Relic of the God

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Adilandra sat down with her head in her hands. “Wait. What is Crissalith?” she asked through her tears.

  Gideon despised the stuff, but he could feel that his emotions were steered by Ilargo. “It’s best described as anti-magic. It’s a green crystal -”

  “Green?” Adilandra interrupted, a disturbed expression marring her fair features. “I think the Darkakin have it. They used it on me…”

  “Yes,” Gideon explained. “We don't know where they found it, but it’s clear that Atilan’s kingdom spread to both sides of The Adean. It’s extremely deadly in the presence of a dragon.”

  Galanӧr stepped forward. “Is that the secret, the Crissalith?”

  “No, sorry. There’s a lot of history to cover…” Gideon knew he was delaying the inevitable. There was a part of him that was connected to Adriel and all the dragons that had been guarding this secret for millennia. “When the war was coming to an end, Atilan had Naius create The Veil. It’s a device of pure magic, created in Kaliban, in Naius’ pools. The Veil opens a gateway that leads… well, I’m not entirely sure. It’s a place without time, somewhere they could hide and watch the world without fear of death. But they’re trapped there. It’s a place where their influence is limited.”

  Adilandra’s lips parted just enough to whisper, “Valanis.”

  “Yes,” Gideon confirmed. “Their influence can still be damaging to Verda. The Dragorn kept it a secret in hopes that Atilan and the others would never return. That threat will always hang over us if The Veil isn’t destroyed.” Again, the mage looked at Adriel, but the ancient elf had no comment to offer.

  “This Veil,” Galanӧr asked, “is the only way for the gods to return?”

  “Yes. They didn't know it couldn't pass through the gateway with them. Garganafan and Malliath retrieved it after Atilan and the others disappeared. They eventually entrusted it to Elandril, the first Dragorn, who ensured it remained a secret, along with its true history. It’s moved around over the millennia, but at the end of the Dragon War, Adriel had it hidden from the world.”

  “Where is it?” Galanӧr asked with a tone of desperation.

  Gideon looked at Adriel and the others followed his gaze. He had already told them so much, but revealing the next piece of the puzzle would be crossing a line that he could never return from.

  Adriel finally turned to regard them all. “You risk all of Verda with your next words. Retrieving The Veil will expose it to the world and those that would use it to see Atilan’s return.”

  Gideon stepped forward so that he could only see Adriel. “Valanis is no longer a threat. He is trapped in Elethiah, and with the dragons on our side we can easily defeat those who serve him.”

  Adriel’s attention moved from Gideon to Adilandra, whose complexion was a shade paler.

  “What is it?” Galanӧr inquired with concern.

  Adilandra stood up and paced along the row, before turning back to them. “Valanis is not trapped in the Amber Spell. He broke free forty years ago…”

  It was Gideon and Adriel’s turn to express confusion. Both Ilargo and Galandavax shared that emotion with a low rumble in their throats, but many roars echoed across the city. Rainael the emerald star could be seen atop one of the taller buildings, with her head pointed to the sky in rage. No one remembered the dark elf better than the dragons.

  “It cannot be,” Adriel said. “Garganafan gave his life to seal him in that spell.”

  “It was broken by Paldora’s gem,” Adilandra replied solemnly.

  “How can you know this?” the ancient elf asked.

  “I have seen it, or at least heard the tale as it unfolds in Illian. As we speak my daughter is stuck in the heart of it.”

  “Princess Reyna?” This had Galanӧr even more concerned.

  “I enchanted her owl years ago and have kept watch over her,” Adilandra explained. “The last I heard, Valanis possesses the gem and the Darkakin are marching on Syla’s Gate.”

  Adriel stepped down and joined them in the stands. “These are darker days than I feared.” The elf looked up at Galandavax and the two shared a private conversation neither Gideon nor Ilargo were privy to. “Valanis has always known of The Veil’s existence. It was his greatest desire during The Dark War. If we retrieve the relic and attempt to destroy it in the pools of Naius, we risk delivering it straight into his hands.”

