by Jekka Jones
The Issachar-monster began speaking. He didn’t shout but spoke passionately in ringing tones and gesticulated with his hands. He waved at the ragged mob of monsters, jabbed a finger at Landon, and made stabbing motions. He sounded calm, but Landon knew he was furious.
“Issachar claims you killed Sayre,” Sri’Lanca murmured, cutting off the king-monster’s speech. “Is that true?”
“It wasn’t Sayre,” Landon said, speaking so his voice carried. “I killed a monster that had stolen her voice and body.”
A portion of the monsters among the cages exploded in gibberish, shouting and jabbing their fingers at Landon. The few who had weapons waved them, and the ragged army waved theirs back. The Nircanian monsters had far more weapons than the others.
One of the Nircanian-monsters spoke up, shouting several times until the monsters quieted. She spoke at length, and Landon racked his brains to place that voice, but he couldn’t remember. After several minutes, he patted Sri’Lanca’s scales to get his attention. “Who’s talking right now?”
“Interim Chief Judge Rickins. She’s one of the judges who upholds the law in Nircana,” Sri’Lanca replied, gesturing to the ten Nircanians seated together. “She’s explaining that you are now under their protection, and unless Issachar—the Menrian king—wants to fight them with limited weapons and armor, he is more than welcome to. You see,” a mischievous glimmer entered the dragon’s eyes, “Ti’Luthin and I have been stealing supplies for our people. The nations are practically defenseless because, thanks to you, many of their weapons were destroyed a week ago. To add salt to the wound, you also slew many of their soldiers.”
Sri’Lanca said this loud enough to draw the attention of every monster present. Landon shirked from their eyeless gazes. “I haven’t done anything. I’ve been asleep.”
This caused a loud murmur to race around the area. The king-monsters and the judge-monsters had to shout several times to quiet their minions. Once the crowd got to a softer volume, the Rickins-creature twisted in her seat and spoke to Sri’Lanca.
“Judge Rickins,” said Sri’Lanca, “is asking what you remember, Landon. Please share as many details as you can.”
Landon almost didn’t answer, but Sri’Lanca was gazing at him, hoping for a response. He swallowed, and in a trembling voice, explained what happened after he awoke. He voiced his confusion at his malnourished and scarred body, and his terror at discovering faceless monsters using his parents’ voices.
“I couldn’t understand them,” Landon said, begging his dragon to understand. “Those monsters came at me and I panicked. I took the dinner knives, cut through the tent, and ran. I felt the bond connecting us so I followed it, but monsters were trying to stop me. One of them caught me and we fell. I had the knives . . . I stabbed her until she let me go.” Landon swallowed and pointed to the bedraggled army. “I ran until these monsters surrounded me and chased me back to the first group. Then the Darrin-monster attacked me. I killed him, but I was still surrounded. I didn’t know what to do. I . . . I was so terrified that death seemed better. I was afraid they would steal my face and make me one of them.”
He deliberately did not mention the amulet. He didn’t want the monsters, or Sri’Lanca, to know that he had it.
“Landon,” said Sri’Lanca gently, “can you see my face?”
“Yes,” Landon sobbed. He scrubbed away the tears threatening to fall. “You’re the only one with a face, and is speaking Tarsli.”
The king-monster sitting beside the monsters posing as his parents spoke, and Sri’Lanca translated. “Katsunaka wants to know what you were dreaming about.”
Landon’s mouth became dry, and his pulse quickened. He didn’t want to tell them about the dead dragons, and that he was responsible for their deaths. He could feel the faceless dragons watching him. If they knew what he had done to their kin, they would attack. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Please, Landon, we need to know. Tell us what you were dreaming about.”
“Sri’Lanca . . .” Landon begged, but his dragon shook his head. Knowing Sri’Lanca couldn’t be dissuaded, he told a part of the truth. He told them about burning and freezing to death, the heat overpowering the cold, and then seeing Sri’Lanca and a physical manifestation of their bond. He said nothing about the dead dragons.
Everyone stared at him when he finished. The Alyssa-monster said something and Sri’Lanca translated, “You don’t remember falling asleep? Or anything before?”
