Bladeborn

by Clayton Schonberger

  Just before Bladeborn was measured for his suit of adamantium armor, Nightslayer said, ~~This dragon seems more honorable than most mortals, Bladeborn…perhaps you could rely on Spe more than I had first thought~~

  The armor smiths of the Rollbard family carefully measured Bladeborn, and set to work on a suit of armor fit for a great warrior. Bladeborn still wore the shirt and pants of teak hide given to him by Deocarla; they were none the less for wear. The durable hide was ingeniously incorporated into the new armor suit after the Rollbard leathercrafters took it apart and resewed it as a flawless undercoat.

  After mixing the steel and adamantium alloy and casting it, the smiths hammered for several days non-stop, using Spe’s hottest fire to make the armor’s shell. After a week of working on the suit, it was inlaid with platinum filigree and small rubies that were cut like the ones on the scabbard. The master Dwarven smiths were delighted to find Bladeborn could answer in-depth questions about the design of his armor. After the suit was completed, it was dyed black to match the dark metal of Nightslayer.

  Bladeborn was also given a shiny shield by the Forge Foreman, who claimed it was “unpierceable.”

  Spe coughed and cleared his throat, and the foreman shot him an angry glance.

  “What are you looking at?” Spe growled.

  When the armor was ready, the Dwarven King paid Bladeborn a curt farewell. Vimtan seemed to doubt that he would ever see the Bladeborn again. In the Rollbard household there was a heart-felt goodbye. The Dwarven children would miss the human warrior.

  King Rosen had decided to remain behind with the Rollbard family until Bladeborn found out if the Elves had the maps. He explained, “The task you are undertaking is a young man’s mission. I will wait here.”

  King Rosen expressed his concerns about the Elves and their worshipping spirits of the dead, “It is Arlen to whom the Elves pray, too, and he is a strange, capricious god. Be cautious when you are with these Elves. They are unfriendly and mistrustful of humans.”

  Bladeborn said, “I will avoid being taken in by their sorcery, my King. And, if there is a land to the Northwest where our people can dwell, I will find it. If not, I will be back as soon as time allows.” Bladeborn planned to see if there was a way the people of the Six Valleys could live near the Elves before trying the last resort—the trip through the center of Draconia to the yellow sun side of the world.

  Bladeborn and Spe exited the Hall of the Dwarves and the dragon flew toward the land of the Elves, far to the northeast. The time in the service to the Dwarves made Spe cranky and difficult, but the dragon’s respect for Bladeborn was deeply felt. Also, knowing Bladeborn was one of the first times in the dragon’s long life that it had been interested in the affairs of mortals as anything other than fodder.

  They flew for days over a rocky, trackless wilderness, nearly barren and devoid of life. They were somewhere in the northern basin of the Spiral Mountains. Bladeborn could see that moving many people across the territory below them would be nearly impossible. Few beasts and fewer rivers or lakes could be seen anywhere in the geothermal wasteland.

  They were flying high in light clouds when Spe, with his superior eyesight, spotted the type of prey he desired. An eighteen-foot-tall, human-like giant figure clad in golden armor, with massive, white wings flew low above the ground. Spe dove and closed on it quickly, so fast that his normal steady flight was disrupted.

  Bladeborn had nearly toppled from his comfortable perch on Spe’s neck, and he shouted, “What are you doing, Dragon?”

  A half-second later, with no response from Spe, Bladeborn saw the figure the dragon was flying toward had a sort of “golden aura” about it. It was impossible to miss.

  “Spe, is that an Avatar of Light!” Bladeborn shouted.

  “It is!” Spe shouted back. “Let’s kill it!”

  ~~Call the dragon off, Bladeborn!~~

  “No, Spe! They are good creatures, and said to be immortal!”

  “They might be immortal, but I’ll bet we can take one!”

  If it truly was one, Bladeborn knew Avatars of Light were holy creatures, messengers of the gods of the Heavens. Despite being ordered to not to attack it, Spe came down fast on the winged, beautiful form, spewing fire. Spe crashed into its back and clawed it. The curly blonde hair of the Avatar of Light was scorched, as were its wings, but not set ablaze.

  “We aren’t even affecting it, Dragon!” Bladeborn exclaimed. “Get us away from it!