  Gideon could feel Adriel’s eyes pleading with him to reconsider. “We have to try,” he replied, his boldness amplified by Ilargo. “The threat of Valanis is all the greater as long as The Veil is his to claim. It doesn’t matter where we hide it; he will create war after war until it’s his.”

  “It can only be destroyed in Kaliban,” Adriel said. “No one has ever found that wretched place.”

  Not yet… Ilargo poured confidence into their bond.

  “Not yet…” Gideon replied with a cocky smile.

  Adilandra stepped into the light, beyond Galandavax’s hulking shadow. Her eyes were bloodshot. “So it is decided then. We shall bring an end to this war before it goes any further.”

  Adriel looked from Galandavax to the queen. “Mournblade has been drawn from the stone; the Dragorn are needed once again. Rainael the emerald star will not ignore this.”

  “Mournblade?” Adilandra quickly inspected the red and gold hilt poking over Gideon’s shoulder. “You wield the blade of Elandril?”

  “He does,” Adriel replied with a hint of emotion in his voice. “And behind him, the dragons will fly to Illian. I only hope we reach their shores in time to prevent our people from going to war with each other.”

  “Or the Darkakin from invading…” Galanӧr commented.

  Gideon didn't like the way the ancient Dragorn was positioning him. “I won't lead the dragons back to Illian without The Veil. We must retrieve it first, Adriel.”

  Before the elf could answer, both Ilargo and Galandavax grunted with a sharp exhale, which quickly turned into a savage roar. Gideon could feel great sorrow pouring out of the dragons, though Ilargo’s pain was far more acute. Through their bond, Gideon could see and even feel the death of Angala the wise, one of the oldest among the dragons. It was mighty blow to their kind, losing one so old and with so much experience. Ilargo’s pain brought tears to Gideon’s eyes, but the Dragorn blinked them away before anyone took note.

  Adriel froze looking out over the burning city. A single tear ran down his cheek, a crack in his millennia-old armour. “Find the eternal shores, Angala the wise…”

  “What’s happening?” Galanӧr asked.

  “Angala the wise has been slain,” Gideon explained with a heavy heart. “She was among the oldest.”

  Galanӧr joined Adriel in looking over the city. “How could they kill such a dragon?”

  “With Crissalith,” Adriel replied through gritted teeth. It was uncharacteristic of the ancient elf, but Gideon couldn't deny the bond Adriel shared with all of the dragons, especially the oldest.

  A sudden roar drowned out the ruin of Malaysai, as Rainael the emerald star flew overhead. Galandavax bowed his enormous head and moved across the arena’s stairs, making space for the queen of dragons. The ground shook under her bulk, but it was the blood around her mouth and claws that drew the attention of most. Rainael arched her neck and leaned down, towards Gideon, where her sharp eyes focused keenly on the Dragorn.

  Can you hear me, Dragorn?

  Rainael’s voice was as majestic as her appearance, befitting that of a queen to such a noble race. It was the first time Gideon had heard the voice of another dragon besides Ilargo.

  Yes, I can hear you…

  You mark the beginning of a new age, Gideon Thorn. I cannot say what this age will bring, but I will see to it that the Darkakin and their Crissalith have no part in it.

  Grief emanated from Rainael like heat from a fire. Gideon couldn't look inside her mind, but he could sense through Ilargo that the death of Angala was at the heart of Rainael’s anger. He could also sense that Adriel was no
t part of this conversation…

  Before my kin leaves these lands, we will raze Davosai and Gravosai to the ground. Only after their kind is reduced to ash and the threat of Crissalith gone forever will we intercede with this new war.

  Rainael’s tone was uncompromising. Gideon could tell that his protest as a Dragorn meant nothing to the queen of the dragons, and so he kept his reservations to himself and relayed her words to the others.

  Galanӧr gripped the hilt of his scimitar. “Do we have time for this? War could erupt at any moment in Illian.”

  Rainael looked down at the warrior-elf and snorted. Whatever emotion she forced upon Galanӧr shut him up immediately and left him with a face of annoyance. Gideon suspected it was a mirror of her own.

  Adilandra looked to protest as well, but Adriel stepped in and said, “Rainael the emerald star has spoken. A dragon’s mind cannot be changed, My Lady.”

