Relic of the God

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Their detailed expressions were harder to interpret, but their silence was telling of the surprise he had delivered. Every heartbeat, including the Dragorn’s slow and thunderous one, quickened in their chests. King Elym glided past Rengar, who was one of few sitting at the long table that had been rushed into the hall of pillars, and set his gaze on Asher.

  “You are certain, Outlander?” he asked.

  “He’s a ranger now,” Faylen interjected. Asher heard Elym’s neck scrape across his collar as he swivelled his head towards the elf. Faylen’s gulp was imperceptible to all but the ranger.

  “He’s an Arakesh, more to the point.” King Rengar helped himself to the wine, the only one who wasn't exhausted from the battle.

  “What I am is irrelevant,” Asher cut in before anyone else could rise to his defence. “Valanis is alive.”

  Gideon Thorn waved his hand over his face. “You… saw this?” The young man was the only person present, besides King Rengar, who wasn't bleeding from a wound. In fact, the Dragorn had a sweet scent to him that reminded Asher of the elves. His lack of wounds was either a testament to his skills in battle, or being bonded to a dragon had more perks than being able to fly.

  Asher stood at the bottom of the table and tilted his head towards the Dragorn. Looking at Gideon was no longer necessary, but it was a very human affectation that put people at ease. On their way through the city and into the palace, the ranger had noted the discomfort of many upon realising that he required no help navigating the world.

  “He opened a portal at the last second,” Asher explained. “That statue hit nothing but dirt.”

  The ranger sensed some skepticism from Elym, Rengar, and even Lord Marshal Horvarth, who sat on a stool beside one of the white pillars. The Graycoat commander was perhaps the most wounded among those gathered. Asher could taste the blood in the air and feel the cloth fabric that wrapped around his head, covering the Lord Marshal’s bloody left eye. Everyone else, including Adilandra, the queen of the elves, sagged a little in their posture, greatly disheartened at the news.

  “Where would he go?” The question was posed by the elf who accompanied Gideon and Adilandra. It took Asher a moment to recall his name as Galanӧr.

  “Exactly,” King Elym folded his arms. “Why would he retreat now, after all this?”

  Asher didn't have an answer for that, the ranger knew what he knew and nothing else. “I can't speak for Valanis’ actions,” he said. “He’s an elf. Maybe you can get in his head.” Asher meant no disrespect to the king’s people, especially since he had come to love a couple of them, but something about Elym riled him up.

  Backed up by Varӧ, his High Guardian, Elym took a threatening step towards Asher. “Then maybe you should leave this to elves and return to the wilds from which you crawled.”

  “Enough.” Adilandra’s word carried enough authority to silence the king of elves. “This ranger deserves our respect and gratitude. Not only has he accompanied our daughter, but he has also kept safe that which Valanis desires.”

  More heads turned on the ranger, but Elym could only offer a sneer. “Paldora’s gem should be in our keeping,” the king stated boldly. “I demand that you hand it over, immediately.”

  “You have Paldora’s gem?” Galanӧr stepped forward from leaning against the pillar.

  Reyna left Nathaniel’s side and stood with the ranger. “Only Asher can wield it. The gem is too powerful for any other to hold.”

  “A ridiculous statement,” Elym said. “I have held the gem myself.”

  The king’s words triggered the oldest of memories in Asher’s mind. The images weren't perfect, but he recalled Elym as a young man, a boy perhaps, handing Paldora’s gem to Nalana, who then gave it to Asher. Elym had been hurt at the time and the gem was fixed into a necklace… The ranger rubbed his forehead with his fingertips, desperately grasping at faded memories.

  “I have held but a shard of it,” Faylen’s voice seemed weaker than normal, as if she deliberately made herself smaller when addressing her king. Asher didn't like it. “It almost crippled me.”

  “That proves nothing, Lady Haldӧr,” Elym snapped back. “Only that a more powerful elf is required.” The king nodded at one of the elders who lingered by the far corner of the table, gesturing for them to relieve Asher of the gem.

  The ranger had a better idea. “Catch.” He flicked Paldora’s gem at Elym, whose elven reflexes had him snatch the gem mid-flight.