  Yet the dragon wheeled about for another pass at the sacred being.

  “You OWE me a good fight, Bladeborn! I am collecting on our bargain, NOW! FIGHT this thing with me!”

  Spe came in close this time since its fiery breath had not affected the holy creature, attacking with his claws, tail, and huge teeth. Spe tried clawing at the delicate white-feathered wings of the Avatar of Light and toss him earthward, but the wings were deceptively resilient, and they beat at a stunning pace.

  All the while, Bladeborn called to Spe to stop.

  Spe locked his massive jaws on the Heavenly being’s shoulder, shaking back and forth like a Wartdog trying to kill a desert deer. However, the Avatar of light began climbing upward, beating its wings faster and faster so the dragon could not lock onto them with his clawed hands and feet.

  The Avatar of Light, with a golden suit of armor covering a portion of its chest, reached out, and a sword with a golden hilt magically appeared in its hand. The holy Avatar slashed at Spe's thick, scaly neck, laying open gashes that bled profusely. Spe cried out, in pain, ceasing to bite.

  The Avatar held Spe's jaws away, and the dragon cried out, “Help me, Bladeborn! Or we’ll both fall from the sky!”

  Spe was clawing madly at the Avatar of Light, tearing at its thick armor with rear feet, but not inflicting serious damage.

  Bladeborn, who had been barely able to hang on to the neck of the Dragon during the battle, called to Nightslayer for advice.

  ~~We are surely doomed if you do not fight, Bladeborn!~~

  Bladeborn didn't know if this foe was immortal of if there was a way it could be killed. He suspected that it was immortal, and Spe had led them to their dooms; nevertheless, he would try to fight it.

  At Bladeborn’s command, a bolt of Nightslayer’s lightning shot at the Avatar of Heaven, which hit it in the chest. It burned away part of the angelic creature’s golden chest plate and knocked it back, nearly freeing it from the dragon’s claws. The Avatar of Light twisted its face in pain, but it made no sound. Spe's jaws had come loose, and Spe bit the Avatar of Light’s sword arm. The sword disappeared and instantly reappeared in the holy being’s other hand.

  The Avatar of Light swiped its weapon at Bladeborn, who was barely hanging on to the Dragon's neck with all the muscles in his legs. Bladeborn blocked with his Dwarven-forged adamantium shield, but the blow was so strong even the new shield was bent in two. Bladeborn’s shoulder was dislocated and his forearm was fractured as well. One more such strike by the Avatar would kill him.

  “Nightslayer! Shoot ALL our lightning at the Avatar’s sword hand! We MUST disarm it!”

  Nightslayer complied, and the Avatar of Heaven stiffened when it’s large, strong hand was scorched with soot by the electrifying jolt from Nightslayer. It did release the sword it had carried, which fell from the sky toward the Earth, far below.

  Spe coiled about the Avatar’s body, beginning to squeeze it. The three of them rose in the sky, taken high by the frenetic motion of the Heavenly being’s wings in a wild ballet. Bladeborn beat the Avatar of Light in the head with Nightslayer when he was close enough to do so, but to little affect. The Avatar of Light seemed to be toying with Bladeborn, as though it wanted to see what he would do.

  ~~Fight! There is no way to back out now, Swordsman! Kill the angel, or be killed by it! You have no choice!~~

  Spe bit deep into the forearm of the Avatar of Light which was now bleeding. The Avatar was slowly losing the test of strength, and so it began to parry and use its magical Esse
nce. The Avatar of Light sent a powerful Essence attack against the dragon. Spe was disoriented for an instant—and became limp, dead weight. The Avatar tried to unwind from Spe’s coils. It only managed to unlock the dragon’s jaws from the shoulder-bite and fly upwards farther, since its white, feathered wings were tangled in Spe’s claws.

  Without knowing why, Bladeborn felt a fear inside his mind, the fear of himself and his own potential of evil: the killing and stealing he had done; long ago when he had first gone berserk in the rebellion at Fortress City; his decision to leave Fortress City behind when they needed him most; the killing and torture of Rhinolon prisoners; and his greatest shame of all—that he was partially to blame for the destruction of the Sixth Realm, having led the campaign against the Rhinolon... He suddenly felt he had to justify it all in his mind. He saw the Avatar of Light’s eyes for a moment. Bladeborn saw everything wrong in his own spirit reflected there. He knew that he had to fight the feelings of self-doubt or he would be overwhelmed by them and fail the test of wills.