Landon shook his head. “I remember a few things when monsters with certain voices speak. That one,” he pointed to the Juan-monster, “has Juan’s voice, and I know he’s my friend.” He then pointed to each monster whose voice he identified. “Myra’s my fiancé. Will’s my brother. Diego, Sierra, and Alyssa are my parents. Diego and Sierra are my true parents, but Alyssa and her husband, Eli, raised me. I don’t remember why that happened but I know it’s true. In fact, I haven’t seen a monster that looks like Eli.” Landon’s heart soared with hope. “Sri’Lanca, do you know where he is? Did he escape?”
Sri’Lanca’s eyes dropped. “I’m sorry, Landon, but he’s dead. He died several weeks ago.”
Landon stared. A dim memory of Eli standing with another man and a red horse floated to his remembrance. He had seen them in a forest, in a place that was beautiful and peaceful. A place that no longer existed. . . .
Sri’Lanca interrupted his thoughts. “Please, Landon, continue. Who else do you recognize among the—er, the monsters?”
Putting aside the budding grief, Landon replied. “I recognized Sayre’s voice right before . . . before I k-killed her. I recognized the Menrian king’s voice. The other king and judge-monsters sound familiar, but I can’t remember their names, or anything about them. That one had Darrin’s voice,” He pointed to blood stain in the soil. “He used to be my friend but not anymore. He tried to turn me into a monster, and then tried to kill me.”
His words were like a flame to dry grass. The surrounding monsters, both human and dragon, began jabbering all at once. King-monsters all but yelled and the judge-monsters spoke with loud yet civil tones. Sri’Lanca tried to interrupt but without any success.
The Myra-monster jumped to her feet and began shouting. Everyone quieted as she spoke, her beautiful voice ringing through the air. Landon’s heart grieved as he watched her, wishing he could have his fiancé back.
The throng didn’t stay quiet for long. The king-monsters renewed their arguments. They spoke over one another until it was hard to distinguish individual voices. The Myra-monster tried to keep up, but the king-monsters spoke over her. Landon kept asking Sri’Lanca to translate, but his dragon was trying to follow the discussion.
After a couple minutes of this, Sri’Lanca bellowed, “Myra speaks the truth! I stand as a witness to her words.”
The judge-monsters spoke several words, all sounding decisive and bold. The king-monster in the white suit jumped to his feet, almost shouting.
Sri’Lanca growled and said, “We are still bonded but it’s wounded! He can feel the bond binding us whereas I cannot. I can feel his emotions but he can’t feel mine. . . . I am sure it’s because he destroyed the Wizard’s Seal, Ebram. Rather than killing him as we thought,” Landon stiffened at those words but didn’t interrupt, “it wounded our bond. . . . Yes, I translated the document. . . . Safe and that’s none of your concern. Either you believe my words or you don’t, and you would be fools to deny it. Why? You saw it! I was flying right above Landon when he destroyed it! The Seal’s power is gone!”
Landon had had enough. “For the love of everything not a monster,” he shouted, pounding a fist on Sri’Lanca’s spike. “What is the Wizard’s Seal?”
All the faceless heads turned towards him, and as terrifying as it was, Landon was satisfied to have their attention. He sensed shock coming from them, and it bolstered his smidgeon of confidence.
“Who has the Wizard’s Seal right now?” asked Sri’Lanca in reply. “I want Landon to hol
d it.”
The king-monsters babbled furiously and pointed to the bloody puddle. The Nircanian monsters standing near it turned their heads to the stain and back to the king-monsters. One of them spoke, sounding confused.
“He didn’t have it,” said Sri’Lanca, glaring at the king-monsters. “They searched him and found nothing. It’s an amulet, Dre’Goran, of course they wouldn’t miss it!”
Fear trickled into Landon’s gut. “Sri’Lanca . . .” He swallowed and glanced at the surrounding monsters. “What does it look like?”
Sri’Lanca looked at him, and his dragon features softened at Landon’s scared face. “It has an amber triangular knot that loops around a silver ring. It’s small enough to fit comfortably in a human’s palm.”
Landon felt like the earth dropped from beneath him. The monster-creating amulet was called the Wizard’s Seal?
