must be a trick of the light,” said Orin, blinking to see little specks flying slowly around the top.

  “I don’t know. We may find out some day,” concluded Arios.

  The mountaintop on which they stood was covered with snow, but not too steep. In fact, the other side descended much more gently to the lower lands, overgrown in thick evergreen forests. Far in the north, many thousands of paces away, another sharp-peaked mountain range rose, and beyond it, the monumental body of the Dragon Rock.

  “Here we’ll make a camp. Tomorrow we can begin with the descent. We must reach the forests before snow storms set on us,” decided Orin.

  Arios didn’t answer, since he was trying to build their little tent. But he knew Orin was right. There was a premonition of snow in the wind. The sorcerer knew this like he knew the night follows the day, but he didn’t want to make his companion worry even more. The best he could do was to make a good shelter.

  That night he had a strange dream. In the dream, he heard an eerie melody coming from the dark, a melody which reminded him of something long forgotten, some happy moments from the time he was still living in the world of men, and they kept evading him, calling to him to find them in the labyrinth of the memory. He rose, partly aware he was dreaming, and went into the night, following the sound. He didn’t know how long he walked; the time lost its meaning while he strode over the moonshine glowing in the snow.

  On the stone ahead of him there sat a slender, transparent figure dressed in white, with long, black hair descending to the ground. The girl had her back turned to him, but when the sorcerer got close, she spoke in a quiet, melodious voice. Arios thought she was speaking some unknown language, but he did understand her words somehow.

  “Do not come any closer, because a mortal who beholds an elven face is not a master of his own life any more.”

  “You are of elven kind!” words were rough in sorcerer’s mouth. The girl didn’t react to his comment.

  “Where you are going, you may find the very thing you are running from your whole life. So listen well to what I have to say to you. Not long ago, your spirit strayed into my land. Then we understood you will probably never find it again on your own. So they send me to give to you a gift which could help you.”

  “Who are you?” asked Arios. “What are you talking about? Are you warning me about something?”

  The figure moved her head slightly.

  “Remember the smallest things when times are hard. When there are no other roads, they will open the gates. I can tell you no more.”

  The girl rose slowly and walked over the snow, disappearing in the darkness.

  “Wait!” shouted the sorcerer, running after her. “I want to see your face!”

  The figure turned for a moment and threw something from her hand in the snow in front of Arios. Then she finally disappeared.

  “What a strange dream!” thought the sorcerer, overwhelmed with all kind of emotions. He swayed, and fell on the snow. “I must wake!” was his last thought before he lost consciousness.

  After Orin came awake and discovered his companion is not in the tent, driven by some impulse, he ran into the darkness to find him. He found the sorcerer lying in the snow unconsciously, not far from their camp. Beside his head, there was a small flute made from the willow bark, like those that the shepherds usually make in the spring.

  The next morning, the blizzard was raging over the mountain.