  “My daughter is in Illian,” Adilandra’s tone was quiet but resolute. “I will reach The Shining Coast and see this war to its end.”

  “No doubt,” Adriel agreed, “but the quickest way to Illian is on the back of a dragon.”

  Gideon decided to cut in, seeing Adriel’s lack of diplomacy fail again and again. “When this is all over, there will be no threat to either Illian or Ayda. Go with them and raze their cities to the ground, and then we will reach The Shining coast and see Valanis to his end.” The Dragorn pleaded to the queen of the elves with his eyes. Though her own were teary, Adilandra bowed her head slightly and moved away.

  Adriel turned to Gideon. “We will go another way.”

  The mage nodded. “North…”

  “You aren't coming?” Galanӧr asked.

  “We will retrieve The Veil,” Adriel explained, “while you destroy the Darkakin. Ilargo and Galandavax will not be needed to see their civilisation brought to an end.”

  Galanӧr didn't look entirely happy about the separation, but no one could force a dragon to do anything they didn't want to do.

  That thought was ruined by the ear-splitting roar behind them. Evidence of what happened to dragons who were enslaved was spread out before them. Malliath the voiceless had climbed to the top of the great pyramid, or what was left of it. The dragon roared again before diving into the city below and wreaking havoc. His movements were far more erratic than the others, with his tail flying in every direction and his deadly breath burning the streets black. More often than not, Malliath simply used his awesome bulk to smash through the buildings, allowing him to eat any Darkakin who had escaped the blaze.

  Gideon couldn't help but wonder what chaos and destruction the dragon would make of Illian. There was a very good chance that Korkanath would need to be evacuated before Malliath reduced his old prison to its foundations.

  Adriel sighed. “It was not the recovery I had hoped for him, but with Malliath’s rage, you will destroy their cities in a few days. We will meet in the Hook of the World. From there, we will fly to Illian.”

  “We should go to Velia,” Galanӧr said. “King Elym always planned on staging the war from there; it will be the first place they attack.”

  Gideon nodded in agreement as Adriel moved to Galanadvax’s side, where the two fell into silent conversation. Adilandra remained on the lip of the arena, though her gaze had shifted from the ruin of Malaysai to the blue sky filling with smoke. He couldn't imagine what turmoil laid waste to her mind right now. Either way, the queen of elves would have to find some way of coming to terms with her new reality; there was too much at stake to remain and dwell any longer.

  Gideon sat down and leaned into Galanӧr’s ear. “If you reach the Hook of the World and there’s no sign of us, just go. Prevent the war.”

  Galanӧr clearly wasn't happy with the current plan. “I fear it will have already begun by the time we get there. I’m all for burning these savages off the face of Verda, but who knows what progress the bulk of their army has made in Illian.”

  “I agree with you, but…” The young Dragorn glanced at Ilargo. “I see the big picture now. We can't put all the fires out, but we can stop them from becoming an inferno.”

  Galanӧr almost laughed. “You really are Dragorn.”

  Gideon could see that the elf wasn't convinced. “Illian has a combined force of six armies; they will keep the Darkakin at bay until we get there. At least this way Valanis can never call on them for aid again.”

  Galanӧr looked him in the eyes. “You know the state of things in Illian, as well as I. Their alliances are thin and the Darkakin will arrive without warning.”

  Gideon put a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “I suppose telling you to have faith would be a little redundant at this point…”

  Galanӧr stole a glance at Adilandra. “My faith has always been in my skill with a blade. The queen’s on the other hand… That will take some time I fear.”

  “You will watch over her?” Gideon asked.

  Galanӧr shook his head. “The queen does not require my protection. It’s what’s left of her after today that worries me.”

  Gideon was inclined to agree. “Just get to Velia. We’ll worry about everything else when there’s time.”

  Galanӧr raised an eyebrow. “You are becoming harder to recognise, young Dragorn. You have their wisdom now, and Elandril’s sword on your back; but don't forget about Gideon.” The elf turned to glance at Adriel. “The old Dragorn were the best, but they’re gone now and the world is different. Be the Dragorn Verda needs you to be, but don't forget about the people in it. It’s who you are that makes you… well, you.”