  The Avatar of Light had a look of peace over it, and Bladeborn fought in desperation. Yet Bladeborn had read in the Omnibus of the Psy what a test of wills was… he was ready…

  Bladeborn pushed back against the Avatar’s mental invasion with thoughts of the injustice of life, the need to be strong, and the need to fight for what one gets. The sacred creature returned with all the greed Bladeborn felt, and the pride he felt for his accomplishments.

  In mere seconds after the contest of wills had begun, the Avatar of Light’s Essence was dominating Bladeborn’s mind completely. But during all this, the Avatar had not been beating its wings. Bladeborn realized they had been in a free fall, and were dangerously near the ground.

  A moment before the three of them smashed onto the rocks below, Spe regained his senses, and so distracted was the holy being with the mental game it used on Bladeborn, the dragon managed to close its powerful jaws about the Avatar’s head. With a loud crunch and a burst of bright red blood, the holy creature was dead.

  Spe let the huge figure to fall on the earth.

  Spe and Bladeborn landed roughly on a stony bluff, and Bladeborn began to try to heal them.

  “What a battle! By the gods, Bladeborn! You were amazing!” Spe exclaimed. Spe could tell that Bladeborn was fuming with anger. “Are you alright?”

  “I don’t know...Don’t ever do that again!” Bladeborn yelled furiously.

  “The Avatar really got to you, did it?” Spe questioned. “I was out of the fight for a while. Avatars of Light are strange. Their blood tastes good. Certainly, better than those underground cavern cattle.”

  They sat there a moment, and then Spe got all excited again.

  “Those Dwarves just don’t how to live!” Spe exclaimed. “But you sure do! For a moment, I didn’t think you were going to back me up, but you did!”

  Bladeborn had a throbbing headache which would slowly dissipate over the course of the next week. Clouds suddenly blanketed the area and a thunderstorm blew in with heavy, cold rain. Spe marveled at the fury of the lightning arching across the darkened plain. “That’s kind of odd considering the sky was almost clear a just a half-hour ago…”

  The thunderstorm lasted until dawn of the next day. After slowly taking off all the meatal armor he wore above his waist, Bladeborn sat and fumed in silence in the cold rain. Bladeborn’s shoulder was severely injured and he didn’t know what else he could do. The dragon tried several times to get Bladeborn to recount the final details of the battle, but eventually gave up.

  “Aren’t you going to freeze in this weather?” Spe asked.

  Frowning, Bladeborn simply held up the hand wearing sapphire ring he had gotten from the Skeletal Lord in Fortress City. After Rollbard returned it, he had vowed to never take it off again. “I have told you before that this ring is a defense against cold.”

  “You are an extraordinary human, Bladeborn!” Spe said, trying to get him to talk—or forget his anger. “An amazing ring, one which can make cold nights seem less cold… Show me again, the other ring!”

  “I can’t…” Bladeborn grumbled. “My left shoulder is dislocated…”

  “Is there anything I can do?” Spe asked.

  “No…”

  ~~You had better try to get the dragon to help you with that shoulder, Swordsman, or it won’t heal properly~~

  Bladeborn thought to the Sword, “I don’t want his help. I may now have a dark spot on my soul. Long ago, Onar told me angels were messengers of Saint Morth.”

  ~~Yet you need the dragon’s help, NOW~~

  Bladeborn knew Nightslayer was right, and he was in a lot of pain. With each movement, his shoulder had grown worse. He slipped out of the teak hide coat in preparation.

  “What are you doing? Spe asked. “Does it hurt that much?”

  “All right, Spe,” Bladeborn finally said, ignoring the dragon’s facetious question. “You’ll have to grow large again and pop my shoulder back into its socket. Is there any wine or liquor in the sack of endless space?”

  “Wine?” Spe asked. “I don’t think so. All the bottles in the flying pyramid of the Elves were smashed. Many amazing things in there, and not one wine bottle!” The dragon began to grow larger right away, perhaps taking the injury a bit more seriously.