  The reaction was just as Asher expected.

  King Elym’s fist seized up and the veins on his hand bulged and ran up his arms until those on his face were pressing against the skin. His cry was quickly reduced to a garbled choke. The High Guardian and the elders dashed to his side but the elf flopped onto the table and slid to the floor in agony.

  “Asher!” Reyna’s tone was harsh.

  The ranger strode over, pushing aside one of the elders, and gripped Elym’s wrist tightly. It was harder than he had hoped, the king’s grip as strong as it was, but he eventually prised the gem out. The relief was instantaneous and Elym gasped for air, coughing and spluttering as he was helped to his feet. Varӧ pushed Asher back and went for the scimitar on his belt. The ranger kept his own hands by his side, sure that if he pulled his own broadsword it would come to blows.

  Nathaniel stepped between the two and locked eyes with Varӧ. Asher could hear the knight’s fists balling and his knuckles cracking. It wasn't a fight he could ever win, but it meant a lot that he would stand between them. Reyna put a hand on both warriors, soothing the pair with her gaze alone.

  Rengar lifted his head a little. “Perhaps we should all rest and have a drink.” With the exception of Doran, the king’s suggestion was largely ignored.

  The dwarf sat beside an injured Jonus Glaide and helped himself to the ale, apparently oblivious to everything going on around him.

  Elym shrugged off the elders’ helping hands. Asher could feel the heat in the elf’s face, his rage building to a crescendo that would surely see the king fly at him. Again, Reyna commanded her father’s attention and tempered his fury with a look.

  Elym took a breath and straightened his collar. “So Valanis is alive,” he said with a croaky voice, “and we possess the only weapon that can finally kill him. I would say our course is a fairly simple one. I suppose the real question is, are you up to the challenge, Ranger?”

  Everyone’s eyes fell on Asher again. “I can kill him,” he lied. “I used it to kill Alidyr Yalathanil.”

  Nathaniel’s gaze was impossible to ignore. The knight’s heartbeat increased and his temperature rose. Only his closest friend knew the truth of that statement, though he suspected Faylen and Reyna were looking at him with incredulous expressions.

  “You used the gem?” Reyna asked, her face lighting up.

  Asher kept his face straight and offered a simple nod in return.

  Doran burped loudly, breaking the silence. “How are we ta’ find the crafty bastard?”

  The subtle movements of most were imperceptible to even elven eyes, but right now, Adilandra and Gideon were staring at each other from across the table.

  “Perhaps you know,” Asher said, directing his voice to Gideon.

  The Dragorn licked his lips before speaking. “Rainael the emerald star believes he has retreated to Kaliban. It was the only place he was ever known to find refuge.”

  There was more to be said, Asher could hear that much in the young man’s voice. There was something he held back, though the ranger couldn't guess what.

  “Before we go any further,” Adilandra held up her hand, “I think it might be time to share of our individual journeys. With all the pieces we might discover a way to end this threat once and for all.”

  Reyna’s glance from Galanӧr to King Rengar was subtle, but Asher detected it none the less. “Some of our tales are not for everyone’s ears,” she said.

  “Indeed,” Adilandra agreed before giving two of the elders an order in elvish.

  T
hey broke away from Elym and approached King Rengar and Lord Marshal Horvarth. The two men shuffled in their seat, apprehensive of what was happening. The elves placed a hand on each of their foreheads, their movements too quick for the men to react defensively. It took only a moment for Rengar and Horvarth’s eyes to roll back and their heads to slump into their chest, fast asleep.

  Gideon sat forward in his seat, but his gaze was fixed on Galanӧr. “My journey began at Korkanath…”

  Gideon took a refreshing gulp of water when he reached the end of his tale. The telling of his journey out loud made it seem so much more real, and yet it sounded ludicrous to his own ears. Everything he had gone through, from fighting Galanӧr on Korkanath’s ramparts to slaying a god under Mount Garganafan, felt as if it should be the story of another, not that of an orphan who hadn't technically graduated to the rank of mage yet. In truth, he knew his days aspiring to be a mage was behind him now; his responsibilities had risen a magnitude since then.