  Gideon chuckled softly. “That was almost a compliment.”

  The elf laughed with him. “I have no doubt that your achievements will go down in history, just don't let that big picture cloud those in front of you.”

  Gideon smiled. “Words I will live by.”

  We will find our way together. Ilargo’s words resonated deep inside his mind.

  Adriel stepped away from Galandavax. “We should leave, Gideon. Time is not our ally.” The ancient elf stopped and looked over the burning city. “It seems Malaysai is gone at any rate.”

  Indeed, the city was unrecognisable. The Goddess’ palace could no longer be described as a pyramid and the cityscape had been decimated and covered in a thick layer of black smoke.

  The young Dragorn made for Ilargo. “We will see you in the Hook of the World.” Gideon looked from Adilandra to Galanӧr. “Just leave Davosai and Gravosai to the dragons. We will all be needed in Illian.”

  “Wait,” Galanӧr said. “You never said where you’re going. Where is The Veil hidden?”

  Surprisingly, it was Adilandra who replied, “Inside Mount Garganafan.”

  Gideon faced the queen in astonishment. “How could you know that?”

  “You said Adriel hid The Veil at the end of the Dragon War. The only thing I remember being hidden at that time was the last dragon eggs.” The queen’s steely gaze landed on Adriel. “But I am quickly becoming accustomed to the relationship between the Dragorn and the truth. I take it there are no eggs inside the mountain, either?”

  Adriel bowed his head in deference. “Only The Veil.”

  Gideon knew that despite the impact the secrets of the Dragorn were having on Adilandra, Adriel would feel no guilt for his part in the deception. The elf had been sworn by those oaths for too long.

  Adilandra turned away from them all again, content to say no more. Gideon wanted to speak with her in private, away from Adriel, but he also realised the absurdness of believing he could be of any help to the queen. He was a fraction of her age and the wisdom he had came from Ilargo, who shared it with his mother. There was nothing he could do or say that would make Adilandra’s world right again. Instead, he nodded at Galanӧr before jumping onto Ilargo’s back and nestling into the dragon’s neck.

  “Hold on!” Galanӧr called. “Take this!” The elf unsheathed his scimitar and threw the empty scabbard up to Gideon. “I can't stand to see such a fine sword strappe
d to your back.”

  Gideon slid Mournblade into the scabbard and attached it to his belt. “Thank you… friend.” Elf and man shared a look that spoke what neither could say out loud about their unusual friendship.

  As one, Ilargo and Galandavax launched themselves into the sky. Gideon instinctively wanted to say a prayer that would have his friends returned to him, but he was left with nothing to do but hope.

  7

  Northbound

  The town of Galosha sat on the horizon before Tauren son-of-none. It’s architecture and layout were different to anything in The Arid Lands, with its lack of a defensible wall being the most notable difference. Despite the town’s elegant, pointed roofs and painted walls, it was Galosha’s surroundings that robbed Tauren of speech.

  “What’s wrong with ye, laddy?” The hardy voice of a dwarf broke his reverie as Doran son of Dorain came up the hill astride his war-hog.

  From atop his horse, Tauren glanced down at the dwarf before returning to the vista. “I have never seen so much… green.”

  “Eh?” Doran followed his gaze. “Oh aye! I think ye’ll prefer it to sand. Grass doesn't get into all the cracks… Speaking of, these Albornian shits can be a little up their own arse, so prepare ye’self for a spiky welcome.”

  The son-of-none tore his eyes from the lush green and focused on the main road that led into Galosha. “I thought the guards would have already ridden out to meet us.”

  Doran gave a sharp laugh. “Are ye kiddin’ me? Have you seen what’s marchin’ on their town?”

  Tauren looked over the mounted dwarf, to the Selk Road on their left. The road could not be seen for the thousands of Karathans trodding ever northward. Their numbers had swelled after passing through Calmardra, with many heeding their warning of the Darkakin and hoping to take refuge in the northern lands. Leaving those who had chosen to stay had haunted Tauren day and night. They could not be forced to leave their homes, but he knew what was coming, and he knew what the Darkakin would do to their city.