Sri’Lanca’s expression became concerned. “Landon,” he said gently, “do you have the amulet?”
Landon gripped the spike with sweaty hands. He nodded.
An angry murmur swept through the crowd of monsters, and a couple of the king-monsters exclaimed in displeasure. Sri’Lanca ignored them.
“Pull it out and look at it,” he urged. “I want you to see it.”
“I don’t want to touch it,” Landon replied, quaking at the thought. “What if I turn into a monster?”
“It will not turn you into a monster, Landon,” Sri’Lanca said patiently. “Please, pull it out and I will explain everything to you. Trust me, the Wizard’s Seal cannot hurt you anymore.”
Landon gazed into those yellow eyes, frightened but desperate to trust someone. Slowly, and with trembling fingers, he reached into his pocket. He flinched when his fingers touched the warm metal.
Nothing happened. He looked at Sri’Lanca who smiled, his dragon lips curling to reveal the tips of his teeth. Landon pulled out the amulet and held it in his palm. It winked in the sunlight, beautiful and innocent.
“If this doesn’t turn people into monsters, then what does it do?” Landon asked.
“This amulet, which is the Wizard’s Seal, used to be a very powerful weapon,” Sri’Lanca explained. “It contained a power that was once wielded by the wizards, who lived centuries ago. It could destroy cities, mountains, and anything living. The Wizard’s Seal was the most desired object of the known world until you destroyed it a week ago. Do you remember destroying it?”
Landon shook his head. He turned the Seal over in his hands, looking for dents and scratches, but there was nothing. It was whole and pristine without even a speck of dust. “Are you sure it’s destroyed? It looks all right to me.”
“That’s because what you are holding is the vessel that contained the power. The power itself is gone. Destroyed, as I said, by you.”
Then Sri’Lanca told a story. Landon listened, the monsters fading from his awareness. His dragon spoke about a time of men and women gaining great powers and calling themselves wizards. These wizards had ruled the world for centuries until humans and dragons had joined forces and had slain them. The story weaved from these wizards to a man named Thirien Keene, and then to Diego and Sierra Dayn, and finally to Landon. Sri’Lanca recounted imprisonment, torture, and war that all revolved around the Wizard’s Seal. The tale was so bizarre that Landon kept asking if it was real, and Sri’Lanca assured him it was.
Landon squirmed with guilt when he learned he had killed Sri’Lanca’s first tamer, Judan Tan’Loraen. Sri’Lanca told Landon of how they had bonded, and of Eli’s death. He recounted the Seers finding him and Myra, how Sri’Lanca had rescued them, and how they had hid in Menrye until finding the Wizard Christovan’s account in Hondel. He explained what the account had said of destroying the Seal: insanity that led to suicide.
He told him that after discovering and translating this account, they had returned to Nircana only to find their people had been conquered and enslaved. He explained all the events that led up to Landon wielding the Seal to free his people, until he was captured by the Dragon Guard. They managed to disarm him of the Seal and carried him to the kings. Myra saw where the Seal fell and recovered it. She and Sri’Lanca managed to return the Seal to Landon before he was overpowered by his enemies.
“You used the power to destroy all their weapons,” Sri’Lanca explained, “and killed Niklas as he ran at you, but that wasn’t enough. Darrin and Sayre began to close in on you. I thought you would use the power to kill them, but you didn’t. You looked me in the eye, and I knew what you were going to do. I screamed for you to stop but you . . . you destroyed the Seal.”
“What did it look like?” Landon asked, breathless.
Sri’Lanca’s eyes were sad. The Myra-monster began to speak, but Sri’Lanca gently cut her off. “Myra, he can’t understand you, remember? Landon, the only way I could describe it is exactly as Wizard Christovan did: white fire exploded within you. It glowed from your eyes, your nose, mouth, and ears. It caused your skin to glow, and you began to scream. I managed to get close enough to grab you, but my claws and tail slid right off you.” Blood-red tears pricked his eyes and he shook them off. “Sayre and Darrin tried to grab you, but, like me, they couldn’t. No one could touch you.
“You stood there, burning and screaming for a minute, and then it stopped. The white fire within you died and you swayed. I thought you would start running around, trying to kill yourself, but you didn’t. You crumpled to the ground and did not move.