  “Alright then—no wine. This will really hurt me…Do it right the first time, dragon,” Bladeborn declared grinding his teeth against the pain. “Pop my shoulder back into its socket when I tell you to, on the count of three. One… Two…”

  “Like this?” the dragon struck Bladeborn’s shoulder solidly with a balled forepaw, not clawing him, but neatly popping his shoulder into its socket!

  “OWWW!” Bladeborn cried out. The pain was incredible…but it seemed that the dragon had gotten it right!

  Spe asked, “Did I get it?”

  “It seems so,” Bladeborn shuddered and gasped. The pain was already subsiding. “You… Did that well… Dragon.”

  “Well, I’m several thousand of your years old, human mortal. You… Learn a few things, in that time.”

  “You have done that before?” Bladeborn asked.

  “I’m not quite sure. You forget a few things in that time, too.”

  By the next day, due to Bladeborn’s healing power, they were ready to continue. But Bladeborn’s arm would be in a sling for some time.

  They flew steadily north. Bladeborn brooded unhappily, still deeply resenting the dragon’s decision to attack.

  After several days and some pestering by Spe, the two of them began to talk again.

  Bladeborn learned more about dragons. Spe said, “It is my belief that I am one of the last of my kind on Draconia, but I hope not. I have not seen another dragon since a pit dragon and a highly magical female dragon all the way from the distant planet Foresti left me in anger some four hundred years ago.”

  “Why did they leave you in anger?” Bladeborn asked.

  “It has been so long that I can’t even remember.” Spe said. “I wish I could find one—just one—of my kind. But it never happens.” Spe looked thoughtfully at the starry skies and Bladeborn changed the subject.

  “Let’s get some food,” he said, pulling from the sack the elaborate plate and a flask that would fill with fine food and pure water when tapped on the ground. “What all is in this sack?” Bladeborn asked. “So far, each time I reach into it, whatever I have wanted had been within my grasp…”

  “You’ll see,” the Dragon responded. “There are a lot of Elvin things in here. We will divide it all up when we are in a safe place, if that’s all right with you… It took me many years to get it all, and I don’t want some giant Nightcat lining its nest with even one trinket.”

  Bladeborn learned that Spe had no idea why most of the blood dragons had disappeared. “It’s a very strange thing, Bladeborn,” the Dragon said, “Over the last thousand years, they all just slowly vanished…One blood dragon, almost longer ago than I can remember, said it was ‘…answering the call, a
nd flying south…’ It has been lonely, I guess. For some reason, this call never came for me…Perhaps someday I will find out what happened to the others of my kind.”

  Chapter 22: The Elves

  In a few more days they had traveled over a series of high, snowy peaks. Now on the downward slope of a mountain range covered by a vast pine forest, the uninhabited wilderness below rolled on and on. Occasionally, Spe would see deer and they would hunt and eat fresh kill.

  Bladeborn had the foresight to trade a semi-precious gem to the Rollbards for a stack of hand-made Dwarven quilts.

  “I don’t want to sleep in these blankets unless I am in a tent. I don’t suppose there is one among the items in the sack of endless space?”

  As the snow fell on their campsite, Spe told Bladeborn there were several things useful to a mortal on a long journey inside the Sack of endless space. “Look in the sack for the medium-sized Elvish tent.”

  Since his shoulder had mostly healed, Bladeborn set the tent up and found that it was almost waterproof. After breaking camp, Bladeborn would pack it up and put it back in the sack of endless space.

  “Is there another tent in here, Spe?”

  “Look for yourself,” Spe replied.

  “There seems to be a lot of them,” Bladeborn said, delighted.

  “I remember loading them in there, now,” Spe said with a yawn.

  The tent served to keep the mountain chill off Bladeborn. Although the sapphire ring he had years earlier from the Skeletal Lord prevented most wintery weather conditions from affecting him, he found the tent and quilts a comfort.

  As far as Spe was concerned, the snow was an annoyance to be tolerated like the Dwarven blacksmiths, “If I ever figure out which deity controls the weather of our world I will have a thing or two to say to him.”

  Bladeborn was amused, “I would have guessed that you could keep yourself warm, being that you are a fire-breathing dragon.”