  His explanation of The Veil raised many questions but Adilandra instructed everyone to simply listen. Gideon made sure to leave the appropriate pauses, allowing his words to sink in. Learning that the gods were once men and women of the first kingdom had been something of a blow for Reyna and Faylen, both of who had wiped tears from their eyes at various points in his story. King Elym’s reaction came across as relief, as Gideon suspected it would. The king of elves had based most of his invasion on the foundation that the gods weren't real.

  The real problem came when he revealed the Dragorn’s oldest secret.

  “Absurd!” Elym slapped his hand down on the table. “How dare you suggest that we are nothing but a failed experiment of a mad king!”

  “Elym!” Adilandra berated the king. “Remember who you are talking to. Gideon is Dragorn now.”

  Gideon let the king inspect him with a scrupulous eye before responding, “I’m sorry you had to hear it at all, Kin Elym. If it’s any consolation, I don't think it really matters who came first. The point is, we’re all here now. There are things we can learn from each other.”

  Elym glanced at Princess Reyna, shaking his head. “This… this is a lie.”

  “How else could a human be a Dragorn?” Galanӧr asked.

  “Silence,” Elym barked. “The House of Reveeri will speak when commanded to.”

  That upset Ilargo…

  A sudden thud shook the room and dust rained down on them. A distant roar had everyone looking up, though there was nothing to see but an arched ceiling.

  Gideon kept his voice even, but bold. “I wouldn't speak to him like that again if I were you…”

  Elym lifted his chin before turning away. Gideon felt a rush of power seeing the king of elves turn away rather than continue the confrontation. That was exactly the kind of feeling he had to keep in check, he thought.

  This topic was discussed a couple more times before everyone present found their own way of dealing with the shift in reality. Gideon didn't feel it changed an awful lot, but then again, he hadn't lived his entire life believing he was the superior race.

  Reyna was quicker to recover from the shock of her peoples’ origin. Instead, the princess had a much harder time understanding The Veil and its meaning.

  “I don't understand,” she said. “The Echoes of Fate are divine words, words that have come true. Mother?”

  Adilandra sighed. “Gideon’s knowledge comes from the dragons. It cannot be questioned.”

  Gideon heard Adriel’s explanation in his mind. “The Echoes of Fate is simply a self-fulfilling prophecy. We want it to be real so we look for the signs to make it so.” The Dragorn kept his discussion about The Echoes and the possibility of Kaliban being a real god to himself. It was too much right now.

  “I wasn't looking for a star to fall out of the sky,” Reyna countered, “but Paldora’s star still graced daylight sky and brought down Syla’s Gate. A calamity the prophecy speaks of, does it not?”

  That caught Gideon’s attention. “That happened?”

  “Yes,” Reyna said forcefully. “An alliance of two shores has this very day defeated a great evil, offering us all hope and a chance for eternal peace, together. The children of fire and flame offer great promise; you arrived here on the back of a dragon!”

  Faylen spoke up. “But only one perceives the time we will fall…”

  Reyna smiled and looked at Adilandra. “Four years ago my mother left Elandril in search of the dragons because she and she alone knew that we would all perish if we fought Valanis without them.”

  Adilandra displayed the hint of a smile. “You think the prophecy is referring to me?”

  “I believe it,” Reyna replied. “And now,” she continued, looking back at Gideon, “a man risen to that of an immortal arrives with The Veil, Valanis’ most dangerous desire. We thought it referred to Asher, but if what you say is true, Valanis wants The Veil more than he wants Paldora’s gem.” The princess took a breath. “These are godly words.”

  But what kind of god?

  That question had haunted Gideon since Adriel first told him of The Echoes and their ancient religion. It was a question that quickly slid into the realm of fact when King Elym laid out a scroll across the table. The Dragorn looked upon the tattered scroll, but his eyes could only take in the black handprint under the three verses. Adriel had told him that the priests of The Echoes had signed all of Kaliban’s prophetic words with that hand. Now, against all the odds, there was one right in front of him.

  “I'm afraid they’re not,” Elym said.