“I tried to get to you, Landon, I really did.” Sri’Lanca was trembling, his voice earnest. “I knew you were alive and we were still bonded, but it was weak. I could barely feel you, and that terrified me. Our enemies surrounded you and took you into a tent. I was ready to battle them to the death but Ti’Luthin suggested we return to our people. There was nothing we could do against so many dragons and men, even if they were disarmed. We returned to our defenses,” he jerked his head towards the buildings, “and told the surviving judges everything, including Christovan’s account.”
A roar of outrage came from the king-monsters. The fat one and the king next to him jumped to their feet, angry gibberish coming from them. Sri’Lanca’s mournful countenance vanished into annoyance. “Sit down and be quiet! I’m not finished.” He spat a fireball for good measure, and the two king-monsters sat, grumbling.
“As I was saying,” Sri’Lanca continued with a scathing look at the kings. “We told the judges everything and they began negotiating your release. They have been trying all week, even going as far as to offer these cretins gold, silver, and jewels, with no luck. Although you appeared dead and the Seal mysteriously powerless, the kings refused to give you, or your parents, up. They began to retreat from the mountains. Ti’Luthin and I stole weapons and supplies from the armies, hoping we could locate you and your parents. It didn’t work, but we were able to greatly hinder their retreat. It’s difficult to order men to march on empty stomachs when they’re far from home.
“All the while, I sensed you growing weaker. I felt nothing from you, not even the bond, but I sensed your life draining. I was beginning to feel angry and confused. Myra was doing everything she could to tame me, but you and I were still bonded. It wasn’t until last night that your brother, Will, proposed a rescue party. What you saw today was our attempt to rescue you and your parents. We thought we would lose many lives in trying to obtain you, but you foiled that. For the better, I think.”
Landon said nothing to that. He fingered the amulet, mulling over the bizarre story his dragon had recounted. He looked back at Sri’Lanca. “What you said, about the wizards, my parents, and me . . . is it true?”
“Yes, Landon, it is,” Sri’Lanca answered gently. “You must not remember because the Wizard’s Seal destroyed your memories to drive you insane.”
“If the Seal was supposed to kill me then why am I still alive?” Landon asked. No sooner had the words left his mouth that he realized the answer. “Our bond,” he said quietly. “The heat. That was our bond, and it saved me.
The cold . . .”
“The cold was the Wizard’s Seal trying to kill you. You always said that you felt cold when using the Seal. It conflicted with our bond. Praise Balaam it didn’t succeed.” Sri’Lanca smiled, but it was forced, like he was brushing off a near-death experience as nothing.
Landon nodded, but he wasn’t so sure. Dead dragons had tried to kill him, not some ethereal power centuries old. He wanted to tell Sri’Lanca, but not while hundreds of monsters were eavesdropping.
The Rickins-monster stood and spoke. She jabbered for a couple minutes before shouting, “Habana jurich kevy sinnequi!”
Silence met the judge-monster’s words, and Landon felt the hatred emanating from the king-monsters and their subjects. “Sri’Lanca, what did she say?” Landon asked, trying to catch Sri’Lanca’s attention without raising his voice.
Either Sri’Lanca heard him and decided not to answer, or he didn’t hear him at all. The king-monsters began gibbering. The creatures that had stolen Landon’s parents’ voices chimed in, sounding furious. The judge-monsters responded. The faceless dragons sitting upon the cages joined in, their booming voices shaking Landon to the core. He felt Sri’Lanca’s muscles tighten and his wings trembled with rage. He held up a claw to Landon.
“May I please have the Wizard’s Seal?” his dragon asked. An angry growl reverberated in his body.
Landon hastily hung the amulet on the dragon’s claw. In a swift motion, Sri’Lanca threw the Seal onto the ground and spread his wings wide. The dragons on the cages chattered nervously and a few stood, unfurling their wings.
“You want a reason why you should all leave?” Sri’Lanca bellowed. Smoke rose from his nostrils, and Landon was glad he couldn’t see the dragon’s face directly. “Here is your reason, monsters!” He craned his neck so his head was directly over the Wizard’s Seal and breathed fire.