  “What is this?” Adilandra asked.

  Before Elym could answer, the mage known as Hadavad walked up to the table with glassy eyes. “The Black Hand…” she whispered.

  “What was that?” Gideon heard every word, he just didn't understand their meaning.

  Hadavad blinked hard and shook her head lightly. “Nothing. Forgive the intrusion, please continue.”

  Elym scowled at the mage. “As I was saying, these are not divine in nature. This is the very scroll Nalana, my sister, found in The Wild Moores. Her dying words were simply the last thing she ever saw. Nothing more.”

  “Why have I never seen this?” Adilandra asked.

  “I had hoped to keep my sister out of it. Convincing our people that we didn't need the gods was hard enough without dragging her name through the mud. She was a hero of her time.”

  Adilandra sighed and looked at her daughter. “This is proof, Reyna. And I have more.” The queen of elves placed a small satchel on the table and removed a leather-bound book from within. The book in question was four times larger than the satchel, but pocket dimensions weren't new to the Dragorn.

  “This is Atilan’s grimoire,” Adilandra continued. “Some of its pages are even signed by him in the ancient language.”

  It took Gideon a moment to get his words out, mesmerised as he was by the grimoire. “And I killed Krayt back in Ayda. I assure you, he was very real.”

  Galanӧr leaned in and whispered, “I can’t believe you killed the god of war. Gideon the godslayer… it just doesn't sound right.”

  Gideon appreciated Galanӧr’s attempt at levity, but he could see from Reyna’s expression that the argument wasn't over. Driving it home, the Dragorn removed the golden ring from his pocket and placed it on the table, where everyone could see the blue crystal fixed on top.

  “I took this from him before he died.”

  “What is it?” Nathaniel asked.

  Gideon liked the knight, he had the look of an honest man about him. “From what I can tell, it’s the only -”

  Adilandra interrupted him. “It was made by Atilan himself. He gifted identical gems to his most loyal. They’re the only thing that allows someone to use magic in the presence of Crissalith.”

  “This Crissalith stuff sounds like a pain in the arse!” Doran exclaimed.

  “It’s all gone now,” Adilandra added. “The dragons destroyed it all.”

  Gideon sat back. “How do you know all this?
” He glanced at the ring.

  Adilandra opened the grimoire and flicked through the pages until she finally stopped on a page that displayed a sketch of the same ring and its blue gem.

  Princess Reyna stepped back from the table, her eyes darting between the scroll, the ring, and the book. Gideon could see the same conflict that had plagued Adilandra. He had never been a devout man, but the truth of the gods had come as a shock to him, he could only imagine what it felt like to someone with a stronger faith.

  “It can't be true,” she repeated again and again. “I have witnessed too much to believe it’s all coincidence.”

  You have to tell her, Ilargo said.

  Gideon glanced up at the high ceiling. The dragon was circling above the palace, determined to stay as close as possible.

  We are not the Dragorn of old, Ilargo continued. We should not begin with a lie.

  It’s not a lie if I don't say anything.

  Gideon…

  The Dragorn cupped his jaw in consideration. He knew Ilargo spoke from a place that they both shared. A place where there were no more secrets.

  “There’s more,” he announced.

  Gideon hated the attention so he ploughed through everything Adriel had told him about The Echoes, their religion, the origins of Valanis’ fortress and its namesake, Kaliban. All he could do was lay out the facts as he had them. Whether they decided to invest in the idea of an unknown pantheon was beyond his ability to control.

  “So you see,” he finished. “There might be something to these words, we just don't know about the real gods.”

  Hadavad leaned on her staff with both hands, her gaze intense. “It seems to me that there is more to this first kingdom than meets the eye.”

  Reyna dropped her head, hiding any expression. On the one hand, Gideon had taken her gods away, and with the other, he had offered the possibility of new gods. It was unfair and he knew it. Divine powers beyond their realm were matters he didn't know enough about. He could only hope that this bigger picture helped them all to solve the problem of Valanis.

  “For now,” he said, “I think we should keep this between us. The truth of the gods could cause anarchy in Illian and the origins of your race might do the same in Ayda.”